Sonnenkamp was alone in his room, and he was continually trying to imagine what sort of an address would be made to him, and he repeated half aloud to himself his reply.
Approaching footsteps were now heard, and the Major and the Justice made their appearance. The Major said that they would bear him company for a while, and the Justice added that it must certainly touch him very deeply, for he would be obliged to be an actual witness of the gratitude which the hearts of so many people, struggling for the means of living, felt towards him. Sonnenkamp expressed his thanks, and smoked away quietly, holding his cigar very tenderly, as if he felt bashful even in its presence.
He begged his friends to excuse him for not being able to entertain them; that he had lived so many years abroad, and now it almost overwhelmed him to have found a home in so many staunch hearts; and he did not deserve it, for he had given nothing but a little wretched money. The Justice wanted to make a reply, but the Major nodded to him to omit it. In such moments, he whispered to him, a man must be expected to make some extravagant speeches, and it is sufficient to listen quietly to what he says; and besides, he saw that Sonnenkamp was conning over the speech which he was soon to get off.
Several heavy footsteps were now heard, and Pranken said, opening the door,—
"This way, my men."
A deputation of boatmen entered, headed by Sevenpiper, and he begged Sonnenkamp to be so kind as to allow them to present to him a tribute of their grateful respect. With eyes cast down, and as if weighed down by the burden of honor heaped upon him, amidst the boatmen dressed in their light-colored clothes, Sonnenkamp went down the steps into the park.
Here a beautiful scene presented itself to his view. The boatmen were standing in the boats illuminated by differently colored lights, and singing in chorus a song which sounded on the distant air. Sonnenkamp stood there with folded hands, looking straight before him; and then he separated his hands, and rubbed the ring on the thumb of his right hand, which pained him. The song ended, and a cheer was called for in honor of the great benefactor. The cannons roared, and the reports were echoed and re-echoed from the mountains, so that it was proclaimed through the land as with a voice of thunder up the river and down.
Sonnenkamp returned his thanks in a brief but hearty speech; Roland stood at his right hand and Manna at his left. He placed his right hand upon the shoulder of his son, by this means hiding the thumb, and with the other hand he took Manna's; he concluded with the request that the good neighbors would be pleased to extend their kindness also to his children.
A lad, who was standing at the helm, wearing the clothes which Roland had sent him on his birthday, now called for a cheer for Roland; again the cannons fired. Roland said to the Major: I cannot make a speech. He went down, and got on board the boat and shook hands with the men; and he now perceived, for the first time, that Eric was on the boat. He sat behind the others and had assisted them in singing; the school-teacher, Fassbender, was sitting with him.
They all now came on shore. The boatmen, with a band of music, marched through the park to the tables that had been spread for their entertainment. Sonnenkamp immediately gave orders, and in a sharp tone, that the chairs should be removed.