The Breaking of the Storm

The Breaking of the Storm

By Friedrich Spielhagen.

Translated by S. E. A. H. Stephenson.

Table of Contents

1. Titlepage
2. Imprint
3. Book I
   1. I
   2. II
   3. III
   4. IV
   5. V
   6. VI
   7. VII
   8. VIII
   9. IX
   10. X
   11. XI
   12. XII
4. Book II
   1. I
   2. II
   3. III
   4. IV
   5. V
   6. VI
   7. VII
   8. VIII
   9. IX
   10. X
   11. XI
   12. XII
   13. XIII
   14. XIV
   15. XV
5. Book III
   1. I
   2. II
   3. III
   4. IV
   5. V
   6. VI
   7. VII
   8. VIII
   9. IX
   10. X
   11. XI
   12. XII
   13. XIII
6. Book IV
   1. I
   2. II
   3. III
   4. IV
   5. V
   6. VI
   7. VII
   8. VIII
   9. IX
   10. X
   11. XI
   12. XII
   13. XIII
7. Book V
   1. I
   2. II
   3. III
   4. IV
   5. V
   6. VI
8. Book VI
   1. I
   2. II
   3. III
   4. IV
   5. V
   6. VI
   7. VII
   8. VIII
   9. IX
   10. X
   11. XI
   12. XII
   13. XIII
   14. XIV
   15. XV
9. Endnotes
10. Colophon
11. Uncopyright

Imprint

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Book I

I

The weather had grown worse towards evening. The groups of navvies on their way to the new railroad at Sundin cowered closer together between the piled-up barrels, casks, and chests on the foredeck, while the passengers had almost disappeared from the poop. Two elderly gentlemen who had been talking a good deal together during the journey now stood on the starboard side, looking at the island round which the steamer had to pass to the southwest, and whose level shores, sweeping in broad curves towards the promontory, appeared every moment more distinctly.

“So that is Warnow?”

“No. I beg your pardon, President⁠—that is Ahlbeck, a fishing village, which is, however, on the Warnow estates. Warnow itself lies farther inland. You can just see the church tower over the edge of the dunes.”

The President dropped the eyeglass with which he had vainly searched for the tower.

“You have sharp eyes, General, and are quick at finding out your bearings!”

“I have only been there once, it is true,” answered the General; “but since then I have had only too much cause for studying this line of coast on the map.”

The President smiled.

“Yes, yes; it is classical ground,” said he; “it has been long fought over⁠—long and vainly.”

“And I am convinced that it was right that the struggle should be in vain: at least, that it should have only a negative result,” said the General.

“I am not sure that it will not be taken up again,” answered the President. “Count Golm and Co. have been making immense efforts lately.”

“After you have so clearly proved that it is impossible that the railway should pay?”

“And you that the harbour would be useless!”

“Pardon me, President, the decision was not left to me: or, to speak more correctly, I declined to make it. The only place in the least suitable for the harbour would be just there, in the southernmost corner of the bay, protected by Wissow Head⁠—that is to say, on the Warnow property. It is true that I am only a trustee for my sister’s estates⁠—”

“I know, I know,” interrupted the President; “old-fashioned Prussian honesty, which becomes over-scrupulous sometimes. Count Golm and Co. are less scrupulous.”

“So much the worse for them,” said the General.

The two gentlemen turned and went up to a young girl, who was sitting in a sheltered place under the lee of the deck cabin, and passing the time as best she could, partly in reading, partly in drawing in a little album.

“You would like to remain on deck, I suppose, Elsa?” said the General.

“Are you both going into the cabin?” answered the girl, looking up from her book. “I think it is horrible down below; but it certainly is too chilly here for you, President.”

“It really is excessively chilly,” answered the President, turning up the collar of his overcoat, and casting a glance at the sky; “I think we shall have rain before sunset even now. You really should come with us, do not you think so, General?”

“Elsa is weatherproof,” answered the General, smiling. “But you might put a shawl or something round you. Shall I fetch you anything?”

“Thank you, papa! I have everything I can possibly want here,” said Elsa, pointing to her bundle of plaids and rugs; “I will cover myself up if it is necessary. Au revoir!”

She bowed gracefully to the President, gave her father a loving look and took up her book again, while the two gentlemen turned into the narrow passage between the cabin and the bulwarks.

She read for a few minutes, then looked up again