Secret for a Nightingale (28 page)

“Some are born nurses,” she told us.

“Some acquire the necessary skills. You are in the former class.” It was the biggest accolade she could bestow, and if she were anxious about a patient she would often put me in charge of that particular one. I was greatly encouraged and threw myself into the work and was happy to be there.

I often wondered about Henrietta. I think at times she felt less enchanted. But she could see I was in my element and she was glad of that.

“I feel half dead,” she said to me one day when we sat stretched out before the lake.

“But I remind myself that it is all in a good cause.

It has to be endured because it is all part of the great goal. It is going to lead us to the Demon King. “

That was what she called the man I had determined to find. She would invent stories of his wickedness; she sketched how he would look. A picture emerged dark, heavy-udded, brooding eyes, black hair and a wicked, satanic expression.

One afternoon, when we both had a free hour, as we sat by the lake’s edge, a slim figure emerged from the trees. It was Gerda the Goosegirl.

My German had improved considerably since my coming to Kaiserwald, for that language was spoken all the time apart from the occasional remarks addressed to us by the Head Deaconess and the one who had met us when we arrived; and even Henrietta, who had less than I, was able to converse, albeit rather haltingly.

I said “Hello’ to Gerda and then: ” Where are your geese? “

“All taken care of,” she replied.

“So I can be by myself now.”

She came and stood close to us, smiling to herself as though she found us rather amusing.

“You’re English ladies,” she said.

“And you’re a little German girl.”

“I am a lady, too.”

“I am sure you are.”

“I walk in the forest. Do you walk in the forest?”

“We don’t have a great deal of time for walking. But it must be lovely in the forest, to walk under the trees.”

She stepped near to us.

“The trees come alive at night,” she said. She had a strong faraway look in her eyes as though she saw something which was hidden from us.

“There are trolls … They live on the hills.”

“Have you seen them?” asked Henrietta.

She nodded.

“They pull at your dress. They try to catch you. You must never look into their eyes. If you do, they will catch you.”

“You have never looked into a troll’s eyes, then?” I said.

She lifted her shoulders and giggled.

“Have you seen the Devil?” she asked. She called him Der Teufel.

“No. Have you?”

She started to laugh and shrugged her shoulders.

I said: “You live with your grandmother, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“In a little house on the edge of the woods?”

She nodded again.

“And you look after the geese and the chickens … and what else have you?”

“A cow. Two goats.”

“They must keep you busy.”

She nodded.

“It was in the forest. It was the Devil.”

“Oh … did you meet him?”

“He liked me.”

She started to giggle again.

Henrietta yawned but I was interested in this strange girl and I wondered what went on in her hazy mind.

Henrietta had risen.

“Look at the time. We’ll be late.”

I said: “Goodbye, Gerda.”

“Goodbye,” she said and stood staring after us as we went.

“Strange girl,” I said.

“Certainly something missing in the upper storey,” said Henrietta

“I wonder what she meant about the Devil?”

“About the trolls?”

“I suppose she hears these things and fancies a good deal. She is really very pretty so dainty, and that beautiful hair. What a pity she is mentally deficient. Well, she can look after the geese. She’s capable of that. And she seemed happy enough … quite proud of her encounter with the Devil. I’d like to know more about her. I’d like to meet the grandmother. Perhaps we could call on her … but one is never quite sure whether one is doing the right thing.”

“There is hardly time for social calls in this life here.”

“Henrietta,” I said, ‘are you finding it too difficult? Would you like to go home? “

“Of course not. If you can endure it, so can I.”

“But it is different for me. I want something important to devote myself to utterly, and I fancy I’ve always wanted to do this without really knowing I did.”

“I’m sticking it out until the three months is up. I haven’t forgotten what it’s all about, you know. Gerda enjoys her encounters with the Devil. I’m determined to do the same.”

Whenever I had an hour to spare I would wander out. Once or twice I saw Gerda with her geese; she gave me that faraway smile when she saw me and when she had her charges with her she did not speak much. It was as though she could not do two things at once.

The geese would hiss at us and she would calm them. They were very unfriendly creatures.

The weather was getting wintry and it was too cold to sit about. We had to take brisk walks. There was to be a fair in the town, which was about a mile and a half away, and there was a small increase in the

number of people we saw on our walks. It was a misty afternoon when we first saw Klaus the Pedlar. He had a can and a donkey; and the cart was laden with all sorts of wares.

He called out a cheery Guten Tag, to which we replied in friendly fashion.

“Ladies from the Kaiserwald,” he said.

“English ladies. Them as we’ve heard so much about. Now I wouldn’t have guessed, seeing you.” His eyes were on Henrietta.

“You don’t look the part. Meet Klaus the Pedlar. Anyone will tell you who I am. Pay regular calls, I do … and this is Fair time. A time for good business. What have I got in my pack? Something to interest you ladies … combs and fairings and rings for your ears … lovely silks to make you a gown … neck lets and powders to make the men love you. You want it ask Pedlar Klaus for it. If he don’t have it this time, he’ll bring it to you next.”

He talked at a great rate and there were some of his words which I could not catch, but it was easy to get the gist of his conversation.

He was quite handsome in a gipsy way. He was very dark, with flashing eyes, and he wore rings in his ears. He had a jaunty manner and gave the impression that he was proud and independent and cared for no one.

He regarded us with some amusement, wondering, no doubt, what had made us come to Kaiserwald. I think it was probably our youth as much as our foreignness which made us outstanding.

“Anything you want, ladies,” he went on.

“You ask old Klaus the Pedlar, and he’ll bring it to you. A nice piece of silk … a length of velvet and some beads to match your eyes … blue for the one and green for the other. I can match up both of them.”

“Thank you,” said Henrietta.

“But we don’t get much chance of wearing such things here.”

He wagged a finger at us.

“Always make time for your fun, ladies.

Don’t work all the time. It’s not natural. There’s fun to be had in life and them that don’t take it when it’s there for ‘em will find it flies away and don’t come back. Now a nice piece of silk for a flighty gown . green to show off that

tawny hair of yours. That don’t grow on the head of every maiden you know. You want to do the best for it. “

I said: “We’ll think about it.”

“Don’t take too long thinking or Klaus the Pedlar will be gone.”

“But he’ll be back I don’t doubt.”

“He’ll be back. But don’t forget, the sun rises, the sun sets, and that’s another day gone … and each day brings even beautiful ladies that much nearer to old age.”

“You have reminded us of the flight of time, and we have little to spare. We must go back.”

“Quite a fascinating man,” said Henrietta as we walked away.

“He is certainly not at a loss for words,” I replied.

It was a chilly day for we were at the end of November. A blustering wind was chasing clouds across a grey sky. Henrietta and I had an hour off duty in the afternoon and on such days we liked to walk in the forest. I loved the smell of the pines and suddenly to hear the tinkle of cow bells carried to us on the wind. I had always felt that there was an enchantment about the forest. I was not surprised that Gerda had her fancies.

We passed her cottage; she was in the garden crooning to herself. We called a greeting but she did not seem to be aware of us. It was often like that with Gerda. We went on and after some ten minutes it started to rain. Through the trees I could see the black clouds. Instead of welcoming us, the forest had become dark and menacing. The trees seemed to take on odd shapes; and the wind was like moaning human voices. When I mentioned this to Henrietta she laughed at me.

“For such a sensible, practical person you have some odd fancies sometimes,” she said.

“Hurry,” I warned her.

“The rain will be pelting down in a minute. I doubt we shall get back before it does.”

We ran through the pines and by the time we came to the clearing in which was Gerda’s home the rain was teeming down.

The door of the cottage opened and a woman appeared. I had seen her once before and knew that she was Gerda’s grandmother.

She called out: “You young ladies will be soaked to the skin. Come along in. It will pass soon. It is only a shower.”

I was pleased to be invited into the cottage, for I was very interested in its occupants. Frau Leiben was, I guessed, in her late fifties, yet she was sprightly and her cottage was very clean.

“It is good of you to offer us shelter,” I said.

“It’s the least I can do. Do please sit down.” We did so and she went on: “We’re all very grateful to you ladies of Kaiserwald. You do great good. And you are English … come to study our ways?”

I told her that we had come for three or four months and then we should go home.

She said: “People come from time to time.”

“Where is Gerda?” I asked.

“Can she be out in the rain?”

“She’ll stand up somewhere. She’s got that much sense.” She shook her head sadly.

“She is a beautiful girl,” I commented.

“She looks so picturesque with her geese. If I were an artist I would paint a picture of her.”

Frau Leiben sighed.

“I worry about her. What will become of her when I am gone? I ask myself. Who will care for her? If she were like others she would marry and have a husband to look after her. Perhaps her mother will come for her.”

We were silent for a few moments, then she went on: “She was five when my daughter and her husband left her with me. I thought they would come back but they never have. They are far away in Australia.” She looked very sad.

“Herman, my husband, was here with me when they went away. And now Herman is gone. The blessed Deaconesses did what they could for him but they could not save his life and now I am alone. For three years I am alone.”

“The people here are friendly with each other,” said Henrietta.

“It must be comforting to live in a place like this.”

She nodded.

“It’s true. They were good to me when Herman died. I didn’t feel the burden so much when he was here. There were two of us to share it.”

She looked at us as though she wondered whether she v talking too much. After all, we were comparative strangers had always had an insatiable curiosity about other peopi lives; they seemed to sense this and confide in me. A suddenly the story came out. She and Herman had hac daughter, Clara. They had doted on her. She had looked li Gerda except that she was bright and intelligent. They I wanted the best for her. She had gone to stay with a cousin Hamburg and when she was there met Fritz and rnarr him.

“She never really came back,” said Frau Leiben.

“Just to;

us . that was all. It wasn’t her home any more. And could see that she was happy that way. Of course, we rejoi< for her but suffered for ourselves. When Gerda was born were so happy . and she turned out as she is. They did want her really . at least Fritz didn’t. She wasn’t a non child and she was an encumbrance. They brought her he They used to come now and then to see her and us. Then Fi came out of the Navy and they went to Australia. They did want Gerda with them.

Herman was alive then. He Im Gerda dearly. They used to go into the forest together. ” had more cows then. He used to tell her stories, all the i legends about the gods and heroes… all the stories of drag and trolls in the mountains. Herman had them all at fingertips and a way of telling them. She’d listen for hou entranced. It was easy when Herman was there, and then died. It was his lungs. He coughed and coughed and it bn your heart to hear him. They took him into Kaiserwald, a then he died and I was alone.”

“How very sad,” said Henrietta.

“Gerda is a very happy girl,” I added.

“Oh, she lives in her dream world, living all the std Herman used to tell her. I remember our last Christinas w Herman. We brought in the tree and dressed it with all i little bits and pieces, candles to make it bright. It will soon time for the tree. Old Wilhelm, the woodcutter, brings on me. I dress it. Gerda likes that. But it is a

sad rime with Herman.” S I noticed that the rain had stopped and that we should have to hurry back if we were not to be late.

I said: “It has been very interesting talking to you’ Frau Leiben. I hope your daughter will come to see you soon;

Australia is a long way to come. “

As we hurried back, I said to Henrietta: “What a sad aory! Poor Gerda.

Poor Frau Leiben. “

“I don’t think Gerda feels the sadness,” said Henrietta, “It’s one of the compensations of being as she is. I don’t think she feels things at all. She doesn’t miss her mother. She doesn’t fret about being abandoned.”

“We don’t know what goes on in Gerda’s mind. I hope they get a nice fir tree. That’s a German custom, to have a tree and dress it up.

We’re doing it more and more at home since Prince Albert married the Queen. “

“The Queen’s mother started it before that,” said Henrietta.

“I wonder what is done at Kaiserwald?”

“Nothing, I should imagine. Just a few more hymns and prayers.”