This seafaring adventure story was adapted from the German. It is also known as The Disobedient Son and tells the story of a boy who runs away to sea.
By : William S. Martin
|
The Stranger—The Castle—The Captain's Soliloquy—The Pastor—The Invitation.
"I travelled among unknown men,
In lands beyond the sea;
Nor did I know, sweet home, till then,
What love I bore to thee.
"'Tis past, that melancholy dream!
Nor will I quit thy shore
A second time; for still I seem
To love thee more and more.
—WORDSWORTH.
Towards the close of a beautiful day in autumn, the last rays of the setting sun were gilding the tops of the mountains, which overhang the picturesque valley of Bergstrasse, along which winds the road from Heidelberg to Frankfort. The heavily laden country carts and waggons were toiling slowly along the dusty highway, both horses and drivers looking hot and tired, and both, no doubt, very glad that they had nearly reached the end of their day's journey; while every now and then a horseman, or a carriage with ladies and gentlemen inside, dashed rapidly along, and soon left the more heavily loaded vehicles far behind. What a striking picture of human life and the great journey we all are taking—some of us struggling wearily, and oftentimes painfully, but always, let us trust, hopefully, under a heavy load, and others trotting merrily along their course, happy, and apparently at least free from care. Who shall say which of the two shall reach the end most safely!
While the broad high-road presented this animated scene, the steep rocky footpath cut in the side of the mountain, and leading up to the old ruined castle of Aurburg on its summit, was almost deserted; not quite deserted, though; for, toiling up the steep ascent was an old man, who, in spite of the help afforded him by his stout bamboo cane, looked very tired as he went slowly along. He was rather a strange-looking old man, respectably dressed, and with a pleasant-looking face; but his clothes and general appearance were different from those of the people commonly seen about there, and his bronzed, weather-beaten features showed him to be, if not a foreigner, one who had evidently been for some time in a foreign country. Indeed, the little boy who passed him on his way down to the valley with his goats, and the little girl going home with her bundle of sticks for the fire, seemed half afraid of him as they bade him good-night, and even when he had gone by, they turned round to look at him as he went on up the mountain-side.
In spite of his evident weariness, the stranger kept bravely on; and just as the sun was disappearing behind a long range of mountains in the west, he reached the ruins of the old castle, of which only one tower and a few walls were then standing. Here he sat down to rest himself on a large heap of stones which had long since fallen from the walls of the castle, and were now all overgrown with lichens and ferns, and seemed for some moments lost in thought. His eyes wandered over the rich landscape which lay spread out beneath his feet; then, giving vent to the emotions which filled his heart, he exclaimed: "Yes, this is the old place again, and after forty years' absence I have at last returned to take one more look at these mountains and forests which I remember so well. There, too, far away down the valley, glides the beautiful river, along whose banks I so often wandered when I was a boy. Ah, it is a true saying, 'There is no place like home!' And yet, after all, our real home is not in this world, but in heaven. There are all who were dear to me, and there I trust soon to meet them again; but now I am left alone—alone in the world! What a change a few short years have made!"
The old man sat silent for a few minutes, and then in a voice full of emotion began singing part of a beautiful English hymn which touchingly expresses the instability of all human affairs:—
"Change and decay on all around I see:
O Thou that changest not, abide with me."
While he was singing, two children, hearing him, came close up behind him, and when he had finished began to cough in order to attract his attention. For some time he took no notice, but at last he turned, and saw two nicely-dressed children, a little boy and girl, who wished him good evening and made a bow. He was about to speak to them, when their father, who had also heard him singing, came up, and supposing him to be an Englishman, said to him in English, "Although, sir, we are strangers, it is true, those beautiful words you were singing, which I am sure come from your heart, prove to me that we both look up to one common Father in heaven. I am the pastor of the little village you can see down there, at the foot of the mountain. But it is growing dark, and if, as I presume, you are a stranger in these parts, I can gladly offer you the simple accommodation of my cottage for the night."
The stranger answered in German: "Your kind invitation is very welcome, sir. An old sea-captain like me is not much in the habit of paying compliments; I can only say I gladly accept your hospitality."
Guided by the last glimmer of twilight, they took their way at once towards the peaceful village, the steeple of which was just peeping up above the trees. On their way the captain told the pastor that he bad only arrived at the neighbouring village of Aurbach that afternoon. "But," said he, "I could not rest, tired as I was with my day's travelling, until I had been up here to look at the old castle, which I have not seen for forty years."
Comments
Post a Comment