Through Night to Light: A NovelSpielhagen, Friedrich
General
Through Night to Light: A Novel
Spielhagen, Friedrich
Fiction
And indeed there were reasons why it was hard for the privy councillor
to drive away the gray shadowy form of care, as it pressed more and
more closely upon him the darker the room grew. He who had himself
observed so many similar cases, could least of all disguise from
himself how precarious his physical condition was. He knew but too well
that he was doomed to be henceforth a cripple in body and mind, that he
was only a pensioner on life, and that death might come at any moment
to collect the debt which was long since due. And yet, much as he was
attached to life, this was his least sorrow. The physician did not
struggle against omnipotent fate, which had never yet granted him one
of its victims; the pupil of Epicure knew that joy and grief, delight
and suffering, are inseparably interwoven in our life. But what made
his heart particularly heavy, was the thought of his inability to
arrange his circumstances, that he should have to leave life a
bankrupt, and that after all he should have to rob his creditors of
their rights by his death. Had he not always referred them to the
future, and now the future refused to accept the draft; now the
credulous man was to be denied credit at the very bank on whose credit
he had so implicitly relied.
The unfortunate man sighed, hiding his deep-bowed head in his hands.
And his daughter, his darling daughter! Where was now the hope he had
cherished to endow her with a fortune which was forever to free the
spoilt, tender child from all the vulgar cares of life? which was to
afford her the means always to enjoy a comfortable existence such as
alone seemed to be suitable for the character of the young girl? Now he
could not only leave her no fortune--no! but not even an honest,
stainless name!
She had no idea of the painful pecuniary situation of her father. He
never had the courage to trouble her childlike mind with cares which he
tried to keep from himself as long as he could. She took it for granted
that her father was, if not a rich man, at least well-to-do, and that
she could enjoy the simple comforts by which she was surrounded with a
clear conscience.
And was she the only one who labored under this illusion, and whom he
had allowed to remain blind from fear of an explanation? Did not his
friends think the same? Above all, the youngest and dearest of his
friends, the man who had won his daughter's heart, and whom he himself
loved with hearty, paternal love; who deserved such friendship, such
love, by his upright, noble bearing, by his ability and his goodness;
what would he say, what would he do, if he should learn what sooner or
later he would have to learn--nay, what the father of his future wife
was under such circumstances bound to tell him without further delay,
if he did not mean to renounce all claims to be considered an honest
man?
The privy councillor pressed his trembling hands upon his eyes and
groaned loud, like one who is suffering cruel torture.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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