lantlort, ant laid it on ze table in his room. Zen I taket my tresses,
tree Thaler of money, ant go mysteriously into ze street. Nopoty have
seen me, ant I go on ze roat.'
X. CONCLUSION OF KARL'S NARRATIVE
'I had not seen my Mamma for nine year, ant I know not whether she lived
or whether her bones had long since lain in ze dark grave. Ven I come to
my own country and go to ze town I ask, 'Where live Kustaf Mayer who was
farmer to ze Count von Zomerblat?' ant zey answer me, 'Graf Zomerblat
is deat, ant Kustaf Mayer live now in ze pig street, ant keep a
public-house.' So I tress in my new waistcoat and one noble coat which
ze manufacturist presented me, arranged my hairs nice, ant go to ze
public-house of my Papa. Sister Mariechen vas sitting on a pench, and
she ask me what I want. I says, 'Might I trink one glass of pranty?'
ant she says, 'Vater, here is a yong man who wish to trink one glass of
pranty.' Ant Papa says, 'Give him ze glass.' I set to ze table, trink my
glass of pranty, smoke my pipe, ant look at Papa, Mariechen, ant Johann
(who also come into ze shop). In ze conversation Papa says, 'You know,
perhaps, yong man, where stants our army?' and I say, 'I myself am come
from ze army, ant it stants now at Wien.' 'Our son,' says Papa, 'is a
Soldat, ant now is it nine years since he wrote never one wort, and we
know not whether he is alive or dead. My voman cry continually for him.'
I still fumigate the pipe, ant say, 'What was your son's name, and where
servet he? Perhaps I may know him.' 'His name was Karl Mayer, ant he
servet in ze Austrian Jagers.' 'He were of pig stature, ant a handsome
man like yourself,' puts in Mariechen. I say, 'I know your Karl.'
'Amalia,' exclaimet my Vater. 'Come here! Here is yong man which knows
our Karl!'--ant my dear Mutter comes out from a back door. I knew her
directly. 'You know our Karl?' says she, ant looks at me, ant, white all
over, trembles. 'Yes, I haf seen him,' I says, without ze corage to look
at her, for my heart did almost burst. 'My Karl is alive?' she cry. 'Zen
tank Got! Vere is he, my Karl? I woult die in peace if I coult see him
once more--my darling son! Bot Got will not haf it so.' Then she cried,
and I coult no longer stant it. 'Darling Mamma!' I say, 'I am your son,
I am your Karl!'--and she fell into my arms.'
Karl Ivanitch covered his eyes, and his lips were quivering.
''Mutter,' sagte ich, 'ich bin ihr Sohn, ich bin ihr Karl!'--und sie
sturtzte mir in die Arme!'' he repeated, recovering a little and wiping
the tears from his eyes.
'Bot Got did not wish me to finish my tays in my own town. I were
pursuet by fate. I livet in my own town only sree mons. One Suntay I sit
in a coffee-house, ant trinket one pint of Pier, ant fumigated my
pipe, ant speaket wis some frients of Politik, of ze Emperor Franz, of
Napoleon, of ze war--ant anypoty might say his opinion. But next to us
sits a strange chentleman in a grey Uberrock, who trink coffee, fumigate
the pipe, ant says nosing. Ven the night watchman shoutet ten o'clock I
taket my hat, paid ze money, and go home. At ze middle of ze night
some one knock at ze door. I rise ant says, 'Who is zere?' 'Open!' says
someone. I shout again, 'First say who is zere, ant I will open.' 'Open
in the name of the law!' say the someone behint the door. I now do so.
Two Soldaten wis gons stant at ze door, ant into ze room steps ze man in
ze grey Uberrock, who had sat with us in ze coffeehouse. He were Spion!
'Come wis me,' says ze Spion, 'Very goot!' say I. I dresset myself in
