The Banished Part 12

"Ah! I feel ashamed of myself; but you have already guessed every thing; he only brought me a--a few words from----, my love." The young man then opened his waistcoat, and produced the strip of parchment which he had concealed on his person. "There; this is all he brought to me," said Albert, as he gave it to Fronsberg.

"And is that really all," laughed Fronsberg, after reading the contents: "poor young fellow! and you know nothing more of that man? Do you not know who he is?"

"No; he is nothing more to my knowledge than our messenger of love--I am certain of it!"

"A pretty love messenger, who at the same time pries into our affairs!

Are you not aware that that dangerous man is the fifer of Hardt?"

"The fifer of Hardt?" asked Albert: "this is the first time I have heard that name; what does it mean?"

"n.o.body knows exactly; but he was one of the most formidable leaders in the insurrection of Poor Conrad, for which he, however, afterwards obtained pardon; since that time he leads a restless, roving life, and is now a spy of the Duke of Wurtemberg."

"Is he arrested?" inquired Albert, for he involuntarily felt a warm interest in his new servant.

"No; it is just that which is so incomprehensible; whatever notice we may have of his being in Ulm, though communicated in the quietest manner possible, becomes known to him immediately; for example, when we heard of his being in your stable, and sent secretly to arrest him, he was not to be found. But I trust to your honour that he comes to you on no other business. You may be a.s.sured of this, however, if it be the same man I mean, he does not visit Ulm for your sake alone. Should you ever meet him again, be guarded how you trust such a vagabond. But the watchman now calls ten o'clock. Lay down again, and dream away your confinement. But before I go, give me your word about the fourteen days; and, I can tell you, if you leave Ulm without saying farewell to old Fronsberg----"

"I will not fail to do so!" cried Albert, touched by the pain which he perceived his revered friend felt at parting, and which he tried to smother under a smile. He gave him his hand as a pledge of his promise, according to the desire of the council of war, upon which the knight left the room, with long measured steps.

CHAPTER XII.

"Could I but once that face so dear Behold before we sever; And once again those accents hear, Before we part for ever."

C. GRuNEISEN.

On the following day a horseman, oppressed by the heat of the mid-day sun, was bending his way over that part of the Swabian Alb which leads towards Franconia. He was young, more slim than strong built, and rode a large brown horse; he was well armed with cuira.s.s, dagger, and sword; some parts of his defensive apparel, such as his helmet, and steel plates to cover his limbs, hung to his saddle. The striped light blue and white scarf, which pa.s.sed across his breast over the right shoulder (the distinguishing prerogative of high rank in those days), shewed the young man to be of n.o.ble birth.

He had reached the summit of a hill, which afforded a view into the valley below, and stopping his horse, he turned on one side to enjoy the beautiful prospect. Before him lay an extended plain, bounded on each side by wooded heights, through which flowed the green waters of the Danube; on his right the chain of hills of the Wurtemberg Alb; on his left the distant snow-capped Tyrolean Alps. The blue vault of heaven encircled the scene, and its soft colouring brought out in strong relief the dark walls of Ulm, its ma.s.sive spire, and the whole extent of the town, which lay at the foot of the mountain.

Noon was announced at this moment by the tolling of the bells of the cathedral; their solemn tones resounded throughout the town and its extended plain, until they were lost among the distant mountains.

"The same sounds accompany my departure which greeted my arrival,"

thought the young man: "but how different did I interpret their brazen voices, when for the first time they reached my ear, and guided me to my love; and now that I depart disconsolate, and without object, the same tones follow me! They celebrated the birth of my hope, and now ring its knell. It is the picture of life!" he added, as he took a last farewell of the town in the valley beneath, and turned his horse away: "it is, indeed, the picture of life! These same sounds float over cradle and coffin; and the bells of the chapel of my house which rang a merry peal at my baptism, will also accompany the last of the Sturmfeders to the grave."

The mountain now became steeper; and Albert, whom the reader will have recognised as the young cavalier, allowed his horse to have his own way. Upon quitting Ulm, he had determined to return to his home in Franconia, and there wait events, or at any rate the expiration of the fourteen days' truce he had promised his friend Fronsberg. His heart naturally would lead him to Lichtenstein, the contrary way to the path he was now pursuing; yet he felt he had chosen the one most honourable to his engagements. The balance, however, between the two was very equally poised, and had he had a friend to decide for him and convince him that he was now a free agent to travel whither he pleased, provided he took no part in the contest for fourteen days, he felt that the bent of his inclinations would turn the scale in favour of the neighbourhood of his love. The comparison between his present situation and the former position which he had held only a few days back, did not tend to cheer his spirits. Sudden changes--violent emotions--his confinement on the day before--and, above all, the pain of taking leave of men who had his welfare at heart, produced recollections which almost unmanned him.

Dieterick von Kraft, above all, bewailed his departure. From the first moment of their acquaintance in the room of the town hall when they pledged each other in a b.u.mper, to the last hour when they bid adieu in a parting cup, that excellent friend had manifested the same uninterrupted good feeling towards him. And how had he requited his kindness? Occupied solely with self, he had but partially expressed his sense of obligation to him; and to the honest, straightforward Breitenstein, who, as well as Fronsberg, had held him up as their favourite in the army, what return had he made? Truly there is nothing more painful to a n.o.ble mind than the thought of being ungrateful where its object is to be esteemed.

Full of these gloomy thoughts, he proceeded some distance on his journey. Feeling the rays of the March sun oppressive, and the mountain path becoming more rugged, he determined to repose himself and horse under the shade of an oak tree. He dismounted, loosened the girths of his saddle, and let his weary beast make the most of the stunted gra.s.s in the neighbourhood. He stretched himself under the tree, and though his fatiguing ride and the cool shade invited him to rest, still the unquiet state of the country, so near the theatre of war, the care of his horse and of his weapons, kept him awake until he at last sank into that state between watching and sleep, which the body combats in vain.

V He might have been about half an hour in this situation, when the neighing of his horse roused him; he looked about, and perceived a man with his back towards him, occupying himself with the beast. His first thought was, that taking advantage of his carelessness, the man intended to make away with his steed; he sprang upon his legs, drew his sword, and in a trice was by his side. "Stop, villain! what have you to do with that horse?" he cried, at the same time taking him by the collar rather roughly.

"Have you already discharged me from your service, sir?" said the man, whom Albert immediately recognised as the messenger Bertha had sent to him. The young man was undecided what line of conduct to pursue; for Fronsberg's warning made him distrustful of the man, whilst Bertha's confidence in him recommended him. The countryman continued his conversation, showing him at the same time a handful of hay; "I guessed you would not have provided fodder for your journey; and as there is not much gra.s.s to be picked up on the mountains, I brought an armful with me for the brown horse." So spoke the peasant, and continued feeding the beast.

"And where do you now come from?" asked Albert, having recovered from his astonishment.

"Why, you rode away from Ulm in such haste, I was not able to follow you immediately," he answered.

"Don't tell me a falsehood," said the young man, "otherwise I cannot trust you any more. You do not come from that town at present."

"Well, I suppose you will not be angry, if I was a little earlier than you on the road?" said the countryman, and turned away; but the cunning smile on his countenance did not escape Albert.

"Let my horse alone," said Albert, impatiently. "Come, sit down with me under that oak, and tell me, without hesitation, why you left the town so suddenly yesterday evening?"

"It was not with the Ulmers' good will; for they even wanted to induce me to remain longer with them, and to give me board and lodging gratis," replied the man.

"Yes, they would have put you in the lowest cell of the prison, where you would have seen neither sun nor moon, the place appropriated to spies and such like gentry."

"Excuse me, sir," replied the messenger, "though I might have been somewhat lower, we should both have been under the same roof."

"Dog of a spy!" cried Albert, with anger burning on his cheek; "would you place my father's son in the same rank with the fifer of Hardt?"

"What is that you say?" replied the other with menacing tone; "what name is that you mentioned? do you know the fifer of Hardt?" At these words he grasped his axe, though perhaps involuntarily. His compact, broad-chested figure, spite of his low stature, gave him the appearance of an adversary not to be despised: and many a man, single handed, would have been staggered at his determined countenance and fierce eye.

But the young man leaped up, threw back his long hair, and met the dark look of his companion with one full of pride and dignity; he seized his sword, and said calmly, "What do you mean by placing yourself in that threatening position? If I do not mistake, you are the man I mentioned, the mover and leader of those rebellious hounds; away with you or I will show you how such outcasts ought to be treated!"

The countryman struggled with rage; he threw His axe with a powerful swing into the tree, and stood unarmed before Albert. "Allow me," said he, "to give you another piece of advice, namely, never to let your adversary stand between you and your horse, for if I had taken immediate advantage of your order to take myself off, I should have had by far the best of it."

A look at his horse proved the truth of what the man said, and Albert blushed for his inexperience. He quitted the grasp of his sword, and, without replying, seated himself again on the ground. The countryman followed his example, but at a respectable distance, and said, "You are perfectly justified in being suspicious of me, Albert von Sturmfeder; but if you knew the pain that the name you have just mentioned gives me, you would pardon my violent conduct. Yes, I am he who goes by that name; but I have an abhorrence to be called by it: my friends call me Hans--my enemies the fifer of Hardt, which they know I so much detest."

"What has that name to do with you?" asked Albert; "why are you called by it? and why do you dislike it?"

"Why do people call me so?" answered the other: "I came from a village of the name of Hardt; it lies in the low country, not far from Nurtingen. I follow the profession of music, and play at fairs and wakes, and when young people want to dance. For this reason I go by the appellation of the fifer of Hardt; but as this name was stained with crime and blood in an evil moment, I have dropped it, and cannot bear the sound of it any longer."

Albert measured him with a searching look, and said, "I know very well the evil moment to which you allude: when you peasants rebelled against your Duke, you were one of the worst among them. Is it not true?"

"I see you are acquainted with the history of an unfortunate man," said the countryman, with penitent downcast looks: "but you must not believe that I am still the same person; the Holy One saved me and changed my way of thinking, so that I may now say, I am an honest man."

"Oh! tell me," interrupted Albert, "what was the cause of the insurrection? How were you saved? and how is it that you now serve the Duke?"

"I will spare you this information for a more fitting occasion," he replied, "for I trust this will not be the last time we meet; allow me to ask you instead, where does this road lead to? It does not lead to Lichtenstein!"

"I am not going there," said Albert, dejected; "this way leads to Franconia, to my old uncle; you can tell the lady my plans, when you go to Lichtenstein."

"And what are you going to do at your old uncle's? To hunt? you can do so elsewhere; or perhaps to kill time? you can do that cheap enough all over the world. Take my advice in a few words," he added, with a good-humoured smile; "turn your horse's head the other way, and take a ride with me for a couple of days about Wurtemberg. I know the country well enough to keep you out of harm's way, and though war is declared, the roads are tolerably safe yet."

The fifer gave him this a.s.surance, in order to encourage him to bend his steps towards Lichtenstein, which he knew would gratify the wishes of the lady who had entrusted him with her message of love. He was fully aware of the possibility there was of falling in with the patroles of the League, which were scattered over the country; but he had, at the same time, sufficient confidence in his knowledge of the unfrequented paths among the mountains, to be able to escape their vigilance.

"I have given the League my word, not to serve against it for fourteen days; how can I remain, therefore, in Wurtemberg?"

"Do you call that fighting for Wurtemberg, if you only travel peaceably on the roads? In fourteen days, did you say? Do they think the war will be over in fourteen days? Many a head will be broken against the walls of Tubingen long after that time. Come with me; it is not against your oath."

"And what shall I do in Wurtemberg?" cried Albert: "shall I go and see my old companions in arms reaping glory under the walls of the fortresses? shall I go and meet the colours of the League again, to which I have bid an eternal farewell? No; I will return to my home in Franconia, and bury myself among its walls, and dream how happy I might have been."

"That is a fine determination for a young man of your spirit and determination? Have you no other interest in Wurtemberg than to wish to storm the tottering castles of the Duke? Well, go, in G.o.d's name!"

continued the countryman, looking at Albert with a cunning smile; "but just try for once whether the ancient castle of Lichtenstein may not be taken by storm?"

The young man blushed deeply; and said, half angrily, half smiling, "I don't like your joke."