The Breaking of the Storm, Vol. I.Spielhagen, Friedrich
General
The Breaking of the Storm, Vol. I.
Spielhagen, Friedrich
Fiction
The attitude was certainly simple enough. He was leaning against a
bench with his hands in his pockets, and as he looked straight out into
the sea towards the west, his face was in full light, notwithstanding
that the sun was hidden behind clouds, and it was also--what Elsa
always particularly liked to draw--in profile.
"A fine profile," thought Elsa, "although the finest features--the
large, good-humoured blue eyes--are not seen at their best so. But, on
the other hand, the dark beard will come out all the better, I can
always succeed with beards; the hands in the pockets is very
convenient, the left leg entirely hidden by the right, not particularly
artistic but most convenient for the artist; now the bench--a little
bit of the bulwarks and the 'Indefatigable' is finished." Elsa held the
book at a little distance from her to look at the sketch as a picture;
she was highly pleased. "That shows that I really can finish off a
thing when I do it with all my heart," she said to herself, and wrote
under the picture: "The 'Indefatigable.' With all my heart, 26th
August, '72, E. v. W."
While Elsa had been so busily trying to put upon paper the young man's
figure and features, her image also had been present to his mind; and
to him it was all the same, whether he shut his eyes or kept them open,
he always saw her with equal clearness, and always equally graceful and
charming, whether at the moment of their departure from Stettin, when
her father introduced her to the President, and she bowed so prettily;
or as she breakfasted with the two gentlemen, and laughed so merrily as
she put her glass to her lips; or as she stood on the bridge with the
Captain, and the wind blew her dress so close to the slender figure,
and the grey veil fluttered like a flag over her shoulder; or as she
spoke to the navvy's wife on the deck who was sitting in front of her
on the coiled-up ropes and hushing her baby wrapped up in a shawl; as
she stooped down, lifted the shawl for one moment, and looked with a
smile at the hidden treasure; and as, a minute later, she passed by,
and a severe look of the brown eyes asked him how he had dared to watch
her? or as she now sat against the cabin and read and drew, and read
again, and looked up to the clouds of smoke or to the sailor at the
wheel. It was extraordinary how firmly her image had impressed itself
on his mind in the short time; but then for more than a year he had
seen nothing but the sky above and the water below. It was no wonder
after all if the first pretty and nice-looking girl he saw after such
long abstinence made so great an impression upon his feelings.
"And besides," said the young man to himself, "in three hours we shall
be at Sundin, and then farewell, farewell for ever more. But what are
they doing? You are surely not going over the Oster sands with this
tide?"
With these latter words he turned to the man at the wheel.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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