Lotte-Lena constantly read the books she had bor-rowed from the chamberlain.She kept them for two years,but by that time she knew by heart all the parts of"Dyveke",but she only wished to appear in one of them,that of Dyveke herself,and not in the capital where therewas so much jealousy,and where they would not have her. She would begin her artistic career(as the chamberlaincalled it)in one of the bigger provincial towns.
Now it was quite miraculous,that it was just thevery same place where the young apothecary had settledhimself as the town's youngest,if not the only,apothe-cary.
The long-looked-for evening came when Lotte-Lenashould make her first appearance and win victory and for-tune,as the key had said.The chamberlain was not
there,he was ill in bed and his wife nursed him;he hadto have warm bandages and chamomile tea;the bandageson the stomach and the tea in the stomach.
The couple were not present themselves at the per-formance of"Dyveke",but the apothecary was there andwrote a letter about it to his relative the chamberlain'swife.
"If the chamberlain's key had been in my pocket,"he wrote,"I would have taken it out and whistled in it;she deserved that,and the door-key deserved it,whichhad so shamefully lied to her with its'Victory and For-tune'."
The chamberlain read the letter.The whole thingwas malice,said he—hatred of the key—which venteditself on the innocent girl.
And as soon as he rose from his bed,and was him-self again,he sent a short but venomous letter to theapothecary,who answered it as if he had not found any-thing but jest and good humour in the whole epistle.
He thanked him for that as for every future,benevo-lent contribution to the publication of the key's incompa-rable worth and importance.Next,he confided to thechamberlain,that he,besides his work as apothecary,was writing a great key romance,in which all the charac-ters were keys;without exception,keys."The door-key"was naturally the leading person,and the chamberlain'sdoor-key was the model for him,endowed with propheticvision and divination.All the other keys must revolveround it;the old chamberlain's key,which knew thesplendor and festivities of the court;the clock-key,little, fine,and elegant,costing three-pence at the iron-mon-ger's;the key of the pulpit,which reckons itself amongthe clergy,and has,by sitting through the night in thekey-hole,seen ghosts.The dining-room,the wood-houseand the wine-cellar keys all appear,curtsy,and revolvearound the door-key.The sunbeams light it up like silver; the wind,the spirit of the universe,rushes in on it,sothat it whistles.It is the key of all keys,it was the cham-berlain's door-key,now it is the key of the gate of Heav-en,it is the Pope's key,it is"infallible".
"Malice,"said the chamberlain,"colossal malice!"
He and the apothecary did not see each other againexcept at the funeral of the chamberlain's wife.
She died first.
There was sorrow and regret in the house.Even thebranches of cherry-tree,which had sent out fresh shootsand flowers,sorrowed and withered;they stood forgotten,she cared for them no more.
The chamberlain and the apothecary followed her cof-fin,side by side,as the two nearest relations;here was notime or inclination for wrangling.
Lotte-Lena sewed the mourning-band round the cham-berlain's hat.She was here in the house,come back longago without victory and fortune in her artistic career.But itwould come;Lotte-Lena had a future.The key had said it,and the chamberlain had said it.
She came up to him.They talked of the dead,andthey wept,Lotte-Lena was tender;they talked of art,andLotte-Lena was strong.
"The theatre life is charming,"said she,"but thereis so much quarrelling and jealousy!I would rather go myown way.First myself,then art!"