CHAPTER XXI.
LEARN THE EVIL THAT IS IN MAN.
Villa Eden had hitherto been surrounded by a mysterious magic. Fear and envy had given rise to the report that there was something wrong about the inmates; about Herr Sonnenkamp, whom everybody saw, and Frau Ceres, whom scarcely anybody saw. The threats of spring-guns and man-traps posted upon the walls imbued the ignorant people in the neighborhood with an almost superstitious fear. It was even said that Herr Sonnenkamp had smeared the trap with a poison for which there was no antidote. The servants of the house affected somewhat the reserve of their superiors; they had little intercourse with others, and were hardly saluted by them. But the mysterious dragon, which, no one knew how or where, kept secret watch over the villa, seemed nothing but a scarecrow after this robbery; the beautiful white house was stripped of its charm; it was as if all the bolts were thrown back. Quickly the report gained ground that the house-servants had committed the robbery.
The people on the roads and in the villages through which the carriage passed looked up and nodded to Eric, Roland, and Pranken, as they drove swiftly by. The few who raised their caps did it hesitatingly, as if they, like the rest, would say, It is all up now with your master; the officers will soon find out what has been going on among you.
The three men found everything in confusion at the villa when they arrived.
The porter at once expressed conviction that the robbery had been committed by persons belonging to the house, because all the doors had been closely fastened, and not a dog had barked; showing that the thieves must have been familiar with the house, and well known to the dogs.
The officers were already on the spot. Sonnenkamp's work-room had been entered, and treasures stolen whose value could not be estimated, among them a dagger with a jewelled handle. The thieves had even tried to force the fire-proof safe, but in vain. Great goblets of gold and silver which stood upon the sideboard in the dressing-room had disappeared, as well as Roland's gold watch, which, when he went to Wolfsgarten, he had left on the table beside his bed. His pillow had also been taken, but was afterwards found on the wall, where it had served to make a smooth and easy passage over the broken glass which had been intended to make the wall insurmountable.
Two footprints were discovered in the park and behind the hot-house. The thieves must have stumbled among the heaps of garden mould, for on one of these was plainly visible the impression of a human body; one of the thieves had evidently fallen there. Here was also found a pair of the dwarfs old boots, which, on being compared with the footprints in the garden, were found exactly to correspond. Thus a clue was gained, though a very uncertain one. The dwarf just then came by, on his way to his accustomed work, and listened in astonishment to an account of what had happened. He was allowed to work on undisturbed.
The officer who had charge of the investigation, and his assistants, the burgomaster of the village, and some of the chief men, were assembled in the balcony-room, examining the various servants. Roland stood apart, his eyes fixed upon the pillow which had been stolen and made use of by the thieves in climbing the wall. He grew very pale, as he stood there listening to the questions that were asked of one man after another, in the hope of extorting something from each.
The dwarf appeared, and said that a pair of boots had been stolen from him.
"Yes," replied the officer at once, "the theft was committed in your boots."
The dwarfs face wore a simple expression, as if he had not understood what was meant.
The officer ordered his instant arrest. He complained piteously that the innocent were always the ones to be suspected, and Roland begged that the poor creature might be allowed to go free.
"I will throttle any one who touches me," cried the dwarf, his excitement seeming to make a different being of him.
At a sign from the officer, two men quietly bound the poor creature's hands behind his back.
Eric led Roland away. Why should he see this night-side of human nature?
Happily the Major appeared at this moment, and Eric delivered Roland to him.
"Here is a lesson for you, young man," said the Major. "Everything can be stolen from you, except your heart, when in the right place, and except what you have in your head; they can never be stolen from you. Mark that."
The officer had the servants brought before him, and questioned them as to the persons who had lately visited the villa. They mentioned the names of many, but the porter said,—
"The Herr Captain took the huntsman by himself over the whole house, and when he left he said to me, 'You guard the rich man's money and treasures, when it would be better to throw the doors wide open, and to scatter it abroad in the world.'"
Eric could not deny that the huntsman had observed everything very closely, and had talked in a confused way about the distinction of rich and poor; yet he thought he could answer for the man's honesty.
The officer made no answer, but despatched two of his men to search the house of Claus.
The huntsman smiled and shrugged his shoulders, when he saw what their intention was. Nothing was found, but in a kennel was chained a dog that barked incessantly.
"Unfasten the dog's chain," said one of the men to Claus, who had followed them through all the rooms and into the court, saying nothing, but keeping his lips moving all the time.
"What for?"
"Because I bid you; if you don't do it at once, I shall shoot the dog through the head."
Upon the dog being set free, the kennel was searched, and in it, under the straw, were found Roland's watch and the jewel-hilted dagger. Claus was immediately bound and put under arrest, in spite of his earnest protestations of innocence. On the way from his house to the villa he kept raising his chains, as if to show them appealingly to the fields, the vineyards, and the heavens.
A list was made out of the stolen articles as far as they could be described, and Roland was summoned to sign his name for the first time to an official document.
"There is no calculating the effect such a thing must produce on the boy," said Eric to the Major, who was standing by.
"It will do him no harm," replied the Major; "his heart is sound, and Fräulein Milch says, 'A young heart and a young stomach are quick digesters.'"
Fräulein Milch was mistaken this time, for at sight of Clans brought in in chains, Roland uttered a cry of distress.
A new scent was presently started. The groom, who had been in Pranken's pay as a spy, and afterwards dismissed by Sonnenkamp, had, within the last few days, been seen and recognized in the neighborhood, though he had taken great pains to disguise himself. Telegrams were immediately despatched in all directions for the arrest of the supposed thief, and also to Sonnenkamp.
The priest came, lamented what had happened, using a noble charity in speaking of the disaster, and begged Eric not to lay it too much to heart, because, devoted as he had been to learning and science, he could naturally have no proper knowledge of the wickedness of his fellow-men, and had naturally allowed himself to be taken unawares by it.
Eric was more humbled in spirit than the priest thought reasonable. He remembered having once said, that the man who consecrates himself to an idea must renounce all else; and now he was humiliated by standing in the presence of one who, in his way, acted up to this sentiment, while he himself had allowed the excitement of mental dissipation to drag him down from his high standard.
The priest repeated, that is all our plans we should take into account the wickedness of mankind; and Eric, who hardly knew what answer to make, assured him that he was well aware of the necessity, having voluntarily passed some time in a House of Correction, for the sake of restoring guilty men to their better selves. Neither Eric nor the priest, who praised him, noticed the effect which this confession produced upon Roland. He was, then, in the hands of a man who had tried to counsel criminals, who had lived in a House of Correction! A fear and repugnance took possession of the boy's soul. Eric's motive was forgotten; Roland seemed to himself humiliated. He sat a long time silently buried in thought, his face covered with his hands.
The priest approached him at last, and admonished him not to let this accident dishearten him, but only let it teach him not to place his trust in the treasures of this world, particularly in his own possessions; neither to have that so-called faith in humanity, which is a deceitful faith, exposed to daily shocks; for there was but one sure and abiding faith, that in God, the supreme being, eternal and unchanging, who never deceives.
Roland remained silent and absorbed for some time after he and Eric were left alone; finally he asked:—
"Does my father know what you once were?"
"Yes."
"Why did you not tell me?"
"Why? I had no reason for concealing it from you, or for telling you."
The boy again covered his face with his hands, and Eric, feeling that the course he was here called upon to defend was one undertaken from the purest motives, while within him he was conscious of a guilt which none but himself could upbraid him with, explained to Roland how he had felt it his duty to devote himself to the most unhappy. He spoke so touchingly that the boy suddenly raised his head, and, holding out his hand to him, exclaimed in a tone of the deepest feeling:—
"Forgive me! Ah, you are better than all."
The words smote Eric to the soul.
The officers of the law had left the villa, and even Pranken had ridden away. Roland went about the house, looking fearfully behind him, as if he had seen a ghost, an evil spirit. The stairs had been trodden by wicked men, the doors had been tried by their instruments; the house and all its treasures had been desecrated; he had lost pleasure not only in the things which had been plundered, but still more in those which could not be taken, which the thieves had been obliged to leave.
He begged Eric not to leave him for a moment, so great was his fear. At night he was unwilling to go to bed; rest seemed impossible to him in a place where the hands of robbers had taken the pillows from his bed. Eric yielded to his entreaties that he would remain by him, and said, after Roland had finally gone to bed,—
"I owe you an answer to your question,—What would Franklin have said to this robbery? I think I know. He would have had no compassion on the thieves; he would have given them up to the full penalty of the law; but at the same time he would have maintained, that the wickedness of individuals should not be allowed to rob us of our faith in humanity; for if thieves could inflict that loss upon us, they would be robbing us of more than hands can touch."
Roland nodded assent. Long after he had fallen asleep, Eric stood by the bedside, thoughtfully watching the boy, who had had to learn this lesson thus early,—Of what use is all this subtle study; of what advantage any conscious training? An invisible, irresistible power, the great current of life's experience, educates a man far more than a single human teacher can do, and in a different way.
Long did Eric stand at the window, gazing out upon the river and the vine-covered hills. We all work according to the strength that is in us; the result of our labors lies not in our hands, but in the control of that invisible, all-embracing power whose origin we know not, and which we can only call God.
Eric was deeply moved. This event could not afflict his young charge so deeply as it did him, for he was conscious of a power mightier than any effort of his own thoughts, drawing him back from the edge of an abyss. He looked into the future, and a fixed resolve was formed within him.
He was summoned away by a messenger from the officer who had conducted the examination, bringing a telegram from Sonnenkamp. It ran thus:—
"Journey to sea-shore given up; coming home; shall find thieves, under whatever title."