"I am," said the giant, throwing back the linen covering; "all is right, the fur and the boots too."
Anton looked in, and had some trouble to preserve his gravity. Sturm looked like a pre-Adamic bear of colossal dimensions. A great sword leaned against the seat. "Against those scythe-men!" said he, angrily shaking it. "I have still one other request to make you. Wilhelm has got the key of my house; will you take charge of this box? it holds what was formerly under my bed. Keep it for Karl."
"I will give it into Mr. Schröter's care," replied Anton; "he is just gone to the railway station, and may be back any moment."
"Greet him from me," said the giant; "greet him and Miss Sabine, and tell them both how heartily I thank them for all the friendliness they have shown to Karl and me." He looked in with emotion at the ground floor. "Many a happy year I have worked away there, and if the rings on the hundred weights are well polished, these hands have done their part to make them so. I have shared the fate of this house for thirty years, good and bad, and I can tell you, Mr Wohlfart, we were always wide awake. I shall roll your barrels no more," continued he, turning to the servants, "and some one else will help you to unload the wagons. Think often of old Sturm when you fasten up a sugar-cask. Nothing here below can last forever, not even the strongest; but this firm, Mr. Wohlfart, will stand and flourish so long as it has a chief like Mr. Schröter, and men like you, and good hands below there at the great scales. This is my heart's wish." He folded his hands, and tears rolled down his cheeks. "And now farewell, Mr. Wohlfart; give me your hand; and farewell Peter, Franz, Gottfried—all of you, think kindly of me. To Rosmin, driver." The cart rolled away over the pavement, the sheet opening once more, and Sturm's great head emerging for a last look and wave of the hand.
Anton was exceedingly anxious about him for a few days, when a letter came in Karl's own hand.
"Dear Mr. Wohlfart," wrote Karl, "you will of course have seen why I sent that last note to my Goliath. I had to get him out of that room, and to drive that notion about his birth-day out of his head; so, in my anxiety, I hazarded a white lie. This is how it all came about:
"The day before his birth-day, the servant was waiting for him at the Red Deer in Rosmin. I had ridden over there myself to see how my father got on, and how he looked; but I kept myself out of sight. About midday the cart came slowly rumbling up. The driver helped my father out—for he had great difficulty in moving—which at first gave me a fright about his legs; but it was really mainly owing to the fur boots and the jolting. On the street the old boy took out a letter and read it. Then he went up to Jasch, who had run to the cart, and who had to pretend that he did not understand a word of German, and began to make all manner of alarming gesticulations. He held his hand two feet above the pavement, and when the servant shook his head, the governor stooped down to the ground. This was meant to signify, 'My manikin!' but as Jasch failed to understand it, my father caught hold of one hand with the other, and shook it so violently under Jasch's nose, that the servant, who, without this, was frightened at the great creature, was near taking to his heels. At length my father and his effects were packed into a spring-cart, he having several times walked round, and shaken it rather mistrustfully. Then he drove off. I had told the servant to drive straight to the forester's, with whom I had planned every thing. As for me, I had gone there by a by-path; and as soon as the wagon arrived in the evening, I slipped into the forester's bed, and had my hand tied down under the clothes for fear I should stretch it out in my delight. When the old gentleman reached my bedside, he was so moved that he wept, and it went to my heart to be obliged to cheat him. I told him that I was better already, and that the doctor would allow me to get up on the morrow. This quieted him; and he said, with a most solemn mien, that he was glad of that, for that the morrow was a great day for him, and that he must then take to his bed. And so he went on with his nonsense. But not long. He soon got cheerful. The forester joined us, and we made a very good supper on what the young lady had sent us from the castle. I gave the old boy beer, which he pronounced execrable; whereupon the forester made some punch, and we all three drank heartily—I with my amputated hand, my father with his melancholy forebodings, and the forester. What with the long journey, the warm room, and the punch, my father soon got sleepy (I had had a strong bedstead placed in the forester's room); he kissed my head as he wished me good-night, tapped the quilt, and said, 'To-morrow, then, my manikin!' He was asleep in a moment; and how he slept, to be sure! I got out of the forester's bed, and watched every breath he drew. It was a weary night. The next morning he woke late. As soon as he began to stir, the forester came in, clapping his hands at the door, and exclaiming over and over again, 'Why, Mr. Sturm, what have you done?' 'What have I done?' asked my Goliath, still half asleep, and looking round in amazement. The birds were screaming very loud, and every thing looked so strange to him he hardly knew if he was still on earth or not. 'Where am I?' cried he; 'this place is not in the Bible.' However, the forester went on exclaiming, 'No; such a thing never was heard of before,' till the old man was quite alarmed, and anxiously asked what it was. 'What you have done, Mr. Sturm!' cried the forester; 'why, you have slept a night, and then a day, and then another night!' 'How so?' said my old boy; 'to-day is Wednesday, the 13th.' 'No such thing,' affirmed the forester; 'to-day is the 14th: it is Thursday.' So they went on disputing. At last the forester took out his pocket-book, on which he strikes out each day as it passes, and there was a great stroke over Wednesday; and on Tuesday he had put down as a memorandum, 'To-day, at seven o'clock, the bailiff's father arrived: a very tall man, can drink plenty of punch;' and on Wednesday, 'The bailiff's father has been asleep the whole day through.' Having read this, my governor got quite composed, and said, 'It's all correct: here we have it in black and white. Tuesday, I arrived at seven—a tall man—plenty of punch; all this tallies. Wednesday is past. This is Thursday—this is the 14th.' After some musing, he cried, 'Where is my son Karl?' Then I entered, my arm bound up, and told the same tale as the forester, till he said, 'I am like one bewitched; I don't know what to think.' 'Why, don't you see,' said I, 'that I am out of bed? Yesterday, when you were asleep, the doctor came, and gave me leave to get up. Now I am so well that I can lift this chair with my stiff arm.' 'No more weights,' said the old man. Then I went on: 'I spoke of your case, too, to the doctor. He is a skillful man, and told us one of two things would happen: either you would go off, or sleep through it. If he sleeps throughout the day,' said he, 'he will get over it. It's a serious crisis. Such things will happen sometimes'—'To us porters,' chimed in the old man. And so it was that we got him out of his bed; and he was very cheerful. But I was anxious all day long, and never left him. At noon all was nearly lost when the farmer came in to speak to me. Luckily, though, the forester had locked the yard door, and so he went out and gave the farmer a hint. As soon as the latter came in, my father called out, 'What day is it, comrade?' 'Thursday,' said the farmer, 'the 14th;' at which my father's whole face broke out into a laugh, and he cried, 'Now it's certain; now I believe it.' However, he slept at the forester's that night too, that we might get the birth-day well over.
"The next day I took my father to the farm-yard, to the room next mine. I had had it hastily furnished for him. Herr von Fink, who knew all about it, sent some good stout things from the castle; I had his old Blucher hung up, let in some robin-redbreasts, and put in a joiner's bench and a few tools, that he might feel comfortable. So I said, 'This is your room, father; you must stay with me now.' 'No,' said he; 'that will never do, my manikin.' 'There is no help for it,' I replied; 'Herr von Fink will have it so, Mr. Wohlfart will have it so, Mr. Schröter will have it so; you must give way. We won't part again as long as we are on earth.' And then drew my hand out of its bandages, and gave him such a fine lecture about his unhealthy way of life, and his fancies, that he got quite soft, and said all manner of kind things to me. Next came Herr von Fink, and welcomed him in his own merry way; and in the afternoon our young lady brought the baron in. The poor blind gentleman was quite delighted with my father; he liked his voice much, felt him all over, and as he went away, called him a man after his own heart; and so he must be, for the baron has come every afternoon since to my father's little room, and listened to his sawing and hammering.
"My father is still a good deal perplexed at all he sees here, and he is not quite clear about that day he is said to have slept, though he must be up to it too, for ever since he often catches me by the head, and calls me a rascal. This word now replaces 'dwarf' and 'manikin' in his talk, although it is a still worse appellation for a bailiff. He is going to be a wheelwright, and has been cutting out spokes all day. I am only afraid he will work too hard. I rejoice to have him here, and if he once gets over the winter, he will soon walk off the weakness in his feet. He means to sell the little house, but only to a porter. He begs that you will offer it to Wilhelm, who now rents one, and say that he shall have it cheaper than a stranger."