Part 61 (1/2)
It shone forth at night by means of a blood-red lamp, which looked up and down the street invitingly until the sun came and extinguished it.
During all these hours it seemed to be irresistibly attractive to many people; at least it was almost always crowded with customers. Thus it was on this evening also. There was scarcely a vacant chair in the four or five large rooms which formed the ”Dismal Hole.” Eliza, Bertha, and Pauline, the three pretty waiters, had their hands full in bringing the beer to each thirsty guest, and in giving him time to pinch their cheeks, or at least to say a civil word. These confidential interviews, short as they were, no doubt interfered somewhat with business, but what could be done? Thirsty gentlemen, belonging to a certain cla.s.s of society, insist upon holding the pretty hand that brings them the mug of beer, though it may be slightly moistened with foam, a little while in their own; and in this case such a desire was all the more justifiable, as the three girls were really very pretty, and did all honor to the good taste of the landlady of the ”Dismal Hole.”
Mrs. Rosalie Pape was a lady of fifty or more, who struck you at first sight by her enormous size. It was only after more careful examination that you noticed the coa.r.s.eness of the features, which were half hid in fat, and the short and square fingers of the plump white hands; and only the experienced observer could discover that the brown hair which adorned abundantly the head of the matron could not possibly be her own, and that the small, bright blue eyes, in spite of the apparent kindliness of the broad mouth, had a sharp and at times even a downright wicked and dangerous expression.
The guests at the ”Dismal Hole,” however, were not the men to make such observations. In their eyes Rosalie was a charming, splendid woman, under whose management the fame of the place was spreading far and near, and they were delighted when the good lady left her place behind the bar and made a tour through the whole bas.e.m.e.nt. Here she would familiarly clap an acquaintance on the shoulder, or welcome a newcomer; there she would graciously accept the praise of her beer, or try to disarm a critic by putting his gla.s.s to her own lips and taking a pull of which a sergeant need not have been ashamed.
Thus she had just now approached two men who were sitting alone in a corner, and putting their heads close together whispered so eagerly that it was evident the topic of their conversation must have been of the greatest importance.
”Well, little Schmenckel, how do?” said Mrs. Rosalie, putting her fat hand upon the broad shoulders of the strong gentleman in the velvet coat; ”it seems to me you look rather warm. Do not drink too much, or you will not be able to show off well afterwards. You have a large audience to-night.”
”I fear I wont be able to do much to-night,” said the director, with stammering tongue, his face flushed and almost painfully.
”But, Schmenckel, you promised!” replied Mrs. Rose, and her eyes did not look very kindly at him. ”One good turn deserves another, you know.”
”My friend Schmenckel will consider it,” said the other gentleman, a man with light hair, and wearing spectacles over his sharp blue eyes; ”he happens just now to be somewhat excited by an encounter he had an hour ago Under the Lindens. However, I am particularly delighted, madame, to have found out your new address through Mr. Schmenckel. I had been looking for you all over town for two days, and all in vain.”
Mrs. Rose Pape cast a glance at the speaker. There was something in his whole appearance, and in his way of speaking, which attracted her.
”With whom have I the honor?” she said.
”All on my side! Will you favor us with your company for a few moments?” said the young man, offering Mrs. Rosalie the third yet vacant chair near the little table. ”My name is Albert Timm, from Grunwald. I have a letter of introduction to you from an old friend, who sends his kindest regards. May I be permitted to place the doc.u.ment in those beautiful hands?” And Mr. Timm handed the lady an unsealed letter, which he had drawn from a very shabby pocket-book.
Mrs. Rosalie seemed to be a little embarra.s.sed by this communication.
She cast one more searching glance at the stranger, looked all around the room to see that she was un.o.bserved, opened the note, turned ralf-round to get the benefit of the gas-light, and read:
”Dear Rose: The bearer is a very good friend of mine, whom you can trust _unconditionally_. He will tell you something about that matter at Grenwitz that will make you open your eyes wide. If you and Jeremiah will help him, we can, I am sure, help a certain gentleman to his inheritance, and make a prodigious profit out of it ourselves. Good-by!
I hope you are well; and I hope the same of your still warmly attached T. G.”
”You know the hand-writing?” asked Mr. Timm of the good lady, who, after reading the letter twice, and folding it up carefully to put it in her pocket, had been looking at him for some time with suspicious glances.
”It seems to me the hand-writing is familiar,” she said.
”Well, for the present that is the main point. As for the rest, I will tell you more at the proper time. I hope you will grant me, to-night, the favor and the honor of a confidential talk. I am sure we shall be the best friends in the world by to-morrow.”
There was a confidence and self-a.s.surance in the manner of the young man which decidedly imposed on Mrs. Rosalie, however nicer people might have been shocked by the air of vulgar impertinence with which it was flavored. She returned the familiar pressure of Timm's hand and rose, as just at that moment one of the three Hebes came to say that she was wanted at the bar.
Mr. Timm turned once more to Director Caspar Schmenckel, from Vienna, who was so drunk or so absorbed in his thoughts that he had paid little or no attention to the conversation between his friend and Mrs.
Rosalie, and then he said:
”I don't see how you can be doubtful a moment. I tell you, as you were thus facing each other I was struck by the likeness, although I had little leisure at that time to make observations. I grant the accident is marvellous which has brought you together once more after so many years, at an hour and at a place where you perhaps least expected ever to meet. But what does that amount to? I have a great respect for Master Accident, for he has helped me over and over again out of many a predicament when all cleverness and wisdom were at fault. And this accident is too famous not to be something more than a mere accident.
And what is the great wonder, after all? You court, twenty-two years ago, a frivolous lady, and you succeed. When the husband returns, and finds you under suspicious circ.u.mstances, you pitch him out of the window. The lady never has had but one child, and the age of that child agrees to the day. You were in St. Petersburg, you tell me, in September, eighteen hundred and twenty-five, and the prince was born in May, twenty-six ----”
”How do you know all that?” asked Mr. Schmenckel, and shook his head incredulously.
”I tell you, my man, I know it! That is enough for you. And suppose the fellow is not your son, then----”
”But why shouldn't he be my son?” cried Mr. Schmenckel, striking the table with his gigantic hand ”Do I look as if I was not up to having children?”
Mr. Timm took off his spectacles, wiped the gla.s.ses carefully, put them on again, looked laughingly at Director Caspar Schmenckel's flushed face, and said good-naturedly: