“Very right, sir, I am sure,” said Mr. Killian.
They had been strolling with deliberation; but they were now drawing near to the farmhouse, mounting by the trellised pathway to the level of the meadow. A little before them, the sound of voices had been some while audible, and now grew louder and more distinct with every step of their advance. Presently, when they emerged upon the top of the bank, they beheld Fritz and Ottilia some way off; he, very black and bloodshot, emphasising his hoarse speech with the smacking of his fist against his palm; she, standing a little way off in blowsy, voluble distress.
“Dear me!” said Mr. Gottesheim, and made as if he would turn aside.
But Otto went straight towards the lovers, in whose dissension he believed himself to have a share. And, indeed, as soon as he had seen the Prince, Fritz had stood tragic, as if awaiting and defying his approach.
“Oh, here you are!” he cried, as soon as they were near enough for easy speech. “You are a man at least, and must reply. What were you after? Why were you two skulking in the bush? God!” he broke out, turning again upon Ottilia, “to think that I should waste my heart on you!”
“I beg your pardon,” Otto cut in. “You were addressing me. In virtue of what circumstance am I to render you an account of this young lady’s conduct? Are you her father? her brother? her husband?”
“Oh, sir, you know as well as I,” returned the peasant. “We keep company, she and I. I love her, and she is by way of loving me; but all shall be aboveboard, I would have her to know. I have a good pride of my own.”
“Why, I perceive I must explain to you what love is,” said Otto. “Its measure is kindness. It is very possible that you are proud; but she, too, may have some self-esteem; I do not speak for myself. And perhaps, if your own doings were so curiously examined, you might find it inconvenient to reply.”
“These are all set-offs,” said the young man. “You know very well that a man is a man, and a woman only a woman. That holds good all over, up and down. I ask you a question, I ask it again, and here I stand.” He drew a mark and toed it.
“When you have studied liberal doctrines somewhat deeper,” said the Prince, “you will perhaps change your note. You are a man of false weights and measures, my young friend. You have one scale for women, another for men; one for princes, and one for farmer-folk. On the prince who neglects his wife you can be most severe. But what of the lover who insults his mistress? You use the name of love. I should think this lady might very fairly ask to be delivered from love of such a nature. For if I, a stranger, had been one-tenth part so gross and so discourteous, you would most righteously have broke my head. It would have been in your part, as lover, to protect her from such insolence. Protect her first, then, from yourself.”
“Ay,” quoth Mr. Gottesheim, who had been looking on with his hands behind his tall old back, “ay, that’s Scripture truth.”
Fritz was staggered, not only by the Prince’s imperturbable superiority of manner, but by a glimmering consciousness that he himself was in the wrong. The appeal to liberal doctrines had, besides, unmanned him.
“Well,” said he, “if I was rude, I’ll own to it. I meant no ill, and did nothing out of my just rights; but I am above all these old vulgar notions too; and if I spoke sharp, I’ll ask her pardon.”
“Freely granted, Fritz,” said Ottilia.
“But all this doesn’t answer me,” cried Fritz. “I ask what you two spoke about. She says she promised not to tell; well, then, I mean to know. Civility is civility, but I’ll be no man’s gull. I have a right to common justice, if I do keep company!”
“If you will ask Mr. Gottesheim,” replied Otto, “you will find I have not spent my hours in idleness. I have, since I arose this morning, agreed to buy the farm. So far I will go to satisfy a curiosity which I condemn.”
“Oh, well, if there was business, that’s another matter,” returned Fritz. “Though it beats me why you could not tell. But, of course, if the gentleman is to buy the farm, I suppose there would naturally be an end.”
“To be sure,” said Mr. Gottesheim, with a strong accent of conviction.
But Ottilia was much braver. “There now!” she cried in triumph. “What did I tell you? I told you I was fighting your battles. Now you see! Think shame of your suspicious temper! You should go down upon your bended knees both to that gentleman and me.”
IV
In Which the Prince Collects Opinions by the Way
A little before noon Otto, by a triumph of manoeuvring, effected his escape. He was quit in this way of the ponderous gratitude of Mr. Killian, and of the confidential gratitude of poor Ottilia; but of Fritz he was not quit so readily. That young politician, brimming with mysterious glances, offered to lend his convoy as far as to the high road; and Otto, in fear of some residuary jealousy and for the girl’s sake, had not the courage to gainsay him; but he regarded his companion with uneasy glances, and devoutly wished the business at an end. For some time Fritz walked by the mare in silence; and they had already traversed more than half the proposed distance when, with something of a blush, he looked up and opened fire.
“Are you not,” he asked, “what they call a socialist?”
“Why, no,” returned Otto, “not precisely what they call so. Why do you ask?”
“I will tell you why,” said the
