After a forced laugh, he thus began: "I have bought my bones back from
this man--I had sold them to him for a bottle of gentian; and it used
to amuse me to think how my noble self would, at some future time, be
converted into grass and flowers on the hillside, and perhaps furnish
food for cattle.
"But, pardon me," he said, interrupting himself; "forgive me, I beg of
you; I ought not to address you in that tone. Forget this, and listen
to me with patience. I will confide my last will to you; you have often
provoked me, but now I am glad that you are here. The thought of you
followed me in the woods, sat by me at my bedside, and has deprived me
of rest. I have always wanted to learn what your weak side was, and now
I have found it out.
"My father was a worldly-wise man. He divided mankind into two
classes--charlatans and weaklings. He maintained that in all that is
termed love, be it love of woman or love of the people, there is a
large portion of charlatanry, which at first consciously, and afterward
without our knowing it, deceives both ourselves and others. You are not
a charlatan--but you are vain.
"Do not shake your head, for it is so. Of course, vanity is not a vice;
but it is a weakness, for it shows dependence on others. You offered
your hand to Funk, because you felt too weak to have an enemy running
about in this world. Since I have made that discovery and convinced
myself on that point, you no longer worry me. You too have your share
in the misery that belongs to the species of vermin that terms itself
man. It is out at last--now I have nothing more against you. Indeed, I
cannot better prove this than by the fact of my asking you to help me.
Usually, I have not required the assistance of others, but now I need
yours; and I think that is enough to make you feel that you must aid
me."
I consented, but in my own mind I felt a dread of this man, who, in his
bitter candor, seemed much more terrible than when taciturn.
"I request, nay I demand--" he continued--"do not interrupt me; let me
speak for myself.
"Do you know who I am? For years, I have been called by a strange name.
You cannot imagine how pleasant it is to be so constantly a masker, in
the mummery known as life. I shall not, at present, mention my true
name, but you may rest assured it is an old and a noble one, and
related to that of Johannisberg.
"My father--he was indeed my father--had become reduced, and he led a
merry life, although I did not know where the means came from. At a
later day, I discovered all. He purchased a captaincy for me.
'Purchased,' he said, but it had really, so to say, been presented to
him. He had carried others' hides to market; perhaps a couple of human
skins to be tanned. His master had many of these tanners in the state
_vade mecums_ known as prisons.
"I was, as I have told you, a captain at Mayence, and my father lived
near there, at Wiesbaden. He was known as Hofrath.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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