CHAPTER II.
THE FIRST NIGHT IN THE CAPITAL.
Eric soon withdrew; he went to his chamber, but found no rest. Here he was, in the city where he had been born and brought up, living in a strange hotel, and in the service of a stranger. He quickly fought down these reflections and the weakness they engendered, and wrote a letter to his mother announcing their arrival, and begging her to let no persuasions induce her to come to the capital. He took the letter to the post himself, and spent some time in wandering through the quiet, deserted streets of the little capital. He knew every house in them. Here and there lived some companion of his youth, some family friends; what relations he should hold to them now he could not tell.
He passed the great building where the antique relics were kept, and for a moment allowed himself to fancy what his position would have been, if he had received the post of director here.
He walked restlessly to and fro, and finally entered a beer-house, took his place in a corner, and listened to the talk of the men, who, with long pipes in their mouths, were laughing at each other's poor jokes, and discussing matters of all kinds.
His attention was roused by the mention of Sonnenkamp's name; a stout, red-faced man was saying,—
"I must begin now to take my very best meat to the Victoria, for Herr Sonnenkamp knows what is good."
A printer whom Eric recognized said, "Our editor, Professor Crutius, declares that he knows Herr Sonnenkamp, but he isn't willing to tell us anything about him."
Eric's interest was still further excited. The men went on to tell of the immense sum daily paid to the landlord of the Victoria, then of Sonnenkamp's reported purchase of the Rabenecke palace, and of his admission to the ranks of the nobility as being a thing as good as settled. Here some remarks were made, in too low a tone for Eric to catch, which raised a general laugh.
"I call you to witness," said a stout man whom Eric recognized as a flour-dealer and baker, "that I say now this Herr Sonnenkamp is sent on a secret mission. The young nobles in the South want an emperor, and this Herr Sonnenkamp's designs to aim higher, perhaps, than any of us imagine."
"Then you can go with him and be court-baker," said one, whose rejoinder was received with a burst of laughter.
"What's that to us?" said another; "the man brings plenty of money into the country. If a hundred of them came, I don't care what they are after, as long as they bring us their money."
The speaker was a short, round-bodied little man with a great meerschaum pipe. He emptied his covered glass as he spoke, and called out to the bar-maid,—
"Bring me a fresh one; I have deserved it, for I am the cleverest of the lot."
Eric slipped out of the room, glad not to have been recognized.
At the door he received a friendly greeting from a young man whom he had no recollection of having seen before, but who recognized him as one of the singers at the musical festival. He was a teacher in the scientific school in the capital, and announced to Eric that he had been proposed to the school-teachers' union as an honorary member.
Eric thanked him and passed on; meeting in the street a great stream of people and carriages coming from the theatre; he hurried to the hotel, that Roland might find him there on his return, and happily arrived before his pupil. He waited in his room, but no Roland came; he went to the drawing-room, but he was not there; on the contrary, he was himself asked if Roland had not yet returned.
The Cabinetsräthin observed, with a smile, that they need feel no uneasiness, for Roland was with Cuno, and of course enjoying himself. She expressed her regrets that she too must now take leave of the company, and, drawing Sonnenkamp into the embrasure of a window, presented him with an Almanach de Gotha for the new year, a book which, as she gracefully remarked, should henceforth never appear without the name of Sonnenkamp being in it; and she bound herself from this day forth to pay him taxes in the shape of this canonical book, to be delivered to him yearly as long as she lived.
Sonnenkamp was duly grateful, and escorted the lady to her carriage.
On returning to the drawing-room, he said to Eric:—
"I had supposed you would have made Roland more worthy of confidence; in spite of his promise, he has not come home."
Eric was tempted to answer that it was the father, not he, who on this very first evening, when the boy was hardly out of the carriage, had given him permission to go his own way. He restrained himself, however; any discussion would be useless.
"I cannot go to bed till he comes," complained Frau Ceres.
"Have you any idea where we can look for him?" asked Sonnenkamp of Eric.
"It is not necessary, for here he is," returned Eric.
Roland entered.
His mother began to complain and his father to scold, because he had not kept his word.
"I deserve neither complaints nor reproaches," said Roland. "I had great difficulty in getting away from the company at the door of the restaurant whither I accompanied them, but would not go in."
All was made smooth again, and they went to bed.
"Why do you not ask me how I enjoyed the theatre?" asked Roland when he had entered his room.
"I preferred waiting for you to tell me."
"It was very fine; there were beautiful girls, and Cuno knew them all by name, and had some story to tell of every one; stupid stories they mostly were. For hours we had nothing but leaping and bending this way and that, without a word being spoken. Suddenly, I began to wonder what Benjamin Franklin would say if he could see it, and that spoiled all my pleasure. Cuno called me a snob, and I let it pass quietly, but he added something else which came near causing a duel."
"May I know what it was he added?"
"No; it was about you, but—of course you would not care for it. You are not anxious that every one should understand you, and whatever the world may say-—-"
"Say no more, dear Roland, I beg; I don't care to know what people say about me; it only burdens the mind without helping us to be better. But you have borne yourself well, and may sleep with an easy conscience. This has been your first experience under fire, and will not be your last. Only keep true to yourself and to me. Good-night."
Eric lay down with happy thoughts, and with happy thoughts Roland fell asleep.