XXIV
Sepp Jörgen was the only one who stayed put, wondering what was going on. He saw a crowd of people following the Pied Piper. He caught sounds that were full of expectation and longing. But he did not feel what the crowd felt and the pipe was not speaking to him. He let all of Hamelin pass by, lost in the pursuit of his own destiny, his hungry eyes searching for Kätchen and Lori. To no avail. Sepp Jörgen, whose fate it was to understand everything too late, had been left behind again. The crowd had passed him by, just as everything had so far passed him by; the crowd was led on by the sound of the Piper’s pipe. Oh how enthralling that land of seven castles must be, if its spell manages to awaken so many sleepers! The Piper’s pipe moved between whispering and resonating, between weeping and exulting. It promised pure joy and pleasure beyond imagining. And everyone who heard it believed in it. Even Mosse the usurer, who believed in nothing that couldn’t be backed by a cast-iron guarantee. The Piper’s procession passed through all the streets of the town. Once in a while the Piper played his pipe as if he was still calling out to someone. Someone was indeed missing from the crowd, and it wasn’t Sepp Jörgen. The pipe sounded like a tender and pleading lament. But whoever was missing did not make an appearance. For a moment the pipe sounded a note of hesitation, as if deluged by a torrent of tears. But only for a moment: then the note of triumph came clearly back. The miracle of the land with seven castles. Eventually the procession left Hamelin behind it. It began to climb the slopes of Mount Koppel. The forest murmured above the heads of thousands who were listening intently. The Piper’s pipe played tirelessly. At first it had sounded an occasional note of mockery at everyone and everything, ( 98 )
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