Petrowitsch here made a pause, and then continued:—"The whole affair made a considerable impression on my mind; I did not know how deep till long after.
"Striegler subsequently returned to Spain, and, I heard, married one of Caballero's daughters. When we were in France I met your father, Herr Doctor, who soon saw that I was far from being the good for nothing fellow I had been called. He furnished me with means to enable me to trade on my own behalf. I had learned to save and to starve for the benefit of others; now I did so to some purpose for my own benefit. I repaid your father his money punctually, and he entrusted me with more goods. I have been half round the world. I can speak five languages, but whenever I heard a word of German, especially the Black Forest dialect, it made my heart beat with joy. I had one great fault, I never could overcome the love of home. It glided after me, and by my side, as if it had been a spirit; and at many a jovial drinking-match in foreign lands the wine tasted to me as if some one had spilt salt in it."
Petrowitsch again paused, and poked the fire till it crackled and blazed up brightly; and, passing his hand over his wrinkled face, he began again thus:—"I pass over ten years. By that time my fortune was made, and I was living in Odessa. That is a splendid city; all nations seem at home in it, and I have a friend still there whom I can never forget. There are also villages in the vicinity, Lustdorf, and Kleinliebenthal, and various others, where numbers of Germans live, not from our country, but chiefly from Wurtemberg. I received proposals from home on every side, but I remained with your father to the day of his death. I had then realized a very pretty sum, and might have driven in my carriage, but I preferred going on foot through all Russia. I never knew what fatigue meant. Look at my arm even now! every muscle is like steel; but thirty years ago!—it was very different then.
"I established myself in Moscow, where I stayed four years. I ought not to say established myself, for I was never fairly settled or at rest in one place, I never, even for an hour, made myself at home anywhere, and that helped me to save and to make money. I met plenty of my countrymen, and I helped many. More than one, who has since prospered in the world, owes his fortune to me. I asked them what was going on at home. My father was dead, my mother dead also, and my brother married. I asked if any of them had ever enquired for me; the people, however, could not give me much information on that point. My brother said I would be sure to come home a beggar. And do you know what hurt my feelings most of all?—to hear all my countrymen still call me the Goatherd. My brother was to blame, for my being obliged to bear this degrading nickname all my life. I had all sorts of ideas in my head, and thought of sending him a couple of thousand gulden, and writing along with the money—'The Goatherd sends you this for the hundred boxes on the ear, for which he is still in your debt; and for all the kindness you have shown him, and all the care you have taken of him.' I often resolved to do this, but somehow I never did. I could no longer remain in Moscow. I wished to go home; but instead of going home I went to Tiflis, and stayed there eleven years; and as I began to grow older, I thought—'You must now act quite differently: you must go home, and take a whole sackful of gold with you; and all the people in the place shall see it except your brother, and you will not say one word to him.' And all this brooding over the matter, led me at last to be firmly convinced that he had persecuted and neglected me, and that he would have been glad if I had died. I was determined that he should be punished for this. I almost hated him, and often thought many evil things about him; and yet I could not get rid of his image, nor prevent myself from dwelling on it. Besides, I had always a longing for home, greater than I can describe. No water in the world was so good as that of the well near the church at home; and on summer evenings, how sweet the air was—quite like balsam! I would have given a thousand gulden to any one who could have brought me a roomful of air from home. These were ideas that passed through my brain thousands of times. And then I rejoiced in the thought how all the men in the upper and lower villages would flock together and say—'That is Peter,' or Petrowitsch, as they used to call me; and they should all be feasted for three days, and eat and drink as much as they liked. And in the large meadow before our house I would place long tables, and all should come who chose to come; all—all might have a place there except my brother. And yet, in the midst of this rancour, I felt that he was the only man in the world I really loved; but I was unwilling to own this to myself. Every successive year I said—'At the very next settlement I will go.' But I could never tear myself away; for in such a business as mine, where all you touch turns to gold, you have not the heart to leave it. I became old and grey by degrees—I scarcely know how. Then I was seized with illness—very severe illness. I remember nothing of what occurred during several weeks; but when I was recovering they told me that when I was delirious, I spoke in a language that no one could understand, except the doctor, who knew a word or two here and there, and said it was German, but he scarcely comprehended me. I had often called out 'Cain!' and said, 'What is the price of the lad?' Then I thought of old Caballero, whom I had seen in Valencia on his deathbed. Suppose you were one day to lie and thirst for water, as he did, and no man to know a word you were saying! Now my resolution was finally taken. Home, home, home! I soon got well, for I have a good constitution: I had settled my plans, and no obstacle should prevent my going home. If my brother creeps to me humbly, and says, 'I have not behaved well to you,' then I will stay with him till I die. How long may that be? What is all the world to us, when we have not those near and dear to us? On the journey—for at last I had actually started—I was just like a child who runs gaily home after escaping into the wood. I was often obliged to remember how old I was, and the hatred of my brother began to plague me again, and such a feeling is like an ever open wound.
"I got home at last.
"When I entered the valley, I felt as if the hills rose to come to meet me.
"I drove through several villages—so and so lived there. I no longer knew the names of the places, but when I had passed them I remembered the names. I came into our own village. It was a fine summer evening—the people had been haymaking, and the bells were ringing: it was as if I all of a sudden heard voices once more, that I no longer believed to be in the world. I had heard many bells during the forty-two years I had been in other lands, but no tones so sweet as these. I took off my hat involuntarily; but when the air of my own home blew round my head, it revived and refreshed me—there seemed a welcome home in it. I can't tell you how I felt: I thought my grey hairs must become young again. I recognised very few of the people I met on the road; but I knew you, Doctor, at once, for you were so like your father. Not a soul recognised me. I stopped at the 'Lion,' and asked—'Is Lorenz of the Morgenhalde at home?' 'At home! What do you mean? He has been dead for seven years.'"
"It was as if a flash of lightning had struck me to the earth. I repressed my feelings, however; indeed no one ever did know at any time what was really passing within me.
"I went to my room, and, late at night, out into the village, where a hundred things renewed my home feelings. I went to my parents' house—all was still there. I half resolved to leave the place again before day dawned. What could I do here? and no one had known me. But I did not go for all that.
"Soon people came from all quarters, holding out their hands in the hope that I would enrich them. But here, Doctor, one day, when I had nothing better to do, I fed the sparrows on my window sill; and after that, the importunate beggars came, as if possessed of an evil spirit, every morning to the same spot; and the noise they made drove me nearly distracted, but I could no longer succeed in driving them away. It is easy to encourage others, but not so easy to get rid of them. I gave up asking after any one, for whenever I inquired I heard of nothing but misfortunes and death. Those whom I met, I was happy to see—those whom I did not meet, I made no mention of. All came crowding to see me, except my sister-in-law and her young prince. My sister-in-law said: 'My brother-in-law knows where his parents' house stands—we shall not run after him.' The first time I saw young Lenz I was not at all taken with him, for he had no look of our family, but was the image of his mother. Now when I looked round the village, and the whole country, I could have torn out my grey hairs at ever having come home. Everything seemed stunted, and dwarfed, and gone to ruin. And where are the old jolly times—the old spirit and fan? All gone! The young people were a worthless set. Was I not obliged to pull the unripe cherries from the trees in my avenue that their young stems might not be destroyed? My singing nephew was always sitting at home, while I had seen the world. Nothing hurt me; but every rough breeze or rough word hurt him, and made him ill. Once only I had a better opinion of him, and thought—He will yet brighten your life.' If he had married your daughter Amanda, I would either have gone to live with the young people, or they might have lived with me. My property would have come into your family; and that I should have liked, for to your father I owe the foundation of my prosperity—if it be prosperity. That confounded Pilgrim guessed my thoughts, and wished to make me the medium to propose this scheme; but I refused at once. I never will do anything for any one—never! I persuade no one to any course of action, nor can any one persuade me. Each one must live for himself; and this is the principal point I wish to impress upon you—that I never will give away one single kreuzer. I would rather throw my money into the sea. Now I have talked long enough. I am quite tired and overheated."