The Breaking of the Storm, Vol. I.Spielhagen, Friedrich
General
The Breaking of the Storm, Vol. I.
Spielhagen, Friedrich
Fiction
The rest of the party were already assembled. The two girls had
appeared arm-in-arm, and kept together, although the Count, who had
come forward hastily to meet them, directed his conversation to Elsa
alone. He hastened to inform Fräulein von Werben that the carriage that
was to fetch the doctor from Prora had been gone a quarter of an hour.
Did Fräulein von Werben take any interest in painting, and would she
allow him to direct her attention to some of the more important objects
that he had brought from the gallery of Castle Golm for the decoration
of the dining-room here, which really had appeared to him too bare.
This was a Watteau bought by his great-grandfather himself in Paris;
that was a fruit-piece by the Italian painter Gobbo, surnamed Da
Frutti, a pupil of Annibale Caracci; this large still-life scene was by
the Dutchman Jacob van Es. This flower-piece would be peculiarly
interesting to her, as it was by a lady, Rachel Ruysch, a Dutchwoman,
of course, whose pictures were in great request. Here, on the
_étagère_, was a service of Dresden china, formerly belonging to
Augustus the Strong, from whom his great-grandfather, who for many
years had been Swedish ambassador at the court of Dresden, had received
it in exchange for a team of Swedish horses, the first which had been
seen on the Continent; here was an equally beautiful service of Sèvres,
which he himself the preceding year had admired at the château of a
French nobleman, and had received as a gift from him, out of gratitude
for his successful efforts to preserve the château, which he (the
Count) had converted into a hospital.
"You do not care for old china, however?" said he, observing that the
lady's dark eyes only very briefly inspected his treasures.
"I have seen so little of it," said Elsa; "I do not know how to
appreciate its beauty."
"And then we are all rather hungry," said Meta, "I am at least. At home
we have supper at eight, and now it is eleven."
"Has not Captain Schmidt been told?" asked the Count of the butler.
"Yes, sir, a quarter of an hour ago."
"Then we will not wait any longer. The courtesy of kings does not seem
to be shared by merchant captains. Allow me."
He offered his arm to Elsa; hesitatingly she laid the tips of her
fingers upon it, she would gladly have spared the Captain the
awkwardness of finding the whole party at table. But her father had
already offered his arm to Meta's mother, the gallant President had
given his to Meta herself; the three couples were moving towards the
table which stood between them and the door, when the door opened, and
the wonderful figure of a bearded man in a tailcoat and high seaboots
appeared, in whom Elsa, to her horror, recognised the Captain. But the
next moment she was forced to smile like the others. Meta dropped the
President's arm and fled into a corner of the room, where she tried to
conceal behind her handkerchief the convulsive laughter which had
seized her at the unexpected appearance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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