The Breaking of the Storm, Vol II.

Excerpt

Philip had whispered to Reinhold that he would look him up presently; Reinhold trembled for the result of a meeting between father and son, which could not have occurred at a more unfortunate moment; but it could not be helped, and he determined to employ the interval in saying a few words of comfort, after the scene that had just taken place, to the old clerk whom he had spoken to several times during the last few days, and had learnt to look upon as certainly a peculiar but an excellent and upright man. He found the old man in the little arbour at the end of the narrow walk, between the garden and the building, in the upper story of which he and Anders lived. He was sitting quite broken down on the bench, while Cilli, who was with him, wiped the drops of perspiration from his brow. She recognised Reinhold's step at once, and said, as he entered the arbour:

"Thank God that you have come, sir! You were present. How did Herr Schmidt take my father's confession? From what my father says, I conclude very badly."

"On the contrary, Fraulein Cilli, my uncle is of opinion that between two such old friends as himself and your father, a merely theoretic difference is of no consequence."

"But if it should not stop at theory," exclaimed the old man, "if the practical consequences are carried out by everybody--"

"But not by you, my dear Herr Kreisel! Answer me one question: would you take advantage of any crisis in business to force from your employer an increase of salary?"

"Never!" exclaimed the old man, "never!"

"You see for yourself! Though you may be perfectly right in theory, between it and practice there lies, in the minds of educated people like yourself, a long and rough road, into which you will never enter, or on which, after the first few steps, you will stand still in horror."

"Ah! yes, my nerves!" murmured the old man; "my nerves are not strong enough for it. I am worn out; I believe he is right after all; an hour's sleep would do me good." He was persuaded by Reinhold and Cilli to go into the house; Reinhold went a little way with him; when he returned to the arbour, Cilli was sitting with her hands before her, and such an expression of deep sorrow and trouble on her pure, gentle face, that it went to Reinhold's heart.

"Dear little Cilli," said Reinhold, sitting down by her and taking her hands in his "do not be so anxious. I give you my word that my uncle does not dream of parting with your father; matters remain between them exactly as before."

"Not exactly," answered Cilli, shaking her head; "since Thursday my father has been quite changed. He has scarcely eaten or slept; and this morning, quite early, he came to my bedside and said that he had no longer any doubts, that he also was a Socialist, and he must tell Herr Schmidt. That was quite right, as we ought always to tell the truth, even in this case, when your uncle will not allow any Socialists on his works. And although, as you tell me, and I believed before, your uncle will make an exception in favour of my father, because he is old and feeble, my father is proud, and will not endure to be merely tolerated, all the more that he is undoubtedly in the right."

"How, my dear Cilli?" asked Reinhold, astonished. "Your father is in the right?"

"Certainly he is," answered Cilli warmly; "is it not wrong that even one man should suffer when others can prevent it? Did not Christ tell us to feed the hungry, to give drink to the thirsty, to clothe the naked, to comfort the oppressed and heavy-laden? And if Christ had not commanded it, does not every good man's heart command it?"

"In that case, my dear Cilli, all good men must be Socialists, and even I myself may lay claim to the title; but between the love of our neighbours, as you describe it, and Socialism as these people desire it, there is a wide difference."

"I see none," said Cilli. Reinhold looked at the sightless eyes upraised with an expression of gentle enthusiasm....