the love of ulrich nebendahl-第1节

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THE　LOVE　OF　ULRICH　NEBENDAHL
By　JEROME　K。　JEROME










Perhaps　of　all；　it　troubled　most　the　Herr　Pfarrer。　　Was　he　not　the
father　of　the　village？　　And　as　such　did　it　not　fall　to　him　to　see　his
children　marry　well　and　suitably？　marry　in　any　case。　　It　was　the　duty
of　every　worthy　citizen　to　keep　alive　throughout　the　ages　the　sacred
hearth　fire；　to　rear　up　sturdy　lads　and　honest　lassies　that　would
serve　God；　and　the　Fatherland。　　A　true　son　of　Saxon　soil　was　the　Herr
Pastor　Winckelmannkindly；　simple；　sentimental。

〃Why；　at　your　age；　Ulrichat　your　age；〃　repeated　the　Herr　Pastor；
setting　down　his　beer　and　wiping　with　the　back　of　his　hand　his　large
uneven　lips；　〃I　was　the　father　of　a　familytwo　boys　and　a　girl。　　You
never　saw　her；　Ulrich；　so　sweet；　so　good。　　We　called　her　Maria。〃　　The
Herr　Pfarrer　sighed　and　hid　his　broad　red　face　behind　the　raised　cover
of　his　pewter　pot。

〃They　must　be　good　fun　in　a　house；　the　little　ones；〃　commented　Ulrich；
gazing　upward　with　his　dreamy　eyes　at　the　wreath　of　smoke　ascending
from　his　long…stemmed　pipe。　　〃The　little　ones；　always　my　heart　goes
out　to　them。〃

〃Take　to　yourself　a　wife；〃　urged　the　Herr　Pfarrer。　　〃It　is　your　duty。
The　good　God　has　given　to　you　ample　means。　　It　is　not　right　that　you
should　lead　this　lonely　life。　　Bachelors　make　old　maids；　things　of　no
use。〃

〃That　is　so；〃　Ulrich　agreed。　　〃I　have　often　said　the　same　unto　myself。
It　would　be　pleasant　to　feel　one　was　not　working　merely　for　oneself。〃

〃Elsa；　now；〃　went　on　the　Herr　Pfarrer；　〃she　is　a　good　child；　pious　and
economical。　　The　price　of　such　is　above　rubies。〃

Ulrich〃s　face　lightened　with　a　pleasant　smile。　　〃Aye；　Elsa　is　a　good
girl；〃　he　answered。　　〃Her　little　handshave　you　ever　noticed　them；
Herr　Pastorso　soft　and　dimpled。〃

The　Pfarrer　pushed　aside　his　empty　pot　and　leaned　his　elbows　on　the
table。

〃I　thinkI　do　not　thinkshe　would　say　no。　　Her　mother；　I　have　reason
to　believe　　Let　me　sound　themdiscreetly。〃　　The　old　pastor's　red
face　glowed　redder；　yet　with　pleasurable　anticipation；　he　was　a　born
matchmaker。

But　Ulrich　the　wheelwright　shuffled　in　his　chair　uneasily。

〃A　little　longer；〃　he　pleaded。　　〃Let　me　think　it　over。　　A　man　should
not　marry　without　first　being　sure　he　loves。　　Things　might　happen。　　It
would　not　be　fair　to　the　maiden。〃

The　Herr　Pfarrer　stretched　his　hand　across　the　table　and　laid　it　upon
Ulrich's　arm。

〃It　is　Hedwig；　twice　you　walked　home　with　her　last　week。〃

〃It　is　a　lonesome　way　for　a　timid　maiden；　and　there　is　the　stream　to
cross；〃　explained　the　wheelwright。

For　a　moment　the　Herr　Pastor's　face　had　clouded；　but　now　it　cleared
again。

〃Well；　well；　why　not？　　Elsa　would　have　been　better　in　some　respects；
but　Hedwigah；　yes；　she；　too；　is　a　good　girl　a　little　wild
perhapsit　will　wear　off。　　Have　you　spoken　with　her？〃

〃Not　yet。〃

〃But　you　will？〃

Again　there　fell　that　troubled　look　into　those　dreamy　eyes。　　This　time
it　was　Ulrich　who；　laying　aside　his　pipe；　rested　his　great　arms　upon
the　wooden　table。

〃Now；　how　does　a　man　know　when　he　is　in　love？〃　asked　Ulrich　of　the
Pastor　who；　having　been　married　twice；　should　surely　be　experienced
upon　the　point。　　〃How　should　he　be　sure　that　it　is　this　woman　and　no
other　to　whom　his　heart　has　gone　out？〃

A　commonplace…looking　man　was　the　Herr　Pastor；　short　and　fat　and　bald。
But　there　had　been　other　days；　and　these　had　left　to　him　a　voice　that
still　was　young；　and　the　evening　twilight　screening　the　seared　face；
Ulrich　heard　but　the　pastor's　voice；　which　was　the　voice　of　a　boy。

〃She　will　be　dearer　to　you　than　yourself。　　Thinking　of　her；　all　else
will　be　as　nothing。　　For　her　you　would　lay　down　your　life。〃

They　sat　in　silence　for　a　while；　for　the　fat　little　Herr　Pfarrer　was
dreaming　of　the　past；　and　long；　lanky　Ulrich　Nebendahl；　the
wheelwright；　of　the　future。

That　evening；　as　chance　would　have　it；　Ulrich　returning　to　his
homesteada　rambling　mill　beside　the　river；　where　he　dwelt　alone　with
ancient　Annamet　Elsa　of　the　dimpled　hands　upon　the　bridge　that
spans　the　murmuring　Muhlde；　and　talked　a　while　with　her；　and　said
good…night。

How　sweet　it　had　been　to　watch　her　ox…like　eyes　shyly　seeking　his；　to
press　her　dimpled　hand　and　feel　his　own　great　strength。　　Surely　he
loved　her　better　than　he　did　himself。　　There　could　be　no　doubt　of　it。
He　pictured　her　in　trouble；　in　danger　from　the　savage　soldiery　that
came　and　went　like　evil　shadows　through　these　pleasant　Saxon　valleys；
leaving　death　and　misery　behind　them：　　burnt　homesteads；　wild…eyed
women；　hiding　their　faces　from　the　light。　　Would　he　not　for　her　sake
give　his　life？

So　it　was　made　clear　to　him　that　little　Elsa　was　his　love。

Until　next　morning；　when；　raising　his　eyes　from　the　whirling　saw；
there　stood　before　him　Margot；　laughing。　　Margot；　mischief…loving；
wayward；　that　would　ever　be　to　him　the　baby　he　had　played　with；
nursed；　and　comforted。　　Margot　weary！　　Had　he　not　a　thousand　times
carried　her　sleeping　in　his　arms。　　Margot　in　danger！　　At　the　mere
thought　his　face　flushed　an　angry　scarlet。

All　that　afternoon　Ulrich　communed　with　himself；　tried　to　understand
himself；　and　could　not。　　For　Elsa　and　Margot　and　Hedwig　were　not　the
only　ones　by　a　long　way。　　What　girl　in　the　village　did　he　not　love；　if
it　came　to　that：　　Liesel；　who　worked　so　hard　and　lived　so　poorly；
bullied　by　her　cross…grained　granddam。　　Susanna；　plain　and　a　little
crotchety；　who　had　never　had　a　sweetheart　to　coax　the　thin　lips　into
smiles。　　The　little　onesfor　so　they　seemed　to　long；　lanky　Ulrich；
with　their　pleasant　waysUlrich　smiled　as　he　thought　of　themhow
should　a　man　love　one　more　than　another？

The　Herr　Pfarrer　shook　his　head　and　sighed。

〃That　is　not　love。　　Gott　in　Himmel！　think　what　it　would　lead　to？　　The
good　God　never　would　have　arranged　things　so。　　You　love　one；　she　is
the　only　woman　in　the　world　for　you。〃

〃But　you；　yourself；　Herr　Pastor；　you　have　twice　been　married；〃
suggested　the　puzzled　wheelwright。

〃But　one　at　a　time；　Ulrichone　at　a　time。　　That　is　a　very　different
thing。〃

Why　should　it　not　come　to　him；　alone　among　men？　　Surely　it　was　a
beautiful　thing；　this　love；　a　thing　worthy　of　a　man；　without　which　a
man　was　but　a　useless　devourer　of　food；　cumbering　the　earth。

So　Ulrich　pondered；　pausing　from　his　work　one　drowsy　summer's
afternoon；　listening　to　the　low　song　of　the　waters。　　How　well　he　knew
the　winding　Muhlde's　merry　voice。　　He　had　worked　beside　it；　played
beside　it　all　his　life。　　Often　he　would　sit　and　talk　to　it　as　to　an
old　friend；　reading　answers　in　its　changing　tones。

Trudchen；　seeing　him　idle；　pushed　her　cold　nose　into　his　hand。
Trudchen　just　now　was　feeling　clever　and　important。　　Was　she　not　the
mother　of　the　five　most　wonderful　puppies　in　all　Saxony？　　They　swarmed
about　his　legs；　pressing　him　with　their　little　foolish　heads。　　Ulrich
stooped　and　picked　up　one　in　each　big　hand。　　But　this　causing　jealousy
and　heartburning；　laughing；　he　lay　down　upon　a　log。　　Then　the　whole
five　stormed　over　him；　biting　his　hair；　trampling　with　their　clumsy
paws　upon　his　face；　till　suddenly　they　raced　off　in　a　body　to　attack　a
floating　feather。　　Ulrich　sat　up　and　watched　them；　the　little　rogues；
the　little　foolish；　helpless　things；　that　called　for　so　much　care。　　A
mother　thrush　twittered　above　his　head。　　Ulrich　rose　and　creeping　on
tiptoe；　peeped　into　the　nest。　　But　the　mother　bird；　casting　one　glance
towards　him；　went　on　with　her　work。　　Whoever　was　afraid　of　Ulrich　the
wheelwright！　　The　tiny　murmuring　insects　buzzed　to　and　fro　about　his
feet。　　An　old　man；　passing　to　his　evening　rest；　gave　him　〃good…day。〃
A　zephyr　whispered　something　to　the　leaves；　at　which　they　laughed；
then　passed　upon　his　way。　　Here　and　there　a　shadow　crept　out　from　its
hiding…place。

〃If　only　I　could　marry　the　whole　village！〃　laughed　Ulrich　to　himself。

But　that；　of　course；　is　nonsense！

The　spring　that　followed　let　loose　the　dogs　of　war　again　upon　the
blood…stained　land；　for　now　all　Germany；　taught　late　by　common
suffering　forgetfulness　of　local　rivalries；　was　rushing　together　in　a
mighty　wave　that　would　sweep　French　feet　for　ever　from　their　hold　on
German　soil。　　Ulrich；　for　whom　the　love　of　woman　seemed　not；　would　at
least　be　the　lover　of　his　country。　　He；　too；　would　march　among　those
brave　stern　hearts　that；　stealing　like　a　thousand　rivulets　from　every
German　valley；　were　flowing　north　and　west　to　join　the　Prussian
eagles。

But　even　love　of　country　seemed　denied　to　Ulrich　of　the　dreamy　eyes。
His　wheelwright's　business　had　called　him　to　a　town　far　off。　　He　had
been　walking　all　the　day。　　Towards　evening；　passing　the　outskirts　of　a
wood；　a　feeble　cry　for　help；　sounding　from　the　shadows；　fell　upon　his
ear。　　Ulrich　paused；　and　again　from　the　sombre　wood　crept　that　weary
cry　of　pain。　　Ulrich　ran　and　came　at　last　to　where；　among　the　wild
flowers　and　the　grass；　lay　prone　five　human　figures。　　Two　of　them　were
of　the　German　Landwehr；　the　other　three　Frenchmen　in　the　hated　uniform
of　Napoleon's　famous　scouts。　　It　had　been　some　unimportant　〃affair　of
outposts；〃　one　of　those　common　incidents　of　warfare　that　are　never
recordednever　remembered　save　here　and　there　by　some　sad　face
unnoticed　in　the　crowd。　　F