Part 26 (1/2)
CHAPTER III.
THE VILLAGE SCHOOL.
When Johannes left Ernestine, he turned his steps towards the village.
He was as if inspired by the consciousness that his was a part to play that falls to the lot of few men in this world,--to promote his own happiness in watching over and caring for the happiness of another. He walked on with the firm, elastic tread that belongs to a strong man in the bloom of youth, and wherever his glance fell it scattered seeds of the kindliness which was reflected in the smile that greeted him upon every face that he met. He took his way towards a little vine-clad cottage in which dwelt the patriarch of the place,--the village schoolmaster. Before the door stood Hilsborn's vehicle, while a fat old mastiff was barking incessantly at the horse, who pawed impatiently, and never seemed to perceive that the dog was evidently only fulfilling an irksome duty, and was not actuated by the slightest feeling of hostility. Johannes stroked, in pa.s.sing, his broad, bristling back, a caress not unkindly received, and then entered the house, whose hospitable roof was so low that he was obliged to stoop as he crossed the threshold, lest he should brush his forehead against the bunches of unripe grapes that hung down over the lintel. He pa.s.sed through the little, dark hall, and entered the dwelling-room. There he found Hilsborn sitting with the schoolmaster upon one of the low, broad window-seats, while the schoolmaster's old wife, Brigitta, sat knitting upon the other. The schoolmaster was a spare, elderly man, with long gray hair, and eyes in whose uncertain depths that ominous white spot could be perceived that is the arch-enemy of light.
”Aha! the Herr Professor,” said the old man, rising to greet Johannes.
”We thought you had been enchanted in the Haunted Castle, and would never come back to us again.”
”You may not have been so very far wrong,” said Johannes, shaking the offered hand.
”Yes, you have kept us waiting well!” observed Hilsborn.
”Brigitta, dear, will you make ready for us? These gentlemen will perhaps do us the pleasure of sharing with us our mid-day meal,--it will be about the time for their luncheon,” said the schoolmaster to his wife, who had arisen when Johannes entered, and was awaiting this hint to withdraw. Johannes and Hilsborn declined the proffered hospitality, but Frau Brigitta had already left the room. As the door closed behind her, the old man grew very grave. ”Herr Professor,” he began, and his voice was a little hoa.r.s.e, and his hands trembled slightly, ”now we are alone,--now I pray you tell me the truth. I would not ask you while my wife was here,--for I would spare her unhappiness as long as possible. But I must and will know, for the future of my son is at stake. Is it not true, Herr Professor, that you have no hope of saving my eyes?”
Hilsborn made no reply. His compa.s.sionate heart withheld him from so utterly destroying the old man's hopes in life. In his indecision, he exchanged a glance with Johannes, which the old man observed.
”Oh, my dear sir, that look, which I could see in spite of my increasing blindness, speaks to me as plainly as your silence. I have long had no hope myself. A year ago, when my eyes were so inflamed, I expected the catastrophe would occur from which your skill has so long saved me. The question now is--can my eyes be operated upon?”
Hilsborn hesitated again. He could not in honour delude the worthy man with false hopes only to have them so bitterly crushed in the future, and yet--who with a heart in his breast could tell the sad truth to that face of anxious inquiry? ”I cannot give you a decided answer at present,” he said at last with some effort.
The patient man clasped his hands entreatingly, and his dim eyes strove to read Hilsborn's countenance. ”Do not believe, Herr Professor, that it would be kind to deceive me. If I now know that I am incurable, I can do instantly what would be difficult later,--take my son immediately from the University and train him to be my successor here.
You can understand that if I am disabled I can no longer provide for the continuance of his academic course, and that it is best that the young man should learn as soon as possible the destruction of his hopes, that he may reconcile himself to resigning the lecture-room for the school-room. I know how hard it will be, for I was just entering upon a scientific career when I was excluded from it by my father's early death. And let me tell you that if my son bears this blow well, I have nothing more to fear.” His voice faltered as he uttered these last words. He was conscious of it, and was silent,--unwilling to betray his emotion.
Johannes and Hilsborn stood for one moment, not knowing what to reply.
They could not console the unhappy father by the a.s.surance that he would need no subst.i.tute. They well knew how important it was that what the conscientious old man proposed should be done. At last Hilsborn said, with characteristic gentleness, ”If you wish to make sure of a subst.i.tute in case of the worst, it is best that you should do so as soon as possible, as in the event of undergoing an operation you would be unable to work for a long time, and, besides, I cannot answer for the result.”
”Thank you, kind sir. You have told me the truth, and now I know enough,” said the schoolmaster, wiping his eyes with a coa.r.s.e, gaily-printed cotton handkerchief.
”Have I not often told you,” said Hilsborn, ”that you never ought to touch your eyes except with linen cambric?”
”True! true!” said the pale, troubled man, forcing a smile, ”but where am I to procure such a luxury?”
”Why, your lady at the castle should give it to you,” said Hilsborn.
”She would do so willingly, I am sure, but I could not make up my mind to so bold a request; for, since the other villagers have treated her so badly, she has avoided us also; and I fear she has visited us with some of the indignation that she must feel at the shameful insults she has received.”
”Well, then, I will ask for you,” cried Johannes. ”I will go back to the castle, and you shall have what you require in a few moments.”
As he spoke, Frau Brigitta entered, with a bottle of wine and the soup.
Her good old face beamed with delight at the opportunity of offering her hospitality to such honoured guests. Her husband seized the gentlemen's hands, while she was busied with laying the table, and whispered, ”Promise me, I beg you, that you will not mention what you have told me to any one, that my poor wife may be allowed to enjoy all the hope that she can for the future.”
”We promise you,” was the grave reply.
”May I be permitted to offer the gentlemen some slight refreshment?”