"Beg pardon," said he; "does the mistress belong to the wedding guests?"
"No, I am only a maid. I came with Farmer Rodel's daughter, Rose."
"Good! Then go out to the kitchen and tell the mistress that I sent you, and that you are to help her. We can't have hands enough in my house today."
"Because it's you I'll gladly go," said Amrei, and she set out at once. On the way she thought how Dominic himself had once been a servant, and"Yes, such things happen only once in a century. It cost him many a pang before he came to the farmand that's a pity."
Ameile, Dominic's wife, gave a friendly welcome to the new comer, who offered her services and at the same time took off her jacket, asking if she might borrow a large apron with a bib on it. But the farmer's wife insisted that Amrei should satisfy her own hunger and thirst before she set about serving others. Amrei consented without much ceremony, and won Ameile's heart by the first words she spoke; for she said:
"I will fall to at once, for I must confess that I am hungry, and I don't want to put you to the trouble of having to urge me."
Amrei now remained in the kitchen and handed the dishes to the waitresses in such a knowing way, and managed and arranged everything so well, that the mistress said:
"You two Amreis, you and my brother's daughter, can manage all this, and I will stay with the guests."
Amrei of Siebenhofen, who was nicknamed the "Butter Countess," and who was known far and wide as proud and stubborn, was very friendly with Barefoot. Once, indeed, the mistress said to the latter:
"It's a pity that you are not a boy; I believe that Amrei would marry you on the spot, and not send you home, as she does all of her suitors."
"I have a brother who's still singlebut he's in America," replied Barefoot, laughing.
"Let him stay there," said the Butter Countess; "it would be better if we could send all the men folk away and be here by ourselves."
Amrei did not leave the kitchen until everything had been put back in its proper place; and when she took off her apron it was still as white and unruffled as when she had put it on.
"You'll be tired and not able to dance," said the farmer's wife, when Amrei, with a present, finally took her leave.
"Why should I be tired? This was only play; and, believe me, I feel much better for having done something today. A whole day devoted to pleasure! I shouldn't know how to spend it, and I've no doubt that was why I felt so sad this morningI felt that something was missing. But now I feel quite ready for a holidayquite out of harness. Now I feel just like dancing, if I could only find partners."
Ameile did not know how to show greater honor to Barefoot than by leading her about the house, as if she were a wealthy farmer's wife, and showing her the large chest full of wedding presents in the bridal room. She opened the tall, blue cabinets, which had the name and the date painted upon them, and which were crammed full of linen and all sorts of things, all tied up with ribbons of various colors and decorated with artificial flowers. In the wardrobe there were at least thirty dresses, and nearby were the high beds, the cradle, the distaff with its beautiful spindles, and everywhere children's clothes were hanging, presents from the bride's former playmates.
"Oh, kind Heaven!" cried Barefoot; "how happy a child of such a house must be!"
"Are you envious?" said the farmer's wife; and then remembering that she was showing all these things to a poor girl, she added: "But believe me, fine clothes are not all; there are many happier who do not get as much as a stocking from their parents."
"Yes, yes, I know that. I am not envious of the beautiful things, but rather of the privilege that it gives your child to thank you and so many good people for the lovely things she has received from them. Such clothes from one's mother must keep one doubly warm."
The farmer's wife showed her fondness of Barefoot by accompanying the girl as far as the yard, as she would have done to a visitor who had eight horses in the stable.
There was already a great crowd of people assembled when Amrei arrived at the dancing-floor. At first she stood timidly on the threshold. In the empty courtyard, across which somebody hurried every now and then, a solitary gendarme was pacing up and down. When he saw Amrei coming along with a radiant face, he approached her and said:
"Good morning, Amrei! Art thou here too?"
Amrei started and turned quite pale. Had she done anything punishable? Had she gone into the stable with a naked light? She thought of her past life and could remember nothing; and yet he had addressed her as familiarly as if he had already arrested her once. With these thoughts flitting through her mind, she stood there trembling as if she were a criminal, and at last answered:
"Thank you. But I don't know why we should call each other 'thou.' Do you want anything of me?"
"Oh, how proud you are. You can answer me properly. I am not going to eat you up. Why are you so angry? Eh?"
"I am not angry, and I don't want to harm any one. I am only a foolish girl."
"Don't pretend to be so submissive"
"How do you know what I am?"
"Because you flourish about so with that light."
"What? Where? Where have I flourished about with a light? I always take a lantern when I go out to the stable, but"
The gendarme laughed and said: "I mean your brown eyesthat's where the light is. Your eyes are like two balls of fire."
"Then get out of my way, lest you get burnt. You might get blown up with all that powder in your cartridge-box."
"There's nothing in it," said the gendarme, embarrassed, but wishing to make some kind of retort. "But you have scorched me already."
"I don't see whereyou seem to be all right. But enough! Let me go."
"I'm not keeping you, you little crib-biter. You could lead a man a hard life, who was fond of you."
"Nobody need be fond of me," said Amrei; and she rushed away as if she had got loose from a chain.
She stood in the doorway where many spectators were crowded together. A new dance was just beginning, and she swayed back and forth with the music. The feeling that she had got the better of some one made her more cheerful than ever, and she would have taken up arms against the whole world, as well as against a single gendarme. But her tormentor soon appeared again; he posted himself behind Amrei and said all kinds of things to her. She made no answer and pretended not to hear him, every now and then nodding to the people as they danced by, as if she had been greeted by them. Only when the gendarme said:
"If I were allowed to marry, I'd take you."
She replied:
"Take me, indeed! But I shouldn't give myself!"
The gendarme was glad to have at least got an answer from her, and continued:
"And if I were allowed to dance, I would have one with you right now."
"I cannot dance," replied Amrei.
Just then the music ceased. Amrei pushed against the people in front of her, and made her way in to seek some retired corner. She heard some one behind her say:
"Why, she can dance better than anybody in this part of the country!"
CHAPTER X
ONLY A SINGLE DANCE
Down from the musicians' platform Crappy Zachy handed a glass to Amrei.
She took a sip, and handed it back; and Crappy Zachy said:
"If you dance, Amrei, I'll play all my instruments so that the angels will come down from the sky and join in."
"Yes, but unless an angel comes down from the sky and asks me, I shall not get a partner," said Amrei, half in fun and half in sorrow. And then she began to wonder why there had to be a gendarme at a dance; but she did not hold to this thought long, but immediately went on to say to herself: "After all, he is a man like anybody else, even though he has a sword on; and before he became a gendarme, he was a lad like the rest. It must be a plague for him that he can't dance. But what's that to me? I, too, am obliged to be a mere spectator, and I don't get any money for it."
"Yes, but unless an angel comes down from the sky and asks me, I shall not get a partner," said Amrei, half in fun and half in sorrow. And then she began to wonder why there had to be a gendarme at a dance; but she did not hold to this thought long, but immediately went on to say to herself: "After all, he is a man like anybody else, even though he has a sword on; and before he became a gendarme, he was a lad like the rest. It must be a plague for him that he can't dance. But what's that to me? I, too, am obliged to be a mere spectator, and I don't get any money for it."
For a short time things went on in a much more quiet and moderate manner in the dancing-room. For the "English woman," as Agy, the wife of Severin, the building contractor, was still called, had come to the dance with her children. The rich wood-merchants set the champagne corks to popping and offered a glass to the English woman; she drank the health of the young couple and then made each one happy by a gracious word. A constant and complacent smile was lighting up the face of everybody. Agy honored many a young fellow who drank to her from the garlanded glasses, by sipping from hers in return. The old women, who sat near Barefoot, were loud in their praises of the English woman, and stood up a long time before she came when they saw her approaching to speak a few words to them. When Agy had gone away, the rejoicing, singing, dancing, stamping, and shouting broke out again with renewed vigor.
Farmer Rodel's foreman now came toward Amrei, and she felt a thrill of expectation. But the foreman said:
"Here, Barefoot, take care of my pipe for me while I am dancing." And after that several young girls from her village also came; from one she received a jacket, from another a cap, or a neckerchief, or a door-key. She let them hand it all over to her, and stood there with an ever-increasing load as one dance followed another. All the time she smiled quietly to herself, but nobody came to ask her to dance. Now a waltz was being played, so smoothly that one could have swum to it. And then a wild and furious galop; hurrah! now they are all hopping and stamping and jumping and panting in supreme delight. And how their eyes glitter! The old women who are sitting in the corner where Amrei is standing, complain of the dust and heat; but still, they don't go home. Thensuddenly Amrei starts; her eyes are fixed upon a handsome young man who is walking proudly to and fro among the crowd. It is the rider who had met her that morning, and whom she had snubbed in such a pert way. All eyes are fastened upon him as he comes forward, his right hand behind him, and his left holding a silver-mounted pipe. His silver watch-chain bobs up and down, and how beautiful is his black velvet jacket, and his loose black velvet trousers, and his red waistcoat! But more beautiful still is his round head with its curly, brown hair. His brow is white as snow; but from the eyes down his face is sunburnt, and a light, full beard covers his chin and cheeks.
"That's a bonny fellow," said one of the old women.
"And what heavenly blue eyes he has!" added another; "they are at once so roguish and so kind."
"Where can he be from? He's not from this neighborhood," said a third.
And a fourth observed:
"I'll wager he's another suitor for Amrei."
Barefoot started. What did this mean? What was that she said? But she soon found out the meaning of it, for the first old lady resumed:
"Then I'm sorry for him; for the Butter Countess makes fools of all the men."
And so the Butter Countess's name was also Amrei.
The young stranger had passed through the room several times, turning his eyes from one side to the other. Then he suddenly stopped not far from Barefoot and beckoned to her. A hot flush overspread her face; she stood riveted to the spot and did not move a muscle. No, he certainly beckoned to somebody behind you; he cannot mean you. The stranger pressed forward and Amrei made way for him. He must be looking for some one else.
"No, it's you I want," said the lad, taking Barefoot's hand. "Will you dance?"
Amrei could not speak. But what need was there to speak? She threw everything she had in her arms down into a cornerjackets, neckerchiefs, caps, pipes, and door-keysand stood there ready. The lad threw a dollar up to the musicians; and when Crappy Zachy saw Amrei on the arm of the stranger, he blew his trumpet until the very walls trembled. And to the blessed souls above no music can sound more beautiful than did this to Amrei. She danced she knew not how; she felt as if she were being carried in the stranger's arms, as if she were floating in the air, and there seemed to be no one else there. And, indeed, they both danced so well, that everybody involuntarily stopped to look at them.
"We are alone," said Amrei during the dance; and then she felt the warm breath of her partner as he answered:
"Oh that we were alonealone in the world! Why cannot one go on dancing thuson and on to the end of time."
"I feel," said Amrei, "just as if we were two doves flying through the air. Juhu! away into the heavens!" And "Juhu!" cried the lad gleefully, "Juhu!" And the sound shot up heavenward like a fiery rocket. "Juhu!" cried Amrei, rejoicing with him. And on they danced with ever-increasing joy. Finally Amrei said:
"Tell meis the music going on? Are the musicians still playing? I don't hear them any more."
"Of course they are still playing. Don't you hear them?"
"Yes, now I do," said Amrei. And now they stopped, for her partner probably felt that she was becoming giddy with happiness.
The stranger led Amrei to the table, and gave her wine to drink, and did not let go her hand. He lifted the Swedish ducat that hung from her necklace, and said:
"This ducat is in a good place."
"And it came from a good hand," answered Amrei. "That necklace was given to me when I was a little child."
"By a relative?"
"No, the lady was no relative."
"Dancing agrees with you apparently."
"Oh, indeed it does! You see, I'm obliged to jump around so much all the year around when nobody is playing for meand therefore I enjoy it doubly now."
"You look as round as a ball," said the stranger in jest. "You must live where the food is good."
Amrei replied quickly:
"It's not the food itself that does it, but the way one enjoys it."
The stranger nodded; and after a pause, he spoke again, half questioningly:
"You are the daughter of Farmer"
"No, I am a maid," replied Amrei, looking him full in the face. The stranger's eyes almost fell; the lids quivered, but he held them open by force. And this struggle and victory of the bodily eye seemed to be a symbol of what was going on within him. He felt almost inclined to leave the girl sitting there; but he resisted and conquered the impulse, and said:
"Come, let us have another dance."
He held her hand fast, and the pleasure and excitement began again; but this time it was more quiet and moderate. Both of them seemed to feel that the sensation of being lifted to the sky was over and past; and this thought was evidently in Amrei's mind when she said:
"Well, we have been very happy together once, even if we don't see each other again in all our lives, and even though neither of us knows the other's name."
The youth nodded and said:
"You are right."
Amrei held the end of her braid between her lips in embarrassment, and after a pause spoke again:
"The enjoyment one has once had cannot be taken from one; and whoever you are, you need never repent of having given a poor girl a pleasure she will remember all her life."
"I don't repent of it," replied her partner. "But I know that you repent of having answered me so sharply this morning."