"Those two cousins of hers," he began, in a little while, "her aunt Catherine—no, that is not the name—her aunt Christiane's sons: has she not a sentiment for one of them?"
"For both of them, for all I know," answered Max; "but if you could see them, I hardly believe you would suspect it. I think the Durocs have monopolized the beauty of the family. And, besides, one of these cousins is some few months younger than herself, and therefore in her womanly eyes a mere child; the other is already married. Any more catechism to-night, Wolfgang?"
"Yes; who is Goetz?" asked Goethe, with great eagerness.
Max burst into a laugh. "Oh, I forgot Goetz," he cried. "There I acknowledge you have a rival, and a formidable one, too. Why, I have seen your modest, demure Fräulein Alide fling her arms about his neck and caress his black, curly head as though he were a good-looking fellow like one of us. And yet he has beauties of his own, too,—to say nothing of his moral qualities,—a world of courage, a keen scent——" A light broke upon Goethe's face, and he could not repress a smile himself. "Yes," said Waldstein, "you are a rather presumptuous lad,—you have not been in the family a dozen hours, and you are jealous of the house-dog! But come, this may be very interesting for you, but I am tired and quite ready for sleep. I advise you to break off that walk of yours, and exercise your limbs in the morning. It is past midnight; and who knows but that I have my dreams to be dreamed out as well as you?"
A few moments later, honest Max was asleep as his head touched the pillow; but Goethe tossed feverishly about, and it was not till a short time before dawn that he succeeded in calming sufficiently his turbulent imagination to snatch a troubled slumber.
CHAPTER V
GOETHE
With the earliest beams of morning Goethe awoke. "Alide" was his first thought, and he sprang from his bed and began hastily to dress himself, that he might go into the open air and see her in the broad, dewy light of the young day. But now he was indeed horrified at the absurd wardrobe which he had so wantonly selected: the farther he advanced in his toilet, the meaner it seemed in his eyes, for everything had been calculated for just this effect. His hair could easily be managed; but when he forced himself into the shabby gray coat, and saw himself reflected in the little mirror piece by piece, first the short, threadbare sleeves, then the ill-fitting jacket, and then the ridiculous breeches, he fell into despair. He looked at Waldstein's fine clothes as they hung over the chair, and gladly would he have carried them off and left his accursed husk behind, for Max was sufficiently good-humored to have put himself readily into his friend's costume, and so the tale would have found a merry ending early in the morning. But Waldstein was so much shorter and stouter than himself that this attire would give him as ridiculous an appearance as his own. While he was standing with a perplexed, dejected countenance, summoning all his powers of invention, he heard a low, smothered laugh issuing from under the silken bed-quilt. He turned quickly and saw Max peering mischievously out upon him. "No, it is true," exclaimed Max, "you do look most cursedly!"
"And I know what I will do!" cried Goethe, impetuously. "Good-by, and make my excuses."
Waldstein sprang from the bed and tried to detain him. "Are you mad?" he called out. But it was too late, for his friend was already out of the door, down the stairs, out of the house and yard, and off to the tavern.
Now that he felt himself in safety, the cheerful sunlight and the cool breath of morning somewhat restored his quiet. He walked rapidly across the meadows to the Drusenheim inn, mounted his horse, which he had left there the evening before, and rode leisurely towards Strasburg, with the intention, of changing his toilet, taking a fresh horse, and returning to the parsonage in time for dinner, or at the latest for dessert, and making his apologies and explanations. As he recalled the evening which he had spent with the Durocs, the pleasant incidents that had occurred, and the delicious emotions he had experienced, his vexation at his own folly, and his impatience to see again the beloved face of Alide, grew wellnigh intolerable. He was just about to clap spurs into his steed and gallop into the city, when a sudden thought flashed upon him, and, turning the animal about, he rode back towards Drusenheim. He entered the court-yard of the tavern, and inquired for the landlord's son, whom he had remarked as a likely lad yesterday afternoon. Master Fritz, a well-made, good-looking youth, of somewhat the same figure and height as Goethe, soon made his appearance. In a few words Wolfgang proposed that the young man should exchange clothes with him, as he had something merry on foot at the parsonage.