The Lost Manuscript: A Novel

by Gustav Freytag

"It was not wrong."

With this she was for the present obliged to be content.

During the supper the Rector proposed the first toast--"Our Academical Society"--and the assembled gentlemen thought his slight allusion to friendly concord among the colleagues touched in an indelicate way on the burning question of the day. But this effect passed away immediately in other toasts, and Ilse remarked that the supper speeches here were carried on very differently to those in the Rollmaus family. One colleague after another clinked the glass; and how elegantly and intellectually they knew how to portray things with their hands behind their backs and looking coolly around, and alluding, in fine sentences, to the guests, the ladies and the rest of mankind. When the corks of the champagne popped, the eloquence became overpowering, and two professors even clinked their glasses at the same time. Then the Professor of History arose; all became still. He greeted the new members of the University--women as well as men--and Ilse saw that this applied to herself and looked down on her plate. But she grew alarmed when she found that he became more personal, and at last her own name as well as that of the wife of the Mineralogist, who was sitting by Felix, sounded through the room. The glasses resounded, a flourish of trumpets was blown, many colleagues and some of the ladies arose and proceeded with their glasses toward them. A little procession took place behind the chairs, and Ilse and the Mineralogist's wife had to clink their glasses incessantly, to bow and return thanks. When Ilse rose blushingly for this purpose, her eyes glanced involuntarily to the next table, where the wife of Struvelius was sitting opposite, and she observed that the latter half moved her hand toward her glass, then quickly drew it back, and looked gloomily down.

The company rose, and now the hilarity began in good earnest, for the Professors became lively, and called to mind their old agility. There was a changed aspect in the room, for soon even respectable, middle-aged gentlemen waltzed with their own wives. Oh! it was a cheering and touching spectacle to Ilse. Many an old dress-coat and clumsy boot moved to the measure; and many of the gentlemen danced with various slidings of the feet, and bold movements of the knees, determined to recall the style of their youthful days, and with the feeling that they still understood the art. Some of the ladies clung shyly to the arms of the dancers, some were ungraceful in their movements, others showed how well they were able to govern at home,--for, when their husbands were not sufficiently practiced in the art, they knew how to carry them round the circle with vigorous swings. The Rector danced very neatly with his chubby wife, and Raschke danced with his wife, and looked triumphantly toward Ilse. The noisy merriment increased; all Ilse's neighbors were carried away by the excitement, and commenced waltzing. And Ilse stood looking on not far from a pillar. Somebody came behind and touched her; there was a rustling of a silk dress, and the wife of Struvelius approached her.

Ilse looked startled at the large grey eyes of her opponent, who began slowly:

"I take you to be a noble-minded woman, quite incapable of any mean feeling, and this is why I have now come to speak to you."

Ilse bowed slightly, in order to express her thanks for the unexpected declaration.

"I go about," continued Mrs. Struvelius, in her measured way, "as if a curse were on me. What I have suffered the last few weeks is unutterable; this evening I feel like an outcast in this joyous gathering." Her hand trembled, but she continued in a monotonous tone: "My husband is innocent, and is convinced that he is right in the main. It is fitting for me, as his wife, to share his views and his fate; but I see him inwardly disturbed by an unfortunate entanglement, and I perceive with dismay that he may lose the good opinion of his most intimate friends, if he should not succeed in dispelling the suspicions which gather about his head. Help me!" she cried, with a sudden outburst, wringing her hands, while two big tears rolled down her cheeks.

"How can I do that?" asked Ilse.

"There is a secret in the affair," continued Mrs. Struvelius: "my husband was incautious enough to promise unconditional silence, and his word is sacred to him; he is a child in matters of business, and is quite at a loss what to do in the matter. What may be necessary to justify him must be sought without his knowledge or co-operation. I beg of you not to refuse your assistance."