Tales from the German, Comprising specimens from the most celebrated authors
General
Tales from the German, Comprising specimens from the most celebrated authors
German fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories
“‘_Topp_, comrade!’ he cried, as he drew a tin flask out of his
hunting-pouch, took a good draught from it, and handed it to me.
Flight and anguish had exhausted my energies, and nothing had passed my
lips the whole day. I had already feared that I should have sunk from
exhaustion in this wood, where no refreshment was to be expected for
three miles round. Judge how joyfully I responded to this health.
With the animating draught new strength flowed into my bones, new
courage into my heart, and I felt hope and the love of life. I began
to think that perhaps I was not quite wretched; so much at least was
the welcome beverage all to do. Yes, I must even confess that my
situation approached that of happiness, for at last, after a thousand
vain hopes, I had found a creature who seemed similar to myself. In
the condition to which I had fallen I should have drank good fellowship
with the spirit of evil himself for the sake of having a confidant.
“The man had stretched himself out on the grass. I did the same.
“‘Your liquor has done me good,’ said I. ‘We must become acquainted.’
“He struck fire to light his pipe.
“‘Have you carried on this business long?’
“He looked hard at me. ‘What do you mean by that?’
“‘Has this often been stained with blood?’ I drew the knife from his
girdle.
“‘Who are you?’ said he, in a fearful tone, and he laid down his pipe.
“‘A murderer like you, but only a beginner.’
“The man stared at me, and took up his pipe again. ‘Do you reside
here?’ he said at last.
“‘Three miles off. I am the host of the Sun at ----, of whom perhaps
you have heard.’
“The man sprung up as if possessed. ‘The poacher Wolf,’ he cried
hastily.
“‘The same!’
“‘Welcome, comrade, welcome!’ cried he, and shook my hands violently.
‘That is brave, that I have you at last, mine host of the Sun. Day and
night have I been thinking how to get you. I know you well. I know
all. I have reckoned on you long ago.’
“‘Reckoned on me! For what?’
“‘The whole country round is full of you. You have enemies! A bailiff
has oppressed you, Wolf! They have ruined you, and the wrongs you have
suffered cry aloud to Heaven.’
“The man became warm. ‘Because you have shot a few hogs, which the
prince feeds in our fields they have dragged you about for years in the
house of correction and the fortification, they have robbed you of your
house and business and made you a beggar. Has it come to this,
brother, that a man is worth no more than a hare? Are we not better
than brutes of the field? And a fellow like you could suffer that?’
“‘Could I alter it?’
“‘That we shall see. But tell me, whence do you come, and what do you
purpose?’
“I began to tell him all my history. The man, without waiting till I
had finished it, sprung up with joyous impatience, and drew me after
him. ‘Come, brother host of the Sun,’ said he, ‘now you are ripe, now
I have you when I wanted you. I shall get honour by you. Follow me.’
“‘Where will you take me?’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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