The Benefactress
Copyright© 2024 by Elizabeth Von Arnim
Chapter 26
Looking up from her breakfast the morning after the fire to see who it was riding down the street, Frau Manske beheld Dellwig coming towards her garden gate. Her husband was in his dressing-gown and slippers, a costume he affected early in the day, and they were taking their coffee this fine weather at a table in their roomy porch. There was, therefore, no possibility of hiding the dressing-gown, nor yet the fact that her cap was not as fresh as a cap on which the great Dellwig’s eyes were to rest, should be. She knew that Dellwig was not a star of the first magnitude like Herr von Lohm, but he was a very magnificent specimen of those of the second order, and she thought him much more imposing than Axel, whose quiet ways she had never understood. Dellwig snubbed her so systematically and so brutally that she could not but respect and admire him: she was one of those women who enjoy kissing the rod. In a great flutter she hurried to the gate to open it for him, receiving in return neither thanks nor greeting. “Good-morning, good-morning,” she said, bowing repeatedly. “A fine morning, Herr Dellwig.”
“Where’s Klutz?” he asked curtly, neither getting off his horse nor taking off his hat.
“Oh, the poor young man, Herr Dellwig!” she began with uplifted hands. “He has had a letter from home, and is much upset. His father——”
“Where is he?”
“His father? In bed, and not expected to——”
“Where’s Klutz, I say—young Klutz? Herr Manske, just step down here a minute—good-morning. I want to see your vicar.”
“My vicar has had bad news from home, and is gone.”
“Gone?”
“This very morning. Poor fellow, his aged father——”
“I don’t care a curse for his aged father. What train?”
“The half-past nine train. He went in the post-cart at seven.”
Dellwig jerked his horse round, and without a word rode away in the direction of Stralsund. “I’ll catch him yet,” he thought, and rode as hard as he could.
“What can he want with the vicar?” wondered Frau Manske.
“A rough manner, but I doubt not a good heart,” said her husband, sighing; and he folded his flapping dressing-gown pensively about his legs.
Klutz was on the platform waiting for the Berlin train, due in five minutes, when Dellwig came up behind and laid a hand on his shoulder.
“What! Are you going to jump out of your skin?” Dellwig inquired with a burst of laughter.
Klutz stared at him speechlessly after that first start, waiting for what would follow. His face was ghastly.
“Father so bad, eh?” said Dellwig heartily. “Nerves all gone, what? Well, it’s enough to make a boy look pale to have his father on his last——”
“What do you want?” whispered Klutz with pale lips. Several persons who knew Dellwig were on the platform, and were staring.
“Why,” said Dellwig, sinking his voice a little, “you have heard of the fire—I did not see you helping, by the way? You were with Herr von Lohm last night—don’t look so frightened, man—if I did not know about your father I’d think there was something on your mind. I only want to ask you—there is a strange rumour going about——”
“I am going home—home, do you hear?” said Klutz wildly.
“Certainly you are. No one wants to stop you. Who do you think they say set fire to the stables?”
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