The Eternal Adam and other stories (26 page)

‘As you will, master; the experiment,
however, seems to me conclusive, and I think it time to -’

‘To -’

‘To close the valve. ‘

‘You’d better!’ cried Doctor Ox. ‘If you
attempt it. I’ll throttle you!’

in which it is
once more proved that by taking high ground all human littleness may be
overlooked

‘You say?’ asked the Burgomaster Van
Tricasse of the Counsellor Niklausse.

‘I say that this war is necessary,’ replied
Niklausse, firmly, ‘and that the time has come to avenge this insult. ‘

‘Well, I repeat to you,’ replied the
burgomaster, tartly, ‘that if the people of Quiquendone do not profit by this
occasion to vindicate their rights, they will be unworthy of their name. ‘

‘And as for me, I maintain that we ought,
without delay, to collect our forces and lead them to the front. ‘

‘Really, monsieur, really!’ replied Van
Tricasse. ‘And do you speak thus to
me?’

‘To yourself, Monsieur the burgomaster; and
you shall hear the truth, unwelcome as it may be. ‘

‘And you shall hear it yourself, counsellor,’
returned Van Tricasse in a passion, ‘for it will come better from my mouth than
from yours! Yes, monsieur, yes, any delay would be dishonourable. The town of
Quiquendone has waited 900 years for the moment to take its revenge, and
whatever you may say, whether it pleases you or not, we shall march upon the
enemy. ‘

‘Ah, you take it thus!’ replied Niklausse
harshly. ‘Very well, monsieur, we will march without you, if it does not please
you to go. ‘

‘A burgomaster’s place is in the front
rank, monsieur!’

‘And that of a counsellor also, monsieur. ‘

‘You insult me by thwarting all my wishes,’
cried the burgomaster, whose fists seemed likely to hit out before long.

‘And you insult me equally by doubting my
patriotism,’ cried Niklausse, who was equally ready for a tussle.

‘I tell you, monsieur, that the army of
Quiquendone shall be put in motion within two days!’

‘And I repeat to you, monsieur, that
forty-eight hours shall not pass before we shall have marched upon the enemy!’

It is easy to see, from this fragment of
conversation, that the two speakers supported exactly the same idea. Both
wished for hostilities; but as their excitement disposed them to altercation,
Niklausse would not listen to Van Tricasse, nor Van Tricasse to Niklausse. Had
they been of contrary opinions on this grave question, had the burgomaster
favoured war and the counsellor insisted on peace, the quarrel would not have
been more violent. These two old friends gazed fiercely at each other. By the
quickened beating of their hearts, their red faces, their contracted pupils,
the trembling of their muscles, their harsh voices, it might be conjectured
that they were ready to come to blows.

But the striking of a large clock happily
checked the adversaries at the moment when they seemed on the point of
assaulting each other.

‘At last the hour has come!’ cried the
burgomaster.

‘What hour?’ asked the counsellor.

‘The hour to go to the belfry tower. ‘

‘It is true, and whether it pleases you or
not, I shall go, monsieur. ‘

‘And I too. ‘

‘Let us go!’

‘Let us go!’

It might have been supposed from these last
words that a collision had occurred, and that the adversaries were proceeding
to a duel; but it was not so. It had been agreed that the burgomaster and the
counsellor, as the two principal dignitaries of the town, should repair to the
Town Hall, and there show themselves on the high tower which overlooked
Quiquendone; that they should examine the surrounding country, so as to make
the best strategic plan for the advance of their troops.

Though they were in accord on this subject,
they did not cease to quarrel bitterly as they went. Their loud voices were
heard resounding in the streets; but all the passers-by were now accustomed to
this; the exasperation of the dignitaries seemed quite natural, and no one took
notice of it. Under the circumstances, a calm man would have been regarded as a
monster.

The burgomaster and the counsellor, having
reached the porch of the belfry, were in a paroxysm of fury. They were no
longer red, but pale. This terrible discussion, though they had the same idea,
had produced internal spasms, and every one knows that paleness shows that
anger has reached its last limits.

At the foot of the narrow tower staircase
there was a real explosion. Who should go up first? Who should first creep up
the winding steps? Truth compels us to say that there was a tussle, and that
the Counsellor Niklausse, forgetful of all that he owed to his superior, to the
supreme magistrate of the town, pushed Van Tricasse violently back, and dashed
up the staircase first.

Both ascended, denouncing and raging at
each other at every step. It was to be feared that a terrible climax would
occur on the summit of the tower, which rose 357 feet above the pavement.

The two enemies soon got out of breath,
however, and in a little while, at the eightieth step, they began to move up
heavily, breathing loud and short.

Then – was it because of their being out of
breath? – their wrath subsided, or at least only betrayed itself by a
succession of unseemly epithets. They became silent, and, strange to say, it
seemed as if their excitement diminished as they ascended higher above the
town. A sort of lull took place in their minds. Their brains became cooler, and
simmered down like a coffee-pot when taken away from the fire. Why?

We cannot answer this ‘why’; but the truth
is that, having reached a certain landing-stage, 266 feet above ground, the two
adversaries sat down and, really more calm, looked at each other without any
anger in their faces.

‘How high it is!’ said the burgomaster,
passing his handkerchief over his rubicund face.

‘Very high!’ returned the counsellor, ‘Do
you know that we have gone fourteen feet higher than the Church of Saint
Michael at Hamburg?’

‘I know it,’ replied the Burgomaster, in a
tone of vanity very pardonable in the chief magistrate of Quiquendone.

The two notabilities soon resumed their
ascent, casting curious glances through the loopholes pierced in the tower
walls. The burgomaster had taken the head of the procession, without any remark
on the part of the counsellor. It even happened that at about the 304th step,
Van Tricasse being completely tired out, Niklausse kindly pushed him from
behind. The burgomaster offered no resistance to this, and, when he reached the
platform of the tower, said graciously, —

Thanks, Niklausse; I will do the same for
you one day. ‘

A little while before it had been two wild
beasts, ready to tear each other to pieces, who had presented themselves at the
foot of the tower; it was now two friends who reached its summit.

The weather was superb. It was the month of
May. The sun had absorbed all the vapours. What a pure and limpid atmosphere!
The most minute objects over a broad space might be discerned. The walls of
Virgamen, glistening in their whiteness, – its red, pointed roofs, its belfries
shining in the sunlight – appeared a few miles off. And this was the town that
was foredoomed to all the horrors of fire and pillage!

The burgomaster and the counsellor sat down
beside each other on a small stone bench, like two worthy people whose souls
were in close sympathy. As they recovered breath, they looked around; then,
after a brief silence, —

‘How fine this is!’ cried the burgomaster.

‘Yes, it is admirable!’ replied the
counsellor. ‘Does it not seem to you. my good Van Tricasse, that humanity is
destined to dwell rather at such heights, than to crawl about on the surface of
our globe?’

‘I agree with you, honest Niklausse,’ returned
the burgomaster, ‘I agree with you. You seize sentiment better when you get
clear of nature. You breathe it in every sense! It is at such heights that
philosophers should be formed, and that sages should live, above the miseries
of this world!’

‘Shall we go around the platform?’ asked
the counsellor.

‘Let us go around the platform,’ replied
the burgomaster.

And the two friends, arm in arm, and
putting, as formerly, long pauses between their questions and answers, examined
every point of the horizon.

‘It is at least seventeen years since I
have ascended the belfry tower,’ said Van Tricasse.

‘I do not think I ever came up before,’ replied
Niklausse; ‘and I regret it, for the view from this height is sublime! Do you
see, my friend, the pretty stream of the Vaar, as it winds among the trees?’

‘And, beyond, the heights of Saint
Hermandad! How gracefully they shut in the horizon! Observe that border of
green trees, which Nature has so picturesquely arranged! Ah, Nature, Nature,
Niklausse! Could the hand of man ever hope to rival her?’

‘It is enchanting, my excellent friend,’ replied
the counsellor. ‘See the flocks and herds lying in the verdant pastures, – the
oxen, the cows, the sheep!’

‘And the labourers going to the fields! You
would say they were Arcadian shepherds; they only want a bagpipe!’

‘And over all this fertile country the
beautiful blue sky, which no vapour dims! Ah, Niklausse, one might become a
poet here! I do not understand why Saint Simeon Stylites was not one of the
greatest poets of the world. ‘

‘It was because, perhaps, his column was
not high enough,’ replied the counsellor, with a gentle smile.

At this moment the chimes of Quiquendone
rang out. The clear bells played one of their most melodious airs. The two
friends listened in ecstasy.

Then in his calm voice, Van Tricasse said, —

‘But what, friend Niklausse, did we come to
the top of this tower to do?’

‘In fact,’ replied the counsellor, ‘we have
permitted ourselves to be carried away by our reveries -’

‘What did we come here to do?’ repeated the
burgomaster.

‘We came,’ said Niklausse, ‘to breathe this
pure air, which human weaknesses have not corrupted. ‘

‘Well, shall we descend, friend Niklausse?’

‘Let us descend, friend Van Tricasse. ‘

They gave a parting glance at the splendid
panorama which was spread before their eyes; then the burgomaster passed down
first, and began to descend with a slow and measured pace. The counsellor
followed a few steps behind. They reached the landing-stage at which they had
stopped on ascending. Already their cheeks began to redden. They tarried a
moment, then resumed their descent.

In a few moments Van Tricasse begged
Niklausse to go more slowly, as he felt him on his heels, and it ‘worried him’.
It even did more than worry him; for twenty steps lower down he ordered the
counsellor to stop, that he might get on some distance ahead.

The counsellor replied that he did not wish
to remain with his leg in the air to await the good pleasure of the
burgomaster, and kept on.

Van Tricasse retorted with a rude
expression.

The counsellor responded by an insulting
allusion to the burgomaster’s age, destined as he was, by his family
traditions, to marry a second time.

The burgomaster went down twenty steps
more, and warned Niklausse that this should not pass thus.

Niklausse replied that, at all events, he
would pass down first; and, the space being very narrow, the two dignitaries
came into collision, and found themselves in utter darkness. The words
‘blockhead’ and ‘booby’ were the mildest which they now applied to each other.

‘We shall see, stupid beast!’ cried the
burgomaster, – ‘we shall see what figure you will make in this war, and in what
rank you will march!’

‘In the rank that precedes yours, you silly
old fool!’ replied Niklausse.

Then there were other cries, and it seemed
as if bodies were rolling over each other. What was going on? Why were these
dispositions so quickly changed? Why were the gentle sheep of the tower’s
summit metamorphosed into tigers 200 feet below it?

However this might be, the guardian of the
tower, hearing the noise, opened the door, just at the moment when the two
adversaries, bruised, and with protruding eyes, were in the act of tearing each
other’s hair, – fortunately they wore wigs.

‘You shall give me satisfaction for this!’
cried the burgomaster, shaking his fist under his adversary’s nose.

‘Whenever you please!’ growled the
Counsellor Niklausse, attempting to respond with a vigorous kick.

The guardian, who was himself in a passion,
– I cannot say why, – thought the scene a very natural one. I know not what
excitement urged him to take part in it, but he controlled himself, and went
off to announce throughout the neighbourhood that a hostile meeting was about
to take place between the Burgomaster Van Tricasse and the Counsellor
Niklausse.