Tales of the Wonder Club Volume II Part 12

"Buy him toys!" exclaimed the headsman, laughing. "As long as I bring him home a football now and then, he is quite content." And he laughed again.

"Well, that is a toy, isn't it?" said the student, not as yet comprehending the headsman's meaning.

"Yes, a toy that costs me nothing, and gives him no end of amus.e.m.e.nt.

You should see how he kicks the heads about that I bring him home. It's quite a pleasure to see the youngster enjoy himself in his innocent way."

"You do not mean to say," said the Englishman, in horror, "that the football you promised him is to be _a human head_!"

"Aye, to be sure," replied the Scharfrichter. "What else should it be?

What kicks he'll give it to be sure! Ha! ha! ha! that's the way to bring up boys; makes them hardy. _He's_ not afraid of a little blood. Talk of his not taking a liking to my business! Why he's always saying to me, 'Papa, when I am big enough to wield your sword, you'll let me cut off heads, won't you?'

"'Yes, my boy, that you shall,' say I, for I like to give him encouragement. That's what I call bringing up boys well. I wouldn't give a fig for one of your milksops that scream or faint at the sight of blood, not I."

"Humph," muttered my ancestor, and he remained silent for some minutes, absorbed in meditation.

The headsman whipped on his horse in silence; at length he said to his guest: "Here we are at last. Look at yon crowd waiting to receive us."

My relative lifted his head, and sure enough there was the mound of earth erected for the criminal already surrounded by soldiers, close to which thronged the crowd. All the inhabitants of ----dorf were astir, and in the crowd our Englishman now recognised his fellow students. A cry of "_Der Henker! der Henker!_"[3] arose on all sides. Room was at once made for the headsman and his companion, and Fritz's fellow students, seeing their friend arrive in a Henker's cart, pushed their way through the crowd to ask him all sorts of questions.

Fritz descended with difficulty after paying his host for his board and lodging, and joined his companions. In a few minutes more the criminal's cart arrived with the "_armer Sunder_," or poor sinner, accompanied by two priests. Loud execrations broke from the mob, amidst which the wretched being descended from the cart and mounted the scaffold. A dead silence reigned around. One of the priests whispered something earnestly in the ear of the condemned, who was as pale as death, and he took his seat on the chair prepared for him, while an expression of savage delight appeared on the countenance of the headsman.

He felt all eyes were upon him. The terrible two-handed weapon was raised aloft, and brandished over the Henker's head. One blow and the head of the unhappy wretch was severed from his body. Loud cheering rent the air as the Scharfrichter, holding the head of the criminal by the hair, presented it to the public gaze. But at this moment a most unexpected and revolting scene ensued.

Several persons from among the crowd rushed forward toward the scaffold with mugs, which they filled at the fresh fountain of blood spurting up from the severed neck of the criminal and drank off at a draught.

My ancestor sickened at so disgusting a spectacle, and demanded the reason of some bystander. He was informed that those persons believed human blood fresh from the neck of a beheaded criminal to be an infallible remedy for epileptic fits. The superst.i.tion exists to this day. Violent exercise after the draught, he was informed, was considered necessary, in order to effect a cure.

The crowd began to disperse, and my ancestor, leaning on the arm of a friend, also retired from the scene, disgusted with himself at having been present at such a spectacle. Before leaving the spot he had time to notice his host of the previous night start off in his cart towards home with the promised football.

Our English student was laid up for some little time with his sprained ankle, and some of his companions remained behind to keep him company, while others moved onward.

The ankle being cured, my relative continued his foot tour with his friends, and afterwards returned to the university, where he studied hard till the time came round for an examination, which he pa.s.sed, and shortly afterwards returned to England.

We hear nothing more of my ancestor until ten or twelve years afterwards, when we again find him in Germany, whither he had been suddenly called to visit some relative, then in a dying state.

He arrived just in time to close his relative's eyes, after which he saw him quietly interred in his last home.

This sad office over, he was thinking of returning to England, when, in turning over the articles of his travelling trunk, he suddenly came across a German book belonging to a college friend of his, one Ludwig Engstein, that had been lent him when at the university, and which he had forgotten to return before leaving college. His friend used to live, he remembered, in Weimar, and not being far distant, he resolved to visit that town and to find out his friend's house.

Many changes take place in twelve years, and my ancestor only half expected to meet his fellow-student again. He might have changed his residence--he might be dead. Who could tell what might not have happened to him after so long a lapse of time?

Nevertheless, the Englishman, finding himself on German soil once more, resolved to enquire after the friend of his youth, and should he succeed in discovering him, to put him in possession of his book again, and chat with him over their student days.

Accordingly, he set off for the town of Weimar, and having arrived there, proceeded with the said book under his arm to the house of his friend. He had been once on a visit of a fortnight at his friend's house when a student, and had known his mother and sisters intimately, therefore he had no difficulty in finding the house again.

The town of Weimar had changed but little during these ten or twelve years, and once more he found himself on the old familiar doorstep.

"_Ist der Herr Advocat Engstein zu Hause?_" he demanded of an old woman who answered the door.

"_Ja, mein Herr_," replied the crone. "What name shall I give?"

"Oh, never mind announcing me," said the Englishman; "I'll announce myself."

So saying, he pushed past the old woman, and knocked at his friend's study.

"_Herein!_" called out a voice from within, which my ancestor had no difficulty in recognising as his friend's, and the Englishman entered.

Ludwig Engstein was seated at a table strewed with papers and doc.u.ments, and was busily writing. He was still young looking, but his friend Fritz noticed that his face had a.s.sumed a more thoughtful expression than when at the university. He was now a lawyer in good practice, and the moment his friend entered he was so busy that he did not even raise his head.

"I am sorry to disturb you, Herr Advocat," said Fritz, suddenly, "but I've come to return a book you lent me some time back."

And placing the book on the table, he marched straight out of the room, shutting the door after him. He then peeped through the key-hole and listened awhile to note the effect of his abrupt departure on his friend.

The young lawyer's ear caught his friend's English accent, and at once lifted his head, though not in time to catch a glimpse of his retreating figure.

I have said that Engstein recognised Fritz's accent as English, but little did he suspect that it was his old college friend who had called upon him and left so suddenly.

He looked surprised, took up the book upon the table to look at the t.i.tle, and muttered to himself, "Who can it have been? I do not recollect now who it was I lent it to, but it must have been a long while ago."

He was about to ring the bell, and rose for that purpose when he noticed a face peeping at him through the opening of the door, which was now ajar.

"Who's that? Come in!" cried the lawyer.

"You are busy, Herr Advocat--another time. _Ich empfahle mich Ihnen_,"

said my relative, closing the door slowly after him.

But this time Ludwig had a better view of the Englishman's face.

"_Potztausend!_" exclaimed the lawyer; "I shall know that face. _Ach!

lieber freund Fritz._ Can it be really you? _Nein was fur ein angenehme Ueberaschung!_" he cried, rushing forward and throwing the door wide open while he kissed his friend forcibly on both cheeks.

"Sit down here and tell me to what for a fortuitous and never-to-be-expected train of circ.u.mstances I am indebted for this friendly and to me most agreeable and blissful-past-days-recalling visit."

Fritz then went on to relate the circ.u.mstances of his relative's death, and how he had been called from home to attend him in his last moments.

"I am sorry for the death of your relation," said Ludwig, "but I cannot sufficiently express my extreme joy at seeing my old friend Fritz again after so many years! Ha! ha! ha!" he laughed, partly from delight at meeting his friend, and partly at his friend's mode of introducing himself.

"What for an eccentric and of you and your strange countryman-characteristic way of saluting your old friend after so long!"

And the German again laughed again heartily.

"And what for a busy and for-ever-with-doc.u.ments-and-papers-occupied German business man, not even to notice his swiftly entering, and though long departed from German soil, speedily-vanishing and almost-forgotten English friend!" retorted Fritz, mimicking the high-flown, wordy phraseology of the German.

"No, on my honour, Fritz," replied his friend; "not forgotten, I a.s.sure you. Do you know that I had a dream of you only last night. It never struck me till now. It is strange that I should have dreamed of you just the night before your unexpected and to me most grateful arrival. How strange it is that our dreams often prognosticate coming events! It is as if the mind, partly freed from its material covering during sleep, received the power of peering with greater accuracy into that to-us-in-our-waking-state-obscure and unfathomable future which----"

"Precisely; I understand you," answered my relative, cutting short his friend's philosophic remark; "but let us talk a little over old times; that is if you are at leisure."

"Yes, to be sure," answered the lawyer; "what I am doing now has no need of hurry. Oh, by the way, Fritz, talking of old times, do you remember the night you spent at the house of old Franz Wenzel the Scharfrichter?"