unthinkable!
“Yes,” sighed the Legal Councilor, “and all
the work! A person has to learn everything all over again, as if
they don’t have enough to do as it is.”
He was completely indifferent on the basis
that it would not effect him very much since he had studied the new
laws already and had passed the exam, thank God!
The princess left and took Frau Marion with
her in her carriage. Olga stayed over with her friend again. They
stood by the door and said goodbye to the others as they left, one
after the other.
“Aren’t you going too, Uncle Jakob?” the
student asked.
“I must wait a bit,” said the Privy
Councilor. “My carriage is not here yet. It will be here in a
moment.”
Frank Braun looked out the window. There was
the little widow, Frau von Dollinger, going down the stairs nimble
as a squirrel in spite of her forty years, down into the garden,
falling down, springing back up. She ran right into a smooth tree
trunk, wrapped her arms and legs around it and started kissing it
passionately, completely drunk and senseless from wine and
lust.
Stanislaus Schacht tried to untangle her but
she held on like a beetle. He was strong and sober in spite of the
enormous quantity of wine that he had drunk. She screamed as he
pulled her away trying to stay clasped to the smooth tree trunk but
he picked her up and carried her in his arms. Then she recognized
him, pulled off his hat and started kissing him on his smooth bald
head.
Now the professor was standing, speaking some
last words with the Legal Councilor.
“I’d like to ask a favor,” he said. “Would
you mind giving me the unlucky little man?”
Frau Gontram answered before her husband
could. “Certainly Herr Privy Councilor. Take that nasty alraune
along with you! It is certainly something more for a bachelor!”
She reached into the large wine bowl and
pulled out the root manikin but the hard wood hit the edge of the
bowl, knocking it over, and it rolled to the floor with a loud
crash that resounded through the room. The magnificent old crystal
bowl broke into hundreds of crystal shards as the bowl’s sweet
contents spilled over the table and onto the floor.
“Holy Mother of God!” she cried out. “It is
certainly a good thing that it is finally leaving my house!”
Chapter Three
Informs how Frank Braun persuaded the Privy
Councilor to create Alraune
T HEY sat in the carriage, Professor Ten Brinken
and his nephew. They didn’t speak. Frank Braun leaned back staring
straight ahead, sunk deeply into his thoughts. The Privy Councilor
was observing, squinting over at him watchfully.
The trip lasted scarcely half an hour. They
rolled along the open road, turned to the right, went downhill over
the rough road to Lendenich. There in the middle of the village lay
the birthplace of the Brinken family.
It was a large, almost square complex with
gardens and a park. Back from the street stood a row of
insignificant old buildings. They turned around a corner past a
shrine of the patron Saint of the village, the Holy Saint John of
Nepomuk. His statue was decorated with flowers and lit with two
eternal lamps that were placed in niches by the corners.
The horses stopped in front of a large
mansion. A servant shut the fenced gate behind them and opened the
carriage door.
“Bring us some wine Aloys,” commanded the
Privy Councilor. “We will be in the library.”
He turned to his nephew. “Will you be
sleeping here Frank? Or should the carriage wait?”
The student shook his head, “Neither, I will
go back to the city on foot.”
They walked across the courtyard, entered the
lower level of the house at a door on the right hand side. It was
literally a great hall with a tiny antechamber and a couple of
other small rooms nearby.
The walls were lined with long immense
shelves containing thousands of books. Low glass cases stood here
and there full of Roman artifacts. Many graves had been emptied,
robbed of their cherished and carefully
“Yes,” sighed the Legal Councilor, “and all
the work! A person has to learn everything all over again, as if
they don’t have enough to do as it is.”
He was completely indifferent on the basis
that it would not effect him very much since he had studied the new
laws already and had passed the exam, thank God!
The princess left and took Frau Marion with
her in her carriage. Olga stayed over with her friend again. They
stood by the door and said goodbye to the others as they left, one
after the other.
“Aren’t you going too, Uncle Jakob?” the
student asked.
“I must wait a bit,” said the Privy
Councilor. “My carriage is not here yet. It will be here in a
moment.”
Frank Braun looked out the window. There was
the little widow, Frau von Dollinger, going down the stairs nimble
as a squirrel in spite of her forty years, down into the garden,
falling down, springing back up. She ran right into a smooth tree
trunk, wrapped her arms and legs around it and started kissing it
passionately, completely drunk and senseless from wine and
lust.
Stanislaus Schacht tried to untangle her but
she held on like a beetle. He was strong and sober in spite of the
enormous quantity of wine that he had drunk. She screamed as he
pulled her away trying to stay clasped to the smooth tree trunk but
he picked her up and carried her in his arms. Then she recognized
him, pulled off his hat and started kissing him on his smooth bald
head.
Now the professor was standing, speaking some
last words with the Legal Councilor.
“I’d like to ask a favor,” he said. “Would
you mind giving me the unlucky little man?”
Frau Gontram answered before her husband
could. “Certainly Herr Privy Councilor. Take that nasty alraune
along with you! It is certainly something more for a bachelor!”
She reached into the large wine bowl and
pulled out the root manikin but the hard wood hit the edge of the
bowl, knocking it over, and it rolled to the floor with a loud
crash that resounded through the room. The magnificent old crystal
bowl broke into hundreds of crystal shards as the bowl’s sweet
contents spilled over the table and onto the floor.
“Holy Mother of God!” she cried out. “It is
certainly a good thing that it is finally leaving my house!”
Chapter Three
Informs how Frank Braun persuaded the Privy
Councilor to create Alraune
T HEY sat in the carriage, Professor Ten Brinken
and his nephew. They didn’t speak. Frank Braun leaned back staring
straight ahead, sunk deeply into his thoughts. The Privy Councilor
was observing, squinting over at him watchfully.
The trip lasted scarcely half an hour. They
rolled along the open road, turned to the right, went downhill over
the rough road to Lendenich. There in the middle of the village lay
the birthplace of the Brinken family.
It was a large, almost square complex with
gardens and a park. Back from the street stood a row of
insignificant old buildings. They turned around a corner past a
shrine of the patron Saint of the village, the Holy Saint John of
Nepomuk. His statue was decorated with flowers and lit with two
eternal lamps that were placed in niches by the corners.
The horses stopped in front of a large
mansion. A servant shut the fenced gate behind them and opened the
carriage door.
“Bring us some wine Aloys,” commanded the
Privy Councilor. “We will be in the library.”
He turned to his nephew. “Will you be
sleeping here Frank? Or should the carriage wait?”
The student shook his head, “Neither, I will
go back to the city on foot.”
They walked across the courtyard, entered the
lower level of the house at a door on the right hand side. It was
literally a great hall with a tiny antechamber and a couple of
other small rooms nearby.
The walls were lined with long immense
shelves containing thousands of books. Low glass cases stood here
and there full of Roman artifacts. Many graves had been emptied,
robbed of their cherished and carefully
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