Albrecht Part 7

"See!" he cried, aiming at the head of a deer which was fixed high against the wall over the great hollow fireplace.

Like a shaft of light the spear flew gleaming down the long hall, straight as a sun-ray and swift as the wind. It transfixed the brown head exactly between the eyes, although in the dim and flickering light of the torches such a shot might well have seemed impossible, and there stood quivering.

A cry of applause greeted this feat.

"Bravo!" exclaimed Herr von Zimmern. "That is a pupil to be proud of."

"It is, indeed," responded Father Christopher. "If thou hast taught him to throw the spear, thou hast truly no reason to look upon thy pains as wasted."

"All that I know of knighthood he has taught me," Albrecht said heartily. "He found me an unlicked whelp of the forest, and whatever I am he has made me."

"Then," Erna rejoined with tender archness, turning toward Von Zimmern, "I have to thank thee that thou hast trained a husband for me."

"Only," burst in Albrecht, with a rich laugh, "if in anything I do not suit, remember it is he and not I who is to bear the blame."

"Nay," she said, giving the black-browed guest her white hand with a gesture of infinite grace, "I thank thee for thy work, even though he should contrive to spoil it himself."

"Come!" cried Albrecht, playfully threatening her with his hand, "that is rank insubordination, and as such--"

"As such, Sir Baron," interrupted his foster-father, with a smile that hardly made him less ugly than before, "you must bear it still a while.

There has been no promise to obey or to honor as yet."

The Lady Adelaide simpered, and laid her hand upon the arm of her niece.

"Think of it, Erna," she whispered, "how wilt thou like to obey?"

"Oh, of that I have small notion!" the countess retorted aloud. "When it comes to that, we shall see!"

The gay spirits of her lover had infected her, and she answered with a manner quite unlike her own. Herr von Zimmern chuckled, and drew from his otter-skin pouch a tiny roll of soft leather.

"So well doth this sentiment approve itself to me," he said, "that humbly and with my Lord Baron's permission I make bold to offer you a token in honor of a marriage to be conducted on principles so reasonable."

There was a mocking note in his voice, albeit his face was too perfectly controlled to betray any undesirable emotion. As he spoke he unrolled the leather, and brought to light a ring of red gold in which was set a large carbuncle engraved with strange characters. Erna could not restrain a cry of admiration at sight of so splendid a jewel, and Lady Adelaide broke out into voluble expressions of delight.

"It is not so much," Herr von Zimmern said coolly, as he cast a side glance at Albrecht, "but it is cunningly fashioned, and--"

"But on the wedding eve," interrupted Albrecht, somewhat abruptly, "no one gives a ring to the bride save only her betrothed. All in good season, Herr Frederich, she will doubtless be glad to wear thy ring, but to-night it is mine that must fetter her."

As he spoke, he leaned forward, and took the carbuncle ring from the hand of Erna, who was about to slip it on her slender finger, and before any one could object or protest he had thrust it into the embroidered pouch by his side, and had in its place produced a second ring in which blazed a ruby so splendid that it seemed to emit sparks of fire.

Across the face of Von Zimmern shot a glance of baffled rage and anger so fierce that the priest, who alone caught sight of it, shuddered and secretly crossed himself under his robe; but it was gone as quickly as it came, and Herr Frederich smiled as he said:

"My gems must needs be poor beside yours, my master, but the ring had powers which made it not unworthy the acceptance of the bride."

"Do not I know its power?" responded Albrecht, gayly. "There is time enough for the proving of its might without troubling the bridal therewith."

As he spoke, he put the glowing ruby on the white finger of his betrothed, and raising the hand to his lips, he kissed it fervently.

"Body of Saint Fridolin!" exclaimed Lady Adelaide, "what a gem! It is like a coal of fire. It is worth a king's ransom."

"It is not rich enough to be worthy of the hand that graces it,"

Albrecht cried joyously.

Then, without waiting for further speech, he suddenly caught up a lute which lay upon the broad ledge of the open window, and after a few notes by way of prelude burst out into this song:

"My love has eyes like the roe, And a voice like the wood-dove's call; While her bosom is white as the snow Of the foam on the torrent's fall.

Fine her hair as the mist By the sun golden kissed, And my heart she holds in its thrall.

"My love has lips like the glow Of rubies red from the mine; And her glances thrill me so For her I'd life resign.

For their fire makes my heart Wake to tremble and start, With a pa.s.sion no words may divine.

"My love has a throat like the swan That haunts the river reeds; Not shapelier the dappled fawn That feeds in the flower-set meads.

When I clasp her, no bliss Has all earth like her kiss, No sweetness her sweetness exceeds!"

The effect of these ardent verses upon the company was apparently rather one of astonishment than of admiration. The Lady Adelaide simpered and a.s.sumed an expression of virtuous disapproval; Herr von Zimmern laughed significantly and openly; while a look of pain came over the face of Father Christopher.

"It is a ballad rather for the singing of an effeminate and sensual Southron," he said, "than for the brave and virtuous lips of a Northern knight."

"It is a foolish tune which Herr Frederich here taught me," returned Albrecht, in too good spirits to be cast down by the reproof. "There is no harm in it that I can see, save that it cannot tell half that a lover feels!"

"Body of Saint Fridolin!" muttered Lady Adelaide, greatly scandalized.

Erna cast down her eyes and said nothing; but though her glance fell only upon the rushes with which the stone floor was strewn, she saw still the form of Albrecht as he stood erect in splendid manly beauty, with the boar-spear poised above his head, ready to fling it like a dart of light down the long hall to transfix the head of the deer above the chimney-place.

IX

OF THE WEDDING MORNING.

Father Christopher lingered long at his prayers on the wedding morning.

There was in his heart so deep concern for the good of his beloved mistress, and so keenly did he feel the responsibility which rested upon him as the spiritual head of the castle, that he could not but be most profoundly anxious that naught of evil should come of this marriage.

The good priest was not without a secret consciousness that his consent to the union of Erna and Albrecht had been in no small degree due to the interest which the knight had aroused in him. He could not tell why he was so strongly attracted toward the stranger, and he endeavored to convince himself that it was because he recognized in Albrecht the possibilities of a high and spiritual life, and believed that it lay within the sphere of Erna's influence to bring these possibilities to fruition. The fascination of Albrecht's personality was so great, however, that it followed the man even into his closet, and made him secretly glad that the knight should have his will, whether it was to be justified to the mind of the priest or not.

It was still early in the morning, but from below the sounds of the preparations for the wedding rose to Father Christopher's ear. Somewhere over in the tower next to that in which was his cell, there sounded the tinkling of a rebec, as if one of the musicians were practising the minstrelsy with which the bridal pair were to be attended to church, and from the court below came the l.u.s.ty voice of a knave that heeded not who slept, but sang in a full, l.u.s.ty voice a rude song of the forest. The priest repeated his orisons, but it was hard to keep his thoughts fixed.

Sighing, he rose at last from his knees.

"G.o.d grant I have not done amiss in consenting to this marriage," he said to himself. "At least I shall soon know how it lies with the soul of Sir Albrecht, for he comes to me for confession before the marriage.

When I have shrived him I shall be lighter-hearted, albeit, G.o.d knows, I trust to find no evil in him. Even though, he added in his thought, I much mis...o...b.. me of Herr von Zimmern, who has been his foster-father."

The sun was half-way to noon when Albrecht, with his firm, free stride, crossed the castle courtyard to join Father Christopher in the chapel, as had been arranged between them when the priest had requested the knight to receive shrift before he was united in marriage with Erna. The baron's bearing had in it little of that humility which might have seemed becoming in one who was on his way to confess his sins. His handsome head was carried well erect, and there was in his eye not only the joy of the bridegroom, but also a mischievous sparkle as of one who apprehends some merry jest which is forward. As he walked rapidly across the court, he hummed to himself under his breath a merry tune, ill suited to his pious errand.

The gloom and cool quiet of the chapel, as he entered the sacred place, checked for the moment Albrecht's song, and he went more soberly up the aisle between the rudely sculptured forms of dead and gone Von Rittenbergs, rec.u.mbent on their tombs in dismal state, until he found himself face to face with Father Christopher, who stood awaiting his penitent at the chancel. The chapel had already been decorated for the bridal, which indeed was to take place in little more than an hour's time, and all the air was fragrant with the odors of the boughs of pine.

The damsel Elsa, who had had always a liking for the baron, and who liked him none the less since the kiss he had given her in the hall for her love-song, had taken it upon herself to see that the chapel was properly adorned and her skill and taste were alike evident from the result.

"I have kept thee waiting long, Father," Albrecht said, as he approached the priest; "but my servitor, whose illness was the cause of my first coming to the castle, is once more stricken down, and in the delirium of his fever he called for me so piteously that his fellow could not forbear to fetch me to his bedside. He believes, in his madness, that he is beset by wolves, and that none else save his master may avail to preserve him."