On the Night of the Seventh Moon (28 page)

BOOK: On the Night of the Seventh Moon
6.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

He took my wrist and held it so firmly that I could not release it. Rather than attempt and fail I sat down.

“Pray tell me how you came here?” he said.

I told him about Frau Graben's coming into the shop, how we had spoken in German because her English was not very good.

“We grew friendly,” I said. “She thought it would be a good idea if I came out to teach the children English, so I came.”

“What is she up to?” he murmured.

“I think she thought it would be good for the children to speak English.”

“English teachers are not very difficult to come by,” he mocked.

“Frau Graben thought a native would be best to teach the language.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Well,” he said at length, “I'm glad she brought you over.”

“I had the impression that you did not greatly admire my teaching ability.”

“But there are some things I do admire about you.”

“Thank you.” I rose again. “If you will excuse me.”

“No,” he said. “I will not. I have made it very clear that I wish to talk to you.”

“I cannot understand what we should have to talk about except the children's progress in English and we have discussed that already.”

“That was a not very inspiring topic,” he said. “I am sure we have greater points of interest. I find you amusing.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“That is what I call mock surprise? You know you amuse me. I see no reason why we should not become good friends.”

“I see many reasons.”

“What are they?”

“Your elevated position for one thing. Aren't you the nephew of the Duke? You have already seen that my knowledge of protocol is negligible.”

“It is easily acquired.”

“No doubt by those in the position to do so. As an English teacher—even though a parent of my charges is in a very exalted position—I could hardly expect noble etiquette to concern me.”

“It could concern you if I wished it.”

“Oh but surely that would be another breach of the social code. After all, I am not even teaching your
legitimate
offspring.”

He leaned toward me. “Would you care to? It could be arranged.”

“I am happy with the present arrangement.”

“Your cool English airs delight me. You behave as though I am a customer in the er . . . bookshop, was it?”

“Our encounter is not dissimilar. I have to sell my services as a teacher; you as my employer are buying them.”

“Ours is a more lengthy transaction surely.”

“You would be surprised how many customers come back and back again in bookshops.”

“I think you and I are going to be on closer terms. What do you think? Or haven't you thought about it yet?”

“I do not have to think very long. I know that our respective positions and characters make a close acquaintance impossible.”

He was taken slightly aback and I felt the victory was mine particularly as the gate clicked again and there stood Frau Graben smiling at us.

“I knew you were here,” she said. “Miss Trant, Pastor Kratz wants to talk to you . . . something about changing the time of tomorrow's lesson. Fredi, I wanted a word with you.”

He frowned at her.

“Oh you can frown Herr Donner,” she said. “You know I won't have tantrums.”

As I hurried through the gate, I saw her fat smile as she prepared to do battle with the Count. I was reminded of Hildegarde, my guardian angel of the hunting lodge.

 

My thoughts were in a turmoil for the rest of the day. I knew that relentless obstinacy of men like Count Frederic. I could picture his riding through the countryside, selecting the women who took his fancy briefly. He had believed that I would be so overawed by his importance, so beguiled by his masculine charm, that I would be the next victim. If, in spite of my attitude he still believed he could overcome my resistance, he was mistaken.

More vividly than ever there came back to me that day when Maximilian had loomed out of the mist. Could it really have been that he had been such another as this man? I was now ten years older than that girl who had been so deeply impressed, who had fallen so much in love with the hero of the forest that she had never forgotten him even though there were times when she feared he had been only another bold adventurer. Had I endowed him with the qualities of the heroes of his country's legends? Was the picture I had treasured for so many years only one of my own painting? If ten years ago the Count had shared that adventure would I have believed him to possess those qualities with which I had endowed Maximilian?

When I went into the schoolroom after the Count had left there was a babble of excitement among the children. They were going hunting tomorrow with the Count.

“Who told you that?” I asked.

“The Count did,” said Dagobert. “He is coming for us at nine o'clock.”

Dagobert's eyes shone with excitement but I detected a trace of apprehension. Even he was afraid that he could not match up to his father's expectations. As for Fritz I could see that he was in a state of
terror. I guessed that after what had happened in the pavilion during the slaughter of the deer, he would be expected, as his father would put it, to show his manhood. It wouldn't surprise me if this were not the purpose of the exercise. The child sensed this I believed and was very disturbed about it.

Liesel would not accompany them of course. She was going to watch them ride off. There would be a party of them and they were going to hunt boar, the most dangerous creatures of the forest. Boars could be really vicious, Dagobert told me.

“My father likes hunting boar.”

“Say it in English please, Dagobert,” I said automatically.

 

That night footsteps awakened me again. Stealthily they went past my door. This time I immediately thought of Fritz. I listened to which direction they were going. It was not to the turret room this time.

Hastily I lighted my candle, put on my slippers and wrapped my dressing gown about me. By the time I had done this I could no longer hear the footsteps. But I knew that they had descended the stairs. I went down the spiral staircase, through the narrow passages. A cold breeze sweeping into the fortress told me which door was open.

I hurried to it and I saw the small figure walking steadily toward the stables.

I ran.

Fritz was at the stable door; he was trying to open it.

I caught him. The blank expression of the sleepwalker was on his face.

I took him gently by the hand and led him back to the fortress. Although it was summer and the days warm, the temperature dropped considerably at night and his hand was icily cold. I led him carefully to his room. He was shivering; his feet were chilled; he wore nothing but his nightshirt. He was murmuring something: “No . . . please no.” And there was such fear in those words that I was sure I knew what was troubling him.

Tomorrow he was to go out hunting wild boar with his father: and he was afraid. That would explain why he had gone to the stables.

I felt a fury against this insensitive man who did not understand that he had a son who might well be brilliant. I had immediately assessed Fritz's mental capacity; but because of this he was imaginative in a manner which men such as the Count could not understand.

I leaned over Fritz. I said: “It's all right, Fritzi.”

He opened his eyes.

He said: “
Mutter
. . .” Then, “Miss . . .”

“Hello, Fritz. Yes, I'm here.”

“Did I walk?”

“A little . . .”

He began to shiver.

I said: “It's all right. Lots of people do it. I heard you and brought you back to bed.”

“You heard me last time. Dagobert heard them talking about it.”

“I've got a special pair of ears for you.”

That made him laugh.

“Tomorrow, Fritz,” I said, “you're not going to the hunt.”

“Did my father say . . . ?”


I
said you're not.”

“You can't, miss.”

“Oh yes, I can,” I said. “Your feet are like ice. I'm going to put an extra blanket on. And tomorrow morning you're to stay in bed. You're a little chilled. And you won't get up until it's too late to go with the hunters.”

“Can I, miss. Who says . . . ?”


I
say,” I said firmly.

In some way I had won his confidence. He believed me. I stayed by his bed until he fell into a peaceful sleep which was in a very short time.

Then I went back to my room and tried to sleep.

I must be ready for the battle which would surely come the next morning.

 

.  .  .

 

I watched the Count and his party riding up to the
Schloss,
and steeling myself went down and out of the fortress to the
Randhausburg.
Dagobert was already there in his riding outfit.

As he was greeting his father I slipped inside and waited in the
Rittersaal.
My battle with the Count must take place unobserved; I should never win if we had spectators because he was the sort of man who would never concede if observed.

He had seen me enter and, as I knew he would, he quickly followed me there.

“Good morning, Miss Trant,” he said. “How gracious of you to come down to greet my party.”

“I did so because I wanted to speak to you about Fritz.”

“The boy, I suppose, is waiting to leave with us.”

“No. I have told him to stay in bed for the morning. He was chilled last night.”

He stared at me in astonishment. “Chilled!” he cried. “In bed! Miss Trant, what do you mean?”

“Exactly what I say. Last night Fritz walked in his sleep. I gathered he does this when he is disturbed. He is a sensitive child, studious rather than athletic.”

“That seems to me all the more reason why he should take more physical exercise. Pray tell him to get up at once and that I am angry because he was not ready and eager to go to hunt the boar.”

“Would you have him pretend to feel something he doesn't?”

“I would have him hide his cowardice and pretend to a little courage.”

“He is no coward,” I said fiercely.

“No? When he cowers behind the skirts of his teacher?”

“I must make this clear. It was on my orders that he stayed in bed this morning.”

“So you give orders here now, Miss Trant?”

“It is essential for the teacher to tell her pupils what to do.”

“Even when it is to disobey a parent?”

“It did not occur to me that any parent would want to drag a sick child from his bed.”

“How dramatic you are, Miss Trant! I did not think that an English characteristic.”

“I daresay it is not, but I must make you understand that Fritz is different from Dagobert. Now
he
will enjoy the hunt and he will not be tortured by an overactive imagination. You can make of him the sort of man you admire—someone in your own image.”

“Thank you for that assessment of my character, Miss Trant.”

“I think you understand perfectly that I would not presume to assess your character on such a short acquaintance, or, in fact, at all. I came here to teach children English and . . .”

“And their father how to treat his children. His idiosyncracies are no concern of yours, you say. Yet you belie this. Because now you are telling me how wrong my attitude is toward my son.”

“Will you do this for me?” I asked. His expression changed. He came closer. I held up a hand as though to ward him off and I went on quickly: “Do not insist that Fritz go to this hunt today. Please give me a chance with him. He is nervous and the way to disperse that nervousness is not to aggravate it, but to soothe it, to show him that a great deal that he fears lies only in his mind.”

“You talk like one of these new-fangled doctors one hears of nowadays. But you're a good advocate. What has Fritz done to deserve such concern?”

“He is a child who needs understanding. Please, will you allow me to have my way over this?”

“I've an idea, Miss Trant, that you are a young woman who often gets her way.”

“You are wrong in that.”

“Then you should be grateful to me.”

I was suddenly thinking happily of Fritz's relief when he heard the party riding away into the forest.

“You are charming when you smile,” he said. “It gives me pleasure to be responsible for such charm.”

“I am grateful,” I said.

He bowed. He took my hand then and kissed it; I took it from his grasp as soon as possible and he was laughing as he went out.

I went up to Fritz's room. He started as I entered.

I said, “The party is just leaving. Would you like to see them go? We can watch from the window.”

He looked at me as though I were a magician.

He stood at the window and watched the cavalcade ride out of the
Schloss
grounds down the slopes into the pine forest.

 

I sat by Fritz's bed and gave him a lesson in English. He sneezed once or twice and I went down to Frau Graben to tell her I thought he had a cold. She brought up her own remedy—a cordial she made herself. She smacked her lips as she took a spoonful of it.

“Lovely!” she said, beaming.

Fritz knew the cordial well and took it with relish. It made him sleepy, so I left him and went for a walk in the woods, but not very far from the
Schloss.
I had no desire to run into the hunting party.

It was a lovely afternoon. I came back and went to sit in the garden to prepare next day's lesson; it was peaceful there, shut in as it was by the short thick firs.

One of the two girls, Ella, who looked after us in the fortress, came down to tell me that Frau Graben had sent a message over to ask me to go to her sitting room.

I went; she had a little spirit lamp which she used in the summer and the kettle was boiling.

BOOK: On the Night of the Seventh Moon
6.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Deep Beneath by Natalie Wright
Downtime by Cynthia Felice
The Vandemark Mummy by Cynthia Voigt
Foundation by Aguirre, Ann
Building on Lies by T. Banny
Why Evolution Is True by Jerry A. Coyne
The Shadow Prince by Bree Despain