Well, I could not but forgive the blooming, brave pedestrian all
omissions. Her eye, then her heart was bringing fresh cool morning air
and morning red into my sultry hours. And yet, for this kind soul,
looking into life with such love and hope, I must in a little while
overcloud the merited Heaven of to-day, with tidings of my failure in
the Catechetical Professorship! I dallied and postponed to the utmost.
I asked how she had got in, as the whole _chevaux-de-frise_ barricado
of chairs was still standing fast at the door. She laughed heartily,
courtesying in village fashion, and said, she had planned it with her
brother the day before yesterday, knowing my precautions in locking,
that he should admit her into my room, that so she might cunningly
awaken me. And now bolted the Dragoon with loud laughter into the
apartment, and cried: "Slept well, brother?"
In this wise truly the whole ghost-story was now solved and expounded,
as if by the pen of a Biester or a Hennings. I instantly saw through
the entire ghost-scheme which our Dragoon had executed. With some
bitterness I told him my conjecture, and his sister my story. But
he lied and laughed; nay, attempted shamelessly enough to palm
spectre-notions on me a second time, in open day. I answered coldly,
that in me he had found the wrong man, granting even that I had some
similarity with Luther, with Hobbes, with Brutus, all of whom had seen
and dreaded ghosts. He replied, tearing the facts away from their
originating causes: "All he could say was, that last night he had heard
some poor sinner creaking and lamenting dolefully enough; and from this
he had inferred it must be an unhappy brother set upon by goblins."
------------------------
79. Weak and wrong heads are the hardest to change; and their inward
man acquires a scanty covering; thus capons never moult.
------------------------
In the end, his sister's eyes also were opened to the low character
which he had tried to act with me; she sharply flew at him, pushed
him with both hands out of his and my door, and called after him:
"Wait, thou villain, I will mind it!"
Then hastily turning round, she fell on my neck, and (at the wrong
place) into laughter, and said: "The wild fool! But I could not keep my
laugh another minute, and he was not to see it. Forgive the ninny, thou
a learned man, his ass-pranks; what can one expect?"
I inquired whether she, in her nocturnal travelling, had not met any
spectral persons; though I knew that to her a wild beast, a river, a
half abyss, are nothing. No, she had not; but the gay-dressed
town's-people, she said, had scared her in the morning. O, how I do
love these soft Harmonica-quiverings of female fright!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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