Part 9 (2/2)
”No, no, you must stay,” she went on; for Reimers looked as if he meant to take leave at once. ”There, sit down. Just wait a minute; I feel better already.”
Reimers took a seat and glanced round the room. The couch almost filled it, the only other furniture being a dainty little writing-table in the window and a couple of chairs. Above the couch hung the only picture, a fine print of Gainsborough's _Blue Boy_.
In the meanwhile, Frau von Gropphusen had recovered herself. Her pretty pale face was lighted up by a somewhat melancholy smile, and she began softly: ”No, really, I couldn't let you go!”
She raised herself again, drew her knees up beneath their covering, and clasped her arms round them. It was done quite simply and naturally, without any touch of coquetry. And then she stretched out her hand again to Reimers and said: ”You, the champion of the Boers!” Then, supporting her chin on her knees, she continued: ”But now you must tell me exactly why you fought for them?”
As Reimers was preparing to answer, she interrupted him: ”No, I will question you. Wait a minute. Was it from love of adventure?”
”No. At least, that is not the right way of putting it. I wanted for once to see something of the serious side of my profession. But even that was not the chief reason.”
”Well, then, was it in search of fame?”
Involuntarily Reimers deviated from his usual rule of answering evasively, and replied: ”No; that was not it either. I wanted nothing for myself personally, or at most only to prove my fitness for my profession.”
”But neither was that your princ.i.p.al motive?”
”Oh, no.”
”Perhaps it was indignation against the strong who were oppressing the weak?”
Reimers was silent for a moment. Then he said: ”Perhaps. But other things contributed; above all, boredom. And--I wanted a decision as to whether I was to live or not. I could not remain an invalid for ever.”
”But still your chief, your final motive was the love of justice, wasn't it?”
”Well, yes.”
Hannah Gropphusen sank back again languidly. For the third time she stretched out her hand to Reimers: ”It rejoices me to find that such people still exist, and to know one of them!”
Reimers had held her hand for a moment in his own. It was a small hand, almost too thin, with slender fingers. As he looked at it, he was reminded of the gentle hands of his mother. He respectfully touched the beautiful fingers with his lips and rose. Frau von Gropphusen made no effort to detain him.
”It is perhaps better for me,” she said wearily; and as he reached the door, she added: ”But it has given me great pleasure to see you again,”
and she dismissed him with a friendly nod.
Reimers stood for a moment before the front door, thoughtfully b.u.t.toning his gloves.
It was certainly odd; the very woman whom every one else seemed to distrust appeared to him more worthy of esteem than any of the others.
He realised this only after the visit just paid. To her alone had he answered frankly, and although they had hardly exchanged a dozen words, he felt they under-stood each other perfectly. He could not avoid the thought that their souls were akin. Each of them yearned after what was great and beautiful in life. This woman, indeed, deserved pity, for she had suffered s.h.i.+pwreck in the greatest and n.o.blest end for which woman is created--in her love; but he, thank G.o.d, was a man; and his ideal, Germany, still stood out clear and definite, dwarfing mere personal aims.
In that dim room a sinister thought had seized upon him, oppressing and paralysing him; a vague foreboding that his fate would resemble that of this pale woman. But he chased the dark clouds away. His star did not vary in its light as does the s.h.i.+fting and drifting human mind; it was like the sun, steady, unchangeable, inspiring.
CHAPTER IV
”For oh! I had a comrade, And a better could not be.”
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