The Lightstep (19 page)

On an evening in early October, Lady Adelsheim stood in
black in the house in the Saint Emil quarter. 'So, sir,' she
cried. 'His Highness now supposes that he might be a general
himself. Is it true?'

The gaunt Knight von Uhnen, a member of the War
Commission and Colonel-Inspector of Militia, bowed and kissed
her hand. 'It is true that he pays more attention to the army than
is generally realized,' he said.

'Then I declare I am mad,' said Lady Adelsheim. 'For one of us
must be, and I am sure that it could not be His Highness.'

'Ha, ha, my Lady,' said the Knight, and presented the young
man beside him. 'You know my son, of course.'

'Of course. Why, Karl, how handsome you look tonight. How
very dashing.'

Instead of his hussar uniform, Karl von Uhnen was wearing a
suit of a modern French cut, in buff and blue. His hair was
unpowdered and tied in a queue. It was a calculated, casual look,
as if he were still in the country rather than on the fringes of the
court. With his clothes and youth he stood out sharply among
the small array of embroidered gentlemen in their wigs and silk
breeches who posed for the attention of the ladies in the room.

'Oh, this fashion is very well, very well,' the older Uhnen said.
'Not a creature under fifty will wear anything else, I hear. But for
that reason I am exempt, you see.' With another bow he made his
way past her into the high and gilded drawing room where the
Knight August von Adelsheim, arrayed in his majestic velvet
doublet and decked out in his great wig, had been placed on a
settee near the fire.

Maria sat beside her father. She kept her hand on his arm to
remind him that she was there with him, and also that he was
where he was supposed to be and should not start wandering
around while the guests gathered. She saw the Knight von Uhnen
approach. Beyond him yet more faces were appearing in the
doorway – Baron von und zu Löhm, and a friend, she thought.

'My dear August,' said the Knight von Uhnen. 'It is good to
see you in health.'

He bowed his head as he spoke. He had wealth, wit, influence
– many things that Father had not. Like Father, Uhnen had
'immediacy': he had no lord but the Emperor himself. But Father
had the sixteen quarterings on his coat of arms, and so the
Knight's tone bestowed the respect that was due. Father mumbled
something in reply. He gave the Knight his hand, but did not look
up.

The Knight peered down at his host, waiting to see if there
would be some further acknowledgement. When there was not,
he said, 'My dear,' to Maria, bending briefly over her hand, and
passed on with the glassy smile of a man who had escaped without
embarrassment from the company of the exalted but
unfortunate Adelsheim.

'. . . Now, cousin,' cried Lady Adelsheim at the door. 'You owe
me your wig, sir. Where is it?'

His Excellency the Canon Rother-Konisrat was a tall man,
with the face and figure of a plump crane. He wore soft pinks and
greys, and bowed low to his female cousin as if he were not, after
all, one of the most important men in Erzberg.

'Pardon me, dear Constanze,' he said mildly. 'But for the time
being I believe I still have a use for it.'

'No, sir, this I will not have! This man,' she said, addressing a
wider group, 'having failed to obtain for me a passport for my
Frenchman, staked his wig that I could do no better. And lo!
With a flick of my fingers, it is done. Now I shall have his wig for
my wall too.'

'It has come, has it?'

'It was in my hands at noon today. Your wig, sir, or you shall
be a knave.'

'If you will permit it to me to cover my embarrassment
tonight,' said the Canon with another bow, 'I shall send it to you
in the morning.'

Anna Poppenstahl was sitting by herself against the wall, 'with
a drawn look on her face. Anyone who saw her, thought Maria,
would know at once that it had taken something more than a
flick of Mother's fingers to have the passport delivered anonymously
to their door. (Why had she ever allowed poor Anna to
be involved in this?) But no one seemed to notice. Mother was
convinced that, whatever Anna and Maria had done, and whoever
they had gone to, the precious passport had come entirely
because she herself had said that it should. And her conviction
was so strong that it carried the room – Canon Rother included.
They fawned on her in her triumph.

'The master-stroke was to find the Frenchman at all,' said the
Baron von und zu Löhm. 'Who would have thought it possible?'

'Baron, you know I have looked for understanding all my life.
And it is to be found in the most unexpected places. It was
obvious to me that lies were being told about Hersheim. To
confront lies, you need witnesses. I simply asked myself, if all
our
officers were suborned, where else might a witness be found?
And now he will come to Erzberg, whatever His Highness's
creatures think.'

'You have routed them all, my Lady.'

'I knew that I would.'

'I am agog to see him,' said the Knight von Uhnen, rejoining
the central group. 'A genuine revolutionary! Is it true that he
addressed you as "Citizen", my Lady? Will he parade up the Saint
Simeon in a liberty cap and bare feet, do you think?'

'I judge him to be as gallant a gentleman as his station allows,'
said Lady Adelsheim. 'And that when we are more acquainted
with him we will all see how great a folly this war has been.'

'Indeed, indeed,' murmured the gallant gentlemen in the
room, every one of whom, Maria thought, had fled like startled
pigeons each time Captain Lanard and his comrades had marched
east from the Rhine.

Karl von Uhnen managed to prise himself free from two of
the ladies, who had been quizzing him on his dress, and made his
way over to Maria's settee.

'I am delighted to see you, sir,' he said, taking Father's hand. 'I
hope it is well with you.'

Father said something indistinct, but again he did not look up.
Maria spied a dribble from his mouth cutting a track through the
powder on his chin. She leaned across and patted it dry with a
handkerchief, trying to disguise the damage.

'Lady Maria?' said Karl von Uhnen to her, with a slight bow.

'Of course,' she said, and gave him her hand.

He settled himself on a stool on her other side.

There was the slightest awkwardness in his manner. Apart from
greetings exchanged in passing, and his formal condolences for
Albrecht's death, they had barely spoken in a year. The memory
of that awful scene in the orangery at Effenpanz still lingered
between them.
'Sir, you force me to remind you of certain facts . . .'

Nevertheless she had been hoping that he would come, and
not only because he could be pleasant company when circumstances
were right. There was a further reason why she needed
him this evening.

'I admire your suit, sir,' she said, falling into the light, teasing
tones of mannered conversation. 'Did you don it to attract some
poor woman's attention?'

'If I must be a rebel, I shall be one in my own way. But really,
it is very comfortable. I think I shall dispense with this queue, and
let my hair fall to the collar like a true revolutionary.'

'You should! You would be a sensation. And it will give the
town something to talk about, other than sickening itself with
war and politics.'

'Indeed. Although I suspect this company has stomach to
sicken itself some more.' He was looking around the room.
Löhm, Jenz-Hohenwitz, Machting-Altstein-Borckstein – almost
every notable present was identified with the peace party in
Erzberg. There was not one senior officer, not one escapee from
the occupied territories, nor was there anyone remotely
connected with the Ingolstadt set. Two groups had formed, one
speaking in low voices around Canon Rother, a few feet away.
Another surrounded Mother on the far side of the room.

'Kant?' exclaimed Mother. 'I am
most
disappointed. A man
with many gifts, but his perceptions are too narrow. No, sir. I have
read his writings eagerly, following like a disciple wherever he
led. I have declared his critiques to be genius. I have even tutored
my own daughter in them. And then what? I find he would discourage
the interest of women in things of the mind! It is base
treachery, sir, and you cannot defend him!'

'On the contrary,' cried a jovial voice. 'I shall now defend him
with my life!'

'What, sir? This, in my house?'

'My Lady. If we men are not to have the exclusive advantage
of education, however would we remain
your
equal?'

'Aha! Ha-ha!' cried other men around the pair.

'. . . Erzberg to suffer as Frankfurt and Mainz suffered,' Canon
Rother was saying. 'Bombardment! Can you imagine? Only
perhaps for us it would be worse.'

'It
must
be avoided.' said someone else. 'It is madness to put
one spoiled godchild above the wellbeing of a city . . .'

Karl von Uhnen bent to whisper in her ear. 'A very distinct
gathering,' he breathed. 'I wonder that even we were included.'

'I believe my mother feels you are kindred spirits, or should be.'

He shrugged. 'Maybe, maybe not. Father is a strange old dog.
I don't think he'll sit up to beg for anyone. I had thought we were
to hear music, not talk politics.'

'You shall certainly hear music, sir. Mother has obtained a new
quartet by Haydn, which Meister Holz and his fellows will
perform for us after dinner.'

'But this is excellent! A new Haydn, did you say?'

'I understand it has not been performed in Erzberg before this.

However, I am sure there will be politics too. I believe Löhm in particular
has some notions he wishes to introduce to the gentlemen.'

'Oh Merciful Muses!'

'. . . Let me enter the lists on education,' cried Baron Löhm.
'Atque inter silvas Academi quaerere verum.
Education, I hold, should
promote virtue over vice everywhere. It must be our goal to
replace the politics of self-interest and self-advancement with
Education. And there is no better education than the personal
instruction of those who are themselves men of virtue. I say
"men" of virtue, my Lady,' he added, bowing. 'But for example
only. Of course the same could be achieved among women, if any
could be found to follow your lead. And maybe you have already
begun, with your daughter and others?'

'Quite, Baron,' said Mother dryly. 'But perhaps this is the
moment for you to introduce your guest more widely.'

'Gentlemen – and ladies,' said the Baron. 'This is Doctor
Heinrich Sorge, who is secretary of the "Heribert" Reading Club
in Nuremberg. He is a man of great understanding. I have had the
benefit of a long correspondence with him over the years, and I
know of no better mind in Germany – save yours, my Lady,' he
added as an afterthought.

Doctor Sorge was a small man, almost a twin of the Baron for
height. But whereas the Baron, in his white wig and dark
embroidered velvet, looked almost as round as he was tall, Sorge
was thin in face and mouth and body. His suit was plain brown,
such as a merchant or university professor might wear to Holy
Mass on a Sunday. He shifted a little and pursed his lips while all
the company stared at him.

'Doctor Sorge has come to educate us,' said Lady Adelsheim.
'He has a very special understanding of worldly government.'

'My Lady,' said Sorge, in clipped tones. 'I did explain to the
Baron that the size of the company would limit what I might be
able to reveal . . .'

'Of course. But you should have no fear of us. Dietrich – the
doors.'

The house servants flung open the double doors that led into
the next room. Chairs were arranged in a rough circle before the
hearth there.

'If the gentlemen would follow me,' said Canon Rother.

Every man in the room, except for Maria's father and the
younger Uhnen, trooped through. Maria noticed that Doctor
Sorge hung to the rear of the group, and she was close enough to
hear him say to the Baron, 'It would be better if the servants are
not admitted.'

'As well part cripples from their sticks,' murmured the Baron.
'But this house is safe, do not worry.'

'Who was that curious fellow?' said Karl von Uhnen, who had
kept his seat despite the invitation.

'A doctor from Nuremberg, I believe,' said Maria offhandedly.
She had her own guesses about the sort of man that
Löhm might wish to introduce to his friends. The Baron was
notorious for his dabblings in freemasonry and other such
societies. But she knew, too, that in Erzberg it was best not to let
the tongue wag too much about such things. 'I expect he has
some very wise ideas to propose. Will you not join them?'

'I don't think I shall,' said Karl von Uhnen, after a show of
indecision. 'It's certain to be dull. What was that about cripples
indeed? Hasn't Löhm as many servants as any of us?'

'His heart may lean after his words,' said Maria with a smile.
'But indeed it is far ahead of his habits. Now you must forgive
me.'

She rose to her feet, for now she was hostess to those who
remained.

Three women were left in the room – wives who had accompanied
their husbands to the gathering. Maria approached and
respectfully suggested a table of cards.

'Why,' cried the Lady Jenz-Hohenwitz, looking sharply
around. 'Is Lady Adelsheim not to be with us?'

'She will return in a very short time, I am sure,' said Maria,
with the most charming smile she could contrive. Of course
Mother had slipped out to join the men in their discussions, and
would neither rejoin the ladies nor care what they thought of it.

'Well! I think it is very bad of her!'

'Oh come, my dear,' said Lady Machting-Altstein-Borckstein,
sallying to the rescue. 'We all know our dear Constanze. Let us
not embarrass the poor girl. Cards would be very pleasant, I
believe.'