“I think. What happened could happen. It would be up to nature to help yourself. Anyway, I stay here. I'm allowed to sit in there for a while Stretch out a sofa? “With that, he withdrew into the adjoining room.
The baron, however, knelt down by the bed. His eye had remained dry until this minute. The terrible spasm of his interior had found no solution. But now he was in tears. At first they thrust themselves out, one at a time, drop by drop, between their eyelashes, but the more and more hotly, the broken man wept down on the beloved hand, which he embraced...
“Doctor! Doctor!”
This man, out of the short sleep to which he had fallen, roused himself awake by the baron.
“A new attack! A new attack!”
“Well, so,” said the doctor, finding himself a little hard, and followed into the sickroom.
The attack was fierce, but short. Klothilde lay quiet again; she hardly seemed to breathe.
And now something happened that only those know who stood on deathbeds.
Klothilde suddenly opened her eyes and half-raised herself. Without expression, she looked around; then she slowly turned her face to her husband. Did she see him? Did not she see him? Who could say it? Unrelated but glazed, her eyes remained fixed on him. Suddenly she smiled; then she fell back on the pillows, sighing deeply - and her chin sank down to her chest.
Freiherr von Gunthersheim leaned over the corpse.
IX.
How he lived the rest of the night and the morning, how he received the second doctor who had arrived, later he could not account for himself. With that apathy of pain that borders on thoughtlessness He met and was called to meet the institutions, which now appeared necessary for burial. He was assisted by the brave doctor, whoapparently had pity on the lonely man; the mayor also came to express the condolences of the community and to make himself available to the baron. And as women on similar occasions always endeavored to show a warm and laboring participation, some respectable inhabitants had not lacked, at the last servants, the female servants who had visibly lost their heads, to render the dead mistress were to go to the hand.
And so the hour had come when Klothilde was laid out in the salon, flickering with lofty wax-lights. She was dressed in black silk, with a wreath of white roses around her forehead and a small golden crucifix placed in her clasped hands. The Freiherr had been at heart against such display, but he could not and should not withdraw it from the people, who were now coming up in droves, full of shy curiosity, to admire and mourn the beautiful dead woman of the castle. And meanwhile he was alone in the adjoining room, all alone. He heard the cautiously muffled footsteps of inversions, heard quiet whispers and stifled weeping. He could not cry; If Aunt Lotti had been here, his tears would have flowed with her. She alone was which he did not want - but at best she could not arrive until the day after tomorrow. And so his hot eye remained dry, and it remained the endless long night, during which two poor women prayed at the corpse, it remained as he pressed the last kiss on the forehead of his wife. Only as if in a dream did he perceive that the coffin lid was now being closed over her; As if in a dream, he saw the pastor entering with two chaplains in white choristers and gold-embroidered stoles, hearing the monotonous prayers, the half-sung, half-spoken responses, that now the coffin lid was closed over her; As if in a dream, he saw the pastor entering with two chaplains in white choristers and gold-embroidered stoles, hearing the monotonous prayers, the half-sung, half-spoken responses, that now the coffin lid was closed over her; As if in a dream, he saw the pastor entering with two chaplains in white choristers and gold-embroidered stoles, hearing the monotonous prayers, the half-sung, half-spoken responses, Breathing breathed the deafening perfume that came from the curved incense-cup with a smoldering smoke. And now the coffin was lifted and carried away. Behind him followed the priests, behind the priests himself. Then the black-robed servants and finally the notables of the place, who had crowded the coffin with their wives. And so it went slowly down the avenue, down through the hot, bright summer day, down to the local church, where the dead was buried until further notice in a tomb vault belonging to the castle. It was not until he was back in the castle, a car that had come after him, that had brought him back, that he woke up. And then his distress also broke out and filled the lonely chambers with a moaning lamentation.
* *
*
Aunt Lotti had come. He had silently closed her in his arms and then made a soft, defensive gesture with his hand. From this she had learned that he did not want to be asked - and she did not ask. For what? She knew that Klothilde had died, and she found herself in this fact, as strong and well-tested natures know how to find themselves in the immutable. After all, she had not been outraged when her son was brought into her house, dying. She had not, as other mothers would have done in her place, hounded God and the world order, not the devilish “camarilla” and the dehumanized “soldateska” cursed: no, the youth was in the blue legionnaire's robe, the gun on her shoulder, set on probable fight - she could wonder, that he lay in front of her with his chest pierced? Of course, the fact that her niece had died so suddenly in the fullest bloom of life eluded any presupposition. But how many people get sick and do not die on the far earth? Even the boy Woman had hit this lot. Deeply painful for the poor husband; painful also for her, who wanted to transfer to the brother's child all the blessing love which she could no longer consecrate to her own. As a wise and experienced woman, she had felt how necessary Klothilden, whose marriage had remained childless, must be a motherly friend-the more necessary the more her husband had progressed in the years. But she had immediately consciousness, now for this life and ensure to have. She had left Vienna for his letter about the neck and the head, leaving behind some of the most important things left undone. Nevertheless, she wanted to stay here for now and wait until the desolate had come to some extent.
And the Freiherr took himself gradually. That is to say, it gradually became perfectly clear what had actually happened. His beloved wife had died away from him, succumbed to encephalitis. So a disease. But what had caused the disease? In all likelihood that encounter in the park with Count Poiga. The so was her murderer! No, no! What had he done? No more and no less than what every other person in his place - what the Baron himself might have done in his younger years - would have done to a beautiful woman with an aging husband. Could the count foresee the consequences - even suspect? No. Because no other woman would have taken this adventure to heart. Hehowever, her husband, she should have known her and to know it. And so it was his duty to protect them from such dangers, to protect them. But the guilt was even deeper. He had married a young girl as a fifty-year-old, had tied a blossoming life to his fading. And yet - the girl had loved him! As a woman, she had been affectionately attached to him for ten years! Nevertheless, he was allowed at that time do not advertise them. For as a mature, thoughtful man he had to foresee that nature would protest against this covenant in the course of time. And he confessed now that such concerns had greatly disturbed him, but they had been silenced by his selfishness, by his desire for the delicious property. Yes, it was a crime that he advertised for her! But what would have happened if he did not do it? She would have married another. She would still be a happy wife now - maybe a happy mother. At the thought his heart cramped. But what was the guarantee that, with all the contingencies that govern human well-being, in all the dangers that threaten it, would it really behave like that? Who could claimhe was. Could not she have died in her first childbirth? He breathed more freely. Indeed, a human destiny can not be calculated in all its possibilities, and if he bore his beloved wife's guilt, he now forfeited it through a lonely, torturous existence, which the redeeming death-he felt it in the depths of his soul-did not would approach so soon...
Nevertheless, he now proceeded to make all the necessary testamentary arrangements as quickly as if he were to die tomorrow. For now, in terms of his fortune. He was not a rich man; indeed, without the significant pension he received fr
om the state, he would have had to restrict himself greatly. The savings which Güntherheim had made before him had been used by his father for the purchase of the property, which, because one could not or did not have it in his own hands, produced only small profits. He himself had valued it merely as a summer residence-and the castle was once to become the widow's estate of his expensive clothed figures; for he was burying her before her would go, was no doubt. Of course things had changed. But what should happen to the good now? Admitted relatives of the Baron lived, but none whom he considered worthy to inherit his possessions. They should all be satisfied and cared for by legacies or annual pensions, even those who did not deserve it, depending on their personal circumstances. But the estate itself, together with all the burdens attached to it, and with the explicit reserve, which was rooted in painful piety for the deceased, that the castle should not be used as a residence for a period of twenty-five years, should fall after the death of the local community. This gave them the means to
After the Freiherr had sealed this donation documentary, he considered the final resting place of the immortals in consideration. For now, as circumstances required, she had been taken to the remote vault. But there, with the foreign dead, she was not allowed to stay. She was to rest near her, in the place she loved so much in life. The idea of building a small mausoleum on the site of the Tirolerhaus occupied him. But such a tomb seemed to him too sought after, too obtrusive - and so he turned to the Landeskonsistorium with the request to be able to bury the corpse of his wife in the castle chapel, where she would have to remain until his own demise.
Over these resolutions and orders the autumn was gradually drawn into the country. The days got shorter and shorter; Swarms of hooded crows perched in the treetops of the park, whose paths covered themselves with sloping arbor. And the November storms began to roar around the castle, where the baron dwelt lonely. And yet not very lonely. Meanwhile, Aunt Lotti had arranged her affairs in Vienna and returned to him. The long-awaited participation of this much-tested man he finally revealed the full extent, the whole meaning of his pain. She understood - and understood to comfort. At her side he entered Klothilden's room for the first time, which he had hitherto shunned, overwhelmingly impressed. And now the deserted rooms, with all the relics of an ever-vanished existence, became an expensive possession, in which he now more often and more frequently stayed,
And when spring came again gradually, the white snow cover which had spread all around melted away-and in the green lawn of the park, violets and primroses came to the fore, one day the baron made his way to the Tyrolean house. With a trembling hand he opened doors and windows and let the warm, sunny air penetrate into the quiet, slightly scented rooms. Everything was still in the same place as then! The landscape at the easel - the books, one of them open. And there stood the glass in which Klothilde had dipped the tip of her scarf to cover the traces of the tear in her face! He covered his with his hands. “My God! My God! “The memory of that terrible hour overwhelmed him with all his might...
He staggered down the steps and sat down on the bench, where she had liked to sit. Before him the meadow lay in a new driving force; above him, in the thin birch branches, a titmouse swayed with a gentle twitter; a first pale yellow Falter fluttered past him. Liberating melancholy came over him bit by bit; It seemed to him that Klothilde was sitting at his side with her broad-brimmed straw hat - and, as she was accustomed, laid her hand in his.
And now he was there almost every day. The columbine, which had been planted at the request of the castle-wife who loved him so much, and which flourished so richly and luxuriantly that all the grassy slopes were covered by it in May, was already blossoming in soft colors. And then came the time of the roses, the time of the carnations - and finally of the Georgines and asters...
So year after year, and the baron himself began to lead a plant life - the quiet plant life of old age. His memoirs, which he had begun, had been left for the time being. Later, when he wanted to take them back, these notes no longer seemed important enough to him, since in the meantime a reshaping of the things seemed to have begun in the state, as it had once seemed to his spirit. So he let the papers rest and contented himself with the consciousness of his former will. -
When almost one decade had passed since Klothilden's death, the Freiherr felt uncomfortable one evening. It was the first spring time that had led him back to the park to the Tyrolean house. He may have had a cold during the hours he spent there, and the doctor called in diagnosed pneumonia. The disease, however, passed by in the normal course, and in May Günthersheim, though still very weakened, was nevertheless recovering.
In the meantime the war had been prepared against Italy, which was allied with France, whose rapid and momentous events the Freiherr, like many others, pursued with suspicious fears. One morning when he was reading the newspaper reports of the Battle of Magenta in his room, he found one among the fallen officers Colonel Count Poiga-Reuhoff is listed. At that moment the leaf sank from his hand.
When, after some time, the valet entered, he saw his master sitting on the sofa with his head down, thinking he was sleeping. Quietly approaching, he realized he was dead. Pulmonary paralysis had occurred suddenly.
X.
The two coffins had been brought to Vienna. Aunt Lotti, too, had gone there, taking with her the testamentary authority, which was more intimate; everything else was distributed to the poor and the needy, so that only what was in a sense nil and nail-fixed was left behind in the castle. This, however, was now blocked at all its entrances and handed over the keys to the community board, who in turn hired a reliable man as overseer. Housed in the office-house with his family, the latter had to make sure that nothing decayed; as well as twice a year all rooms were opened to make the necessary ventilation and cleaning.
In the meantime, the new era had really dawned, and a cheerful election movement passed through the country. Long awaited institutions, redeeming laws asserted themselves, but with them also deeper national divisions, which came to light in almost all parts of the monarchy. A freer but also more restless spirit had come into the time, whose breath from now on wafted around the silent castle, while the walls gradually took on a sombre coloring, and on the uninterrupted corridors of the avenue, long-stemmed grass grew.
Suddenly it was flooded by enemy troops. For the war of 1866 had come near, and the cannons thundered in the round. The sprawling building had been opened up to a Prussian general who set up his army camp there.
That, too, passed, and it was quiet again on the lonely height. Below, however, the industrial fabric of peaceful hands stirred again - and the market town continued to expand. An imposing schoolhouse, a new town hall in gothic shell-work stood up, and when the first locomotive steamed past on freshly laid rails, the destination was reached, and the town was raised to the rank of a city. And finally, the twenty-five years had passed, which had kept the castle new inhabitants.
But on the same day, when this time came to an end, there had already appeared a great number of artisans, who were beginning to freshen up and furnish the abandoned building in every direction in the most modern taste. For one of the most important industrialists in the country, who had acquired an astonishing fortune over the years, had been informed on a business trip of this, as it were, hovering mansion, and at once had a brilliant offer for the purchase of the whole former estate done. The fathers of the young town began to sell more quickly, as they did away with all the other sorrows and burdens of the administration, and the wealth of the community grew by a considerable amount of liquid capital at the time. And so kept in the electric light whose white fanal lit up the avenue.
Of course, significant interventions in the park had happened. In the course of the years he had shot his foliage so hard in his undergrowth that a formal thinning had to take place. It also fell all marbled hermitages, temples, bridges and benches, which were all made of birch branches; only the Tyrolean house on the large meadow had been left untouched
as a quaint landmark and symbol of a narrow-minded and tasteless past. Also, you could at least there after a suddenly falling rain shelter or take on cool autumn days, the Gouter. But when the latter was actually carried out, it became evident that the rooms were for the most numerous family of the new lord of the castle, and all the court-masters, Governesses and nuns were far too small and uncomfortable. The ladies could find no right place to sit - and the gentlemen pushed their hats to the ceiling. If the windows were opened, a delicate drafts came in, and if they were closed, the rooms-as the ladies smoked cigarettes-were soon filled with unbearable tobacco smoke. And what heat might prevail in here in the beautiful season! The house was completely shunned next summer; Only the English governess, an elderly Miss with brass-blonde hair wraps, occasionally visited it on Sundays, in order not to be disturbed by anyone in the Bible. And when the unexpected happened the following winter, rogue thugs broke in at night and dragged away all that was moving, One immediately came to the decision to make the old “box” equal to the ground and to erect in its place a spacious summer house, which meets the requirements of modern comforts. Actually, as has been conjured up, in a short time a very stately building in the style of Swiss, from its wide, airy terrace you could look down comfortably on a wide staked lawn tennis court, which occupied a good part of the meadow. There move when, as often happens, the castle accommodates numerous guests, gracefully youthful figures in full zeal of body bending game. The gentlemen in jockeye hats and colored wool shirts, the ladies, hewed up, in garishly colored costumes - all in yellow, rubber-soled, heel-less shoes. And while the balls fly to and fro or over the lattice below with cheerful jokes and laughter, a group of more mature men and women linger on the terrace above in stimulating chatter. Everything is touched, praised or blamed, understood or misunderstood, what the day brings: the latest government regulations and the latest fashions; the fluctuations of the prices and the differences between this or that theater director and this or that actress; the last sensational divorce, the last victorious racehorse, socialism, hypnotism and the products of the naturalistic school. Thus, noisily, in the place where Klothilde delighted in the melancholy glow of Lenau's delight, and stirred in her ideal landscape-and collapsed in the overburden of guilt-a new, more definite, confident sex with other sentiments and intuitions, stirs and clatters other goals and hopes - hence with other destinies.
Short Stories From Austria- Ferdinand Von Saar Page 30
