"Haughtily? frivolously?"
"Neither the one nor the other. I confess frankly, Innstetten, it staggered me. When I mentioned your name he turned as pale as death, but tried hard to compose himself, and I saw a twitching about the corners of his mouth. But it was only a moment till he had regained his composure and after that he was all sorrowful resignation. I am quite certain he feels that he will not come out of the affair alive, and he doesn"t care to. If I judge him correctly he is fond of living and at the same time indifferent about it. He takes life as it comes and knows that it amounts to but little."
"Who is his second? Or let me say, rather, whom will he bring along?"
"That was what worried him most after he had recovered himself. He mentioned two or three n.o.blemen of the vicinity, but dropped their names, saying they were too old and too pious, and that he would telegraph to Treptow for his friend Buddenbrook. Buddenbrook came and is a capital man, at once resolute and childlike. He was unable to calm himself, and paced back and forth in the greatest excitement. But when I had told him all he said exactly as you and I: "You are right, it must be.""
The coffee came. They lighted their cigars and Wullersdorf again sought to turn the conversation to more indifferent things. "I am surprised that n.o.body from Kessin has come to greet you. I know you were very popular. What is the matter with your friend Gieshubler?"
Innstetten smiled. "You don"t know the people here on the coast. They are half Philistines and half wiseacres, not much to my taste. But they have one virtue, they are all very mannerly, and none more so than my old Gieshubler. Everybody knows, of course, what it is about, and for that very reason they take pains not to appear inquisitive."
At this moment there came into view to the left a chaise-like carriage with the top down, which, as it was ahead of time, drove up very slowly.
"Is that ours?" asked Innstetten.
"Presumably."
A moment later the carriage stopped in front of the hotel and Innstetten and Wullersdorf arose to their feet. Wullersdorf stepped over to the coachman and said: "To the mole."
The mole lay in the wrong direction of the beach, to the right instead of the left, and the false orders were given merely to avoid any possible interference. Besides, whether they intended to keep to the right or to the left after they were beyond the city limits, they had to pa.s.s through the "Plantation" in either case, and so their course led unavoidably past Innstetten"s old residence. The house seemed more quiet than formerly. If the rooms on the ground floor looked rather neglected, what must have been the state upstairs! The uncanny feeling that Innstetten had so often combatted in Effi, or had at least laughed at, now came over him, and he was glad when they had driven past.
"That is where I used to live," he said to Wullersdorf.
"It looks strange, rather deserted and abandoned."
"It may be. In the city it was called a haunted house and from the way it stands there today I cannot blame people for thinking so."
"What did they tell about it?"
"Oh, stupid nonsense. An old ship"s captain with a granddaughter or a niece, who one fine day disappeared, and then a Chinaman, who was probably her lover. In the hall a small shark and a crocodile, both hung up by strings and always in motion, wonderful to relate, but now is no time for that, when my head is full of all sorts of other phantoms."
"You forget that it may all turn out well yet."
"It must not. A while ago, Wullersdorf, when you were speaking about Crampas, you yourself spoke differently."
Soon thereafter they had pa.s.sed through the "Plantation" and the coachman was about to turn to the right toward the mole. "Drive to the left, rather. The mole can wait."
The coachman turned to the left into the broad driveway, which ran behind the men"s bathhouse toward the forest. When they were within three hundred paces of the forest Wullersdorf ordered the coachman to stop. Then the two walked through grinding sand down a rather broad driveway, which here cut at right angles through the three rows of dunes. All along the sides of the road stood thick clumps of lyme gra.s.s, and around them immortelles and a few blood-red pinks.
Innstetten stooped down and put one of the pinks in his b.u.t.tonhole.
"The immortelles later."
They walked on thus for five minutes. When they had come to the rather deep depression which ran along between the two outer rows of dunes they saw their opponents off to the left, Crampas and Buddenbrook, and with them good Dr. Hannemann, who held his hat in his hand, so that his white hair was waving in the wind.
Innstetten and Wullersdorf walked up the sand defile; Buddenbrook came to meet them. They exchanged greetings and then the two seconds stepped aside for a brief conference. They agreed that the opponents should advance _a tempo_ and shoot when ten paces apart. Then Buddenbrook returned to his place. Everything was attended to quickly, and the shots were fired. Crampas fell.
Innstetten stepped back a few paces and turned his face away from the scene. Wullersdorf walked over to Buddenbrook and the two awaited the decision of the doctor, who shrugged his shoulders. At the same time Crampas indicated by a motion of his hand that he wished to say something. Wullersdorf bowed down to him, nodded his a.s.sent to the few words, which could scarcely be heard as they came from the lips of the dying man, and then went toward Innstetten.
"Crampas wishes to speak to you, Innstetten. You must comply with his wish. He hasn"t three minutes more to live."
Innstetten walked over to Crampas.
"Will you--" were the dying man"s last words. Then a painful, yet almost friendly expression in his eyes, and all was over.
CHAPTER XXIX
In the evening of the same day Innstetten was back again in Berlin. He had taken the carriage, which he had left by the crossroad behind the dunes, directly for the railway station, without returning to Kessin, and had left to the seconds the duty of reporting to the authorities.
On the train he had a compartment to himself, which enabled him to commune with his own mind and live the event all over again. He had the same thoughts as two days before, except that they ran in the opposite direction, beginning with conviction as to his rights and his duty and ending in doubt. "Guilt, if it is anything at all, is not limited by time and place and cannot pa.s.s away in a night. Guilt requires expiation; there is some sense in that. Limitation, on the other hand, only half satisfies; it is weak, or at least it is prosaic." He found comfort in this thought and said to himself over and over that what had happened was inevitable. But the moment he reached this conclusion he rejected it. "There must be a limitation; limitation is the only sensible solution. Whether or not it is prosaic is immaterial. What is sensible is usually prosaic. I am now forty-five. If I had found the letters twenty-five years later I should have been seventy. Then Wullersdorf would have said: "Innstetten, don"t be a fool." And if Wullersdorf didn"t say it, Buddenbrook would, and if _he_ didn"t, either, I myself should. That is clear. When we carry a thing to extremes we carry it too far and make ourselves ridiculous. No doubt about it. But where does it begin?
Where is the limit? Within ten years a duel is required and we call it an affair of honor. After eleven years, or perhaps ten and a half, we call it nonsense. The limit, the limit. Where is it? Was it reached?
Was it pa.s.sed? When I recall his last look, resigned and yet smiling in his misery, that look said: "Innstetten, this is stickling for principle. You might have spared me this, and yourself, too." Perhaps he was right. I hear some such voice in my soul. Now if I had been full of deadly hatred, if a deep feeling of revenge had found a place in my heart--Revenge is not a thing of beauty, but a human trait and has naturally a human right to exist. But this affair was all for the sake of an idea, a conception, was artificial, half comedy. And now I must continue this comedy, must send Effi away and ruin her, and myself, too--I ought to have burned the letters, and the world should never have been permitted to hear about them. And then when she came, free from suspicion, I ought to have said to her: "Here is your place," and ought to have parted from her inwardly, not before the eyes of the world. There are so many marriages that are not marriages.
Then happiness would have been gone, but I should not have had the eye staring at me with its searching look and its mild, though mute, accusation."
Shortly before ten o"clock Innstetten alighted in front of his residence. He climbed the stairs and rang the bell. Johanna came and opened the door.
"How is Annie?"
"Very well, your Lordship. She is not yet asleep--If your Lordship--"
"No, no, it would merely excite her. It would be better to wait till morning to see her. Bring me a gla.s.s of tea, Johanna. Who has been here?"
"n.o.body but the doctor."
Innstetten was again alone. He walked to and fro as he loved to do.
"They know all about it. Roswitha is stupid, but Johanna is a clever person. If they don"t know accurate details, they have made up a story to suit themselves and so they know anyhow. It is remarkable how many things become indications and the basis for tales, as though the whole world had been present."
Johanna brought the tea, and Innstetten drank it. He was tired to death from the overexertion and went to sleep.
The next morning he was up in good season. He saw Annie, spoke a few words with her, praised her for being a good patient, and then went to the Ministry to make a report to his chief of all that had happened.
The minister was very gracious. "Yes, Innstetten, happy is the man who comes out of all that life may bring to us whole. It has gone hard with you." He approved all that had taken place and left the rest to Innstetten.
It was late in the afternoon when Innstetten returned home and found there a few lines from Wullersdorf. "Returned this morning. A world of experiences--painful, touching--Gieshubler particularly. The most amiable humpback I ever saw. About you he did not say so very much, but the wife, the wife! He could not calm himself and finally the little man broke out in tears. What strange things happen! It would be better if we had more Gieshublers. But there are more of the other sort--Then the scene at the home of the major--dreadful. Excuse me from speaking about it. I have learned once more to be on my guard. I shall see you tomorrow. Yours, W."
Innstetten was completely staggered when he read the note. He sat down and wrote a few words in reply. When he had finished he rang the bell.
"Johanna, put these letters in the box."
Johanna took the letters and was on the point of going.
"And then, Johanna, one thing more. My wife is not coming back. You will hear from others why. Annie must not know anything about it, at least not now. The poor child. You must break the news to her gradually that she has no mother any more. I can"t do it. But be wise about it, and don"t let Roswitha spoil it all."
Johanna stood there a moment quite stupefied, and then went up to Innstetten and kissed his hand.
By the time she had reached the kitchen her heart was overflowing with pride and superiority, indeed almost with happiness. His Lordship had not only told her everything, he had even added the final injunction, "and don"t let Roswitha spoil it all." That was the most important point. And although she had a kindly feeling and even sympathy for her mistress, nevertheless the thing that above all else occupied her was the triumph of a certain intimate relation to her gracious master.
Under ordinary conditions it would have been easy for her to display and a.s.sert this triumph, but today it so happened that her rival, without having been made a confidante, was nevertheless destined to appear the better informed of the two. Just about at the same time as the above conversation was taking place the porter had called Roswitha into his little lodge downstairs and handed her as she entered a newspaper to read. "There, Roswitha, is something that will interest you. You can bring it back to me later. It is only the _Foreigners" Gazette_, but Lena has already gone out to get the _Minor Journal_. There will probably be more in it. They always know everything. Say, Roswitha, who would have thought such a thing!"
Roswitha, who was ordinarily none too curious, had, however, after these words betaken herself as quickly as possible up the back stairs and had just finished reading the account when Johanna came to her.