"We must break one of the chandler's window- panes,"said he;"get him up and then slip in." He broke one pane,he broke two."Petersen!"he shouted,and stuck his umbrella handle through the panes;the cellar-man's daughter inside screamed.The cellar-manthrew open the shop door and shouted"Police!"and beforehe had seen the chamberlain's family,recognized and letthem in;the policeman whistled,and in the next street an-other policeman answered with a whistle.People ran to thewindows."Where is the fire?Where is the disturbance?"they asked,and were still asking when the chamberlain wasalready in his room;there he took his coat off,and in itlay the door-key-not in the pocket,but in the lining;ithad slipped down through a hole,which should not havebeen in the pocket.
From that evening the door-key had a particularlygreat significance,not only when they went out in theevening,but when they sat at home,and the chamberlainshowed his cleverness and let the key give answers to ques-tions.He himself thought of the most likely answer,and sohe let the key give it,till at last he believed in it himself;but the apothecary—a young man closely related to thechamberlain—did not believe.The apothecary had a goodcritical head;he had,from his schooldays,written criti-cisms on books and theatres,but without signing his name,that does so much.He was what one calls a wit,but didnot believe in spirits,and least of all in key-spirits.
"Yes,I believe,I believe,"said he,"dear cham-berlain,I believe in the door-key and all key-spirits,asfirmly as I believe in the new science which is beginningto be known,table-turning and spirits in old and new fur-niture.Have you heard about it?I have!I have doubted,you know I am a sceptic,but I have become converted byreading in a quite trustworthy foreign paper,a terriblestory.Can you imagine,chamberlain—I give you the sto-ry as I have it."Two clever children had seen their par-ents waken the spirit in a big dining-table.The little oneswere alone and would now try in the same way to rub lifeinto an old bureau.The life came,the spirit awoke,butit would not tolerate the command of the children;itraised itself,a crash sounded,it shot out its drawers andlaid each of the children in a drawer and ran with themout of the open door,down the stair and into the street,along to the canal,into which it rushed and drowned bothof them.The little ones were buried in Christian ground,but the bureau brought into the council room,triedfor child murder,and burnt alive in the market.
"I have read it!"said the apothecary,"read it in aforeign paper,it is not something that I have inventedmyself.It is,the key take me,true!now I swear a solemn oath!" The chamberlain thought that such a tale was toorude a jest.These two could never talk about the key,the apothecary was stupid on the subject of keys.
The chamberlain made progress in the knowledge ofkeys;the key was his amusement and his hobby.
One evening the chamberlain was just about to go tobed—he stood half undressed,and then he heard aknocking on the door out in the passage;it was the cellar-man who came so late;he also was half undressed,buthe had,he said,suddenly got a thought which he wasafraid he could not keep over the night.
"It is my daughter,Lotte-Lena,I must speak about.She is a pretty girl,and she is confirmed,andnow I would like to see her well placed."
"I am not yet a widower,"said the chamberlain,andsmiled,"and I have no son I can offer her!"
"You understand me,I suppose,Chamberlain,"saidthe cellar-man."She can play the piano,and sing;you might be able to hear her up here in the house.You don'tknow all that that girl can hit upon.She can imitate every-body in speaking and walking.She is made for comedy' and that is a good way for pretty girls of good family'theymight be able to marry a count,but that is not the thoughtwith me or Lotte-Lena.She can sing and she can play pi-ano!so I went with her the other day up to the musicschool.She sang,but she has not the finest kind of voicefor a woman;she has not the canary-shriek in the highestnotes which one demands in lady singers,and so they ad-vised her against that career.Then,I thought,if she can-not be a singer,she can at any rate be an actress,whichonly requires speech.Today I spoke to the instructor,asthey call him.'Has she education?'he asked.'No,'saidI,'absolutely none!''Education is necessary for anartist!'said he.She can get that yet,I thought,and so Iwent home.She can go into a lending library and read whatis there.But as I sat this evening,undressing,it occurredto me,why hire books when one can borrow them?Thechamberlain is full up with books,let her read them;thatis education enough,and she can have that free!"