Chapter V.

by Bret Harte

　　It was on the 3d of August, 1863, that Paul Hathaway resignedhimself and his luggage to the care of the gold-laced, ostensibleporter of the Strudle Bad Hof, not without some uncertainty, in aland of uniforms, whether he would be eventually conducted to thebarracks, the police office, or the Conservatoire. He was relievedwhen the omnibus drove into the courtyard of the Bad Hof, and thegold-chained chamberlain, flanked by two green tubs of oleanders,received him with a gravity calculated to check any preconceivedidea he might have that traveling was a trifling affair, or that anarrival at the Bad Hof was not of serious moment. His letters hadnot yet arrived, for he had, in a fit of restlessness, shortenedhis route, and he strolled listlessly into the reading-room. Twoor three English guests were evidently occupied in eminentlyrespectable reading and writing; two were sitting by the windowengaged in subdued but profitable conversation; and two Americansfrom Boston were contentedly imitating them on the other side ofthe room. A decent restraint, as of people who were not for amoment to be led into any foreign idea of social gayety at awatering-place, was visible everywhere. A spectacled Prussianofficer in full uniform passed along the hall, halted for a momentat the doorway as if contemplating an armed invasion, thoughtbetter of it, and took his uniform away into the sunlight of theopen square, where it was joined by other uniforms, and became bycontrast a miracle of unbraced levity. Paul stood the Polarsilence for a few moments, until one of the readers arose and,taking his book--a Murray--in his hand, walked slowly across theroom to a companion, mutely pointed to a passage in the book,remained silent until the other had dumbly perused it, and thenwalked back again to his seat, having achieved the incident withouta word. At which Paul, convinced of his own incongruity, softlywithdrew with his hat in his hand, and his eyes fixed devotionallyupon it.It was good after that to get into the slanting sunlight andcheckered linden shadows of the Allee; to see even a tightlyjacketed cavalryman naturally walking with Clarchen and her tworound-faced and drab-haired young charges; to watch the returninginvalid procession, very real and very human, each individualintensely involved in the atmosphere of his own symptoms; and verygood after that to turn into the Thiergarten, where the animals,were, however, chiefly of his own species, and shamelessly andopenly amusing themselves. It was pleasant to contrast it with hisfirst visit to the place three months before, and correct his crudeimpressions. And it was still more pleasant suddenly to recognize,under the round flat cap of a general officer, a former travelerwho was fond of talking with him about America with an intelligenceand understanding of it that Paul had often missed among his owntraveled countrymen. It was pleasant to hear his unaffected andsimple greeting, to renew their old acquaintance, and to saunterback to the hotel together through the long twilight.They were only a few squares from the hotel, when Paul's attentionwas attracted by the curiosity and delight of two or three childrenbefore him, who appeared to be following a quaint-looking figurethat was evidently not unfamiliar to them. It appeared to be aservant in a striking livery of green with yellow facings andcrested silver buttons, but still more remarkable for theindescribable mingling of jaunty ease and conscious dignity withwhich he carried off his finery. There was something so singularand yet so vaguely reminiscent in his peculiar walk and theexaggerated swing of his light bamboo cane that Paul could not onlyunderstand the childish wonder of the passers-by, who turned tolook after him, but was stirred with a deeper curiosity. Hequickened his pace, but was unable to distinguish anything of theface or features of the stranger, except that his hair under hiscocked hat appeared to be tightly curled and powdered. Paul'scompanion, who was amused at what seemed to be the American'snational curiosity, had seen the figure before. "A servant in thesuite of some Eastern Altesse visiting the baths. You will seestranger things, my friend, in the Strudle Bad. Par example, yourown countrymen, too; the one who has enriched himself by that porkof Chicago, or that soap, or this candle, in a carriage with thecrest of the title he has bought in Italy with his dollars, and hisbeautiful daughters, who are seeking more titles with possiblematrimonial contingencies."After an early dinner, Paul found his way to the little theatre.He had already been struck by a highly colored poster near theBahnhof, purporting that a distinguished German company would givea representation of "Uncle Tom's Cabin," and certain peculiaritiesin the pictorial advertisement of the tableaux gave promise of someentertainment. He found the theatre fairly full; there was theusual contingent of abonnirte officers, a fair sprinkling ofEnglish and German travelers, but apparently none of his owncountrymen. He had no time to examine the house more closely, forthe play, commencing with simple punctuality, not only far exceededthe promise of the posters, but of any previous performance of theplay he had witnessed. Transported at once to a gorgeous tropicalregion--the slave States of America--resplendent with the fruitsand palms of Mauritius, and peopled exclusively with Paul andVirginia's companions in striped cotton, Hathaway managed to keep acomposed face, until the arrival of the good Southern planter St.Clair as one of the earlier portraits of Goethe, in top boots,light kerseymere breeches, redingote and loose Byron collar,compelled him to shrink into the upper corner of the box with hishandkerchief to his face. Luckily, the action passed as thenatural effect upon a highly sympathetic nature of religiousinterviews between a round-faced flaxen-haired "Kleine Eva" and"Onkeel Tome," occasionally assisted by a Dissenting clergyman inGeneva bands; of excessive brutality with a cattle whip by aZamiel-like Legree; of the sufferings of a runaway negroZimmermadchen with a child three shades lighter than herself; andof a painted canvas "man-hunt," where apparently four well knownGerman composers on horseback, with flowing hair, top boots, and aCor de chasse, were pursuing, with the aid of a pack of fox hounds,"the much too deeply abused and yet spiritually elevated OnkeelTome." Paul did not wait for the final apotheosis of "der KleineEva," but, in the silence of a hushed audience, made his way intothe corridor and down the staircase. He was passing an open doormarked "Direction," when his attention was sharply attracted by asmall gathering around it and the sounds of indignant declamation.It was the voice of a countryman--more than that, it was a familiarvoice, that he had not heard for three years--the voice of ColonelHarry Pendleton!"Tell him," said Pendleton, in scathing tones, to some invisibleinterpreter,--"tell, him, sir, that a more infamous caricature ofthe blankest caricature that ever maligned a free people, sir, Inever before had the honor of witnessing. Tell him that I, sir--I,Harry Pendleton, of Kentucky, a Southerner, sir--an oldslaveholder, sir, declare it to be a tissue of falsehoods unworthythe credence of a Christian civilization like this--unworthy theattention of the distinguished ladies and gentlemen that aregathered here to-night. Tell him, sir, he has been imposed upon.Tell him I am responsible--give him my card and address--personallyresponsible for what I say. If he wants proofs--blank it all!--tell him you yourself have been a slave--my slave, sir! Take offyour hat, sir! Ask him to look at you--ask him if he thinks youever looked or could look like that lop-eared, psalm-singing,white-headed hypocrite on the stage! Ask him, sir, if he thinksthat blank ringmaster they call St. Clair looks like me!"At this astounding exordium Paul eagerly pressed forward andentered the bureau. There certainly was Colonel Pendleton, inspotless evening dress; erect, flashing, and indignant; hisaquiline nose lifted like a hawk's beak over his quarry, his iron-gray moustache, now white and waxed, parted like a swallow's tailover his handsome mouth, and between him and the astounded"Direction" stood the apparition of the Allee--George! There wasno mistaking him now. What Paul had thought was a curled wig orpowder was the old negro's own white knotted wool, and theastounding livery he wore was carried off as no one but Georgecould carry it.But he was still more amazed when the old servant, in a German asexaggerated, as incoherent, but still as fluent and persuasive ashis own native speech, began an extravagant but perfectly dignifiedand diplomatic translation of his master's protests. Where andwhen, by what instinct, he had assimilated and made his own thegrotesque inversions and ponderous sentimentalities of Teutonicphrasing, Paul could not guess; but it was with breathless wonderthat he presently became aware that, so perfect and convincing wasthe old man's style and deportment, not only the simple officialsbut even the bystanders were profoundly impressed by this farragoof absurdity. A happy word here and there, the full title and rankgiven, even with a slight exaggeration, to each individual, broughta deep and guttural "So!" from lips that would have found itdifficult to repeat a line of his ceremonious idiocy.In their preoccupation neither the colonel nor George had perceivedPaul's entrance, but, as the old servant turned with magnificentcourtesy towards the bystanders, his eyes fell upon Paul. A flashof surprise, triumph, and satisfaction lit up his rolling eyes.Paul instantly knew that he not only recognized him, but that hehad already heard of and thoroughly appreciated a certaindistinguished position that Paul had lately held, and was quick toapply it. Intensifying for a moment the grandiloquence of hismanner, he called upon his master's most distinguished and happilyarrived old friend, the Lord Lieutenant Governor of the GoldenCalifornias, to corroborate his statement. Colonel Pendletonstarted, and grasped Paul's hand warmly. Paul turned to thealready half-mollified Director with the diplomatic suggestion thatthe vivid and realistic acting of the admirable company which hehimself had witnessed had perhaps unduly excited his old friend,even as it had undoubtedly thrown into greater relief the usualexaggerations of dramatic representation, and the incidentterminated with a profusion of apologies, and the most cordialexpressions of international good feeling on both sides.Yet, as they turned away from the theatre together, Paul could nothelp noticing that, although the colonel's first greeting had beenspontaneous and unaffected, it was succeeded by an uneasy reserve.Paul made no attempt to break it, and confined himself to a fewgeneral inquiries, ending by inviting the colonel to sup with himat the hotel. Pendleton hesitated. "At any other time, Mr.Hathaway, I should have insisted upon you, as the stranger, suppingwith me; but since the absence of--of--the rest of my party--I havegiven up my suite of rooms at the Bad Hof, and have taken smallerlodgings for myself and the boy at the Schwartze Adler. Miss Woodsand Miss Arguello have accepted an invitation to spend a few daysat the villa of the Baron and Baroness von Schilprecht--an hour ortwo from here." He lingered over the title with an odd mingling ofimpressiveness and inquiry, and glanced at Paul. But Hathawayexhibiting neither emotion nor surprise at the mention of Yerba'sname or the title of her host, he continued, "Miss Arguello, Isuppose you know, is immensely admired: she has been, sir, theacknowledged belle of Strudle Bad.""I can readily believe it," said Paul, simply."And has taken the position--the position, sir, to which she isentitled."Without appearing to notice the slight challenge in Pendleton'stone, Paul returned, "I am glad to hear it. The more particularlyas, I believe, the Germans are great sticklers for position andpedigree.""You are right, sir--quite right: they are," said the colonel,proudly--"although"--with a certain premeditated deliberation--"Ihave been credibly informed that the King can, in certain cases, ifhe chooses, supply--yes, sir--supply a favored person withancestors--yes, sir, with ancestors!"Paul cast a quick glance at his companion."Yes, sir--that is, we will say, in the case of a lady of inferiorrank--or even birth, the King of these parts can, on her marriagewith a nobleman--blank it all!--ennoble her father and mother, andtheir fathers and mothers, though they've been dead, or as good asdead, for years.""I am afraid that's a slight exaggeration of the rare custom ofgranting 'noble lands,' or estates that carry hereditary titleswith them," said Paul, more emphatically, perhaps, than theoccasion demanded."Fact, sir--George there knows it all," said Pendleton. "He getsit from the other servants. I don't speak the language, sir, buthe does. Picked it up in a year.""I must compliment him on his fluency, certainly," said Paul,looking at George.The old servant smiled, and not without a certain condescension."Yes, sah; I don' say to a scholar like yo'self, sah, dat I'se gotde grandmatical presichion; but as fah, sah--as fah as de idiotismsob de language goes. Sah--it's gen'lly allowed I'm dar! As towhat Marse Harry says ob de ignobling ob predecessors, I've had it,sah, from de best autority, sah--de furst, I may say, sah--de realprima facie men--de gemplum ob his Serene Highness, in de korse ebordinary conversashun, sah.""That'll do, George," said Pendleton, with paternal brusqueness."Run on ahead and tell that blank chamberlain that Mr. Hathaway isone of my friends--and have supper accordingly." As the negrohastened away he turned to Paul: "What he says is true: he's themost popular man or boy in all Strudle Bad--a devilish sight morethan his master--and goes anywhere where I can't go. Princes andprincesses stop and talk to him in the street; the Grand Duke askedpermission to have him up in his carriage at the races the otherday; and, by the Eternal, sir, he gives the style to all theflunkeys in town!""And I see, he dresses the character," observed Paul."His own idea--entirely. And, by Jove! he proves to be right. Youcan't do anything here without a uniform. And they tell me he'sgot everything correct, down to the crest on the buttons."They walked on in silence for a few moments, Pendleton retaining acertain rigidity of step and bearing which Paul had come torecognize as indicating some uneasiness or mental disturbance onhis part. Hathaway had no intention of precipitating theconfidence of his companion. Perhaps experience had told him itwould come soon enough. So he spoke carelessly of himself. Howthe need of a year's relaxation and change had brought him abroad,his journeyings, and, finally, how he had been advised by hisGerman physician to spend a few weeks at Strudle Bad preparatory tothe voyage home. Yet he was perfectly aware that the colonel fromtime to time cast a furtive glance at his face. "And you," he saidin conclusion--"when do you intend to return to California?"The colonel hesitated slightly. "I shall remain in Europe untilMiss Arguello is settled--I mean," he added hurriedly, "until shehas--ahem!--completed her education in foreign ways and customs.You see, Hathaway, I have constituted myself, after a certainfashion, I may say--still, her guardian. I am an old man, withneither kith nor kin myself, sir--I'm a little too old-fashionedfor the boys over there"--with a vague gesture towards the west,which, however, told Paul how near it still was to him. "But then,among the old fogys here--blank it all!--it isn't noticed. So Ilook after her, you see, or rather make myself responsible for hergenerally--although, of course, she has other friends andassociates, you understand, more of her own age and tastes.""And I've no doubt she's perfectly satisfied," said Paul in a toneof conviction."Well, yes, sir, I presume so," said the colonel slowly; "but I'vesometimes thought, Mr. Hathaway, that it would have been better ifshe'd have had a woman's care--the protection you understand, of anelderly woman of society. That seems to be the style here, youknow--a chaperon, they call it. Now, Milly Woods, you see, isabout the same age, and the Dona Anna, of course, is older, but--blank itI mean," he added,correcting himself sharply, "she lacks balance, sir, and--whatshall I call it?--self-abnegation.""Then Dona Anna is still of your party?" asked Paul."She is, sir, and her brother, Don Caesar. I have thought itadvisable, on Yerba's account, to keep up as much as possible thesuggestion of her Spanish relationship--although by reason of theirabsurd ignorance of geography and political divisions out here,there is a prevailing impression that she is a South American. Afact, sir. I have myself been mistaken for the Dictator of one ofthese infernal Republics, and I have been pointed out as rulingover a million or two of niggers like George!"There was no trace of any conception of humor in the colonel'sface, although he uttered a short laugh, as if in polite acceptanceof the possibility that Paul might have one. Far from that, hiscompanion, looking at the striking profile and erect figure at hisside--at the long white moustache which drooped from his darkcheeks, and remembering his own sensations at first seeing George--thought the popular belief not so wonderful. He was even forced toadmit that the perfect unconsciousness on the part of master andman of any incongruity or peculiarity in themselves assisted thepublic misconception. And it was, I fear, with a feeling of wickeddelight that, on entering the hotel, he hailed the evidentconsternation of those correct fellow-countrymen from whom he hadlately fled, at what they apparently regarded as a nationalscandal. He overheard their hurried assurance to their Englishfriends that his companions were not from Boston, and enjoyed theirmortification that this explanation did not seem to detract fromthe interest and relief with which the Britons surveyed them, orthe open admiration of the Germans.Although Pendleton somewhat unbent during supper, he did not alludeto the secret of Yerba's parentage, nor of any tardy confidence ofhers. To all appearance the situation remained as it was threeyears ago. He spoke of her great popularity as an heiress and abeautiful woman, and the marked attentions she received. Hedoubted not that she had rejected very distinguished offers, butshe kept that to herself. She was perfectly competent to do so.She was no giddy girl, to be flattered or deceived; on thecontrary, he had never known a cooler or more sensible woman. Sheknew her own worth. When she met the man who satisfied herambition and understanding, she would marry, and not before. Hedid not know what that ambition was; it was something exalted, ofcourse. He could only say, of his own knowledge, that last year,when they were on the Italian lakes, there was a certain prince--Mr. Hathaway would understand why he did not mention names--who wasnot only attentive to her, but attentive to him, sir, by Jove! andmost significant in his inquiries. It was the only occasion whenhe, the colonel, had ever spoken to her on such subjects; and,knowing that she was not indifferent to the fellow, who was not badof his kind, he had asked her why she had not encouraged his suit.She had said, with a laugh, that he couldn't marry her unless hegave up his claim of succession to a certain reigning house; andshe wouldn't accept him without it. Those were her words, sir, andhe could only say that the prince left a few days afterwards, andthey had never seen him since. As to the princelings and countsand barons, she knew to a day the date of their patents ofnobility, and what privileges they were entitled to; she could tellto a dot the value of their estates, the amount of their debts,and, by Jove! sir, the amount of mortgages she was expected to payoff before she married them. She knew the amount of income she hadto bring to the Prussian Army, from the general to the lieutenant.She understood her own value and her rights. There was a youngEnglish lordling she met on the Rhine, whose boyish ways andsimplicity seemed to please her. They were great friends; but hewanted him--the colonel--to induce her to accept an invitation forboth to visit his mother's home in England, that his people mightsee her. But she declined, sir! She declined to pass in reviewbefore his mother. She said it was for him to pass in reviewbefore her mother."Did she say that?" interrupted Paul, fixing his bright eyes uponthe colonel."If she had one, if she had one," corrected the colonel, hastily."Of course it was only an illustration. That she is an orphan isgenerally known, sir."There was a dead silence for a few moments. The colonel leanedback in his chair and pulled his moustache. Paul turned away hiseyes, and seemed absorbed in reflection. After a moment thecolonel coughed, pushed aside his glass, and, leaning across thetable, said, "I have a favor to ask of you, Mr. Hathaway."There was such a singular change in the tone of his voice, anunexpected relaxation of some artificial tension,--a relaxationwhich struck Paul so pathetically as being as much physical asmental, as if he had suddenly been overtaken in some exertion bythe weakness of age,--that he looked up quickly. Certainly,although still erect and lightly grasping his moustache, thecolonel looked older."By all means, my dear colonel," said Paul warmly."During the time you remain here you can hardly help meeting MissArguello, perhaps frequently. It would be strange if you did not;it would appear to everybody still stranger. Give me your word asa gentleman that you will not make the least allusion to her of thepast--nor reopen the subject."Paul looked fixedly at the colonel. "I certainly had no intentionof doing so," he said after a pause, "for I thought it was alreadysettled by you beyond disturbance or discussion. But do Iunderstand you, that she has shown any uneasiness regarding it?From what you have just told me of her plans and ambition, I canscarcely imagine that she has any suspicion of the real facts.""Certainly not," said the colonel hurriedly. "But I have yourpromise.""I promise you," said Paul, after a pause, "that I shall neitherintroduce nor refer to the subject myself, and that if she shouldquestion me again regarding it, which is hardly possible, I willreveal nothing without your consent.""Thank you," said Pendleton, without, however, exhibiting muchrelief in his face. "She will return here to-morrow.""I thought you said she was absent for some days," said Paul."Yes; but she is coming back to say good-by to Dona Anna, whoarrives here with her brother the same day, on their way to Paris."It flashed through Paul's mind that the last time he had seen herwas in the company of the Briones. It was not a pleasantcoincidence. Yet he was not aware that it had affected him, untilhe saw the colonel watching him."I believe you don't fancy the brother," said Pendleton.For an instant Paul was strongly tempted to avow his old vaguesuspicions of Don Caesar, but the utter hopelessness of reopeningthe whole subject again, and his recollection of the passage inPendleton's letter that purported to be Yerba's own theory of hisdislike, checked him in time. He only said, "I don't rememberwhether I had any cause for disliking Don Caesar; I can tell betterwhen I see him again," and changed the subject. A few momentslater the colonel summoned George from some lower region of thehotel, and rose to take his leave. "Miss Arguello, with her maidand courier, will occupy her old suite of rooms here," he remarked,with a return of his old imperiousness. "George has given theorders for her. I shall not change my present lodgings, but ofcourse will call every day. Goodnight!"