Courts and courtiers -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English; Germany -- Fiction
They went back a little, but their disquietude would not allow them to
go very far back, so they turned right about again, and decided to push
on the way they had already come, and to trust to luck. Their way lay
through a damp, stuffy atmosphere, and great undisturbed cobwebs
stretched across the corners; they went with heavy hearts, and Ditlinde
especially was full of repentance and on the brink of tears. People
would notice her absence, would "look sadly" at her, perhaps even tell
the Grand Duke; they would never find the way, would be forgotten and
die of hunger. And where there was a rat-trap, Klaus Heinrich, there
were also rats.... Klaus Heinrich comforted her. They only had to find
the place where the armour and crossed standards hung; from that point
he was quite sure of the direction. And suddenly--they had just passed a
bend in the winding passage--suddenly something happened. It startled
them dreadfully.
What they had heard was more than the echo of their own steps, they were
other, strange steps, heavier than theirs; they came towards them now
quickly, now hesitatingly, and were accompanied by a snorting and
grumbling which made their blood run cold. Ditlinde made as if to run
away from fright: but Klaus Heinrich would not let go her hand, and they
stood with starting eyes waiting for what was coming.
It was a man who was just visible in the half-darkness, and, calmly
considered, his appearance was not horrifying. He was squat in figure,
and dressed like a veteran soldier. He wore a frock-coat of
old-fashioned cut, a woollen comforter round his neck and a medal on his
breast. He held in one hand a curly top-hat and in the other the bone
handle of his clumsily rolled-up umbrella, which he tapped on the flags
in time with his steps. His thin grey hair was plastered up from one ear
in wisps over his skull. He had bow-shaped black eyebrows, and a
yellow-white beard, which grew like the Grand Duke's, heavy upper-lids,
and watery blue eyes with pouches of withered skin under them; he had
the usual high cheek-bones, and the furrows of his sun-burnt face were
like crevasses. When he had come quite close he seemed to recognize the
children, for he placed himself against the outer wall of the passage,
at once fronted round and began to make a number of bows, consisting of
several short forward jerks of his whole body from the feet upwards,
while he imparted a look of honesty to his mouth and held his top-hat
crown-downwards in front of him. Klaus Heinrich meant to pass him by
with a nod, but was surprised into halting, for the veteran began to
speak.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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