Chapter 3 third chapter

Mark was waiting for me at the dock, his arms outstretched, and we hugged. "Henry... Dear Henry," he kept calling, with a flowing voice, moist eyes, and a happy smile on his face. "Dear Mark," I said, "let me hug you one more time! You're taking me to your place? . . . " "Yes...to the apartment...to the Temeswar apartment, just on Prince Miloch Street, it only takes 10 minutes...but first I want to introduce you to my future brother-in-law." At first, I didn't notice an officer standing behind Mark.He wears the rank of captain and wears the uniform of the frontier infantry. He can't be more than 28 years old.His demeanor has typical Magyar pride and aristocratic temperament, but his eyes are friendly, and there is a smile on his mouth, which gives people a good impression at a glance.

"Captain Haralan Rotelich." Mark introduced. I took Captain Haralan's extended hand. "Monsieur Vidal," he said to me, "it is a pleasure to meet you, you do not know how eagerly everyone is looking forward to your presence, and what joy your presence will bring to my family..." "Miss Mira included? . . . " I asked. "Never mind!" exclaimed my brother. "My dear Henry, it is not her fault if the Matthias Govin does not make ten miles an hour after you set off!" It should be pointed out that Captain Haralan, like his parents and sister, can speak fluent French, and their whole family has traveled to France.Besides, Mark and I both understood German with a slightly Hungarian flavor, and from that day on, and in the days to come, we were free to converse in as many different languages ​​as we wanted, sometimes even mixing them.

A car with my luggage.Captain Haralan, Mark and I got into the car.A few minutes later, the car stopped in front of Temeswar's apartment. I was scheduled to make my first visit to the Rothlichs the next day.My brother and I were left alone in the cozy room Mark had prepared for me, next door to the room where my brother had always lived in Raz. We talked until dinner time. "Dear Marc, you understand...my wedding will be without you...by my side...and, shouldn't I ask your permission..." "My permission?" "Yes...it's like asking your father for permission!...But whether it's him or you, as long as you know Mira, you will definitely not refuse this marriage..."

"She's glamorous?" "You'll see her, and then, judge for yourself, you'll like her! . . . This is the best sister I've ever given you..." "I accept this sister, dear Mark, and I have known for a long time that your choice is very satisfactory. But why don't you call on Dr. Rothlich tonight? . . . " "No... let's wait until tomorrow... We didn't expect the boat to arrive so early... We thought it would be at night. Haralan and I just went to the pier just in case, and we happened to bump into each other. The barge has just landed. Oh! How sorry Myra dear would be if she knew!... But I repeat, you'll have to wait until tomorrow... Mrs. Rothlich and her daughter have other plans for tonight . . . they have gone to church, and to-morrow they will beg your pardon . . . "

"It's a deal, Mark," I replied, "since we have a few more hours today to chat, talk about the past, the future, and the many things that have happened in the year we've been apart!" Marc tells of his journey since leaving Paris, the successes he has achieved wherever he goes, how the art worlds of Vienna and Pressburg opened their doors to him and welcomed him warmly.In short, all this, he had written to me before.All the rich people in Austria and Magyar rushed to buy the portraits signed by Marc Vidal! "My dear Henry, I really cannot satisfy every request, not even at a high price! What can I do! An honest bourgeois in Pressburg said it well: Marc Vidal paints better than Naturally, it’s more realistic!” My younger brother joked again, “Maybe one day the director of the exhibition will hijack me to make portraits of Austrian kings, queens, princes and ministers.”

"Be careful, Mark, be careful! If you accept the invitation of the palace now and leave Raz City, you will get into trouble..." "I would respectfully decline their invitation, my friend! Now is not the time to think about portraits... To be precise, I have just finished my last painting..." "Is it hers?" "Yes, it's her portrait. It's probably not the worst I've ever done..." "Ugh! Who knew?" I exclaimed. "When a painter is fascinated by his model, he often neglects the portrait itself!" "Come...Henry...just wait and see!...I repeat, more realistic than natural!...that seems to be my style...yes...when dear Meera poses for me to paint, I I can't take my eyes off her!...but she's serious!...Those few hours are dedicated to the painter, not to the fiancé!...my brush is free on the canvas...I feel like painting The middle man seemed to come to life like a statue of Galadete..."

"Don't get excited! Pygmalion, don't get excited, tell me. How did you meet the Rothlichs?" "I have already said so in my letter." "Of course, but I want to hear you say it again..." "When I first arrived in Raz, several salons invited me solemnly. It was a pleasure to attend such gatherings, because the nights tend to be very long for wanderers in foreign lands. I often went to the salons and was warmly welcomed. Reception. It was in the salon that I met Captain Haralan again..." "Meet again?" I asked puzzled. "Yes, Henry. I've met him several times in Perth. He's brilliant, he's promising, he's amiable, and in 1849 he would have been famous and a hero..."

"It's just that he was unfortunately born in this era!" I laughed and teased. "You're right," Mark said with a smile, too. "We see each other every day in Raz anyway, and since he's home for a month's leave, we've grown closer and become really close friends. He wants to introduce me to To his family, which I gladly accepted, especially since I have seen Mademoiselle Mira at several receptions, and if--" "Oh!" I said, "the younger sister is not inferior to the elder brother, so you run to the Rothlichs all the more diligently..."

"Yes . . . Henry, I have been going every night for six weeks! From now on, when I speak of my dear Meera, you may think I exaggerate . . . " "Oh no, my friend, no! You're not exaggerating, and I don't even think you can exaggerate when you're talking about her..." "Oh, dear Henry, how I love her! . . . " "Obviously, besides, I am also very glad that you can enter a famous family..." "Yes, the most prestigious family," Mark replied, "Dr. Rothlich's medical skills are superb, his reputation is outstanding, and his colleagues praise him! ... He is also a kind and kind person, worthy of the... ..."

"His daughter's father," I continued, "is as worthy as Madame Rötlich's mother." "Mrs. Rothlich! A fine woman," exclaimed Mark. "She is devout, kind, charitable, and the whole family loves her." "Henry, we are not in France, we are in Hungary, a country of the Magyars. The folk customs here still retain the simplicity of the past, and there is still a patriarchal system in the family." "Oh, future head of the family—one day, you'll be the head of the family." "The social status and value of this profession is not low!" Mark said.

"Yes, you are comparable to Matty Salem, Noah, Abraham, Yitzhak, and Jacob. Forget it, your love history, in my opinion, is nothing earth-shattering. Because of Captain Haralan's introduction, you got to know his family...they treated you with great hospitality, and as far as I know you, it's reasonable!...When you saw Miss Mira, you were greeted gracefully by her Fascinated by her figure, her beautiful face, her kind nature..." "You're right, brother." "The sublime quality is to the fiancé, and the beauty is to the painter. The former is engraved in the heart, and the latter is stored on the canvas!... How do I say it?..." "Pompous, but accurate, my dear Henry!" "Your evaluation is just right. Let me say it again. Just as Mark Vidal was obsessed with Miss Mira's appearance when she saw her, Miss Mira Rotelich's heart fell in love with Mark Vidal as soon as she saw her." Move for him." "I didn't say that, Henry!" "That's what I said, just respecting the sacred truth!...Mr. and Mrs. Rothlich were not offended at the sight of two young people admiring each other...Mark eagerly confided to Captain Haralan ...Captain Haralan also thought it was a good thing... He reported this delicate situation to his parents, and the parents conveyed it to his daughter...Miss Mira suddenly felt like a lady, but she still accepted it. Mark's infatuation...So, Mark Vidal came to the door to propose marriage, and was accepted immediately. This romance, like everything else, will come to a successful conclusion..." "Dear Henry, you call it the end," Mark declared, "I think it's just the beginning..." "You're right, Mark, I've lost the words! . . . When's the wedding? . . . " "We all wait for you to come to determine the auspicious wedding day." "Well then, as you like... in 6 weeks... in 6 months... in 6 years..." "Dear Henry," Mark said, "I hope you can explain to the doctor that your vacation is not long. If you stay too long in Raz, the operation of the solar system will be in chaos due to the lack of your genius calculation..." "In a word, I have to be responsible for the derailment of the planets and the collision of the planets..." "Yes, please don't postpone the wedding..." "The day after tomorrow, or even tonight... How about it?... Please rest assured, dear Mark, I will try my best to make this matter and your wish come true. Actually, I still have a month or so of vacation. In the end, I will live by your husband and wife's side for half a month..." "That would be great, Henry." "Dear Marc, are you planning to settle in Raz? . . . You are not going back to France... Paris? . . . " "This matter has not been finalized yet." Mark replied, "Let's discuss this later! . . . I only care about the present. As for the future, for me, there is only marriage and nothing else..." "The past is gone," I said aloud, "the future has not yet arrived... Only the present is what matters! ... This is the Italian adage I always ask people to recite under the bright stars." We chatted in this tone until supper time.After dinner, Marc and I smoked cigars and walked along the left bank of the Danube. My first evening walk didn't impress me with the city, but the second day I had a full day to see it.It is very likely that Mark can't get out to accompany me, so I have to ask Captain Haralan to do it for me. Naturally, the center of our conversation has always revolved around the main thread of Mira Rotelich. However, I often think of what the Secretary-General of the Oriental Company told me on the eve of parting from Paris, and my brother's conversation never shows that his romance has been disturbed.However, Mark had, indeed had, a rival in love, the son of Odo Stolitz, who was courted by Mira Rothlich, which is not surprising since Mira's family is very rich , and I am as beautiful as a fairy.But now, William Stolitz had no more wishful thinking, no more fears about the man. I naturally thought of the words I heard when I got off the boat.Assuming I wasn't dreaming, someone was talking to me, and I couldn't attribute it to the German trick.We were on a boat from Perth, but he landed before the boat got to Raz. I did not tell my brother about it, but I felt obliged to remind him about that William Stolitz. Mark just made a meaningless gesture and said to me: "Captain Haralan mentioned that guy to me. He seems to be the only son of that scholar, Odor Storlitz. I heard that the scholar was regarded as a wizard in Germany--pure nonsense, he was in He occupies an important position in the field of natural science, and has made great discoveries in the fields of physics and chemistry. But in any case, his son's marriage proposal has been rejected." "Did this happen long before your proposal was accepted, Mark?" "About three or four months ago, if I'm not mistaken," replied the younger brother. "Did Miss Meera know that there was a William Stolitz who wanted to marry her, as in the comic opera?" "I don't think she knows." "He didn't take any further action?" "No, probably he knows he has no chance..." "What was that William Stolitz like?" "A weird guy, with mysterious whereabouts, living alone..." "In Raz..." "Yes, in Raz. He lives in a lonely house on the Dekeli Street. He is German, and that alone makes it impossible for Rothlich to accept his proposal. The Hungarians hate Jill as much as the French." Children of Jom II." "Mark, he's probably still a Prussian." "Yes, a Prussian born in Spremberg of Brandenburg." "Have you seen him?" "Several times. Captain Haralan pointed him out to me one day in the museum, and he didn't seem to see us." "Is he still in Raz?" "I can't answer your question, Henry, but I don't think I've seen him for two or three weeks." "He better be out of Raz." "Hey!" said Henry, "let's stop talking about that man. If some woman ever becomes Mrs. William Storitz, you can rest assured it won't be Mira Routledge, since... ..." "Yes," I went on, "since she's Mrs. Marc Vidal!" We went all the way to the wooden bridge connecting the banks of the Hungarian and Serbian rivers.We stood on the bridge for a few minutes, admiring the beautiful river below.The night is pure and full of stars, reflected in the water, like thousands of silver fish swimming. I talked to Mark about my affairs, about our mutual friends, and about the art world with whom I was in close contact.We also talked a lot about Paris.If all goes well, he should go back for a few weeks after the marriage.Newlyweds usually go to Italy or Switzerland for their honeymoon.But they could go to France.Mira would be very happy to see the familiar Paris again, not to mention revisiting the old place with her husband this time. I told Mark that I had prepared all the paperwork he had asked for in his last letter.He can rest assured that there is nothing missing in the passport required for the honeymoon trip. Our conversation kept coming back to the bright dipper, Mira, radiant, like the end of a compass always pointing north.Mark spoke tirelessly, and I listened calmly.He has long wanted to confide in me about these many things!In the end, I am more sensible, otherwise, we would have to talk all night. On such a cool night, with few people on the quay, our walk was not disturbed.Am I confused?Why do I always feel that there is someone following us behind us.He followed, as if trying to eavesdrop on our conversation.The man was of medium height, and judging from his heavy gait, he was a fellow of a certain age.Later, the man fell far behind and disappeared. At 10:30, Mark and I returned to the Temeswar apartment.The words I heard on the barge came back to me like a phantom shadow before I fell asleep, .