Nina Balatka | Page 6

had been at Paris, and took much delight in telling her friends
that the carriage also was Parisian; but, in truth, it had come no further
than from Dresden. Josef Balatka and his daughter were very, very poor;
but, poor as they were, they lived in a large house, which, at least
nominally, belonged to old Balatka himself, and which had been his
residence in the days of his better fortunes. It was in the Kleinseite, that
narrow portion of the town, which lies on the other side of the river
Moldau--the further side, that is, from the so-called Old and New Town,
on the western side of the river, immediately under the great hill of the
Hradschin. The Old Town and the New Town are thus on one side of
the river, and the Kleinseite and the Hradschin on the other. To those
who know Prague, it need not here be explained that the streets of the
Kleinseite are wonderful in their picturesque architecture, wonderful in
their lights and shades, wonderful in their strange mixture of shops and
palaces-- and now, alas! also of Austrian barracks--and wonderful in
their intricacy and great steepness of ascent. Balatka's house stood in a
small courtyard near to the river, but altogether hidden from it,
somewhat to the right of the main street of the Kleinseite as you pass
over the bridge. A lane, for it is little more, turning from the main street
between the side walls of what were once two palaces, comes suddenly
into a small square, and from a corner of this square there is an open

stone archway leading into a court. In this court is the door, or doors, as
I may say, of the house in which Balatka lived with his daughter Nina.
Opposite to these two doors was the blind wall of another residence.
Balatka's house occupied two sides of the court, and no other window,
therefore, besides his own looked either upon it or upon him. The
aspect of the place is such as to strike with wonder a stranger to
Prague--that in the heart of so large a city there should be an abode so
sequestered, so isolated, so desolate, and yet so close to the thickest
throng of life. But there are others such, perhaps many others such, in
Prague; and Nina Balatka, who had been born there, thought nothing of
the quaintness of her abode. Immediately over the little square stood
the palace of the Hradschin, the wide-spreading residence of the old
kings of Bohemia, now the habitation of an ex- emperor of the House
of Hapsburg, who must surely find the thousand chambers of the royal
mansion all too wide a retreat for the use of his old age. So
immediately did the imperial hill tower over the spot on which Balatka
lived, that it would seem at night, when the moon was shining as it
shines only at Prague, that the colonnades of the palace were the upper
storeys of some enormous edifice, of which the broken merchant's
small courtyard formed a lower portion. The long rows of windows
would glimmer in the sheen of the night, and Nina would stand in the
gloom of the archway counting them till they would seem to be
uncountable, and wondering what might be the thoughts of those who
abode there. But those who abode there were few in number, and their
thoughts were hardly worthy of Nina's speculation. The windows of
kings' palaces look out from many chambers. The windows of the
Hradschin look out, as we are told, from a thousand. But the rooms
within have seldom many tenants, nor the tenants, perhaps, many
thoughts. Chamber after chamber, you shall pass through them by the
score, and know by signs unconsciously recognised that there is not,
and never has been, true habitation within them. Windows almost
innumerable are there, that they may be seen from the outside--and
such is the use of palaces. But Nina, as she would look, would people
the rooms with throngs of bright inhabitants, and would think of the
joys of happy girls who were loved by Christian youths, and who could
dare to tell their friends of their love. But Nina Balatka was no coward,
and she had already determined that she would at once tell her love to

those who had a right to know in what way she intended to dispose of
herself. As to her father, if only he could have been alone in the matter,
she would have had some hope of a compromise which would have
made it not absolutely necessary that she should separate herself from
him for ever in giving herself to Anton Trendellsohn. Josef Balatka
would doubtless express horror, and would feel shame that his daughter
should love a