"You cannot bear me, sir. You hate me; I know it; yet why do you hate me? Is it because you attacked me on the highway, and sought to deprive me by violence of my bird's nest? Or is it because you have endeavored, in a thievish manner, to cheat me out of my property, the shadow, which was intrusted to you entirely on your honor? I, for my part, do not hate you in spite of all this. I find it quite natural that you should seek to avail yourself of all your advantages, cunning, and power. Neither do I object to your very strict principles and to your fancy to think like honesty itself. In fact, I think not so strictly as you; I merely act as you think. Or have I at any time pressed my finger on your throat in order to bring to me your most precious soul, for which I have a fancy? Have I, on account of my bartered purse, let a servant loose on you? Have I sought to swindle you out of it?" I had nothing to oppose to this, and he proceeded: "Very good, sir! very good! You cannot endure me; I know that very well, and am by no means angry with you for it. We must part, that is clear, and, in fact, you begin to be very wearisome to me. In order, then, to rid you of my continued, shame-inspiring presence, I counsel you once more to purchase this thing from me." I extended to him the purse: "At that price?"—"No!"
I sighed deeply, and added, "Be it so, then. I insist, sir, that we part, and that you no longer obstruct my path in a world which, it is to be hoped, has room enough in it for us both." He smiled, and replied: "I go, sir; but first let me instruct you how you may ring for me when you desire to see again your most devoted servant. You have only to shake your purse, so that the eternal gold pieces therein jingle, and the sound will instantly attract me. Every one thinks of his own advantage in this world. You see that I at the same time am thoughtful of yours, since I reveal to you a new power. Oh! this purse!—had the moths already devoured your shadow, that would still constitute a strong bond between us. Enough, you have me in my gold. Should you have any commands, even when far off, for your servant, you know that I can show myself very active in the service of my friends, and the rich stand particularly well with me. You have seen it yourself. Only your shadow, sir—allow me to tell you that—never again, except on one sole condition."
Forms of the past time swept before my soul. I demanded hastily—"Had you a signature from Mr. John?" He smiled. "With so good a friend it was by no means necessary." "Where is he? By God, I wish to know it!" He hesitatingly plunged his hand into his pocket, and, dragged thence by the hair, appeared Thomas John's ghastly disfigured form, and the blue death-lips moved themselves with heavy words: "Justo judicio Dei judicatus sum; justo judicio Dei condemnatus sum." I shuddered with horror, and dashing the ringing purse into the abyss, I spoke to him the last words—"I adjure thee, horrible one, in the name of God, take thyself hence, and never again show thyself in my sight!"
He arose gloomily, and instantly vanished behind the masses of rock which bounded this wild, overgrown spot.
CHAPTER IX
I sat there without shadow and without money, but a heavy weight was taken from my bosom. I was calm. Had I not also lost my love, or had I in that loss felt myself free from blame, I believe that I should have been happy; but I knew not what I should do. I examined my pockets; I found yet several gold pieces there; I counted them and laughed. I had my horses below at the inn; I was ashamed of returning thither; I must, at least, wait till the sun was gone down; it stood yet high in the heavens. I laid myself down in the shade of the nearest trees, and calmly fell asleep.
Lovely shapes blended themselves before me in charming dance into a pleasing dream. Mina with a flower-wreath in her hair floated by me, and smiled kindly upon me. The noble Bendel also was crowned with flowers, and went past with a friendly greeting. I saw many besides, and I believe thee too, Chamisso, in the distant throng. A bright light appeared, but no one had a shadow, and, what was stranger, it had by no means a bad effect. Flowers and songs, love and joy, under groves of palm! I could neither hold fast nor interpret the moving, lightly floating, lovable forms; but I knew that I dreamed such a dream with joy, and was careful to avoid waking. I was already awake, but still kept my eyes closed in order to retain the fading apparition longer before my soul.
I finally opened my eyes; the sun stood still high in the heavens, but in the east; I had slept through the night. I took it for a sign that I should not return to the inn. I gave up readily as lost what I yet possessed there, and determined to strike on foot into a branch road, which led along the wood-grown feet of the mountains, leaving it to fate to fulfil what it had yet in store for me. I looked not behind me, and thought not even of applying to Bendel, whom I left rich behind me, and which I could readily have done. I considered the new character which I should support in the world. My dress was very modest. I had on an old black polonaise, which I had already worn in Berlin, and which, I know not how, had first come again into my hands for this journey. I had also a traveling cap on my head, a pair of old boots on my feet. I arose, and cut me on the spot a knotty stick as a memorial, and pursued my wandering.
I met in the wood an old peasant who, friendly, greeted me, and with whom I entered into conversation. I inquired, like an inquisitive traveler, first the way, then about the country and its inhabitants, the productions of the mountains, and many such things. He answered my questions sensibly and loquaciously. We came to the bed of a mountain torrent, which had spread its devastations over a wide tract of the forest. I shuddered involuntarily at the sun-bright space, and allowed the countryman to go first; but in the midst of this dangerous spot, he stood still, and turned to relate to me the history of this desolation. He saw immediately my defect, and paused in the midst of his discourse.
"But how does that happen—the gentleman has actually no shadow!"