What the Swallow Sang: A NovelSpielhagen, Friedrich
General
What the Swallow Sang: A Novel
Spielhagen, Friedrich
Fiction
"You're a pretty fellow," cried Hans Redebas, who was walking with Otto
von Plueggen, as Brandow with Gustav von Plueggen and Pastor Semmel met
him on the same spot for the third time: "first you invite us to meet
some one who vanishes in the dew and mist; then it occurs to your
lovely wife, on whose account we all come here, to have a headache and
not appear; and finally, we're kept waiting for the Assessor, and
wandering around your old wet garden like horses in a tread-mill! I'll
give you ten minutes, and if we don't sit down to the table by that
time I'll have my horses harnessed, and we'll dine in Dahlitz, and not
badly either. What do you say to that, Pastor?"
And Herr Redebas laughed and clapped the Pastor, who had come with him
in his carriage, rudely on the shoulder. Brandow laughed too, and said
they must have patience; it was not his fault that the Assessor had not
arrived, and things had gone contrary that day; the dinner had been
ready a long time.
"Then in the name of three devils, let's go to the table, or I shall
faint away," cried Herr Redebas.
It was by no means probable that this man, with the frame and strength
of a giant, would be overcome by such a sudden attack of weakness; but
Brandow had every reason not to increase the ill-humor of his guests.
Already, to shorten the time before dinner, they had played a game of
cards, in which the Pastor took no share except by his intense
interest, and lost a few hundred thalers. To be sure, the amount was
very little in comparison to the sum he owed his visitors; but they had
been irritated by the loss, and took the less care to conceal their
annoyance as Brandow still uttered no word in allusion to the business
for whose settlement they had really assembled. Undoubtedly he was
unable to pay. To be sure, they had expected it, nay, in point of fact,
the whole transaction which Hans Redebas and the two Plueggens had
jointly undertaken was based upon this supposition; but now each was
not sorry to consider himself in the light of a man of honor, whose
confidence had been most shamefully betrayed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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