“Bon soir!” cried the stranger, as he entered, in a sharp voice, while he hastened towards Sebastian, and held out his hand; “bon soir, mon cher papa! Do you not know me?”
Sebastian could not immediately recollect the face. Friedemann recognized him at once, and said—
“Ah! Monsieur Scherbitz! good evening.”
“Ha! ha!” cried Scherbitz, laughing, “is not this our ex-court-organist? Exactly! there is the same ill-boding frown between the brows as in 1737. You are but little changed, my friend, with being thirteen years older. I am still the same, except that at fifty-three I am grown to be First Lieutenant.”
“You proved yourself a friend to my son in time of misfortune,” said Sebastian, “and are therefore ever welcome to me and mine. To what lucky chance am I indebted for the pleasure of welcoming you in my quiet home?”
“To the most unlucky, my good sir! I was so careless, at the Prime Minister’s last court, as to tread on the left fore-paw of his lady-consort’s lap-dog. The beast cried out; the Countess demanded satisfaction; and in punishment for my misdeed I am marched as first lieutenant to Poland, in the body-guard of his Excellency.”
Friedemann laughed. Sebastian, who felt a horror creep over him at his sarcastic, misanthropic wit, sought to change the conversation, but in vain; Scherbitz went on jesting in his bitter way about his tragical destiny. He concluded his account with the information—that he had come over to Leipzig simply and solely to see Papa Bach once more in his life, for, on the word of a first lieutenant, he had ever loved and honored him since the first time he beheld him, thirteen years ago.
The next morning, von Scherbitz was walking in the little garden behind Thomas school, which afforded but a narrow view, being bounded by the high wall on one side, when he saw at the other end Caroline, occupied in fastening the branches of a vine to an espalier. He approached and saluted the young lady; she turned and replied with the same cordiality.
“You are very early at work, Mademoiselle Bach,” said Scherbitz, after a pause, during which she was arranging her vines.
“My father takes great pleasure in cultivating vines,” answered Caroline.