My solitude was soon broken in upon by a visit from Baron Arven. I was astonished to find him looking so sad. "Is there still so much of the old Austrian officer left in him?" I asked myself. He soon relieved me of all doubts on that head, and, in a tone which showed how he had struggled with and conquered his grief, told me that in many things, and especially in religious matters, he and his wife had not agreed. He had, at last, conquered himself, and had determined to let her have her own way; but now--he said it with apparent reluctance--the long-impending rupture had occurred, under circumstances almost too terrible to bear. Although he knew that, as a Czech and a Catholic, his wife hated Prussia, he could hardly believe his ears when she said, "All saints be praised! The French are coming! Our deliverance is at hand!" Her words had provoked him into unpardonable vehemence of language.
He hardly dared say it, but she had actually made a French flag, with the intention of displaying it as soon as the enemy should arrive,--an event of which she had felt perfectly assured. He never thought that his wife had political opinions of any kind, because mere abuse of Prussia does not argue the presence of political convictions. He had carefully avoided affronting her feelings as a Czech; for he well knew how the Czechs resent the fact of their being dependent on German culture. But he could never have believed that her hatred of Germany could have carried her so far as to allow her to connive at the correspondence with France, which was carried on under cover of her address, and with complete ignorance, on her part, of its origin.
The village clergyman had been to see her, and must have given her strange information, for she now insisted on leaving for Switzerland at once.
"God be praised!" said I, "let her go." I told him that her intended departure was already the topic of common talk.
The Baron, however, feared that her course might be fraught with evil consequences to the whole neighborhood, as he thought that her fleeing to Switzerland might awaken a panic.
To me, it seemed as if he were trying to justify his course in allowing her to leave. I assured him that no one doubted his patriotism, and he begged me not to divulge what he had told me.
I succeeded in reassuring him, and he seemed to recover from his depression. He felt that I fully sympathized with him. And can anything be sadder than to find that one's love of country is opposed and ridiculed in his own home? The antagonism which had so long been veiled under courteous forms, now broke forth with redoubled venom and fury.
"Your hearty sympathy does me good," said the Baron; "and I feel like a changed being since I have unbosomed myself to you--just as if I had withdrawn my hand from a bleeding wound, which can now flow freely."
I understood him. Grief which has been long repressed, and at last finds vent in words, renews itself while the sufferer speaks of it.
When I mentioned this to him, he took my hand and held it in his for a long while.