The Banished Part 8

"G.o.d forbid! I congratulate you with all my heart," answered Dieterick, somewhat subdued by the determined look of the young man. "But, by the powers, I call that an entire case of _veni_, _vidi_, _vici_. I have been trying my luck with the beauty for more than a quarter of a year, and I can scarcely boast of one kind look from her during the whole time."

"Forgive the joke, cousin, which we have played upon you," said Marie; "be reasonable, and let me explain the matter." She then gave him to understand, why Albert and he had been invited into the garden, and begged him to be silent upon the subject before Bertha's father. He was softened into compliance by the kind look of Marie, upon condition, that she would submit also to the same ordeal her cousin had just undergone.

Marie gently repelled his unmannerly request, and, by way of teazing him, asked him again at the garden door the natural history of a violet, the first of the season. He was kind enough to give her a long and learned dissertation upon the subject, without allowing himself to be interrupted by the noise of a rustling silk dress or clattering sword. A grateful look from Bertha, a friendly shake of the hand from Marie, rewarded him at parting; and long floated the veils of the pretty cousins over the garden hedge, as their eyes followed the path of the young men.

CHAPTER VIII.

"In the still cloister's solitary grove, A maiden walk'd, and thought upon her love; The virgin moon, as if in mockery, Shed forth her splendour on her misery, And the bright l.u.s.tre of the beams that fell Lit up the tears that coursed her cheek so pale."

L. UHLAND.

During the following days, Ulm resembled a large camp. Instead of the peaceable peasant, the busy citizens, pa.s.sing, as in ordinary times, through the streets with sober tranquil step to their several avocations, were now to be seen strange figures, with helmets and caps of iron, carrying lances, cross bows and fire-arms. In lieu of statesmen in their plain black dresses, proud knights clad in steel, and wearing helmets adorned with waving plumes, strode about the squares and market places, accompanied by numerous bands of followers.

Still more animated was this warlike scene without the gates of the town. In an open s.p.a.ce on the banks of the Danube, Sickingen was exercising his cavalry, whilst, in a large flax-field towards the village of Soeflingen, Fronsberg was occupied in man[oe]uvring his infantry.

One fine morning, about three or four days after Bertha von Lichtenstein had left Ulm with her father, an immense concourse of people were a.s.sembled in the above field, to witness Fronsberg's infantry going through their evolutions. They looked upon this man, whose military reputation had long preceded him, with not less interest than we should, perhaps, were we to see the imperial or royal son of Mars performing the part of a field marshal. The state of an army depends in great measure on the character and experience of its leader; and we are more or less interested in the accounts given in history, or the public papers, of battles, according to the renown of the general who fought them. Such might have been the motive, which induced the inhabitants of Ulm on that morning to quit their narrow streets, to see the celebrated man of the day, employed in his military occupations.

The dexterity with which he kept his men in solid ma.s.ses, who before were accustomed to fight in scattered bodies; the celerity with which they moved on all sides at his word, or closed together, producing a formidable array of pikes and fire-arms; his powerful voice, which even rose above the noise of the drums, and his n.o.ble warlike figure, formed a sight so novel and attractive, that even the citizen most fond of his ease, was tempted to pa.s.s a long forenoon on foot, to enjoy the spectacle.

The general appeared, on this morning, more cheerful and friendly than usual. The warm interest which the good people of Ulm took in him, and which was visibly depicted on every countenance, perhaps produced this feeling; or perhaps he felt himself happier when engaged in military exercises, than confined to the cold narrow streets. Whatever might have been the cause, the crowd took his gay mood in such good part, that each individual thought himself specially noticed and saluted by him as he pa.s.sed, and the cheer, "A gallant man, a brave knight!"

followed his path.

But there was a certain spot, to which his attention appeared to be more particularly drawn; for, every time he rode by it, he was observed to salute some one, either with his sword or hand, and to nod familiarly. Those in the rear of the spectators stood upon tiptoes to find out the object of his friendly nod, those in front looked inquisitively at each other, wondering who the favoured one could be, as none of the a.s.sembled citizens thought themselves worthy of the honor. When Fronsberg pa.s.sed the same spot again, and repeated his salutation, an hundred heads were on the stretch to satisfy their curiosity, and they discovered that it was directed to a tall slim young man, who stood in the front rank of the spectators. His jacket of fine cloth, slashed with silk, the high feather in his cap playing in the morning breeze, his long sword and his scarf or sash, distinguished him as a man of quality from among his surrounding neighbours, who were less adorned than he was, and whose diminutive stature and broad faces did not set them off to the best advantage beside him.

The good townsfolk felt hurt that the young man did not appear flattered by the high favour conferred on him in their very presence.

His att.i.tude, also, standing there as he did, with sunken head, and his arms folded across his breast, they thought did not betoken good breeding, so especially noticed as he was by an old warrior. Besides which, the salutation of the general seemed to spread confusion over his countenance, for he returned it by a slight inclination of the head only, and followed it with a gloomy though friendly look.

"That gentleman must be a strange fellow," said the chief of the Ulm weavers to his neighbour, a st.u.r.dy armourer; "I would give my Sunday jacket for such a salute from Fronsberg; but he scarcely notices it.

Would it not be the inquiry of the whole town, what has Fronsberg done to Master Kohler, that he did not return his salute, for they were lately like two brothers? 'Oh! they are long acquainted,' would be the answer, 'they knew each other from their youth up.' But it vexes me much, that so sensible and superior a man should salute such an apparent c.o.xcomb."

The armourer, a little old fellow, nodded a.s.sent to his friend's remark. "May G.o.d punish me, but you are right, Master Kohler. There are many other people here, whom he might have noticed. The burgomaster is on the ground, and my G.o.dfather Hans von Besserer, who lives in the corner house, stands among the crowd also,--both as good as that youngster! If I were his master, I would soon teach him to bend his head, though he looks to me, as if it would require an emperor to make him do so. He must be a man of some consequence, for the secretary to the council, my neighbour in town, who is otherwise an enemy to receiving guests, has given him a lodging in his own house."

"Kraft?" asked the weaver, astonished; "but stop, there may be something in it. He must be a young n.o.bleman, or, likely enough, the son of the burgomaster of Cologne, who intends to join the army also.

Is that not old John, Kraft's servant, standing there?"

"Yes, that's him," said the armourer, whose curiosity was excited by the weaver's inquiry: "it is him; and I will stand confessor to him, in spite of the provost of Elchingen." But though the s.p.a.ce between the two citizens and Kraft's servant was small, the smith could not accost him, on account of the density of the crowd. The important bearing, however, of the chief of the weavers among his brother tradesmen, for he was rich, and respected in the town, enabled him to force his way, and he succeeded in getting possession of John, and forthwith conducted him to the armourer. Old John, when questioned, could not give them much information on the subject of their inquiry; all he could say was, that his master's guest was a Herr von Sturmfeder, and that he could not have come from any great distance, as he had only one horse, and no servant. "But my master will get the worst of it," he said, "for our old Sabina is as furious as a dragon, because he has destroyed the economy of the house by inviting a stranger, booted and spurred, without consulting her."

"No offence," interrupted the chief of the weavers, "but your master, John, is a fool! I would have thrown that old witch--G.o.d forgive me!--long ago out of the window. The gentleman has already arrived at years of discretion, and why does he allow himself to be treated as if he were still in swaddling clothes?"

"You have spoken well, Master Kohler," answered the old servant, "but you don't understand matters properly. Throw her into the street, indeed! who would take care of the house, then, I should like to know?"

"Who," cried the inflamed weaver, "who? he should take a wife, a housekeeper, as other Christians and citizens do. Why does he remain a bachelor, and run after all the young girls in the town? Did I not catch him, not long ago, saying pretty things to our Katharine? I should like to have thrown my looms, beams and all, at his worship's head; but when I recollected, that his good mother had many a good piece of linen wove by me, I was obliged to take off my cap, and say, 'An humble good evening, and has your honour any commands?' May the----"

"Upon my word," said John, with a displeased look, "I have always thought that a gentleman, like my master, the secretary to the grand council of state, might exchange a word in all honour with your daughter, without the wicked world----"

"Really! exchange a word! and after vesper bell in March! He will not marry her, nevertheless; and do you suppose the reputation of my daughter must not be kept as clean as the white cravat of your master?

I should like to know that!" Master Kohler's voice during this conversation was raised to so high a pitch as to draw the attention of the bystanders, and having grasped Old John by the collar, there was no saying what might have been the consequences, had not the master smith dragged the querulous couple away by force, and separated them. He thereby quelled the dispute, but he could not stop the report, which was speedily circulated through the whole town, that Old John, having an intrigue in his old age with Master Kohler's young daughter, had been brought to an account by her angry father, in the open field.

The man[oe]uvres of the infantry were by this time at an end, the crowd separated, and the young man, who had been the original cause of the foregoing conversation, was observed to bend his way also towards the town. His step was slow, and undecided; his face looked paler than usual, his eyes sought the ground, or wandered occasionally, with an expression of silent grief, towards the distant blue mountains, the boundaries of Wurtemberg. Albert von Sturmfeder had never felt so unhappy as in these moments. Bertha had left Ulm with her father; she had made him swear again to be faithful to his promise, an act which he unavailingly felt to create a lurking regret in his breast. It had cost him no small struggle at the time, to consent to her wishes, but the overwhelming pain at parting from her, and the grief exhibited by the beloved girl, had mastered every feeling but that of desire to soothe the agony of her mind. His position was now one of extreme difficulty, when he calmly considered his future plans. To crush in the bud all those golden dreams and bright hopes of glory and honour, with which he thought to render himself worthy the hand of the daughter of Lichtenstein, was nothing, he felt, compared with the disgrace and contempt, which he must expect to meet at the hands of men, whose esteem was dear to him, for having deserted their colours, at a moment when the struggle was about to commence. How could he give a reason, or find words sufficiently convincing, to justify his conduct, before that gallant old friend of his father, Breitenstein? How could he appear before the n.o.ble Fronsberg? Ah, that friendly salute, with which he appeared to encourage the son of his brave companion in arms, produced a thousand torments. His father had fallen by his side, and he had heard him, in his dying moments, bequeath to his orphan child the renown of his name and a brilliant example, as his sole inheritance.

Before this man, who, mindful of his father's bequest, had kindly opened to him a path which would lead to the accomplishment of his parent's wishes, he must now appear in very doubtful light.

Troubled with these gloomy forebodings, he had slowly approached the gate of the town, when he was suddenly seized by the arm, and turning around, a man, to appearance a peasant, stood before him.

"What is your business with me?" asked Albert, rather angrily, annoyed at being disturbed in his musing.

"My answer will depend upon whether you are the person I am looking for," answered the man. "Tell me, what belongs to _Licht_ and _Sturm_?"

Albert was astonished at this singular question, and observed him more closely. He was not very tall, but strongly built, broad-chested, and of mean appearance. His face, much tanned by the sun, might have pa.s.sed as plain and insignificant to a superficial observer, but, upon a narrower inspection, there was a certain expression about the eyes and mouth which, in addition to cunning and acuteness, bespoke daring and audacity. His hair and beard were dark yellow, and smooth; he carried a long dagger or knife in his leathern girdle; in one hand he held an axe, in the other a low round leathern cap, such as the Swabian peasant of the present day wears.

Whilst Albert made these hasty observations, he narrowly watched the expression of his features.

"Perhaps you did not thoroughly understand me, sir knight," continued the other, after a short silence; "so I will explain myself more fully.

Let me ask, what should be added to _Sturm_ and _Licht_, to form two n.o.ble names?"

"_Feder_ and _stein_," answered the young man, to whom it was immediately clear, what was to be understood by the question; "but what is your business?"

"So you are Albert von Sturmfeder?" said the other; "and I come from Bertha von----"

"For heaven's sake be silent, friend; mention no names," said Albert; "tell me quickly, have you got any thing for me?"

"A note, sir," said the peasant; when, unbuckling a broad black leather band, wound under his knee, he produced a small strip of parchment.

Albert took the parchment with hasty joy; there were a few words written on it with black shining ink. It appeared to have cost some trouble to the writer, and proved that the young ladies of 1519 were not so ready with their pen, to express their tender feelings, as those of the present day, when every village beauty can write an epistle to her swain as long as her garter. The chronicle whence we have taken this history, has happily preserved every word of the confused traces on the parchment, which Albert's greedy eye now speedily deciphered as follows:

"Remember your oath--fly bytimes. G.o.d conduct thee. Your Bertha----to eternity."

These few words expressed a pious, tender feeling, dictated by a loving heart. No wonder then that Albert was for some moments lost in a state of joyous intoxication. He sent a look of grat.i.tude toward the distant blue mountains in the direction of Lichtenstein, and thanked his love for the consolation these lines afforded him, for truly, never had he stood so much in need of comfort, as at this moment. He was now convinced, that a being, the dearest that existed in the world to him, had not forsaken him. His heart resumed its usual cheerfulness, he proffered his hand to the trusty messenger, thanked him cordially, and asked him how he came by the strip of parchment.

"Did not I know," he answered, "that that little sc.r.a.p of paper contained no evil enchantment, for the young lady smiled most kindly as she pressed it into my rough hand! I came to Blaubeuren last Wednesday, where our army is encamped. There is a magnificent high altar in the convent church there, over which the history of my patron, John the Baptist, is represented. About seven years ago, when I was in great distress of mind, and upon the point of suffering an ignominious death, I made a vow, to perform a pilgrimage to the spot every year about this time. I have never neglected this duty, having been saved from the hangman's hand, by a miracle performed by my saint. When I have finished my prayers, I always go to the abbot to present my offering of a couple of fine geese or a lamb, or any thing else he may prefer. But, sir, you will be tired with my gossip."

"No, no,--go on," said Albert; "come, sit down on that bench, beside me."

"That would not be proper," answered the messenger; "for a common peasant to place himself beside a gentleman, whom the general took such notice of before all the people this morning, would be out of all character: I would rather stand, with your permission." Albert seated himself on the stone bench by the road side, and the countryman, leaning on his axe, went on with his story. "I had little inclination to prosecute my pilgrimage in these unsettled times, but it is said, an unfulfilled oath is displeasing to the Almighty; so I was obliged to perform my vow. This year, when I rose from my prayer, and, as usual, was going to present my offering to the abbot, one of the priests told me, I could not go to his reverence this time, because many n.o.bles and knights were waiting on him; but I insisted on it, for I knew the abbot to be a kind benevolent man, and he would have been displeased, had I gone away without seeing him. Should you ever visit the convent, don't forget to notice a long and narrow staircase leading from the high altar to the dormitory, through a thick wall, which separates it from the church. There it was that the lady met me. She approached me, a delicate-formed female, descending the stairs, covered with a long veil, with breviary and rosary in her hands. I pressed myself close to the wall, to allow her to pa.s.s, but she stood still, and said, 'Well, Hans, whither are you going?'"

"But how did the lady know you?" Albert interrupted him.

"My sister is her nurse, and----"

"How, is old Rosel your sister?" said the young man.

"Do you know her also?" said the messenger, "only think! but let me proceed. I was very happy to see her again, for I visited my sister often in Lichtenstein, and I have known the young lady, ever since she was taught to walk with the help of her father's sword belt. I should scarcely have known her again, she is grown so much, but her rosy cheeks have disappeared, like the snow on the first day of May. I don't know how it was, but I was so much struck by her looks, that I could not help asking her if any thing was the matter with her, and whether I could render her any a.s.sistance. She thought for a moment, and then said, 'Yes, Hans, if you can be discreet you may indeed render me a very great service!' I promised, and she appointed a meeting after vespers."

"But how is it, that she is in the convent?" Albert asked; "for formerly no female foot dared cross its threshold."

"The abbot is a friend of her father's, and as there are so many people in Blaubeuren at present, she is in greater safety in the convent than in the town, where strange things come to pa.s.s. After vespers, therefore, when all was quiet, I stole softly into the cloister, and met her. I cheered her sunken spirits, as well as we peasants know how to do, when she gave me that strip of parchment, and bid me find you out."

"I thank you heartily, good Hans," said Albert; "but is that all she charged you with?"

"No," answered the messenger; "she moreover commissioned me to tell you, by word of mouth, to be upon your guard, for there was a plot laid against you."