On the Night of the Seventh Moon

He leaned towards me.

“Would you care to? It could be arranged.”

“I am happy with the present arrangement.”

“Your cool English airs delight me. You behave as though I am a customer in the-er bookshop, was it?”

“Our encounter is not dissimilar. I have to sell my services as a teacher; you as my employer are buying them.”

“Ours is a more lengthy transaction, surely.”

“You would be surprised how many customers come back and back again in book shops “I think you and I are going to be on closer terms. What do you think?

Or haven’t you thought about it yet? “

“I do not have to think very long. I know that our respective positions and characters make a close acquaintance impossible.”

He was taken slightly aback and I felt the victory was mine, particularly as the gate clicked again and there stood Frau Graben smiling at us.

“I knew you were here,” she said.

“Miss Trant, Pastor Kratz wants to talk to you something about changing the time of tomorrow’s lesson. Fredy, I wanted a word with you.”

He frowned at her.

“Oh, you can frown, Herr Donner,” she said.

“You know I won’t have tantrums.”

As I hurried through the gate, I saw her fat smile as she prepared to do battle with the Count. I was reminded of Hildegarde, my guardian angel of the hunting lodge.

My thoughts were in a turmoil for the rest of the day. I knew the relentless obstinacy of men like Count Frederic. I could picture his riding through the countryside, selecting the women who took his fancy briefly. He had believed that I would be so overawed by his importance, so beguiled by his masculine charm, that I would be the next victim. If, in spite of my attitude he still believed he could overcome my resistance, he was mistaken.

More vividly than ever there came back to me that day when Maximilian had loomed out of the mist. Could it really have been that he had been such another as this man? I was now ten years older than that girl who had been so deeply impressed, who had fallen so much in love with the hero of the forest that she had never forgotten him, even though there were times when she feared he had been only another bold adventurer. Had I endowed him with the qualities of the heroes of his country’s legends? Was the picture I had treasured for so many years only one of my own painting?

If ten years ago the Count had shared that adventure, would I have believed him to possess those qualities with which I had endowed Maximilian.

When I went into the schoolroom after the Count had left there was a babble of excitement among the children. They were going hunting tomorrow with the Count.

“Who told you that?” I asked.

“The Count did,” said Dagobert.

“He is coming for us at nine o’clock.”

Dagobert’s eyes shone with excitement but I detected a trace of apprehension. Even he was afraid that he could not match up to his father’s expectations. As for Fritz, I could see that he was in a state of terror. I guessed that Fritz, after what had happened in the pavilion during the slaughter of the deer, would be expected, as his father would put it, to show his manhood. It wouldn’`t surprise me if this were not the purpose of the exercise. The child sensed this, I believed, and was very disturbed about it.

Liesel would not accompany them, of course. She was going to watch them ride off. There would be a party of them and they were going to hunt boar, the most dangerous creatures of the forest. Boars could be really vicious, Dagobert told me.

“My father likes hunting boar.”

“Say it in English, please, Dagobert,” I said automatically.

That night footsteps awakened me again. Stealthily they went past my door. This time I immediately thought of Fritz. I listened to which direction they were going. It was not to the turret-room this time.

Hastily I lighted my candle, put on my slippers and wrapped my dressing-gown about me. By the time I had done this I could no longer hear the footsteps. But I knew that they had descended the stairs. I went down the spiral staircase, through the narrow passages. A cold breeze sweeping into the fortress told me which door was open.

I hurried to it and I saw the small figure walking steadily towards the stables” I ran.

Fritz was at the stable door; he was trying to open it.

I caught him. The blank expression of the sleepwalker was on his face.

I took him gently by the hand and led him back to the fortress.

Although it was summer and the days warm, the temperature dropped considerably at night and his hand was icily cold. I led him carefully to his room. He was shivering; his feet were chilled; he wore nothing but his nightshirt. He was murmuring something: “No, please no.” And there was such fear in those words that I was sure I knew what was troubling him.

Tomorrow he was to go out hunting wild boar with his father: and he was afraid. That would explain why he had gone to the stables.

I felt a fury against this insensitive man who did not understand that he had a son who might well be brilliant. I had immediately assessed Fritz’s mental capacity; but because of this he was imaginative in a manner which men such as the Count could not understand.

I leaned over Fritz. I said: “It’s all right, Fritz.”

He opened his eyes.

He said: “Mutti

” Then, “Miss.

“Hello, Fritz. Yes, I’m here.”

“Did I walk?”

“A little.

He began to shiver.

I said: “It’s all right. Lots of people do it. I heard you and brought you back to bed.”

“You heard me last time. Dagobert heard them talking about it.”

“I’ve got a special pair of ears for you.”

That made him laugh.

“Tomorrow Fritz,” I said, ‘you’re not going to the hunt. “

“Did my father say ?”

“I said you’re not.”

“You can’t. Miss.”

“Oh yes, I can,” I said.

“Your feet are like ice. I’m going to put an extra blanket on. And tomorrow morning you’re to stay in bed. You’re a little chilled. And you won’t get up until it’s too late to go with the hunters.”

Can I, Miss? Who says . “

“I say,” I said firmly.

In some way I had won his confidence. He believed me. I stayed by his bed until he fell into a peaceful sleep, which was in a very short time.

Then I went back to my room and tried to sleep.

I must be ready for the battle which would surely come the next morning.

I watched the count and his party riding up to the schloss, and steeling myself, went down and out of the fortress to the Randhausburg. Dagobert was already there in his riding outfit.

As he was greeting his father, I slipped inside and waited in the Rittersaal. My battle with the Count must take place unobserved. I should never win if we had spectators because he was the sort of man who would never concede if observed.

He had seen me enter and, as I knew he would, he quickly followed me there.

“Good morning. Miss Trant,” he said.

“How gracious of you to come down to greet my party.”

“I did so because I wanted to speak to you about Fritz.”

“The boy, I suppose, is waiting to leave with us.”

“No, I have told him to stay in bed for the morning. He was chilled last night.”

He stared at me in astonishment.

“Chilled!” he cried.

“In bed! Miss Trant, what do you mean?”

“Exactly what I say. Last night Fritz walked in his sleep. I gather he does this when he is disturbed. He is a sensitive child, studious rather than athletic.”

“That seems to me all the more reason why he should take more physical exercise. Pray tell him to get up at once and that I am angry because he was not ready and eager to go to hunt the boar.”

“Would you have him pretend to feel something he doesn’`t?”