Ekkehard Volume Ii Part 8

"I know, what I know," replied the other, with a sly expression.

Again there ensued a pause. The convent-farmer looked out of the window. The harvest was destroyed. He turned round.

"Speak," cried he.

"Did you notice that strange grey cloud, sailing past the dark ones?"

said the man. "What else can it have been, but the cloud-ship? Somebody has sold our corn to the owners of that ship." ...

The convent-farmer crossed himself, as if he wanted to prevent his saying more.

"I have heard it said by my grandmother," continued the head-servant.

"She has often heard people speak about it in Alsace, when the thunderstorms came from over the Odilienberg. The ship comes from a land that is called Magonia, and is always white, and sails on black clouds. Fasolt and Mermuth sit in it, and throw down the hailstones on the fields, if the great weather-wizard has given them the power to do so. Then, they lift up our corn into their ship, and sail back to Magonia, where they are well paid for it. To be on good terms with the cloud-sailors, is more profitable than the reading of ma.s.ses. We shall have nothing but the husks this year."

The convent-farmer became thoughtful. Then he suddenly seized the head-servant by the collar, and shaking him violently, cried: "who?"

But the man in reply put one of his fingers up to his lips. It had become late.

At the same early hour when Cappan had met Ekkehard, the convent-farmer, accompanied by the head-servant, was walking through the fields, to look at the damage. Neither of them said a word. The loss in crops was considerable, but they did not fail to observe that the land on the other side had suffered far less. It was as if the oak-wood had been the boundary line, for the hail-storm.

On the neighbouring lands, Cappan was performing his duties. He had finished setting his traps, and thought he would allow himself some rest. So, he drew from his pocket a piece of bread and some bacon, which was as soft and white as the newly fallen snow, and looked so tempting that he could not help thinking of his spouse with deep grat.i.tude, for having provided him with such food. Further, he thought about many another thing which had occurred since their wedding, and he cast a longing look up to the larks, as if he wanted them to fly over to the Hohenstoffeln, to carry some tender messages there, and again he felt so lightsome and happy, that he cut a mighty caper into the air.

His slender spouse not being present just then, he thought of giving himself a treat, by lying down full length on the ground, whilst he ate his food; for at home, he had until then always been obliged to sit down, little as he liked it.

Just at that moment he remembered that Friderun, to call down a blessing on his work, had taught him to p.r.o.nounce some words, which were to exorcise the vermin; exhorting him very earnestly not to forget saying them. His breakfast would never have tasted well if he had not obeyed this injunction.

On the border of the field, there was a stone, on which a half moon was engraven, the sign of Dame Hadwig's ownership. He stepped up to it, and pulling off his wooden shoe from his right foot, he stood barefoot and stretched out his arms towards the wood. The convent-farmer and his head-servant, who were walking between the trees, stopped at this sight, but Cappan did not observe them and p.r.o.nounced the words which Friderun had taught him.

"_Aius sanctus, cardia cardiani!_ Mouse and she-mouse, hamster and mole, I bid ye all to go away from the fields and meads below; and may fever, plague and death follow you where'er ye go! _Afrias, aestrias, palamiasit!_"

Hidden behind some bulky oak-trees, the convent-farmer and his companion, had watched the exorcism. They now approached stealthily.

"_Afrias, aestrias, palamiasit!_" said Cappan for the second time, when a blow from behind, hit him right on the neck, so that he fell down.

Strange, unintelligible words entered his ears, and before he had recovered from his surprise, four fists were l.u.s.tily belabouring his back, like flails on a barn-floor.

"Out with it, thou corn-murderer!" shrieked the convent-farmer. "What has the Schlangenhof ever done thee, thou weather-maker, mice-catcher, rake-h.e.l.l?!"

Cappan gave no answer. The poor fellow was perfectly bewildered, but this only angered the old man the more.

"Look into his eyes, whether they are bleared, and if things are reflected wrongly in them," called he out to the head-servant. The latter obeyed, but he was honest.

"'Tis not in the eyes," said he.

"Then lift up his arm!"

He tore off the upper garment from the prostrate man, and examined his arms very carefully; for he who held communion with evil spirits, bore some mark on his body. But they found nothing whatever on the poor wretch, except some scars of old wounds. This fact had almost restored him to favour in their eyes, for folks were then quick and changeable in their pa.s.sions, as an historian of those days informs us. Just at that moment however, the servant-man's eyes fell on the ground, where a large stag-beetle was crawling along. His wings shone with violet-blackish hue, and the reddish horns were proudly raised, like a stag's antlers. He had witnessed the ill-treatment which Cappan had received, and was going to continue his way, not having liked it.

The head-servant started back, affrightedly.

"The _donnerguggi_," exclaimed he.

"The thunder-beetle!" cried the convent-farmer likewise, and now Cappan was lost. That he, together with the beetle, had made the storm, was now beyond all doubt, for the stag-beetle, was then believed to attract thunder and lightning.

"Confess and repent, thou heathenish dog!" said the farmer, searching for his knife, but here an idea struck him and he continued, "he shall meet with his punishment on the grave of his brothers. To revenge them, he has brought down the hail-storm."

The servant had meanwhile smashed the stag-beetle between two large pebbles, which he afterwards buried in the ground. Together, they now laid hands on Cappan, dragging him over the field, to the Hunnic mound, and there bound fast his hands and feet. This being done, the man ran over to the Schlangenhof, to call his fellow-servants. Wild and blood-thirsty they came. Some of them had danced at Cappan's wedding, but this did not in the least prevent their going out now to stone him.

Cappan began to collect his scattered senses. What he was accused of, he could not guess, but he understood well enough, that his life was in great danger. Therefore he now uttered a shriek which rent the air, wild and complaining, like the death-cry of a wounded horse, and awakened Ekkehard from his reverie, under the elder-tree. He recognized the voice of his G.o.d-child and looked down. A second time, Cappan's cry rose up to him, and then Ekkehard forgot Solomon's song, and hurried down the valley. He came in the nick of time. They had placed Cappan, with his back towards the piece of rock covering the mound, and were forming a semi-circle around him. The convent-farmer explained how he had caught him in the very act of weather-making, and then they unanimously agreed, that he should be stoned to death.

Into this grim a.s.sembly, rushed Ekkehard. The ecclesiastical men of those days were less deluded than they were a few hundred years later, when thousands lost their lives by fire, on account of similar accusations; and the state signed the death-warrant; and the church gave its blessing thereto. Ekkehard, though convinced of the existence of witchcraft, had himself once copied the treatise of the pious Bishop Agobard, written to disprove the nonsensical popular superst.i.tion of weather-making. Indignant wrath gave eloquence to his speech.

"What are ye about, ye deluded men, that ye intend to judge, when ye ought to pray that ye may not be judged yourselves! If the man has sinned, then wait till the new moon, when the parish-priest at Radolfszell will be holding court against all malefactors. There, let seven sworn men, accuse him of the forbidden art, according to the laws of the emperor and of the church."

But the men of the Schlangenhof would not heed his words. A threatening murmur ran through their ranks.

Then, Ekkehard thought of striking another chord in their rough minds.

"And do ye really believe, ye sons of the land of saints, of the Suabian ground, which the Lord has been pleased to look upon with gracious eyes, that such a poor, miserable Hun could have the power, to command the clouds? Do ye think that the clouds would obey him? That a brave Hegau flash of lightning would not rather have split his head, to punish him, for having dared to meddle with it?"

This last reason had almost convinced the native pride of the men, but the convent-farmer cried out: "The thunder-beetle! the thunder-beetle, we have seen it with our eyes, crawling around his feet!"

Then the cry of "stone him to death!" was again raised. A first stone was hurled at the unfortunate Hun, making his blood flow. Upon this, Ekkehard, bravely threw himself on his G.o.d-son, shielding him with his own body.

This had its effect.

The men of the Schlangenhof looked at each other dumfounded, until one of them turned round to go away, and the others following his example, the convent-farmer was soon left standing there all alone.

"You are taking the part of the land-destroyer!" he cried angrily, but on Ekkehard not giving an answer, he likewise dropped the stone from his hand, and went away grumbling.

Poor Cappan found himself in a most pitiable condition; for on a back which has been under the treatment of Allemannian peasants' fists, "no gra.s.s will grow again so easily," as the expression is in those parts.

The stone had caused a wound on the head which was bleeding profusely.

Ekkehard, first washed his head with some rain-water, made the sign of the cross over it, to stop the bleeding, and then dressed the wound as well as he could. He thought of the parable of the Good Samaritan. The wounded man looked gratefully up at him. Slowly Ekkehard led him up to the castle, and he had to persuade him, before he would take his arm.

The foot that had been wounded in the late battle, also began hurting him again, so that he limped on, with suppressed groans.

On the Hohentwiel, their arrival was the cause of great and general excitement, for everybody liked the Hun. The d.u.c.h.ess descended into the courtyard, bestowing a friendly nod on Ekkehard, on account of his kindliness and compa.s.sion. The trespa.s.s of the monastery's va.s.sal against her subject, raised her just resentment.

"That shall not be forgotten," said she. "Be comforted my poor mouse-catcher, for they shall pay thee damages for thy wounded pate, that will equal a dowry. And for the broken peace of the realm, we shall decree the highest possible fine. A few pounds of silver, shall not be sufficient. These convent-people, grow to be as insolent as their masters!"

But the most indignant of all was Master Spazzo the chamberlain.

"Did I for this reason withhold my sword from his head, when he lay wounded before me, that those clodhoppers of the Schlangenhof, should pave it with their field-stones? And what, if he was our enemy before?

Now he is baptized and I am his G.o.d-father, and bound to take care of the welfare of his soul as well as of his body. Be content, G.o.dchild!"

cried he, rattling his sword on the stone flags, "for as soon as thy scratch has been mended, I shall accompany thee on thy first walk, and then we will settle accounts with the convent-farmer. Hail and thunder, that we will! So, as to make the chips fly off his head! With those farmers, things cannot go on any longer in that way. These fellows carry shields and arms like n.o.blemen, and instead of hunting like peasants, they keep dogs, broken in to fly at boars and bears; and blow on their bugles, as if they were the lords of the creation. Whenever a man carries his head higher than the rest, one may be sure that he is a farmer!"

"Where was the trespa.s.s committed?" asked the d.u.c.h.ess.

"They dragged him from the boundary stone with the raised half-moon, to the Hunnic mound," said Ekkehard.

"Consequently the deed has been done, even on our own ground and territory," indignantly exclaimed the d.u.c.h.ess. "That is too much!

Master Spazzo you must to horse!"