CHAPTER I.
On a pleasant afternoon, a few days later, Jansen, Julie, and Angelica started from the city for the Starnberg villa.
The drive was silent and sad, for Jansen had been deeply moved by what had happened, and Julie's heart was full of sympathy for his anxiety. To the disappointment of all, when they reached Rossel's house, that worthy met them with a grave face and reported that the doctor had ordered absolute quiet, and had forbidden all exciting visits. He led the ladies into the little salon and had some refreshments brought by Zenz, who opened her eyes wide at Julie in unconcealed admiration. But they were none of them in a mood to taste anything. They waited with beating hearts to hear what news Jansen would bring back, for nothing could dissuade him from going up to the sick man's room.
Felix lay as before in a half-sleeping state, so that Schnetz, whose watch it happened to be, thought it would do no harm to admit his friend. But they merely greeted one another with a silent nod. Then the sculptor stepped up to the sick-bed of his Icarus, and, turning his head away from the others, stood there motionless for full ten minutes. Schnetz, who had seated himself again on the stool before the easel and was cutting out a silhouette, noticed that a trembling, like that of suppressed sobs, shook Jansen's massive frame. He was surprised at this, for he did not know in what intimate relations the two had stood to one another.
"There is no danger," he said, in a low voice; "a few weeks and he will be able to mount his horse again. How he will get on with his modeling is not so certain. That cut over the right hand was very heavy. But I imagine that will be your least sorrow."
The sculptor did not answer.
But the wounded man seemed to have caught a word or two of what Schnetz had whispered. He slowly opened his heavy, feverish eyes, and, with a dreamy smile that gave a sweet, arch look to his pale face, he muttered:
"Sorrow!--why should any one be sorry? The world is so beautiful--even pain does one good. No, no, we will laugh--laugh--and drink to the health--"
He made a movement, and the piercing pain it caused him roused him thoroughly. He recognized the silent figure at his bedside.
"Hans, my old Dædalus!" he cried, making a motion of his hand toward his friend, "is it you? Good!--this is capital! This gives me more pleasure--than I can tell you! Have you left your Paradise to come out here? Oh, if you knew--you see I must not talk much--I could not, even if I would--else--Heavens! what things--I should have to tell you! And you me, wouldn't you, old boy? Between ourselves, it wasn't just as it should have been--we knew almost nothing at all about one another--you had your head full, and I too. But now, as soon as I am able to talk again--you know that no human being is what you are to me--except one--except one--and even she--"
Schnetz rose with considerable noise, stepped up to the bed, and said: "Fresh ice is of more account just now than warm old friendship. So stop a bit!"
He made a sign to Jansen to go out without waiting to take leave, and then busied himself about his nurse's duties, while Felix's looks and words soon grew confused again.
It was some time before Jansen returned to the ladies, who had been carrying on a rather monosyllabic conversation with the master of the house. Julie saw at once from her lover's face how much this meeting with his sick friend had moved him. She offered to remain out here with Angelica, in the house, or at least in the neighborhood, so as to lighten the duties of the men as much as possible. "Let us stay, my dear Herr Rossel," she entreated; "we shall have no difficulty in finding a room somewhere in the neighborhood. Angelica will make flower studies, and I will rip cloth for bandages, and pick lint. A woman without talents, like myself, is invaluable at such a time."
Rossel declined all these proposals, nor would he hear of such a thing as Jansen's staying to assist them. They three sufficed to do anything that men could do. And the female department was also in the best of hands. Then he began to expatiate with much warmth upon the tireless energy and willingness of Red Zenz, who had not returned to the salon, saying he thought he owed it to the good child not to hurt her feelings by accepting any other help than hers and that of his old house-keeper. In spite of their wish the friends had to yield; but they made him promise, at parting, that he would send for them at once in case the duties became more onerous, or he should find they had not force enough.
In addition to this, Kohle promised to send them news daily.
One other subject came up for discussion during this visit. Even in the first excitement, Schnetz had urged that they should report the affair, and have Hiesl, the murderous boatman, handed over to the courts. The latter had the audacity to go about in Starnberg, and to work at his calling, as if nothing had happened; indeed, he was reported to have boasted of the whole affair, and to have said: "I hope I have spoiled the honorable gentleman's sport for a few weeks, at least." This cold-blooded, triumphant defiance enraged the lieutenant, and he would have liked to give the fellow a good lesson. Rossel, however, opposed this--chiefly in order to spare Zenz, who would undoubtedly be summoned as a witness, and have to go before a jury. Jansen sided with him, because he was convinced that it would go against his friend's nature to see any man--however loath he might be to regard him as a worthy antagonist--with whom he had fought man to man, accused as a criminal, and made to suffer punishment through any act of his. As Kohle, likewise, inclined to this view of the case, it was decided not only to do nothing about the matter for the present, but also to avoid, if possible, any independent interference on the part of justice.
The friends soon after took their leave, all deeply impressed by the gravity of the patient's case and by their visit.