"Beg pardon, Herr Candidate, I must request you to follow me."
Old Hildebrandt bowed as he spoke these words, and proceeded to conduct Herr Gottlieb Pigglewitch to his apartments. In a corner of the hall lay the ancient travelling-bag. Pigglewitch would have picked it up to carry it to his room himself, but this Hildebrandt would by no means allow. "I will call a servant," he said, taking the bag from the young man's hand, and in answer to his twice-repeated call of "Johann!" a footman appeared, who was taken to task for his dilatoriness and ordered instantly to carry the Herr Candidate's portmanteau to his room.
Johann scanned the figure of the stranger contemptuously, mentally comparing the threadbare coat of the latter with his own well-kept livery. It was really quite derogatory to his dignity to carry such a fellow's luggage up the stairs. "It's not my place to fetch and carry for him!" he was mentally ejaculating, when he suddenly encountered the glance of the stranger's eye, and what he saw there was in such contrast to his shabby exterior that he meekly took the bag and obeyed Hildebrandt's directions.
The old servant led the way up the broad staircase and along a wide corridor, at the end of which he threw open a door with "This is your sitting-room, Herr Candidate."
Pigglewitch was most agreeably surprised by the appearance of the apartment into which he was ushered,--a large, comfortably-furnished room, lighted by two broad windows. The low, chintz-covered sofa, with its large pillows, the big arm-chairs, the piano in one corner, the well-filled book-shelves, the study-table, all gave the place a refined air of comfort which gratified the young man's taste. He was especially pleased to find a piano here,--his dormant love of music had suddenly revived. Formerly his piano had been his best friend, he greeted it once more with joy.
He went to the window, which looked out upon a charming old-fashioned garden filled with bloom, and an extent of close-shaven lawn.
The old servant allowed the young man time to observe the prospect, and then remarked, "This door leads into your bedroom, Herr Candidate, where you will find your wardrobe and conveniences for washing, and where Johann has left your bag. The family dines at three o'clock punctually, and Herr von Osternau likes to have every one in the dining-hall as the clock begins to strike. It would be well if you would set your watch by the castle clock so as to be dressed by five minutes of three, when I shall with your permission show you the way to the dining-room. Madame likes to have every one dress for dinner; the Herr Lieutenant always does so, and when the Herr Inspectors are too busy to do so they dine in the Inspector's room and do not appear at table."
"You wish me to dress, then?" Pigglewitch asked, with a smile.
"If you please, Herr Candidate; I do not mean to presume, but you will like to know the custom of the household. Should you require anything further, you will be good enough to pull your bell three times in succession; the Herr Lieutenant rings twice and Herr von Osternau and madame once only. Johann will obey your summons immediately."
He bowed and left the room, leaving its occupant gazing thoughtfully out of the window. He looked across the blooming flower-beds, the velvet lawn, the luxuriant shrubbery, his eyes sought the distant horizon while his thoughts took shape in a half-muttered soliloquy: "The first step in the new life is taken, and everything differs utterly from my anticipations. Where is the haughty aristocrat, the scornful lady, whom I hoped to inspire with horror by my appearance? What has become of the struggle with arrogant self-assertion to which I looked forward? Positively my ill luck, the tiresome good fortune which has been lavished upon me ever since I was a child, pursues me here also, my irresponsible folly has introduced me to a household where any man save myself would be perfectly happy. Was it worth while to don Pigglewitch's ridiculous attire to be pursued here too by my fate? And, besides, how can I answer it to my conscience to deceive these worthy, unsuspicious people? If they were what I imagined them, arrogant, brutal, looking down with contempt upon the man whose services they had hired, there would have been some amusement in bringing their pride low in a contention with them. Such a struggle would have been worth a couple more weeks of existence. But now? Well, why not? I have something very different here from the eternal monotony of a fashionable society life. This one may be as tiresome, but variety will make it endurable for a time. I am already refreshed and enlivened by the idea of attempting to conform myself to new conditions of existence. But have I a right to play with these kindly people, to deceive them, for the gratification of a whim of the moment? Pshaw! It can do no harm to assume the rôle of a Candidate Pigglewitch for a few days. I have acknowledged frankly that this is but a trial, that I mistrusted my own qualifications for the position; what more could be desired? And, besides, if my alter ego, the real Pigglewitch, had come to them, would they have been any better off? They ought to thank me for ridding them of him. The farce is begun; it must be carried out until--until it grows too tiresome, and then the sham Pigglewitch can go the same way that the real Pigglewitch was so near going but lately."