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Villa Eden: The Country-House on the Rhine. Auerbach Berthold
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Автор произведения Auerbach Berthold
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A glance towards Roland brought the doctor to his senses; it was not well to make Eric a subject of ridicule in this way. He therefore turned the conversation, and gave Eric, whom he called with special friendliness Herr Colleague, an opportunity to narrate many interesting incidents of the collegiate and military life. The Major nodded approval; through Eric's conversation he was left in peace, and could give his undisturbed attention to eating and drinking. Under the napkin which he had pinned to his shoulders, he opened his uniform. It is well, he thought, that Fräulein Milch has furnished me with such a nice white vest, and it ought to be seen. He was on the best of terms with the servants, and whilst they were changing the wine, it only needed a wink to Joseph, a universal favorite, and he immediately poured out some choice Burgundy from the sparkling crystal decanter for the Major.
The Major drank no more. The conversation had taken a happy turn, after Eric began to speak of the Geneva convention for the care of those wounded in battle. This was a good common point of union for the priest, the physician, and the soldier, and, for a time, the conversation at table was harmonious and well-sustained.
The Major, in a loud tone, declared that men who did not like to have their names mentioned were the original movers in this, as in all other humane arrangements. The physician remarked to Eric, in a lower tone than ordinary, that the Major attributed to the Freemasons all the good in the world, and if he wished to keep in his good graces, he must never say anything against Freemasonry.
The entire table listened with great attention to Eric, as he asserted that we ought to be proud to see in our century such an arrangement established on the ground of pure humanity; and the priest himself nodded in assent, when Eric added that the Christian religion, in its self-sacrificing devotion to the care of the sick, had attained an elevated position, purer and loftier than had ever before been reached, in any age, and under any dispensation.
Roland was happy to see the gleaming eyes of all resting upon Eric, and collected them all in one focus for him.
They arose from table, and a blessing seemed to have descended upon the whole repast. The priest engaged in silent prayer, and the Major, coming to Eric, pressed his hand rather tightly, saying in a subdued tone: —
"You are one already, you must learn the signs."
Eric was so excited, that he hardly heard what the old man said, although he expressed his highest possible esteem in this readiness to accept him as a Freemason.
"See," cried the doctor, impudently, "see how much whiter the hair of our Major has turned."
And it actually seemed so, for the face of the Major was so permanently red, that its color seemed incapable of being deepened, and now from the excitement of the conversation and the wine, the whiteness of the hair was in reality discerned with greater distinctness.
"The Major's hair has become whiter," everybody now said, and the bewildered smile, that was always round his mouth, exploded in a loud laugh.
CHAPTER III.
THE WORLD OUTSIDE
The doctor was informed, immediately after dinner, that many patients were waiting for him, for it was generally known that he dined on Sunday here at the villa. He hastily took a cigar from Sonnenkamp, and said that Eric must accompany him, as he wished to speak with him. He said this in a positive manner admitting of no refusal.
After they had turned the corner, the physician extended his hand to Eric, saying in a hearty tone, —
"I am the scholar of your grandfather, and I also knew your father at the University."
"I am very glad to hear it; but why did you not tell me that at once?" The doctor looked at him awhile from head to foot, then he laid both hands on his shoulders, and shaking his head, but in a cordial tone, said, —
"I have been mistaken in you. I thought that the species idealist had died out; you are doctor of world-wisdom, but not doctor of worldly wisdom. Dear captain-doctor, what's the need of their knowing yonder how you and I stand with each other? – So you wish to live with Herr Sonnenkamp?"
"Why not?"
"The man can't weep if he would, and you – ?"
"Well, and I?"
"With you the tear-sack is filled at every emotion, as when you spoke there of your father, and of the noble care of the sick – you have a talent for hypochondria."
Eric was struck. This style of personal criticism was novel to him, but before he could reply, the doctor called to the waiting group of patients standing at the entrance of the porter's lodge, —
"I am coming in a moment! Wait here for me, and I'll come back soon," he said now to Eric, and went up to the group, all of whom took off their hats and caps. He spoke with one and another, taking out a blank book with loose leaves, and writing several prescriptions, with the back of a broad-shouldered man for a desk, and giving to others only verbal directions.
Eric stood in a fixed attitude, and he realized that he was wanting in worldly wisdom, but a deep feeling of happiness took possession of him, that his grandfather and father sent him here a friend. An unknown and inestimable inheritance was awaiting him in all places, like a harvest gathering in from all quarters; he regarded the family and its rich possessions with a different feeling; he was no longer poor.
The physician, coming back, said with a more cheerful countenance, —
"I am now free. Count Clodwig has told me about you, but he has given me a wrong impression of you. Never mind! Every one sees, standing in the centre of his own horizon, his own rainbow. I wished only to say to you, that what one – pardon me – what one does for you, is hardly the payment of interest, for no human being has done more for others than your grandfather and your father. Now allow yourself for once to undergo a regular examination. I saw you years ago, when you were coupled with the prince."
The doctor receded a step from Eric, and continued, —
"The crossing of races is a good one. Father, Huguenot, – Mother, pure German, real blond, delicate organization, – proper mixture of nationalities. Come with me into the arbor. Will you allow me a brief and concise diagnosis?"
Eric smiled; the physician's method of passing him under review and pronouncing verdict upon him seemed extremely odd, but yet he felt attracted.
Striking off on a twig the ashes from his cigar, the doctor asked, —
"Can you have intercourse with any one day by day, and not like him, or at least have some regard for him?"
"I have never tried it, but I think not; and such an intercourse assuredly hurts the soul."
"I expected this answer. For my part, I say with Lessing, It is better to live among bad people, than to live apart from everybody. May I ask still another question?"
But without waiting for a reply, he continued, —
"Have you ever experienced ingratitude?"
"I think that I have, as yet, done nothing which deserves gratitude. Especially may we ask, Ought we to lay claim to any thanks, inasmuch as what we do in behalf of others, we do, first of all, to secure our own self-approval."
"Good, good. Wise already. Yet one thing more. Do you believe in natural depravity, and if you do, since when?"
"If by depravity you mean the conscious delight in injuring others, then I am no believer in it, for I am convinced that all evil doing is only a stepping over the limits of a justifiable self-preservation; it is only an excess caused by sophistry or passion. Perhaps the belief in depravity is also merely passion."
The doctor nodded several times, and then said, —
"Only one question more. Are you sensitive – vulnerable?"
"I might perhaps urge your friendly testing as a proof that I am not."
The doctor threw away the cigar, which he had not wholly smoked up, and said, —
"Excuse me, I was in an error; my final question has another at the end of it. Now to conclude: