Isentrude sat with her, and said it was fearful!beyond blasphemy! and that she looked like a Bible witch, sitting up drinking and swearing and glaring in her nightclothes and nightcap. She was on a journey into Hungary, and claimed the hospitality of the castle on her way there. Both were widows. Well, it was a quarter to twelve. The Electress dropped back on her pillow, as she always did when she had finished the candle. Isentrude covered her over, heaped up logs on the fire, wrapped her dressing-gown about her, and prepared to sleep. It was Winter, and the wind howled at the doors, and rattled the windows, and shook the arrasLord help us! Outside was all snow, and nothing but forest; as you saw when you came to me there, Gretelchen. Twelve struck. Isentrude was dozing; but she says that after the last stroke she woke with cold. A foggy chill hung in the room. She looked at the Electress, who had not moved. The fire burned feebly, and seemed weighed upon: Herr Je!she thought she heard a noise. No. Quite quiet! As heaven preserve her, says slip, the smell in that room grew like an open grave, clammily putrid. Holy Virgin! This time she was certain she heard a noise; but it seemed on both sides of her. There was the great door leading to the first landing and state-room; and opposite exactly there was the panel of the secret passage. The noises seemed to advance as if step by step, and grew louder in each ear as she stood horrified on the marble of the hearth. She looked at the Electress again, and her eyes were wide open; but for all Isentrudes calling, she would not wake. Only think! Now the noise increased, and was a regular tramp-grate, tramp-screw sound-coming nearer and nearer: Saints of mercy! The apartment was choking with vapours. Isentrude made a dart, and robed herself behind a curtain of the bed just as the two doors opened. She could see through a slit in the woven work, and winked her eyes which she had shut close on hearing the scream of the door-hingeswinked her eyes to catch a sight for momentwe are such sinful, curious creatures!What she saw then, she says she shall never forget; nor I! As she was a living woman, there she saw the two dead princes, the Prince Palatine of Bohemia and the Elector of Bavaria, standing front to front at the foot of the bed, all in white armour, with drawn swords, and attendants holding pine-torches. Neither of them spoke. Their vizors were down; but she knew them by their arms and bearing: both tall, stately presences, good knights in their day, and had fought against the Infidel! So one of them pointed to the bed, and then a torch was lowered, and the fight commenced. Isentrude saw the sparks fly, and the steel struck till it was shattered; but they fought on, not caring for wounds, and snorting with fury as they grew hotter. They fought a whole hour. The poor girl was so eaten up with looking on, that she let go the curtain and stood quite exposed among them. So, to steady herself, she rested her hand on the bed-side; andthink what she felta hand as cold as ice locked hers, and get from it she could not! That instant one of the princes fell. It was Bohmen. Bayern sheathed his sword, and waved his hand, and the attendants took up the slaughtered ghost, feet and shoulders, and bore him to the door of the secret passage, while Bayern strode after
Shameful! exclaimed Margarita. I will speak to Berthold as he descends. I hear him coming. He shall do what I wish.
Call it dreadful, Grete! Dreadful it was. If Berthold would like to sit and hearAh! she is gone. A good girl! and of a levity only on the surface.
Aunt Lisbeth heard Margaritas voice rapidly addressing Berthold. His reply was low and brief. Refuses to listen to anything of the sort, Aunt Lisbeth interpreted it. Then he seemed to be pleading, and Margarita uttering short answers. I trust tis nothing a maiden should not hear, the little lady exclaimed with a sigh.
The door opened, and Lieschen stood at the entrance.
For Fraulein Margarita, she said, holding a letter halfway out.
Give it, Aunt Lisbeth commanded.
The woman hesitatedTis for the Fraulein.
Give it, I tell thee! and Aunt Lisbeth eagerly seized the missive, and subjected it to the ordeal of touch. It was heavy, and contained something hard. Long pensive pressures revealed its shape on the paper. It was an arrow. Go! said she to the woman, and, once alone, began, bee-like, to buzz all over it, and finally entered. It contained Margaritas Silver Arrow. The art of that girl! And the writing said:
SWEETEST MAIDEN!
By this arrow of our betrothal, I conjure thee to meet me in all haste without the western gate, where, burning to reveal to thee most urgent tidings that may not be confided to paper, now waits, petitioning the saints, thy
FARINA.Aunt Lisbeth placed letter and arrow in a drawer; locked it; and always thought so. She ascended the stairs to consult with Gottlieb. Roars of laughter greeted her just as she lifted the latch, and she retreated abashed.
There was no time to lose. Farina must be caught in the act of waiting for Margarita, and by Gottlieb, or herself. Gottlieb was revelling. May this be a warning to thee, Gottlieb, murmured Lisbeth, as she hooded her little body in Margaritas fur-cloak, and determined that she would be the one to confound Farina.
Five minutes later Margarita returned. Aunt Lisbeth was gone. The dragon still lacked a tip to his forked tongue, and a stream of fiery threads dangled from the jaws of the monster. Another letter was brought into the room by Lieschen.
For Aunt Lisbeth, said Margarita, reading the address. Who can it be from?
She does not stand pressing about your letters, said the woman; and informed Margarita of the foregoing missive.
You say she drew an arrow from it? said Margarita, with burning face. Who brought this? tell me! and just waiting to hear it was Farinas mother, she tore the letter open, and read:
DEAREST LISBETH!
Thy old friend writes to thee; she that has scarce left eyes to see the words she writes. Thou knowest we are a fallen house, through the displeasure of the Emperor on my dead husband. My son, Farina, is my only stay, and well returns to me the blessings I bestow upon him. Some call him idle: some think him too wise. I swear to thee, Lisbeth, he is only good. His hours are devoted to the extraction of essencesto no black magic. Now he is in trouble-in prison. The shadow that destroyed his dead father threatens him. Now, by our old friendship, beloved Lisbeth! intercede with Gottlieb, that he may plead for my son before the Emperor when he comes
Margarita read no more. She went to the window, and saw her guard marshalled outside. She threw a kerchief over her head, and left the house by the garden gate.
THE MONK
By this time the sun stood high over Cologne. The market-places were crowded with buyers and sellers, mixed with a loitering swarm of soldiery, for whose thirsty natures winestalls had been tumbled up. Barons and knights of the empire, bravely mounted and thickly followed, poured hourly into Cologne from South Germany and North. Here, staring Suabians, and round-featured warriors of the East Kingdom, swaggered up and down, patting what horses came across them, for lack of occupation for their hands. Yonder, huge Pomeranians, with bosks of beard stiffened out square from the chin, hurtled mountainous among the peaceable inhabitants. Troopers dismounted went straddling, in tight hose and loose, prepared to drink good-will to whomsoever would furnish the best quality liquor for that solemn pledge, and equally ready to pick a quarrel with them that would not. It was a scene of flaring feathers, wide-flapped bonnets, flaunting hose, blue and battered steel plates, slashed woollen haunch-bags, leather-leggings, ensigns, and imperious boots and shoulders. Margarita was too hurried in her mind to be conscious of an imprudence; but her limbs trembled, and she instinctively quickened her steps. When she stood under the sign of the Three Holy Kings, where dwelt Farinas mother, she put up a fervent prayer of thanks, and breathed freely.
I had expected a message from Lisbeth, said Frau Farina; but thou, good heart! thou wilt help us?
All that may be done by me I will do, replied Margarita; but his mother yearns to see him, and I have come to bear her company.
The old lady clasped her hands and wept.
Has he found so good a friend, my poor boy! And trust me, dear maiden, he is not unworthy, for better son never lived, and good son, good all! Surely we will go to him, but not as thou art. I will dress thee. Such throngs are in the streets: I heard them clattering in early this morning. Rest, dear heart, till I return.
Margarita had time to inspect the single sitting-room in which her lover lived. It was planted with bottles, and vases, and pipes, and cylinders, piling on floor, chair, and table. She could not suppress a slight surprise of fear, for this display showed a dealing with hidden things, and a summoning of scattered spirits. It was this that made his brow so pale, and the round of his eye darker than youth should let it be! She dismissed the feeling, and assumed her own bright face as Dame Farina reappeared, bearing on her arm a convent garb, and other apparel. Margarita suffered herself to be invested in the white and black robes of the denial of life.
There! said the Frau Farina, and to seal assurance, I have engaged a guard to accompany us. He was sorely bruised in a street combat yesterday, and was billeted below, where I nursed and tended him, and he is grateful, as man should be-though I did little, doing my utmostand with him near us we have nought to fear.
Good, said Margarita, and they kissed and departed. The guard was awaiting them outside.
Come, my little lady, and with thee the holy sister! Tis no step from here, and I gage to bring ye safe, as sure as my names Schwartz Thier!Hey? The good sisters dropping. Look, now! Ill carry her.
Margarita recovered her self-command before he could make good this offer.
Only let us hasten there, she gasped.
The Thier strode on, and gave them safe-conduct to the prison where Farina was confined, being near one of the outer forts of the city.
Thank and dismiss him, whispered Margarita.
Nay! he will wait-wilt thou not, friend! We shall not be long, though it is my son I visit here, said Frau Farina.
Till to-morrow morning, my little lady! The lion thanked him that plucked the thorn from his foot, and the Thier may be black, but hes not ungrateful, nor a worse beast than the lion.
They entered the walls and left him.
For the first five minutes Schwartz Thier found employment for his faculties by staring at the shaky, small-paned windows of the neighbourhood. He persevered in this, after all novelty had been exhausted, from an intuitive dread of weariness. There was nothing to see. An old woman once bobbed out of an attic, and doused the flints with water. Harassed by increasing dread of the foul nightmare of nothing-to-do, the Thier endeavoured to establish amorous intelligence with her. She responded with an indignant projection of the underjaw, evanishing rapidly. There was no resource left him but to curse her with extreme heartiness. The Thier stamped his right leg, and then his left, and remembered the old woman as a grievance five minutes longer. When she was clean forgotten, he yawned. Another spouse of the moment was wanted, to be wooed, objurgated, and regretted. The prison-gate was in a secluded street. Few passengers went by, and those who did edged away from the ponderous, wanton-eyed figure of lazy mischief lounging there, as neatly as they well could. The Thier hailed two or three. One took to his legs, another bowed, smirked, gave him a kindly good-day, and affected to hear no more, having urgent business in prospect. The Thier was a faithful dog, but the temptation to betray his trust and pursue them was mighty. He began to experience an equal disposition to cry and roar. He hummed a ballad
I swore of her Id have my will,
And with him Id have my way:
I learnd my cross-bow over the hill:
Now what does my lady say?
Give me the good old cross-bow, after all, and none of these lumbering puff-and-bangs that knock you down oftener than your man!
A cross stands in the forest still,
And a cross in the churchyard grey:
My curse on him who had his will,
And on him who had his way!
Good beginning, bad ending! Tisnt so always. Many a cross has the cross-bow built, they say. I wish I had mine, now, to peg off that old woman, or somebody. Id swear shes peeping at me over the gable, or behind some cranny. Theyre curious, the old women, curse em! And the young, for that matter. Devil a young one here.
When Im in for the sack of a town,
What, think ye, I poke after, up and down?
Silver and gold I pocket in plenty,
But the sweet tit-bit is my lass under twenty.
I should like to be in for the sack of this Cologne. Id nose out that pretty girl I was cheated of yesterday. Take the gold and silver, and give me the maiden! Her necks silver, and her hair gold. Ah! and her cheeks roses, and her mouth-say no more! Im half thinking Werner, the hungry animal, has cast wolfs eyes on her. They say he spoke of her last night. Dont let him thwart me. Thunderblast him! I owe him a grudge. Hes beginning to forget my plan o life.
A flight of pigeons across the blue top of the street abstracted the Thier from these reflections. He gaped after them in despair, and fell to stretching and shaking himself, rattling his lungs with loud reports. As he threw his eyes round again, they encountered those of a monk opposite fastened on him in penetrating silence. The Thier hated monks as a wild beast shuns fire; but now even a monk was welcome.
Halloo! he sung out.
The monk crossed over to him.
Friend! said he, weariness is teaching thee wantonness. Wilt thou take service for a nights work, where the danger is little, the reward lasting?
As for that, replied the Thier, danger comes to me like greenwood to the deer, and good pay never yet was given in promises. But Im bound for the next hour to womankind within there. Theyre my masters; as theyve been of tough fellows before me.
I will seek them, and win their consent, said the monk, and so left him.
Quick dealing! thought the Thier, and grew brisker. The Baron wont want me to-night: and what if he does? Let him hang himselfthough, if he should, twill be a pity Im not by to help him.
He paced under the wall to its farthest course. Turning back, he perceived the monk at the gateway.
A sharp hand! thought the Thier.
Intrude no question on me, the monk began; but hold thy peace and follow: the women release thee, and gladly.
Thats not my plan o life, now! Money down, and then command me: and Schwartz Thier stood with one foot forward, and hand stretched out.
A curl of scorn darkened the cold features of the monk.
He slid one hand into a side of his frock above the girdle, and tossed a bag of coin.
Take it, if tis in thee to forfeit the greater blessing, he cried contemptuously.
The Thier peeped into the bag, and appeared satisfied.
I follow, said he; lead on, good father, and Ill be in the track of holiness for the first time since my mother was quit of me.