The journey back to Klocksburg was made in almost complete silence after that.
When we arrived I went straight to my room and it was not long before Frau Graben was knocking at my door.
“You left the pavilion! But nobody leaves the pavilion before the Family party!”
“We did,” I said.
In spite of the fact that she thought I had done something which might well be unforgivable she could not hide her secret amusement. Her expression was like that I had surprised when she was watching the spiders in the basin.
“It’s a mercy the Duke was not there.”
“That would have been lese majesty I suppose.”
“That would have been a very serious matter.”
“And what would have happened to me? Should I have been put before a shooting squad?”
She smiled. “I don’t know what will come of this,” she said. “We’ll have to see. I heard from Dagobert that his father looked like thunder. I used to call my two when they were little Donner and Blitzen. I never saw such rages as young Fredi could fall into. Talk about thunder. And the Prince he was like lightning—into everything—wildly enthusiastic and all for it one minute and tiring quickly. Yes, Donner and Blitzen was my name for them.”
“I suppose I shall be asked to leave.”
“We’ll see,” she said.
Then she began to talk about her two charges the cousins—the Count and the Prince. There never had been such children according to her. The mischief. It was one body’s work just to get them out of that. I gathered that the Prince was her favorite. Little Lightning was slightly more lovable than young Thunder.
But I was not really paying attention; I was wondering what was going to happen. It was almost certain that I should be asked to pack and leave. The Count would certainly not want someone who had shown him such disrespect to teach his children.
I went up to the turret room. Somehow it seemed to offer me a little solace. I looked across the valley down on the town where we had seen the Schützenfest that afternoon and beyond to the forest where that nauseating slaughter had taken place, and terrible depression swept over me. If I left here now I would never know the answer I had come to seek. The manner in which Frau Graben had come into the shop and my arrival here had seemed to me like a pattern; it reminded me of the manner in which Ilse had appeared. There was something uncanny about it. It was like one of the fantastic adventures in which the gods and heroes of the forest indulged. I had changed since I had been here. I was growing more and more like that light-hearted girl who had wandered into the mist and I had felt certain that I was going to unravel the mystery and make the discovery which was necessary to my peace of mind. And if I were sent away that would be the end.
Perhaps I could go to the Damenstift and offer myself as a teacher of English as I had thought of doing once before. But I wanted to stay here; I was growing fond of the children, particularly Fritz. The restricted life in a convent was not appealing; its only virtue would be that I was here near that enchanted forest where once long ago I had walked into a dream . . . or was it reality?
I spent a sleepless night and the next morning when I was in the turret room with the children while we were at the window practicing English vocabulary we saw a little cavalcade of riders; they were coming up the mountain road which led to Klocksburg.
Dagobert shouted: “It’s my father.”
My spirits sank. He had wasted little time.
I said the boys should go to their rooms to wash their hands and prepare to receive him. I went to mine to prepare myself for the worst.
I was summoned down to the Rittersaal. I left the fortress, crossed the courtyard and entered the Randhausburg. My knees were trembling but I held my head high and I knew there was an unusual color in my cheeks. I hope I did not show how agitated I was. I tried to calm myself. I was telling myself: You will be dismissed, but if they don’t want you, you could stay on for a while living humbly perhaps in some mountain inn and then perhaps teach at the Damenstift.
He was seated there alone and rose when I entered. He bowed from the waist as the boys did, clicking his heels as he did so. He looked magnificent in the uniform of the Duke’s Guards. I felt like a drab little wren beside a peacock.
“Miss er . . .” he began.
“Trant,” I supplied.
“Miss Trant, we met for the first time yesterday.”
His English was good; there was only the faintest trace of accent. His voice unnerved me; it was very like Maximilian’s.
“You are here to teach my children English,” he went on.
“That is so.”
“They do not appear to have made much progress.”
“On the contrary I would say that they are making excellent progress. They only had a word or two of the language when I arrived. Their education in that direction having been entirely neglected.”
I was bold. I felt I had nothing to loose. He had determined to be rid of me; and because I found his bold glance offensive I could not prevent my voice taking on a firmness which I knew he would think of as insolent.
He sat down at the refectory table on which pewter utensils stood. “You may sit,” he said.
I did so because although I resented the manner in which he gave me permission to do so I could see that I should be at a disadvantage if I remained standing.
“So you found the children ignorant?” he said.
“As regards English certainly.”
“And since you have come they have made such rapid strides in this that when I asked them to tell me in English what they had thought of yesterday’s performance they were completely tongue-tied.”
“That might well be beyond their powers at present.”
“It was not beyond your powers to let us know what you thought.”
“I suppose I gave a good indication.”
“You left us in no doubt that you considered us a country of barbarians.”
He waited for my reply but I made none. He insisted, “That was so?”
“I found the spectacle revolting.”
“Indeed?”
“Is it so surprising?”
“Ah, English susceptibilities! Your Queen was equally unimpressed . . . or perhaps impressed. I was present when she was entertained over here. Her remarks were identical. ‘Butchery!’ she said.”
“Then I was in noble company.”
“You do not seem to set much store by that. You were in noble company yesterday but you behaved in an exceedingly discourteous manner. If it were not for the fact that you are a foreigner and can plead ignorance it might be necessary to reprimand you very severely.”
“I realize that I have committed a breach of etiquette and for that I apologize.”
“That is indeed gracious.”
“Had I known what I was expected to witness I should not have come.”
“You were commanded to come.”
“Still I should have declined.”
“Those who serve us do not decline to obey commands.”
“I suppose not and there is only one thing to do if one finds such commands unacceptable, which is to resign from the service.”
“Is that what you are doing, Miss Trant?”
“If it is your wish that I should do so, I have no alternative.”
“There is an alternative. You could plead to be forgiven. I might say you are a stranger, ignorant of our etiquette. Apologies could be made to the Princess, the Countess, and other members of the Court. On grounds of ignorance you might be forgiven, providing of course that you promise not to offend again.”
“I could not give such a promise. If I were asked to witness that sickening spectacle once more I should be obliged to refuse.”
“On your own behalf perhaps. But you carried my sons with you. Do you imagine that I can allow you to instill into them ideas that are detrimental to their manhood?”
I had visions of his forcing Fritz to witness such scenes, of trying as h
e would say to “make a man of him.” No wonder the poor child was nervous; no wonder he walked in his sleep. I was ready to fight for Fritz as I had not been to fight for myself.
I said earnestly: “Fritz is a sensitive boy.”
“Why?” he cried. “Because he has been brought up by women?”
“Because he has a highly strung nature.”
“My dear Miss Trant, I have no patience with highly strung natures. I want to make a man of the boy.”
“Is it manly to gloat over the slaughter of beautiful animals?”
“What strange ideas you have. I think perhaps you might do very well in a select academy for young ladies.”
“Perhaps,” I said. “And you are telling me that I am dismissed. If that is so I will make my preparations to leave at once.”
He stood up and came to my chair. He sat on the table very close to me.
“You are of a hasty nature, Miss Trant. I do not think impetuous people make good teachers.”
“Very well. I will go.”
“But I have no personal objection to that characteristic.”
“I am glad I do not displease you in all respects.”
“It is not you who displease me, Miss Trant. It is your action yesterday.”
I half-rose. His great virility alarmed me at such close quarters. He was so like Maximilian and yet there was the subtle difference. Had I been with him that night in the hunting lodge I would never have been allowed to remain alone on the other side of that locked door. That was something I knew instinctively.
“I see that I have offended you,” I said quickly. “There is no need to continue this interview. I will go.”
“You make a custom of taking your leave unexpectedly, It is my custom to give permission for those whom I employ to come or go.”
“I presume I am no longer in your employ so that does not apply to me.”
I turned away but he was beside me. I could feel his warm breath on my neck. He caught my forearm in a tight grip.
“You will stay,” he said. Then he smiled, his eyes slightly veiled as they swept over me. “I have decided that you shall have another chance,” he went on.
I faced him boldly. “I warn you that in similar circumstances I should act in the same way.”
“We’ll see,” he said.
I took his hand from my arm and dropped it hastily; he was so surprised that he made no effort to check me.
I said: “Whenever you wish me to leave your employ, please say so.”
And with that I walked out of the Rittersaal. I crossed the courtyard and entered the fortress. I was trembling but I felt elated as though I had won a battle, which perhaps in a way I had because at least I was still employed at Klocksburg.
I sat by my window letting the air cool my cheeks. The encounter had shaken me because the bold message in the Count’s eyes told me he had marked me down for a victim. I was experienced enough to recognize his intentions. I was surprised. I had ceased to think of myself as an attractive woman. I knew I had been so in my teens, with my somewhat inconsequential high spirits, my masses of dark hair and perhaps most of all my vivacious expression. But when I had believed myself to be married and had borne a child (at least I could be sure of that) and lost it, I had changed. I knew the change was remarkable because Mrs. Greville and Aunt Matilda often said to me: “I’ve never seen anyone change as you did when you came back from that long stay abroad.”
My gaiety had been overshadowed; the tremendous doubt was there. I had loved and lost my husband and my child, and who could be the same after such an experience?
Anthony it was true had asked me to marry him. I realized I had scarcely thought of him since I had left England. He had written twice—letters full of details about the parish and his work. I should have been interested a short while ago, but I had found my attention wandering even while I had been reading them.
Ever since I had come to Klocksburg I had felt an excitement that I had not known since I had wakened in my bed to be told that my marriage had been a dream, the result of Dr. Carlsberg’s treatment. There was a firm belief within me that if ever I was to find the solution to my mystery I should find it here. For a second when I had seen the Count I had believed I had found it. But that was a delusion; and now this very Count was becoming an obstacle in my way.
I could guess what would happen. I was woman enough of the world to grasp the type of man he was; and because he was powerful in his little world he would have encountered little opposition and at first he would be attracted by it, but only for a while. It would soon begin to pall. Perhaps I should begin making inquiries at the Damenstift.
As I brooded I heard voices below, for one could hear very distinctly in that clear mountain air.
“Now, Master Fredi, you’ll behave yourself. I’ll not allow any of your games.” That was Frau Graben, the lilt of laughter in her voice; I could imagine the fat comfortable smile.
“What was the meaning of this, eh, old woman? Why did you bring her here?” The Count! The arrogant powerful man allowing Frau Graben to address him in that way. But of course the old nurse had special privileges.
“It was about time those bastards of yours were given a bit of education.”
“They had it. We didn’t need an English prude to give them that.”
“Not so prudish, Master Fredi. I’ll promise you.”
“And who are you to make promises to me?”
“Now you remember your manners, Master Fredi. I was always telling you.”
“Good God, woman, I’m not in the nursery now.”
“You’ll always be in the nursery as far as I’m concerned and that goes for your high and mighty cousin too.”
“He was always your favorite.”
“You get along with you. I had no favorites. You were both my boys and I wouldn’t let you give me your sauce then and I won’t now.”
“I should have had you turned out of Klocksburg long ago.”
“Then who’ll look after your bastards?”
“Why, you old witch, there are hundreds who’d like the opportunity.”
“But you trust your old Nana, eh?”
“No farther than the end of the Randhausburg.”
“Listen to me, Master Fredi, you turn your gaze away from Miss Trant.”
“You brought her here.”
“Not for your amusement.”
“I’ll decide where and when I’m going to be amused.”
“Not here, master.”
“Who’s to stop me? You?”
“No. She will though. She’s not for you.”
“Who said I was interested?”
“You were always interested in a fresh face—both of you. Don’t I know you? Old Nana likes you to enjoy yourselves, but not Miss Trant, Master Fredi. She’s in my care. So you give your thoughts to that little innkeeper’s daughter I’ve been hearing about.”
“Trust you to hear everything.”
She gave a high-pitched giggle.
He said: “Don’t you dare try to dictate to me, you mischievous old woman.”
They went inside the Randhausburg and I heard no more.
I was indignant that I should be discussed in this way. I had already a notion of the Count’s intentions—which were after all only the same as he would have toward any woman—but what astonished me was the familiar manner in which Frau Graben addressed him and the inference that the decision to bring me out here to teach the boys English had come from her.
When the Count had left I went to the Randhausburg and knocked at Frau Graben’s door. The air of excitement lingered about her; she looked as though she had just come from a highly diverting entertainment.
“Come in, my dear,” she said.
She was seated on her rocking chair nibbling a piece of spiced cake.
“Sit down. Would you like some tea?”
It was though she were placating me. Tea! The English could always be pacified with it!
“No thank
you.”
“I know. A glass of wine. I had some sent to me from the Moselle Valley. It’s good stuff.”
“No refreshment thank you. I really wanted to talk to you seriously.”
“Oh, you’re too serious, Miss Trant.”
“A woman on her own has to be.”
“You’re not on your own. You’ve got that nice aunt of yours and the bookshop people and what about the reverend gentleman.”
She looked slyly knowledgeable. I was beginning to think that she knew more about me than I had imagined. But of course she had stayed in Oxford; while she was there she would have fallen into conversation with the shop people, and people at her hotel, anyone who might know something about me. But how could she? She spoke very little English.
I said: “How did you know . . . ?”
“One picks up these things. You must have told me during some of our little chats.”
I said: “Did you decide that it would be a good idea for me to come over and teach the children? I mean was it entirely your idea?”
“There’d been talk. And when I was in England I thought you were just the one.” She leaned toward me, nibbling. “I took a fancy to you. I didn’t want to lose you. I wanted you to be here. After all we got on famously, didn’t we, from the moment we met.”
Those powerful men whose nurse she had been must clearly be fond of her, otherwise they would not allow her such power. I remembered the manner in which she had spoken to the haughty Count, and now it seemed she had the power to bring an English teacher into his household without consulting him.
There was evidently a softer side to the Count’s nature since he was so affectionate toward his old nurse.
“So you are allowed to add to the household if you wish?”
“I was a mother to them. There’s not always the time or inclination in people like them to look after their children. Those that are nurses to them are like their mothers. We’re a sentimental race, you know. Those who have been mothers to us mean a great deal to us.”
I was surprised. I had always known that I owed my presence here to Frau Graben but I did not think it was so completely so as it evidently was.
On the Night of the Seventh Moon Page 20
