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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c6b3e83 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #50325 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50325) diff --git a/old/50325-8.txt b/old/50325-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 405d734..0000000 --- a/old/50325-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16269 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Castle of Ehrenstein, by George Payne Rainsford James - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Castle of Ehrenstein - Its Lords Spiritual and Temporal; Its Inhabitants Earthly and Unearthly - -Author: George Payne Rainsford James - -Release Date: October 27, 2015 [EBook #50325] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CASTLE OF EHRENSTEIN *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (the Bavarian State Library) - - - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - 1. Page scan source: - https://books.google.com/books?id=1vhLAAAAcAAJ - (the Bavarian State Library) - - - - - - -COLLECTION - -OF - -BRITISH AUTHORS. - -VOL. CXV. - ---------- - -THE CASTLE OF EHRENSTEIN BY G. P. R. JAMES. - -IN ONE VOLUME. - - - - - - -THE - -CASTLE OF EHRENSTEIN; - -ITS LORDS - -SPIRITUAL AND TEMPORAL; - -ITS INHABITANTS - -EARTHLY AND UNEARTHLY. - -BY - -G. P. R. JAMES. - - - -_COPYRIGHT EDITION FOR CONTINENTAL CIRCULATION_. - - - -LEIPZIG - -BERNH. TAUCHNITZ JUN. - -1847. - - - - - - -EHRENSTEIN. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - -It was an awfully dark and tempestuous night; the wind howled in fury -through the trees, and round the towers; the large drops of rain -dashed against the casements, the small lozenges of glass rattled and -clattered in their leaden frames, and the thick boards of the oaken -floor heaved and shivered under the force of the tempest. From time to -time a keen blue streak of lightning crossed the descending deluge, -and for an instant the great black masses of the forest, and the high -and broken rocks around, appeared like spectres of a gone-by world, -and sank into Egyptian darkness again, almost as soon as seen; and -then the roar of the thunder was added to the scream of the blast, -seeming to shake the whole building to its foundation. - -In the midst of this storm, and towards one o'clock in the morning, a -young man, of about one-and-twenty years of age, took his way -silently, and with a stealthy step, through the large old halls and -long passages of the castle of Ehrenstein. His dress was that of one -moving in the higher ranks of society, but poor for his class; and -though the times were unusually peaceful, he wore a heavy sword by his -side, and a poniard hanging by a ring from his girdle. Gracefully yet -powerfully formed, his frame afforded the promise of great future -strength, and his face, frank and handsome without being strictly -beautiful, owed perhaps more to the expression than to the features. -He carried a small brazen lamp in his hand, and seemed bound upon some -grave and important errand, for his countenance was serious and -thoughtful, his eyes generally bent down, and his step quick, -although, as we have said, light and cautious. - -The room that he quitted was high up in the building, and, descending -by a narrow and steep staircase, formed of large square blocks of oak, -with nothing but a rope to steady the steps, he entered a long wide -corridor below, flanked on one side by tall windows like those of a -church, and on the other by numerous small doors. The darkness was so -profound that, at first, the rays of the lamp only served to dissipate -the obscurity immediately around it, while the rest of the corridor -beyond looked like the mouth of a yawning interminable vault, filled -with gloom and shadows. The next moment, however, as he advanced, a -blazing sheet of electric flame glanced over the windows, displaying -their long line upon the right, and the whole interior of the -corridor. Here and there an old suit of armour caught the light, and -the grotesque figures on two large antique stone benches seemed to -grin and gibber in the flame. Still the young man walked on, pausing -only for one moment at a door on the left, and looking up at it with a -smile somewhat melancholy. - -At the end of the corridor, on the left, he came to a larger staircase -than that which he had before descended, and going cautiously down, -and through some other passages, he found himself in a small -vestibule, with two doors on either hand. They were of various -dimensions, but all studded with large nails, and secured by thick -bands of iron; and turning to the largest of the four, he quietly -lifted the latch, and pushed it open. The wind, as he did so, had -nearly blown out the lamp, and in suddenly shading it with his hand, -he let slip the ponderous mass of woodwork, which was blown back -against its lintels with a dull clang, which echoed far away through -the vaulted passages of the castle. - -The young man paused and listened, apparently fearful that his -proceedings might be noticed; but then, as all was silent till a loud -peal of thunder again shook the ear of night, he opened the door once -more, carefully shading the lamp with his cloak. Then, closing the -door gently behind him, he turned a large key that was in the lock, -seemingly to ensure that he should not be followed. He was now in a -vast old hall, which seemed to have been long unused, for there were -manifold green stains upon the stone pavement, no customary rushes -strewed the floor, no benches stood at the sides, and the table, at -which many a merry meal had passed, was no longer to be seen. A number -of torn and dusty banners and pennons, on the lances which had borne -them to the field, waved overhead, as the wind, which found its way -through many a broken lozenge in the casements, played amongst these -shreds of departed glories. A whispering sound came from them -likewise, and to an imaginative mind like that of the youth who walked -on beneath them, some of the rustling banners seemed to ask, "Whither, -whither?" and others to answer, "To dust, to dust." - -In the middle of the hall he paused and thought. A degree of -hesitation appeared to come over him; and then, murmuring "It must be -all nonsense; but, true or not, I have promised, and I will go," he -walked forward to another door at the far end of the hall, much -smaller than that by which he had entered. Apparently, it had not been -opened for a long time, as a pile of dust lay thick, against it. There -was no key in the lock, and it seemed fastened from the other side. -After pushing it, however, to see if it would give way, the young man -drew forth a key, saying to himself, "Perhaps this opens all," and -applying it, after some examination of the key-hole, he turned it, and -threw back the door. Then holding up the lamp ere he entered, he gazed -into the space before him. It was a low narrow passage in the -stone-work, with no windows, or even loopholes, perceptible; but yet -the damp found its way in, for the walls were glistening all over with -unwholesome slime. The pavement, too, if pavement indeed there was at -all, was covered thickly with a coating of black mould, from which, -every here and there, sprang up a crop of pale sickly fungi covered -with noxious dew, spreading a sort of faint, unpleasant, odour around. - -So foul, and damp, and gloomy looked the place, that it evidently -required an effort of resolution on the young man's part to enter; but -after pausing for a moment he did so, and closed and locked the door -behind him; then turning round, he looked on, still holding up the -lamp, as if he expected to see some fearful object in the way: all was -vacant, however, and as the faint rays of light dispersed the -darkness, he could perceive another door at the end of the passage, -some twenty yards in advance. It, when he reached it, was found -unfastened, and on drawing it back--for it opened inwards--the top of -a flight of stone steps was before him, descending, apparently, into a -well. - -It was no faint heart that beat within his bosom, but those were days -in which existed a belief almost universal in things which our more -material times reject as visionary; or which, at least, are only -credited by a few, who can see no reason why, in the scheme of -creation, there should not be means of communication between the -spiritual and the corporeal, or why the bond of mortal life once -dissolved, the immortal tenant of the fleshly body should not still -feel some interest in the things of earth, amongst which it moved so -long, and have the power and the permission to make its presence felt -for warning and for guidance. It is very different to feel an awe and -a dread in any undertaking, and to shrink from executing it. The young -man did feel awe, for he was going in solitude and the midst of night -into places where mortal foot rarely trod, where every association and -every object was connected with dark and dreary memories, and with -still more gloomy anticipations--the memorials of the dead, the -mouldering ruins of fellow-men, the records of the tomb, the picture -of all that warm existence comes to in the end. He stopped for a -moment there, and gazed down into the dark void below, but the next -instant, with a slow and careful foot upon the wet and slippery steps, -he began the descent. The air, which was sultry above, felt cold and -chilling as he descended, and the lamp burned dim, with a diminished -flame, from the impure vapours that seemed congregated in the place. -Each step, too, produced a hollow echo, ringing round, and decreasing -gradually in sound, both above and below, till it seemed as if voices -were whispering behind him and before him. Twice he paused to listen, -scarcely able to persuade himself that he did not hear tongues -speaking, but as he stopped the sound ceased, and again he proceeded -on his way. The square cut stones forming the shaft in which the -staircase turned, with the jointing only more clearly discernible from -the mortar having dropped out, soon gave way to the more solid masonry -of nature, and the rude rock, roughly hewn, was all that was left -around him, with the stairs still descending in the midst. A hundred -and seventeen steps, some of them perilous from decay, brought him, at -length, to the termination, with a door ajar at the foot. All was -darkness beyond, and though there seemed a freer air as he pulled the -door back, and the lamp burned up somewhat more clearly, yet the vast -gloomy expanse before him lost scarcely a particle of its gloom, as he -advanced with a beating heart, bearing the light in his hand. He was -unconscious of touching the door as he passed, but the moment he had -entered it swung slowly to, and a solemn clang echoed through the -vault. - -Laying his left hand on his dagger, he turned suddenly, and looked -behind him, but there was no one there, and he saw nothing but the -heavy stone walls and low groined arches, which seemed spreading out -interminably on either side. The next moment a bat fluttered across, -and swept his face with its cold dewy wing, nearly extinguishing the -lamp as it passed; and then, as he took a few steps forward, a low -voice asked, "Who is he?" - -"Who? who?" several other voices seemed to say; and then another -cried, "Hush!" - -The young man caught the lamp in his left hand, and half drew his -sword with his right, demanding aloud, "Who spoke?" There was no reply -but the echo of his own voice amidst the arches; and holding the lamp -before him, he turned to the side from which the first question seemed -to proceed, and thought he saw a figure standing in the dim obscurity, -at a few paces distance. "Who are you?" he cried, stepping forward, -but there the figure stood, grew more defined as the rays fell upon -it, and the eyeless grinning head, and long mouldy bones of a skeleton -appeared, bound with a rusty chain to a thick column. Instinctively he -started back, when he first discovered what the object was, and as he -did so, a low, wild, echoing laugh rang round through the arches on -every side, as if mocking the horror which his countenance expressed. -Nothing showed itself, however, and, ashamed of his own sensations, he -drew his sword out of the sheath, and walked quickly on. His path soon -became encumbered, and first he stumbled over a slimy skull, then trod -upon some bones that cranched under his feet, while strange -whisperings seemed to spread around him, till, with no light joy, he -saw the farther wall of the vault, with an open arch leading out into -some place beyond. When he had passed it, however, the scene was no -less sad and gloomy, for he seemed now in a vast building like a -chapel, where, ranged on either hand, were sepulchral monuments -covered with dust, and between them long piles of mouldering coffins, -with overhead a banner here and there, gauntlets, and swords, and -tattered surcoats, the hues of which could scarcely be distinguished -through the deep stains and mildew that covered them. Here frowned the -figure of a warrior in black marble, there lay another hewn in plain -stone; here stood a pile of coffins, with the velvet which once -covered them, and the gold with which they were fringed, all -mouldering in shreds, and offering a stern comment on the grossest of -human vanities, that tries to deck the grave with splendour, and -serves up the banquet of the worm in tinsel. When he had half passed -along the solemn avenue, he thought he heard a sound behind, and -turned to look, but there was nothing near except three small coffins -and the marble effigy of a lady kneeling in the attitude of prayer. -When he turned round again, a sudden light, blue and pale, like that -of the unconfirmed dawn, shone through the long arcades, wavered and -flickered round, as if moving from place to place, though whence it -proceeded he could not see; but as he strode on, it served to show him -a large snake, that darted from under the crumbling base of one of the -monuments, and glided on along the path before him, as if guiding him -on his way. - -"By Heaven! this is all very strange and horrible," he exclaimed, and -instantly there was a wild "whoop," coming from several parts of the -chapel. The pale light that shone around was extinguished, and nought -remained but the dim lamp in his own hand. - -He would not be turned back, however, but hurried only the more -quickly forward till he reached a door at the opposite side. It was -bolted within, but not locked; and pulling back the iron bar from the -staple, he rushed out, the strong gust of the night air and the -pattering drops of rain instantly extinguishing the lamp. A shrill -scream met his ear as the door swung to behind him; but nevertheless -he paused, and put his hand to his brow, with sensations in his bosom -which he had never felt before, and which he was ashamed to feel. - -While he thus stood a fierce flash of lightning blazed around, -dazzling his eyes for a moment, but serving to show him the exact -point of the rocky hill which he had now reached, and a path winding -on down the woody descent, narrow, rough, and stony, looking more as -if it had been traced by some torrent pouring down the side of the -slope, than by the foot of man. Along it he turned his steps, guided -by the trees and bushes, which rendered it impossible that he should -miss his way, till, nearly at the bottom of the hill, a faint light -shone before him from the window of what appeared a little chapel. - -"The good priest is watching for me," the young man said to himself; -and hurrying on he gained a small projecting point of the rock which -stood out clear from amongst the trees. Like many another jagged -fragment of crag in that wild country, it towered up above the -surrounding objects like a ruined outwork of the castle above, and -when he had climbed to the summit, the young wanderer turned to gaze -up at the building he had just left. All was dark and gloomy; not a -ray broke from window or loophole, except at one spot where a blaze -shone forth upon the night high up in the sky, shining red and hazy -through the tempestuous air, like some star of evil omen. But the -youth heeded not that light; he knew well that it was the beacon on -the highest pinnacle of the donjon, beside which, under shelter of the -watch-tower's roof, the weary sentinel was striving to keep himself -awake, perhaps in vain. The rest was all as obscure as the world -beyond the tomb, and satisfied that his going had not been marked, he -hurried on to the little chapel or hermitage, and lifted the latch. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - -The interior of the building into which the young man now entered, -afforded a strange contrast to the wild and fearful scenes through -which he had just passed. It was like life and death side by side--the -world and the grave; and the change struck him as much, or perhaps -more, than if the particulars had been reversed. It was a little cell, -dependent upon the neighbouring monastery, with a chapel attached to -it, dedicated to Our Lady; but the room into which the door -immediately led was one of the two dwelling-chambers of the priests, -who came up there in weekly turn to officiate at the chapel. It was -low-roofed and small; but, nevertheless, it had an air of comfort and -cheerfulness about it; and the large well-trimmed lamp showed the -whole extent, and left not one corner in obscurity. A little table -stood in the midst, with the good priest seated at it: a book open -before him, and another closed at his side; but besides these objects -of study or devotion, the table bore several things connected with our -corporeal comfort, which showed that at all events the chapel was not -a hermitage. There was a well-roasted capon, and two or three rolls or -small loaves of white bread--a rarity in that part of the country, and -at that time; and besides these, there appeared two or three neat -glasses with twisted stalks, and a capacious green bottle, large in -the bulb, flattened at the sides, and with a neck towering like a -minaret. It was a very promising vessel indeed, for its peculiar -shape, form, and thickness, were too expensive to be in general -bestowed upon bad wine; and the monks were supposed in those days, as -at present, to be very accurate judges of what was really good. - -Amongst the most cheerful things in the place, however, was the -countenance of the priest himself. He was a man of somewhat more than -sixty years of age, but fresh, firm, and unbroken, with a complexion -which, originally fair and smooth, seemed only to have grown fairer -and more smooth with years; and though the untonsured part of his hair -was as white as driven snow, his blue eye was as clear and bright as -in youth. His features were high and somewhat aquiline; his eyebrows -long and white; but that which denoted age more than aught else, was -the falling in of the lips by the sad ravages of time upon those -incessant plagues of life--the teeth. His countenance was a cheerful -and contented one; not without lines of thought, and perhaps of care; -but to the eye of one accustomed to read the character upon the face, -the expression would have indicated a temperament and disposition -naturally easy and good-humoured, without any want of mental energy -and activity. - -"Ah! Ferdinand," he said, as soon as he beheld his visitor, "you have -kept me long, my son, but that matters not--it is a terrible night, -and the way somewhat troublesome to find. But, all good angels! what -makes you look so pale, boy? Yours is not a cheek to turn white at a -flash of lightning. Sit down, sit down, my son, and refresh yourself. -See, I have provided for your entertainment." - -"The way is a terrible one, good Father," replied the young man, -seating himself, and resting his arm upon the table, "and it is one I -will never tread willingly again, unless it be to return home this -night, though that I would not do, if there were any way of avoiding -it." - -"Why, how now, how now?" asked the priest. "Never let it be said that -you have been frightened by a score of old monuments, and a few dry -bones." - -"That's not all, good Father, that's not all," answered the young man; -and he proceeded to relate, in a low voice, all that he had heard and -seen as he came thither. - -"Phantasms of the imagination!" exclaimed the priest. "Voices in the -serfs burying-place! lights in the chapel vaults! No, no, good youth, -such things are quite impossible; these are but tales of the castle -hall, told in the winter's evening round the fire, which have so -filled your imagination that you realize them to yourself in a dark, -stormy night, and a gloomy place. I have gone up there a hundred -times, by night and day, and never yet saw aught but old crumbling -stones and mouldy arches, and fleshless bones here and there; things -fitted, surely, to produce solemn thoughts of the mortality of man's -frame, of the vanity of all his works, and the emptiness of his glory, -but not to fill your head with fancies such as these." - -"But, Father, I tell you I heard the voices as distinctly as I hear -you speak," the youth rejoined, in a half angry tone; "that I saw the -light as plainly as I see this before me." - -"A flash of lightning," replied the priest. - -"No, no," answered his companion, "I never saw a flash of lightning -that lasted uninterrupted, calm, and quiet, for five minutes, nor you -either, Father; nor did I ever hear the thunder ask, 'Who is he?' nor -laugh and hoot like a devil. I would not have believed it myself, had -I not had eyes and ears to witness; and so I cannot blame you for -doubting it. I never was a believer in ghosts or phantoms, or spirits -visiting the earth, till now. I thought them but old women's tales, as -you do." - -"Nay, nay," exclaimed the priest, eagerly, "I did not say that;" and -he fell into a deep fit of thought before he proceeded farther. At -length he continued, in a grave tone, saying, "You must not suppose, -Ferdinand, that I doubt, in any degree, that spirits are at times -permitted to visit or revisit this world. We have the warrant of -Scripture for it, and many facts of the kind are testified by fathers -of the church, and holy men, whom it would be a sin to suspect of -falsehood, and a presumption to accuse of foolishness. But I do think -that in thousands of instances where such apparitions are supposed to -have taken place, especially in the present day, there is much more -either of folly or deception than of truth. In this case, although I -have heard the women, and some of the boors, declare that they have -seen strange sights about the castle, I have always fancied the report -mere nonsense, as I never beheld anything of the kind myself; but -there certainly was something odd and unaccountable in the Graf -suddenly shutting up the great hall where his brother used always to -feast with his retainers; and people did say that he had seen a sight -there which had made him dread to enter it again; yet I have passed -through the vaults and the hall, many a time since, without ever -beholding aught to scare me. - -"But take some food, my son, aye, and some wine too,--it will refresh -and revive you." - -The young man did not object, for, to say truth, he much needed -refreshment, the agitation of the mind being always much more -exhausting than mere corporeal fatigue. The good priest joined in his -supper with moderation, but with evident satisfaction; for, alas that -it should be so! yet, nevertheless, it is a fact, that as we advance -in life, losing pleasure after pleasure, discovering the delusions of -the imagination, which are mixed up with so many of our joys, and the -deceitful character of not a few even of our intellectual delights, -there is a strong tendency to repose upon the scanty remnant of mere -material gratifications that are left to us by the infirmities of the -body. He helped himself and his guest to a glass of the good wine, -took another without hesitation, and then insisted upon Ferdinand -replenishing his glass, and, encouraging him to do so, bore him -company. The young man's spirits rose; the scenes he had just passed -through were partially forgotten, and the feelings and impressions -which he had felt before he set out, and which, indeed, had brought -him thither, once more became predominant. Finishing his meal, he -wiped his dagger, and thrust it back into the sheath; and then turning -to the monk, he said, "Well, good Father George, I have come at your -bidding, and would come further to please you, though I know not well -what you want, even if I suspect a little. There was nothing very -wrong, though I saw you gave me a frown." - -"I never thought there was anything wrong, my son," replied the -priest, gravely. "I saw the lady's hand in yours, it is true. I saw -her eyes turned up to yours, with a very beaming look. I saw yours -bent down on her, as if your knee would have soon bent also, but I -never thought there was anything wrong--of course not." - -His tone was perfectly serious; but whether it was conscience, or a -knowledge that Father George did not altogether dislike a jest, even -upon grave matters, Ferdinand could not help suspecting that his -companion spoke ironically. He did not feel quite sure of it, however, -and after considering for a moment, he replied, "Well, whatever you -may think, Father, it was all very simple. Her horse had fallen with -her in the morning; I had not seen her since I had aided to raise her, -and I was only asking how she had fared after the accident." - -"Nothing more, I doubt not," replied the priest, in the same tone. - -"On my life, on my honour!" exclaimed the young man. - -"And yet you love her, and she loves you, Ferdinand," rejoined Father -George, with a quiet smile. "Deny it not, my boy, for it is a fact." - -"Well," answered the youth, with a glowing cheek, "it may be true that -I love her, but I love without hope, and I do trust--though perhaps -you may not believe me when I say so--I do trust that she does not -love me, for I would not, for my right hand, that she should ever know -the bitterness of such hopeless passion." - -"But why hopeless?" demanded the priest, and paused for an answer. - -The young man gazed upon him in surprise, almost amounting to -irritation; for deep feeling, except when it is so intense as to lose -all sense of external things, will not bear to be trifled with, and he -thought the old man was jesting with his passion. - -"Why hopeless!" he exclaimed at length. "By difference of station, by -difference of wealth, by all the cold respects and icy mandates of the -world. Who am I, Father, that I should dare to lift my eyes to the -daughter of a high and mighty lord like this! Noble I may be--you have -told me so--but--" - -"As noble as herself," replied the priest. "Nay, if blood be all, -higher in station. True, fortune has not befriended you, but that same -goddess was ever a fickle and capricious dame, and those she raises -high one day she sinks low the next, to lift up others in their stead. -How many a mighty lord has been pulled from his chair of state, to end -his days in dungeons. We have heard of emperors confined to a poor -cell, and of princes and heroes begging their bread. The time may -come, boy, when upon your arm may hang the fortunes of that lady's -house, when to you she may cling for protection and support; and the -sun that now shines for her father, may shine for you." - -Ferdinand shook his head with a desponding smile, as if it were nigh a -mockery to talk of such things. "Whence should those golden days come, -Father?" he asked. "Even opportunity, the great touchstone of the -heart and mind, the gate of all success, the pathway of ambition, -love, and hope, is closed and barred to me. But yesterday--it seems -but yesterday I was her father's page; and a day earlier, a boy -running through the abbey grounds, under your kind care and good -instruction--the object of your bounty, of your charity, I do -believe--" - -"Nay, not so," exclaimed the priest, quickly; "you had your little -store of wealth when you fell to my charge, Ferdinand. I have doled it -out as I thought best in your nurture and education, but I have still -some remaining, which I have invested for you in land near the abbey, -and am ready to account for all. But still, even if all were as you -say, I see not why you should be in so hopeless a mood; all ladies may -be won, all difficulties overcome. There is a chance given to every -man in life, his be the fault if he do not seize it." - -"The distance is too far, Father," answered the young man. "I have -often, when I was a boy, stood and looked at the sun rising through -the clouds, and when a bright, broad ray has travelled forth like a -pall laid for some emperor's tread, stretching from the golden canopy -hung over the ascending monarch of the day, and reaching well nigh to -my feet, I have almost thought that I could tread upon it, and wend my -way to heaven. But such fancies have passed now, Father; such suns no -longer shine for me; and in the broad, harsh noonday of manhood, I -dream such dreams no more." - -"But you dream others no less bright, Ferdinand," replied the priest. -"Visions of triumph in the field, and mighty deeds, and great renown, -and service to the State, and beauty's smile; fame, happiness, and -joy, float even now before your eyes, and those visions may prove -true. Did I want proof that such things still are busy in your heart, -your very gay and flowery words would show them to me. I am the last -to bid you banish them, my son; when well directed and kept within -reasonable bounds, they are often the harbingers of great success." - -"But who shall direct them for me?" asked his young companion, who had -heard encouragement so little expected with evident marks of surprise; -"who shall fix the bounds to be called reasonable? To me most of those -dreams seem foolish, especially that which is sweetest." - -"I will direct, if you will let me," answered the priest. "I will fix -the bounds; and to begin, I tell you that the hope you fancy the most -visionary is the least so. But leave the matter to me, my dear -Ferdinand; follow my counsel, and Adelaide shall be yours, and that -speedily." - -"Oh, Father!" exclaimed the young man, stretching forth his hand, and -grasping that of the priest, "do not--do not, I beseech, you, raise in -me such hopes, if there be a probability of their failure." - -"There is none," replied Father George. "Pursue the course before you -boldly; seek her resolutely, though calmly and secretly; tell her of -your love; win her confidence, gain whatever ascendency you can over -her mind, and leave all the rest to me." - -"But, Father, what will be said of my honour, when all is discovered, -as it must be?" rejoined the young man. "What torrents of reproach -will fall upon me,--what disgrace, what indignity, will not be heaped -upon me! Danger I do not fear, death itself I would encounter, but for -the chance of possessing her; but shame--I cannot bear shame, Father." - -"Think you, my son," asked the priest, somewhat sternly, "that I would -counsel you to anything that is disgraceful? I only advise you to -caution and secrecy, because you would meet with opposition in the -outset. Have no fear, however, as to the result. I will justify you -fully. I have told you that you are her equal in birth, if not at -present in wealth; that you have a right to seek her hand; nay, more, -that if your heart goes with it, it is expedient both for you and her -that you should do so." - -"This is all a mystery to me," replied the young man, thoughtfully. - -"Ay," answered the priest; "but there are many mysteries in this life, -which it is well not to scan. However, if there be blame, your blame -be upon me. Still, it is right that you should be able to show that -you have not yielded to mere passion; and before you go, I will give -you, under my hand, authority for what you do, for you must neither -doubt nor hesitate." - -"I do not hesitate, Father," said Ferdinand, with a smile. "Heaven -knows that my heart prompts me only too eagerly to follow such -pleasant counsel. I will go on, then; but you must be ever ready to -advise and assist me; for, remember, I am working in the dark, and may -need aid and direction in a thousand difficult circumstances, which -neither I nor you foresee." - -"Advice shall be ever at your command," answered Father George, "and -aid, stronger and better than perhaps you expect; only pursue -implicitly the course I point out, and I will be answerable for the -end. Now let us talk of other things. How goes the party at the -castle--well and cheerfully?" - -"Nay," replied the young man, "never very cheerful, good Father. The -Count,[1] you know, is not of a merry disposition." - - --------------------- - -[Footnote 1: I shall adopt the word Count instead of Graf, as the -English translation of the title; and shall also follow throughout the -same course with regard to other honorary designations, as more -convenient.] - --------------------- - -"No, indeed," said the priest, "he never was so, even from a youth; a -dark, stern heart throws its shadow far around, as a bright and -benevolent one casts light on everything. He's a very different man -from his brother, the last Count, who was cheerfulness itself, full of -gay jest and merry happiness, looking lightly and mirthfully upon all -indifferent things, yet not without due reverence and feeling for the -essential duties of a Catholic Christian and a man. Ah, those were -merry days at the old castle, then. The board was always well filled -in the great hall; good meat, good wine, gay guests, and pleasant -talk--in which the noble lord himself still led others on to enjoy, -and seemed to find a pleasure in their pleasure--those were things -always to be found where there is now nothing but gloom, and state, -and cold service. There were no ghosts then, Ferdinand; no spirits but -cheerful ones haunted hall or bower;"--and the old man fell into a fit -of thought, seeming to ponder pleasantly upon the times past, though -they might contrast themselves in his mind with the darker aspect of -the present. - -Ferdinand also remained thoughtful for several minutes, but then rose, -saying, "I must be wending my way homeward, Father, though I doubt I -shall hardly find it, as I have now no lamp, and those vaults are -intricate." - -"Stay a while, stay a while," answered Father George, "the storm will -not last long, and I will go with you. No spirits will show themselves -in my presence, I am sure." - -"Oh, I fear them not now," replied Ferdinand; "such hopes as you have -given me to-night, Father, will be a spell to lay them." - -The old man smiled, well knowing that, notwithstanding the boast, his -young companion would not at all object to his company; but he merely -replied, "I will take my lantern, youth; for without a light you might -lose yourself in the caves, as some have done before you. Look out, -and see how the sky appears. The thunder has ceased, I think." - -The young man opened the door, and took a step forth, and then -returning, said, "It lightens still, but faintly; and it rains a -little. It will soon be over though, I think;" and seating himself -again, he spent about half an hour more in conversation with the -priest. At the end of that time, the rain having ceased, they set out -together for the castle, while the faint flashes of the electric -fluid, with which the air was still loaded, gleamed over the sky from -time to time, and a distant roar to the westward told that the storm -was visiting other lands. It was a toilsome journey up the steep -ascent, rendered slippery by the wet, for a man of Father George's -years, but he bore up stoutly, and at length they reached the entrance -of the crypt below the chapel. Pushing the door open boldly, the old -man went in, and advancing some twenty or thirty steps, held up the -lantern and looked round. Nothing was to be seen, however, and no -sound but the fall of their own footsteps reached the ear of either of -the two wanderers, as they pursued their way through the chapel-vaults -and the excavations in the rock against which the building was raised. -In the midst of what was called the Serfs' Burying-place, however, -close by the spot where the skeleton was chained to the column, Father -George paused, and gazed for an instant at the sad sight which it -presented. "Ah, poor fellow!" he said, "they bound him there, and -strangled him against the pillar, for murdering his master, the last -Count, when fighting far away; but to the last he declared, that -whatever hand had done it, it was not his act--and I believed him, for -he loved the Count well, and the Count loved him. 'Tis twenty years -ago, and yet see how the bones hold together. Come on, my son; I will -see you to the hall door, and then leave you." - -Ferdinand, who was not at all partial to a prolonged stay in the -vaults, readily followed, and when they reached the little door that -led into the hall, the good priest remarked, with a quiet smile, "We -have seen no ghosts, my son, nor heard them either." - -"True, Father, true," replied the young man; "but those who have heard -and seen must believe. I trust that you may pass back as unmolested as -we came." - -"I fear not, Ferdinand," answered Father George; "and what is more, -you must also shake off all apprehensions; for in order to win her you -love, you may have often to tread these same paths." - -"If there were a devil in every niche, Father," replied Ferdinand, "I -would face them all for her sake." - -"Well, well, good night," said the priest, shaking his head: "love is -the religion of a young man, and if it lead him not to wrong, it may -lead him to things higher than itself. Keep the key as a treasure, -good youth, for it may prove one to you in case of need." - -Thus saying, the old man suffered him to light his lamp at the -lantern, which was not done without difficulty, as the drops of rain -had somewhat wetted the wick; and ere Ferdinand had reached the -opposite end of the hall, after leaving the priest, his light was -extinguished again, and he had to feel his way to his own chamber, -along the dark corridors and staircases of the building. He was wet -and tired, but he felt no inclination to sleep, even though darkness -continued for more than one hour after he had returned to the castle. -There was a brighter light in his heart than that of morning, and in -it the new-born hopes sported like gay children at their play. The -hour passed away; and having cast off his wet garments, the youth lay -down for a few minutes on the bed, but half dressed, thinking--"I will -sleep if I can; for it is better they should accuse me of late rising -than see from my pillow that it has not been pressed all night." But -sleep, like all the pleasant things of life, will not come for much -seeking. In vain he shut his eyes; the grey light of dawn found its -way between the lashes, sounds were heard in the castle, showing that -some of the inferior attendants had risen; and the night watch was -relieved under the window of the tower in which he slept. A moment -after, however, came another noise; a distant horn sounded, there was -a cry of dogs borne from a distance on the air; and with all the quick -temerity of aristocratic blood in regard to the sports of the field, -the youth started up on his couch and listened. Again the deep -melodious music of hound and horn was heard, and bounding from his -bed, he threw open the casement and called to the guard, asking--"Is -the Count abroad?" - -The answer was in the negative, and throwing on hastily the rest of -his dry clothes, the youth rushed out as if to combat an enemy. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -The morning rose bright and beautiful after the storm, shining down -the valley, glittering on the stream, and illuminating the castle. -High on its rock, from the base of which, steep and rugged as it was, -stretched forth about a mile of more gradual descent, broken and -undulating, thickly covered with trees, and here and there presenting -a large mass of fallen stone, looking like the wall of some outwork, -decayed by time, and garmented with moss. The whole surface on the -summit of the hill was crowned with walls and towers, and such was the -commanding situation which they occupied, that in days when the -science of warfare, though often practised, was but little known, it -might well seem a hopeless task to attempt to take that castle by any -means but famine. On a lower point, or what may be called a step in -the rock, appeared a very beautiful and graceful building, the lower -part of which displayed strong masonry, and manifold round arches -filled up with stone; while in the upper, the lighter architecture of -a later period was seen, in thin buttresses and tall pointed windows, -pinnacles, and mouldings, and fretwork. Built against the steep side -of the cliff below the castle, there seemed at first sight no path to -this chapel but from the fortress above, with which it was connected -by a few steps, flanked by a low square tower; but to the eye of a -traveller, riding or walking along the ridge of hills on the opposite -side of the valley, glimpses of a path displayed themselves, winding -in and out amongst the wood; and somewhat more than half-way down the -hill appeared a small edifice, in the same style of architecture as -the upper story of the castle-chapel. - -On that opposite ridge of hills was another stronghold, or rather what -had been so, for at the time I speak of, it was already in ruins;--and -down below, on either hand, swept an ocean of green boughs, covering -the declivities of the hills, and leaving a narrow track of little -more than half a mile in breadth for verdant meadows, hamlets, and a -small but beautiful stream. Following the course of the little river, -the eye rested, at about two miles distance, upon the towers and -pinnacles of a large building, half concealed in wood; and from the -walls thereof, at the hours appointed for the various services of the -Roman Catholic Church, might be heard the great bell of the abbey, -swinging slow upon the breeze the call to prayer. - -Beyond the abbey and the woods that surrounded it, a world of hill and -valley was descried, with rocks tossed in wild confusion here and -there, taking every different variety of form--now like a giant -sitting on the side of a hill, now like the ruined wall of some old -fortress, now like a column raised to commemorate some great event, -now like the crest of a warrior's helmet, plumed with feathery trees; -they offered to imagination infinite materials for the sport of fancy. -All the hollows, too, except those directly facing the east, were -filled with mists and shadows, while the tops of the mountains, the -higher crags, the old ruins, and the steeple of a distant church, rose -as if from the bosom of a dim and gloomy ocean. - -"He!" exclaimed the young man; "who is he, boor--do you know him? Who -is it dares to hunt in our lord's lands? If I caught him, he should -pay dearly." - -"Ah, Master Ferdinand of Altenburg, he is one who would make you pay -more likely; but, luckily for you, you can neither cross nor catch -him--it was the Black Huntsman and his train. We saw him with our own -eyes, and you may go back and tell the Count to prepare for war. -Twelve months will not pass from this day before there are armies -warring here. Tell him that old Werner says so; and I have lived years -enough to know what I am talking about." - -"The Black Huntsman!" exclaimed Ferdinand, holding in his horse, which -was struggling forward. "And did you see him, say you--both of you?" - -"Ay, both of us," answered the old man. "And he shook his fist at -Wettstein here, just because he looked at him a little too sharply." - -"The Black Huntsman!" cried Ferdinand, again. "I never before knew any -one who saw him. What was he like, Werner?" - -"He seemed to me ten foot high!" exclaimed Wettstein, joining in; "and -his horse big enough to bear him." - -"Nay, nay, not ten foot," cried Werner; "eight he might be, or eight -and a half--and all in black from head to heel. I did not see a white -spot about him, or his horse either. Did yon, Wettstein?" - -"Not a freckle as big as a pea," replied his comrade. - -"Here's a mighty great horse's footmark, to be sure," said one of the -soldiers, who had dismounted, and was examining the ground. "I think, -Sir, you had better go back and tell our lord, for he'll be glad to -know of this." - -The young man mused without reply for a moment or two, and then -turning his horse, rode back towards the castle, halting from time to -time to listen for the sounds of the hunt. All had now ceased, -however; the valley had returned to its stillness, and nothing but the -breeze sighing through the trees was heard, as Ferdinand and his -followers rode up the opposite hill. - -A number of men were collected under the arched gateway of the castle, -and several horses stood ready saddled near, but before them all -appeared a tall, dark-looking personage, somewhat past the middle age, -but still in full vigour, with a stern and somewhat forbidding -countenance. The expression was sharp, but not lofty, morose rather -than firm, and as Ferdinand rode up and sprang to the ground, he -exclaimed, "Ha, who are they, boy? Or have you turned back from -laziness or fear, without having found them?" - -Ferdinand's cheek grew red, and he replied, "If I had been fearful or -lazy, my lord, I should have waited for orders ere I went to seek -them; but when we reached the road leading to Lindenau, the sounds -were scarcely to be heard, and we met Werner and Wettstein in the -wood, who told us that it was the Black Huntsman." - -"Ay, ay," exclaimed the Count, moodily; "doubtless the Black Huntsman. -There is never a cry of hounds across the land, but, if you believe -the peasants, it is the Black Huntsman. They are in league with the -robbers of my deer and boars. The swine-fed rascals have their share, -no doubt." - -"But, my lord Count," replied one of the soldiers who had accompanied -Ferdinand, "this time the men saw him, and he shook his fist at -Wettstein for daring to look at him too close. Besides, old Werner is -not a man to lie about it." - -"Werner and Wettstein!" said the Count, "who are they? We have a -hundred of such hogs in the valley." - -"They are men of the abbey, my good lord," replied Ferdinand; "and at -all events, they were both in the same story, and told it at once. One -of our men, too,--it was you, Karl, was it not?--saw the hoof-marks -much larger than the common size." - -"Ay, that I did," replied the man; "as big as any two in the stable. -My lord can see them too, if he doubts it." - -"I will," replied the Count, sternly; and without more ado he turned -into the castle, leaving the rest to follow to the morning meal. - -Contrary to a very common practice of the day, when most of those who -were qualified to bear arms were considered fit to sit at the table of -their lords, the Count of Ehrenstein usually admitted none but two or -three of his chosen followers to take part in the meal at the same -board with himself and his daughter. The large hall, of which we have -already spoken, had been long disused, and a smaller one, fully large -enough, indeed, for the diminished number of retainers which the -castle now contained, was divided into two unequal parts by a step, -which raised the table of the lord above that of his vassals. It was -to this hall he now took his way, moving slowly onward with a heavy -step and eyes fixed upon the ground, till, opening the door, he gazed -round it for a moment, and his face lighted up with the first look of -pleasure it had displayed that day, as his eyes rested on a group at -the farther end of the chamber. From the midst of that group, with a -light bounding step, was even then coming forward to meet him, as -beautiful a form as was ever beheld, even by a father's eyes; and what -father in his heart has never said, when gazing on his child-- - - "Du nun als ein Engel schön?" - -Young she was, very young--in the first early bloom of youth, and -wonderfully fair--for no marble that was ever hewn by the most -fastidious sculptor's hands, was whiter, clearer, softer, than her -skin; and yet there was a glow of health therein, not seeming in the -skin itself, but shining through it, like the rosy light of morning -pouring into the pale sky. Her eyes could hardly be called blue, for -there was a shade of some other colour in them; but the long black -lashes, together with the strong contrast afforded by the fairness of -her face, made them look dark, though soft, till one approached her -very near. Her dark brown hair, too, full to profusion, looked almost -black where it fell upon her neck, notwithstanding the bright golden -gleams that shone upon the wavy clusters. Round, yet tapering, every -limb was moulded in the most beautiful symmetry, which even the long -line of floating garments from the hip to the heel shadowed without -concealing; and, as almost always happens, perfection of form produced -grace of movement, though that grace is in some degree dependent also -upon the spirit within, where it is natural and not acquired. Even in -the light, quick, bounding step with which she sprang to meet her -father, there was a world of beauty, though it was simply the -unstudied impulse of filial affection; and for an instant, as I have -said, the very sight of her bright countenance dispelled the gloom -upon her father's face, and brought a momentary gleam of sunshine over -it; but the grave, hard look soon returned, and taking her hand in -his, he led her on to the upper table, calling to him two of his old -ritters or knights, and seated them beside himself and his child. - -Ferdinand of Altenburg was about to take his place as usual at the -other board, not judging that he stood at all high in the graces of -his lord; but after a moment's consideration, the Count beckoned him -up, saying, "Sit there, Ferdinand," and then commenced the meal in -silence. Adelaide of Ehrenstein looked down, but yet a momentary light -shone in her eyes, and a well-pleased smile, before she could check -it, played round her lip; and then, as if afraid that the pleasure she -felt should be marked by too watchful eyes, the colour glowed warm in -her cheek, and even tinged her fair brow. Oh, those traitorous -blushes, how often they hang out the flag of surrender, when the -garrison would fain hold firm. The young lover saw the look, and -judged it rightly; but no one else seemed to remark it; and while he -was thinking what could be the Count's motive in thus honouring him, -his lord raised his eyes heavily, saying, "And do you really believe -this story of the Wild Huntsman, Ferdinand?" - -"Nay, my lord, I know not what to think," replied the youth. "The men -seemed so frightened themselves, and spoke so naturally, that I could -not doubt that they believed it. Nevertheless, if I could have heard -the sounds any more, I should have followed to see this Black Huntsman -with my own eyes, but the noise was by that time done." - -"Would you not have feared to meet him?" asked the Count, with a -smile. - -"Not I, Sir," answered Ferdinand. "If I find any one hunting on my -lord's lands, I will stop him and ask his right, be he black or white. -But we could never catch the noise again and there was another reason, -too, that made me think it best to return; the old man, Werner, bade -me tell you there would be war within a year." - -"And so there will," replied the Count, "if it be truly the Black -Huntsman." - -"I am glad to hear it," replied Ferdinand; "there will be some chance -of honour and distinction then." - -The Count's brow grew dark. "Ay, foolish youth," he answered, "and -what sums of gold will have to be spent, what fair fields ruined, what -crops swept away!" - -"And what bloodshed!" said Adelaide, in a low tone. "Oh, my father, I -hope it will not be!" - -"Bloodshed, that's but a small matter," replied her father, with a -grim smile. "It does good to these hot youths to bleed them. Is it not -so, Seckendorf?" - -"Ay, my lord," answered the old knight to whom he spoke; "and as to -the gold and the crops, that's no great matter either. Money must be -spent, soldiers must live; and it's a pleasant sight to see a troop of -bold fellows in a vineyard swilling the fat boor's grapes. I don't let -them burn the houses, unless there's resistance; for there's no good -in that, if the knaves give up their money and their food." - -Adelaide was silent, but as she gazed down, with her beautiful eyes -full of deep thought, many a dark image of spoliation and cruelty -presented itself to fancy as approaching in the train of war. Her -father was silent too; for he knew that his somewhat unknightly love -of gold was not likely to raise him in the opinion of his followers; -but at length he said, "Well, then, we must prepare, at all events, -Seckendorf, if this be the Black Huntsman." - -"Ay, that we must, my good lord," replied the old man. "He never comes -out without being sure of what he's about. I remember when I was in -the Odenwalde, with the lord of Erlach, looking at the book in which -is written down each time he has gone forth for these two hundred -years--" - -"And you couldn't read it if you did look," said the other knight, who -was at the same table. - -"Ay, I know that," replied Seckendorf; "no one better; so I made the -sacristan read to me, and it never failed once, when that Black -Horseman went forth, or when the cry of his dogs was heard, that there -was war within a twelvemonth. But it is right to be sure that this was -he; for it would not do to sit here with the place cooped full of men, -fretting ourselves for a year, with the thought of a brave war coming, -and then for none to come after all. We should be obliged to have a -feud with some friend, just to give the men something to do." - -"True, true," answered the Count, with a quick assent; "that would not -do at all, Seckendorf. I will go after meat, and inquire more into the -affair." - -"You had better see the two men, my Lord Count," said Ferdinand. "I -will fetch them up from the abbey in an hour, and you can question -them yourself." - -"No, you will stay where you are, Sir," replied his lord, sharply; "I -can question them myself without your help. I will see these -hoof-marks too. But tell me more; from the sounds I heard as I hurried -from my bed, there must have been a whole host of followers with this -Black Huntsman. What said the man?" - -In return, Ferdinand gave as good an account as he could of all that -had occurred, though he had little to add to what he had told before. -He neither exaggerated nor coloured his narrative, but with the vice -of youth he indulged in many a figure to express his meaning, as was -indeed somewhat customary with him; drawing freely upon imagination -for the language, though not for the facts. This mode, however, of -telling his tale, did not altogether please his lord, upon whose brow -an impatient frown gathered fast. But Adelaide paid his flights of -fancy with a smile, and her father's anger was averted by a man coming -in hastily from the walls to announce that some one who seemed a -messenger was riding up at full speed towards the castle. - -"Let him be brought in," replied the Count; and he added, with a -laugh, "perhaps this may be news of the Black Huntsman." - -Expectation is ever a silent mood; and the meal continued; even the -wine circulated without anything more being said, till at length a man -dirty with hard riding through a country still wet with the storm of -the preceding night, was brought in, with formal ceremony, by two of -the Count's attendants, and led to the table at which he sat. The -stranger seemed a simple messenger in the garb of peace, and in his -hand he bore one of the large folded letters of the day, inscribed -with innumerable titles then and still given to every German nobleman -of rank, and sealed with a broad seal of yellow wax. - -"Who come you from?" demanded the Count, before he opened the letter -which the messenger presented. - -"From the high and mighty prince, Count Frederick of Leiningen," -replied the man; "who bade me bear this letter to the noble and -excellent lord, the Count of Ehrenstein, his old and valued friend, -and bring him back an answer speedily." - -"Ah! where is the Count?" exclaimed the lord of Ehrenstein; "when came -he back? 'Tis many a year since we have met." - -"He stopped last night, noble Sir, at an abbey some ten miles beyond -Zweibrücken, and he will reach that place this day," replied the -messenger, answering only one of the Count's questions. "I pray you -read the letter and let me have my answer." - -The Count cut the silk, and, unfolding the paper, read, while -Seckendorf commented in a low tone, with words of admiration, but with -something like a sneer upon his lip, at his lord's learning, which -enabled him to gather easily the contents of what seemed a somewhat -lengthy epistle. - -"Ah, this is good news indeed!" exclaimed the Count, at length. -"First, that I should see again and embrace my old friend and comrade, -Count Frederick;" and he bowed his head, not ungracefully, to the -messenger. "Next, that your lord has, after so many years, collected -together some of my poor brother's wealth, which he went to cast away -with his life upon a foreign shore. It will come well, Seckendorf, if -the Black Huntsman make his promise of war good.--You, Sir, take some -refreshment, while I go to write the safe-conduct which your lord -requires. Then you shall spur on, as hastily as may be; for, if not, I -shall overtake you on the road. Tell the mighty Count, that I will not -answer his letter till I've held my old friend in my arms, and that he -shall see me at once at Zweibrücken ere two hours past noon." Thus -saying, he rose and left the hall, and while Seckendorf and the other -knight made the messenger sit down at the lower table, furnished him -with food and wine, and questioned him eagerly as to Count Frederick's -journey, and when he had returned from eastern lands, Ferdinand of -Altenburg leaned across the table, and spoke a few low words to -Adelaide of Ehrenstein, which made the colour come and go in her -cheek, as if some strong emotions were busy in her heart. Whatever he -said, indeed, was very brief, for he feared to draw the notice of -those around upon them both; and in a moment after he had ceased, the -Count returned, with a paper in his hand. The messenger would not wait -to finish his meal, but retired from the hall, remounted his horse, -and spurred on his way back. - -As soon as he was gone, the tables were cleared, and orders given for -instant preparation, that the Count might set out to meet his friend, -with all the state and display that befitted his station. Before he -went, he whispered to Seckendorf to bring up during his absence, all -the vassals from the neighbouring estates, to swell the number of -retainers in the castle, against the following day; to sweep the -country round of its poultry, eggs, and fruit--a pleasant mark of -paternal affection which the peasantry of that day not unfrequently -received from their lords; and to prepare everything for one of those -scenes of festivity which occasionally chequered the monotony of -feudal life in peaceful times. - -Ferdinand of Altenburg stood ready to accompany his lord, with his -horse saddled, and his gayest garment displayed, never doubting for a -moment that he was to form one of the train. No sooner, however, had -the Count done speaking to the old knight, than he turned towards the -youth, saying, sharply, "Did I not tell you that you were not to go? -You will stay and guard the castle while Seckendorf is absent, and go -no farther from it, till I return, than the stream on one side, or the -hamlet on the other." - -The tone was haughty and imperious; and Ferdinand felt his heart burn, -but he merely bowed, and took a step back; the Count, fancying that he -had mortified him by leaving him behind, and feeling that sort of -bitter pleasure which harsh men find in giving pain, though, in truth, -if he had sought to consult the youth's most anxious wishes, he would -have acted just as he did act. What was to Ferdinand, Count Frederick -of Leiningen? What cared he for the meeting of two haughty lords? In -the castle of Ehrenstein remained Adelaide; and where she was, even -though he might not see her, there was festival for him. - -Adelaide had left the hall while the preparations for her father's -journey were being made, and was not present when he departed. Old -Seckendorf bustled about for nearly half an hour after the Count was -gone, choosing out men, from those left in the castle, to accompany -him upon what was neither more nor less than a marauding expedition; -and he then set out with right good will to perform a part of his duty -which he loved the best. Ferdinand of Altenburg watched from the -battlements of one of the towers the train of his lord, as it crossed -the valley and mounted the opposite hill, and then fixing his eyes on -the spot where the road, emerging from the wood again, wound on -through the distant country, continued to gaze till the last horseman -disappeared on the road to Zweibrücken. He then paced up and down till -Seckendorf and his people also were gone, and then paused, leaning -thoughtfully against the wall, as if considering what was next to be -done. - -The world is full of thin partitions, moral and physical, so slight, -so feeble in appearance, that one would think they would fall with a -touch, but often more strong than doors of brass or iron; and like the -airy limits of two hostile countries, they are full of dangers to -those who pass them. There, in the same dwelling, with nought between -him and her but a door that would at once yield to his hand, was she -whom he loved. His heart beat to go and join her; hers he fondly hoped -would flutter gladly to have him near; but yet he dared not go. -Surrounded by her women, as he believed she was, he knew that the risk -of such a step would be great to all his future hopes; and yet he -asked himself again and again, if he must lose so bright an -opportunity. It might never return; all the manifold chances of human -fate presented themselves to his mind, and he would have been less -than a lover, if he had not resolved to find some means of drawing -sweet advantage from the golden present. How? was the only question; -and after long thought, he descended slowly by the steps that led to -the battlements beneath the lady's window, and there seating himself, -with his eyes turned over the distant country, as if simply whiling -away an idle hour, he sat and sang:-- - - SONG. - - Wander with me, loved one, loved one, - Wander with me where none can see; - Through the wood, - By the flood, - Under the greenwood tree. - - Wander with me, loved one, loved one, - Wander with me where none can hear; - Where none is nigh, - But the birds that fly, - And the timid and silent deer. - - Wander with me, loved one, loved one. - Wander with me where none can mark; - Where the leaves green, - Our love shall screen, - In their bower 'twixt light and dark. - - Wander with me, loved one, loved one, - And a tale to thee I'll tell, - Which, if thy heart - With mine takes part, - Shall please thine ear right well. - -As he ended, the casement, which was partly open, was drawn fully -back, and the head of a gay, light-hearted girl, one of Adelaide's -attendants, was thrust forth with a laughing countenance, exclaiming, -"Get ye gone, you vile singer! no one can rest in peace for your harsh -voice. Methought it was a raven or a daw cawing on the battlements, -and our lady cannot read her missal for hearing thee talk of thy -'loved one, loved one.'" - -"Nay, let him alone," said Adelaide, advancing to the window; "I love -music, Bertha; 'tis that thou canst not sing a note thyself that makes -thee jealous. Sing on, if thou wilt, Ferdinand; I would listen to you -with right good will, but that I promised Father George to come down -to the shrine to-day; and I must read before I go." - -She said no more, and did not even look at him while she spoke, but -the gay girl Bertha's eyes twinkled with an arch smile upon her lips, -as if she guessed more than either the lady or her lover suspected. -Ferdinand replied little, but slowly moved away: and in about ten -minutes after he might be seen going forth from the castle gates, and -taking the road which led away in a different direction from the -chapel in the wood. - -The reader need not be told that in every portion of life, in all -life's doings, in everything moral and physical, there are circuitous -paths; nor that nine times out of ten, when a man seems to be doing -one thing, he is doing another. It is a sad truth, a bitter dark -reality; so much so, indeed, that those who have watched man's ways -most closely, will best understand the force and beauty of the -words which the inspired writer uses,--"a man without a shadow of -turning"--to express all that we should be, and are not. However, in -that deep wood that cloaked the side of the hills, there were nearly -as many crooked paths and tortuous roads as in human life. Ferdinand -took his path to the north, the chapel lay to the south. The watchman -saw him go, and thought no more of it; but the keen eye of the gay -girl Bertha marked him also, and she smiled. Some half hour after, -when her young mistress went out alone, and bent her steps towards the -chapel, Bertha laughed. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - -About an hour and a half after Ferdinand's song had ceased, the door -of the chapel, which had been closed, opened, and two figures came -forth under the green shadow of the forest leaves. The first was that -of Adelaide of Ehrenstein, and her face bore tokens of recent -agitation. By her side appeared good Father George, with his head -uncovered, and no staff in his hand. He was speaking with the lady, -earnestly but gently, and he still continued to walk on with her for -some yards up the hill. More than once, as they went, Adelaide's eyes -were turned to either side of the path, as if she feared or expected -some interruption, and though she said not a word to indicate what was -passing in her heart, the good Father marked the sort of anxiety she -seemed to feel, and at length paused, saying, "Well, my child, I will -go with you no farther. You will be quite safe on your way back; and -if you attend to my voice, and follow my counsel, you might be happy -yourself, and save others worlds of pain." - -He did not pause for a reply, but turned, and re-entered the chapel, -leaving Adelaide to pursue her way through the wood, with almost every -path of which she had been familiar from infancy. Nevertheless, as she -went, she still continued to look timidly round. She did not go far -alone, however, for just as she passed the first turning, which hid -the chapel from the eye, there was a step near, and Ferdinand was by -her side. - -"Oh, Ferdinand!" she said, "I am terrified. What is it you want to -say? If any one were to find me here with you alone, what would they -think?--and my father, if he heard it, it would bring destruction on -your head too." - -"Fear not, fear not," replied her lover; "turn into this path with me, -dear Adelaide, it will bring you as quickly to the castle as the -other, and we can speak there more freely." - -His fair companion hesitated; but taking her hand in his, he led her -gently forward, though not without a glowing cheek and eyes cast down. -It was a small footway, which horses could not travel, and wound with -many a turn up to the top of the high hill on which the castle stood. -The short green mountain turf, the broken masses of rock here and -there, the straggling boughs reaching across, and the wild flowers -springing uncrushed, even in the midst of the path, showed that it was -trodden by no very frequent feet. The green branches crossing on high -shaded it from the sun; except when, about the hour of noon, his -searching rays poured down, slept on a mossy bank here and there, or -chequered the grass with dancing light and shade. The dove and the -wood-pigeon murmured overhead, the breeze sighed faintly through the -leaves, and the nightingale--still in song--trilled his rich notes -upon many a bough above. There was a tenderness and yet a freshness in -the air; there was a calming and softening light upon the way; there -was a loveliness and a promise, and a wooing gentleness in the whole -scene, that fitted it well for lovers and for love. The voice of -nature seemed counselling affection; the aspect of all things -harmonized with the passion in each of those two young hearts; and -though Ferdinand was not skilled enough in the mystery of association -to have chosen that scene as one likely to melt and touch the heart he -sought to make his own, yet he could not have found one on the whole -earth better adapted for the tale he had to tell. He lost no time ere -he told it; and though his words were ardent--ay, and even -impassioned--yet there was a gentleness in his whole tone, a soft and -deprecating look upon his countenance, a tenderness as well as a -warmth in all he said, which prevented the young and timid woman's -heart from feeling much of that sort of apprehension with which it -often shrinks from the first touch of love. Brought up with him almost -from her childhood, unlearned in the ways of the world, left nearly to -solitude since her mother's death, with no other companion in her -girlhood but him who walked beside her, and loving him with a love -that had still increased, Adelaide felt it less strange to listen to -such words from him, than she would have done with any other human -being. She felt it less difficult, too, to reply to him, timidly, yet -frankly, not concealing what she felt, even when she did not speak it. - -He told her how long he had loved,--for a few short years, or even -months, were long in their short lives. He told her how the affection -of the boy had grown into the passion of the man; how the fraternal -tenderness of early life had warmed into the ardent affection of -maturity. He told her, too, how hope had been first illumined in his -heart by light that seemed to shine forth from hers; how words that -she had spoken without feeling their full import, had bid him not -despair; how smiles from her lips, and rays from her eyes, had -nourished and expanded the flower of love in his bosom. He went on to -relate how he had trembled, and feared, and doubted, and hesitated, -when he first became conscious of the full strength of all his -sensations; how he had put a guard upon himself; how he had refrained -from seeing her alone; how he had resisted many a temptation; but how -the power of the passion within had overcome all prudent care, and had -made him more than once speak words of tenderness, in spite of every -effort to restrain them. With the rich, wild imagery of a warm and -glowing imagination, and of a heart full of eager affection, he -depicted the pangs he had endured, the struggles he had undergone, the -cares and anxieties which had been his companions during the day, the -bitter and despairing thoughts which had haunted him through the -night. But at length he explained how hope had dawned upon him; how -assurance and comfort had been given him the night before; and how -one, upon whom they could both depend, had encouraged him to -persevere, and held out mysterious hopes of fortune and success. - -He did not, indeed, pursue his tale evenly to the close; for more than -once his fair companion murmured a few words of compassion for what he -had suffered, of anxiety for his safety, of doubt regarding the -future; all of which were very sweet, for all showed him too happily, -too brightly, that he was loved in return; and when at length he -referred to his conversation with the priest, and to the expectations -which had been held out, she looked eagerly up in his face, replying -without disguise, "So he said to me, Ferdinand. He spoke of strange -and mysterious things; of my fate and that of my house being linked to -yours by an unseen tie; which, if it were broken, would bring ruin on -us all. I could not understand him. I doubted, for I could scarcely -believe such happy tidings true." - -She paused and coloured, as soon as the words were spoken; and blushed -more deeply still when he asked, "Then they were happy, dear -Adelaide?" - -"You do not doubt it," she murmured, after a moment's silence. "But at -all events," she continued--suddenly turning from the question--"my -mother told me, the very last time she held me in her arms, to trust -to what he might say; and now he bids me give myself to you, without -fear or doubt. I know not what to think." - -"Think that he directs you right, dear Adelaide," replied her lover -eagerly; "and oh! follow his guidance, and the guidance of your own -heart." - -She was silent for some minutes, walking on by his side, till at -length he asked, "Will you not promise, Adelaide, will you not promise -to be mine?" - -"How can I--how dare I?" she answered. "Without my father's will, what -good were my promise, Ferdinand?" - -"All, everything to me," answered her lover; "for that promise once -given you would not break it, dear one. Who can tell what your father -may design? Who can tell that he may not some day seek to drive you to -a marriage with one you hate; or, at best, can never love? But that -promise once given to me, would be strength to you, my beloved, as -well as comfort and assurance to myself. It would be the rainbow of my -life; a pledge that there would be no more destruction of all hopes. -Oh! dear girl, do not refuse me; give me back comfort and joy; give me -back light and sunshine; give me that security against all I dread; -give we that support in danger, that consolation in affliction, that -object of endeavour and of hope. Were it but the voice of a lover, -Adelaide, you might well hesitate, you might well doubt; but one who -has no passion to serve, who is calmer, alas! than I can be; who knows -more than we know, and judges more wisely than we can judge--one for -whom your dear mother bespoke your confidence; one whom you promised -her to trust and to rely on he urges you as strongly even as I do, and -bids you follow the course in which love would lead, not for my sake -alone, but for your own also." - - -They had reached a spot, by this time, where the wood fell back a -little from the path on one side, and a low, rocky bank appeared on -the other, crowned with old beeches. A spring of bright, clear water -welled from the stone, filling a basin that some careful hand had -carved below; while above, in a little niche, was placed a figure of -the Virgin, with the infant Saviour in her arms; and Ferdinand, -extending his hand towards the well, added earnestly, "Here I, at -least, Adelaide, saw that dear lady for the last time; here she taught -us to kneel down and pray together, not many days before she laid that -injunction upon you. And now, dear Adelaide, now you will not refuse -me now you will follow the counsel to which she pointed--and promise -to be mine." - - -There was love in her heart, there was a voice in her own bosom spoke -more eloquently than his; she wavered--she yielded. He saw the colour -come and go; he saw the bright eyes full of tears; he saw the lip -quiver, and he cried, "Oh! promise, promise, Adelaide!" - -"Well, I do," she murmured; and at the same instant a voice near -seemed to say, "Promised, promised!" - -Both started and looked round, but nothing was to be seen. The clear -light streamed through the trees on the top of the bank, suffering the -eye to see for some way between their trunks; the open space behind -was considerable, and no place of concealment appeared to be near. - -"It was but the echo, dearest," said Ferdinand; and pronouncing a word -or two sharply, there was a slight return of the sound. Adelaide was -not satisfied, however, and laying her hand upon his arm, she said in -a low tone, "Come away, come away. Oh, Heaven! if any one should have -discovered us!" - -"No fear, no fear, dearest," replied her lover, walking on by her -side. "But to guard against discovery for the future, Adelaide, we -must devise some means of communication. Is there any one near you, -whom you can trust, my beloved?" - -"No one but Bertha," answered the lady: "I can trust her, I am sure, -for she is good and true; but yet I do not think I could ever make up -my mind to speak to her on the subject first." - -Ferdinand mused for a moment or two, with a smile upon his lips; and -then replied, "I almost suspect, Adelaide, that Bertha will not -require much information. If I might judge by her look to-day, she's -already aware of more than you suspect." - -"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Adelaide, "do not say so. If she is, my -conduct must have been very imprudent." - -"Her eye may have been very keen," replied her companion; "but if -you think you can trust her, I will speak to her upon the subject -myself--cautiously and carefully, you know, dear one, so as not to -tell her more than is necessary at once; but, indeed, I can foresee -many circumstances in which we shall have absolute need of some one to -aid us--of some one who can give tidings of each to the other, when -all opportunity of private intercourse may be denied us." - -"You must judge, Ferdinand, you must judge," answered Adelaide; "but, -indeed, I fear I have done wrong already, and tremble to look forward -to the coming time. And now, leave me, dear Ferdinand. We are near the -castle, and you ought not to go with me further. Every step agitates -and terrifies me, and I would fain seek my own chamber, and think." - -Still Ferdinand lingered, however, for some time longer; still he -detained his fair companion; nor would he part with her till love's -first caress was given, and the bond between them sealed upon her -lips. But at length Adelaide withdrew her hand, half smiling, half -chiding, and hurried away, leaving him to follow some time after. When -she reached the castle, she passed the room where she had before been -sitting, catching with a glowing cheek a gay, arch look that Bertha -directed towards her; and entering her bed-room, cast herself upon her -knees and prayed, while tears of agitation and alarm, both at her own -sensations, and at what she had promised, rolled over the dark lashes -of her eyes, and trickled down her cheek. Young love is ever timid; -but in her case there were other feelings which moved her strongly and -painfully. She was not satisfied with her own conduct; she feared she -had done wrong; and for that one day she acted the part of a severe -censor on herself. True, her father's demeanour little invited -confidence; true, he was often harsh and severe, even to her; true, -from him she could expect no consideration for her wishes or for her -feelings; but yet he was her father, the one whom she was bound to -love and to obey; and her own heart would not altogether acquit her, -even though love pleaded eloquently on her behalf. I have said that -she thus felt and suffered for that one day; for, as will be seen -hereafter, a strange and sudden change came over her, and with no -apparent reason, she soon gave herself up unboundedly to the full -influence of, her attachment. The human heart is a strange thing; but -very often, for visible effects which seem unaccountable, there are -secret causes sufficient for all. In our dealings with the world, and -with each of our fellow-men, we are too often unjust, not so much from -judging wrongly, as from judging at all. "Man can but judge from what -he knows," is the common cry of those who find themselves fearfully -wrong when all is explained; but the question which each should ask -himself is, "Am I called upon to judge at all?" and too often the -reply would be, "Judge not, and thou shalt not be judged; condemn not, -and thou shalt not be condemned." Sufficient, surely, is the awful -responsibility of judging, when duty or self-defence forces it upon -us; how terrible, then, the weight when we undertake to decide -unnecessarily upon the conduct of others, without seeing the -circumstances, without hearing the evidence, without knowing the -motives,--and yet we do it every day, and every hour, in our deeds, in -our words, and in our thoughts, lacking that true charity of the heart -that thinketh no evil. But man has become a beast of prey: the laws -prevent him from tearing his fellows with his teeth, and the human -tiger preys upon them in his thoughts. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - - -There are men who rise from a low station to a throne; and it -certainly must be a grand and triumphant sensation which they -experience when first they sit in the seat of sovereignty, and feel -their brows pressed by the golden circlet of command, with the great -objects of ambition all attained, the struggle up the steep ascent to -power accomplished, and the end reached for which they have fought, -and laboured, and watched through many a weary day and night. But the -exultation of that moment, great as it may be, is nothing to that -which fills the heart of youth in the first moment of successful love. -The new-throned usurper must be well-nigh weary of repeated triumphs; -for the step to the throne is but the last of many a fatiguing -footfall in the path of ambition. He, too, must foresee innumerable -dangers and difficulties round; for the experience of the past must -teach him that in his race there is no goal, that the prize is never -really won, that he may have distanced all others, but that he must -still run on. Not so with the lover in the early hours of his success; -his is the first step in the course of joy, and the brightest, because -the first. Fresh from all the dreams of youth, it is to him the -sweetest of realities; unwearied with the bitter task of experience, -he has the capability of enjoyment as well as the expectation of -repose. The brightness of the present spreads a veil of misty light -over all that is threatening in the future; and the well of sweet -waters in the heart seems inexhaustible. - -With what a different step Ferdinand of Altenburg trod the halls of -the castle on his return; with what a different view he looked on all -things round him! The gloomy towers, the shadowy chambers, the long, -cheerless corridors, seemed full of light; and there was a gay and -laughing spirit in his heart which had not been there since love first -became its tenant. He could have jested, he could have sported like a -child; but, alas! there was no one to jest or sport with, for not more -than five or six men were left in the castle after the train of the -Count and the little band of Seckendorf had departed. Adelaide, too, -remained in her own apartments, whither he dared not venture; and none -of the two or three girls who attended upon her, and who, with an -elderly dame, whose principal function appeared to be to quarrel with -the chief butler, formed all the female inmates of Ehrenstein, -ventured forth for nearly two hours after his return. Bertha, indeed, -looked at him once, as he paced the battlements below the windows of -the room in which she sat, but maliciously kept the casement closed, -suspecting, perhaps, that he had had enough enjoyment for one day. -Anxious to speak with her, and to carry out his plan for making her -the means of communicating with her mistress, Ferdinand, as he turned -back again, ventured to make her a sign to join him; but Bertha took -no notice, and plied her busy hands on the embroidery frame where she -sat, without seeming even to see him. - -The poor lover's first happy day promised but a dull passing. Those -were not days of many books; and perhaps, in the whole extent of the -castle, not more than four or five were to be found. But Ferdinand -could not have read, even had they been to be procured, for his whole -thoughts were in that busy and excited state, in which it was -impossible to fix his mind with attention upon anything but his own -fate and projects. He went the whole round of the castle; then he saw -that everything was in order; he spoke to the men who were in the -execution of their daily duties; and often as he went, he fell into a -fit of thought, where fancy rapt him far away, wandering in bright -sunny lands, side by side with her he loved. At length, returning to -the corridor above, through which he knew that both Adelaide and -Bertha must pass, if either came forth from the ladies' apartments, he -stationed himself at one of the windows, and continued to gaze out -over the wide extent of forest, and hill, and dale, which the prospect -presented. All was silent and quiet. A dreamy stillness hung over the -whole place; the sunshine itself seemed to sleep quietly over the -motionless masses of the trees, and never was there an hour or a scene -in which a young lover might indulge the glittering visions of -imagination, with less to distract or interrupt his thoughts. - -The last four-and-twenty hours had been busy ones in Ferdinand's -life--busy in emotions, if not in action; and they had been varied too -by many a change of sensation, by much despondency, by awe and by -fear, and by hope and joy. But if the truth must be told, it was only -on the hope and joy that his mind dwelt. The strange and fearful -scenes through which he had passed the night before were forgotten, or -at least not thought of; the sorrows that were past gave but a sort of -shadowy relief to the bright aspect of the present; difficulties, -impediments, dangers, were unheeded or unseen. - -For not more than half an hour, however, was he suffered thus to -dream; for, at the end of that time, the door at which he had looked -up as he passed on the preceding night was opened and closed; and -turning quickly round he saw Bertha gliding down the corridor towards -the top of the staircase. She laid her finger on her lips as she -passed him; and, without speaking, he followed were she led. - -The gay girl took her way to the battlements on the shady side of the -castle, to which few of the rooms of the building were turned; there -she paused, and looked gaily at Ferdinand, with her dark eyes -sparkling, and her pretty little lip curling with fun and malice. -"Impudent young man," she said, as he joined her, "how can you do such -things? first singing a love song under my window, and then making me -a sign to come and join you. I'm a great deal too good-natured, and -too tender thus to indulge you. If our lady were to find out that we -were lovers, she would tell her father and then we should soon both be -sent out of the castle." - -She spoke as gravely as she could; and though her gay look might eye -some indication of what was passing within, yet Bertha's eyes were -always such merry ones, that Ferdinand felt not a little embarrassed -how to answer what perhaps might be a jest, but which might yet be -serious also. She enjoyed his perplexity for a moment or two, and then -asked in a sharp tone, "Well, Sir, why don't you speak if you have -anything to say? If you don't, I must give you something to talk -about. Tell me, Sir, what is it has made my mistress so sad since she -went out and met you in the wood?" - -"Sad is she?" exclaimed Ferdinand, alarmed; "I know nought that should -make her sad." - -"Well, she is," replied Bertha; "for she's shut up in her own room, -and Theresa compassionately looked through the keyhole, and told us -she was weeping." - -"Good Heaven!" exclaimed Ferdinand, still hesitating whether he should -acknowledge that he had met Adelaide or not. "Nothing I have ever done -could give her pain." - -"Well, don't look so terrified, Sir lover," answered Bertha; "there -are a thousand other things beside pain that make women weep; -sometimes joy, sometimes fright; and perhaps it is the last in this -case." - -"But why should she fear?" asked Ferdinand. - -"Nay, that you know best," replied Bertha. "You've neither of you -thought fit to tell me anything about it; but you had a great deal -better; for, if you don't, depend upon it you'll get yourselves into -all manner of difficulties and dangers. You are both of you as -imprudent and as ignorant of such matters as if you were twelve years -old; and I should not wonder if you were to have yourself strangled -for making love to your lord's daughter, and to get her either shut up -in a convent, or married in haste to some fierce old baron, who may -maltreat her, as my good and noble lord, the Count, used his poor -wife." - -"Nay, now you are trying to tease me, pretty Bertha," replied -Ferdinand of Altenburg. "As I see you know a great deal, I may as well -tell you all; and I will, if you can be serious; but if you go on in -jest with me, I will jest with you, and may find means to tease you -too." - -"Nay, am not jesting at all," answered Bertha, more gravely; "all I -have said is true enough: and I can tell you I have been in a great -fright for you both for some time. For during the last month I have -been terrified every day lest others should see what was plain enough -to my eyes. Do you consider what it is you are doing, and what sort of -a man our lord is--that he would no more hesitate to put you to death -in the castle-ditch than to eat his breakfast?" - -"He dare not," answered Ferdinand, boldly. "He may do that with a serf -or a vassal, perhaps; but I am neither the one nor the other, and as -noble as he is." - -All women love daring, and the youth's answer pleased his companion -well; yet she could not help jesting him a little upon what she called -his pride. "Oh, yes, you're a gentleman born!" she said; "you have -made us all know that. But now, Ferdinand, talk a little reason, and -don't pretend to say what our lord dare do, or dare not do. He dare do -many a thing, and has before now, which perhaps neither I nor you -dream of. But in a word, young gentleman--for I must not stop long--I -have seen for some time all that is going on here, and would have -given a great deal to stop it, but I did not know how; and now it is -too late. The only thing to be thought of at present is, what is to -come of all this? On my life! my knees shake when I think of it; and I -am not apt to be afraid of a little adventure either. What is it that -you two propose to do?" - -To say the truth, this was a question for which Ferdinand was not at -all prepared with an answer. He had laid out, indeed, no distinct plan -of action. Youth and love are strange reliers upon circumstances, and -he replied simply, "To go on loving, I suppose." - -"Oh, that plan will never do," answered Bertha, laughing. "You can't -stop there. In the first place, you would neither of you be content to -go on loving like a couple of turtles in two separate cages all your -lives; and besides, things would soon happen to drive you out of such -idleness of love. Any day of the week, any lord may think fit to marry -his daughter; and what would she and you do then? I must think of some -plan for you, poor things; for I see you are not fit to devise any for -yourselves." - -"The only plan, my pretty Bertha; to be followed at present," answered -Ferdinand, after a moment's thought, "is for you to befriend us, and -give us help as far as you can, in whatever circumstances may occur; -to let me know everything that happens to your lady that I do not see; -and I will take care that you shall know everything that occurs to me, -in order that it may be communicated to her. I am sure it is your wish -to serve her, Bertha; she loves you dearly, and has such confidence in -you that she told me I might confide in you implicitly." - -"I would serve her with my heart's blood," replied the girl, warmly; -"though Heaven forbid that I should have to do so," she added, -laughing; "for I would a great deal rather have that heart's blood -where it is, and see her happy too, poor girl. But, heigho! I don't -know how that's to be done, and if I am to be the messenger between -you, Master Ferdinand, there will be nothing for it but for you to -make love to me; or, at least, to get the people of the castle to -think you are so doing." - -"Oh, that won't be a very difficult task, Bertha," replied the young -man, with a gallant look. "And all we can do is to watch events, and -to take advantage of them as they arise--at least till we have further -counsel from Father George as to how we ought to act." - -"Oh, is Father George in the secret?" cried Bertha, clapping her hands -joyfully; "then there is hope. The lord of the abbey against the lord -of the castle will always beat in the end. But what says the good -Father?" - -"He says everything to encourage us," answered Ferdinand, "and, unlike -you, fair Bertha, nothing to discourage." - -"He knows more than I do," replied Bertha, "more than any of us; and -he has some reason, I'll warrant. I wish to Heaven I could see him; -but I dare not go down so far, for fear I should be missed. He was -with our poor lady in her last hours, and doubtless could tell a tale -if he would--well, well, men are strange creatures. I wonder women are -such fools as to make themselves their slaves--I'll never marry--not -I; for I never yet saw the man that was not as soft as a dormouse -while he was courting, and as hard as a hyena when he was married. But -there comes old Seckendorf riding up through the wood--I must away, -for he's the greatest old tell-tale in the world, with the gossiping -tongue of a grandmother, the spite of a monkey, and the heart of a -wolf." - -"Stay, stay, Bertha," cried the young gentleman. "If we are to seem -lovers, you know, it is as well that the old man should see us; and if -he catches sight of you walking here with me, without perceiving who -it is distinctly, he may fancy it is Adelaide, and make mischief -there." - -"Ah, you treacherous boy!" cried the gay girl, "that is a true -specimen of all men. To shield yourself and your love of the hour you -would have all the risk and the blame fall upon me, though Heaven -knows I am hazarding enough to serve you. The more faith and truth we -poor things have, the more ready are you to sacrifice us. It seems -quite natural and right, does it not, that I should, just as an honour -and a pleasure, fall into blame with my lord, and seem your light of -love to blind him to your mad passion for his daughter." - -"But you yourself proposed, I should make the people think that you, -Bertha, are the object I am seeking," replied Ferdinand; "and now when -I propose to follow that very plan you accuse me of ingratitude, -wavering to and fro like an aspen leaf." - -"Am I not a woman?" cried Bertha, laughing; "have I not a right to -waver? If you are to make love to me, I tell you, I will change fifty -times a day; when I pout, you shall call my lips budding roses; when I -smile, you shall call my brow, heaven; when I cry, you shall say my -eyes are like the April sky. Now, I am not in the humour for being -made love to, so I have more than a mind to run away and leave you as -a morsel for old Seckendorf's grinders--at least, those he has left." - -"Nay, nay, dear Bertha," cried Ferdinand, pressing to her side as he -saw the horsemen coming near; "if not for mine, for your sweet -mistress's sake, play out the part you have undertaken." - -"The mystery must not be a long one, then, Master Ferdinand," answered -Bertha; "and, for modesty, keep a little farther off, for although I -do not very much mind that people should say I listened to a love -story--there being no great harm in that--I would rather they did not -think it too warm a one, for women have a character to lose, though -men have none worth keeping." - -"But then, dear Bertha, it is understood that you will befriend us," -said her companion, "and will keep our secret, and give us all sorts -of information and advice." - -"Aye, aye," answered Bertha, "I must risk putting my hand into the -bee-hive and being stung to death, to get you to the honey. I am older -than either of you, and ought to know better, but you are two such -poor imprudent things, that if I did not help you, one would die of a -broken heart, and the other of a broken neck, very soon, so I must -even run the risk. But I will have some talk with Father George, very -soon, for if he does not give me some assurance and comfort, I shall -dream of nothing but being strangled every night. Here they come, here -they come; Seckendorf and his gang. Heaven and earth! what have they -got all those horses loaded with? they must have been plundering -Neustadt. Now, cannot you make me a fine speech, Master Ferdinand, -swearing love and eternal constancy, such as you men tickle poor -girls' ears with, just to let old Seckendorf see you in the act of -protestation?" - -"I would give you a kiss, pretty Bertha," replied Ferdinand, gaily, -"and that would do better, only you told me not to come near." - -"Oh, that would be too close, a great deal," answered Bertha, -laughing. "There, he sees us--hark! he is calling out to us I will run -away as if in a fright, and let him see my face as I go." - -She did as she proposed, and in a moment after the old knight came -riding along under the battlements calling up to Ferdinand with a loud -laugh, "Ha, ha, you young dog, that's what you staid at home for, to -chat with pretty Bertha on the walls!" - -"No great harm in that, Seckendorf," replied Ferdinand, leaning over -to speak to him. "I dare say you have done such a thing before now, -yourself; and will do it again many a time. Both she and I like a walk -in the free air, better than being stifled in the castle all day long. -And why shouldn't we take it together?" - -"If that were all, why didn't you go on the side, where folks could -see you?" replied the old man, still merry. "No, no, youngster, I am -too old a campaigner for that. However, it's no business of mine. -We've made a glorious forage. The rogues did not expect to be called -upon in such a hurry, so that all the capons were strutting before the -door; aye, and geese too. How many geese have we got, Martin?" - -"Nineteen, Sir," answered the man; and the old knight was riding on, -when Ferdinand called after him, laughing, "Why, that's the number of -your troop, Seckendorf!" - -The other shook his fist at him good-humouredly enough; for his heart -was expanded by the success of his expedition, and to say the truth, -Bertha had done him but scanty justice. He was a thorough old German -knight of the times--a character which had generally more or less of -the reiter in it--as ignorant as a boor of everything but war, brave -as a lion, superstitious in a high degree, bloody when enraged or -opposed, rapacious as any beast of prey, and holding fast by the old -maxim, that anything is justifiable in love or war. Far from thinking -the worse, therefore, of Ferdinand, if he had made love to all -Adelaide's maids together, he would only have considered it a very -laudable method of employing his idle hours, and would never have -thought of reporting it to the Count as a matter of blame. He looked -upon deceiving a poor girl with tales of love, or beating a boor -nearly to death who resisted any unjust demand, as one of the -privileges of a soldier and a gentleman, which it was not only just -but expedient to exercise from time to time, to keep such rights from -falling into desuetude; and after he entered the castle, turning his -thoughts to other affairs, he gave no more attention to the -proceedings of Bertha and Ferdinand, only jesting the young man for a -moment upon his love-making; and declaring that he had shown bad -taste, for that Theresa was by far the prettier girl of the two. - -"That's because you are as black yourself as one of the andirons," -answered Ferdinand, "and therefore you think every fair-faced girl -with flaxen hair a perfect beauty. I dare say you've said sweet things -enough to Theresa, and, therefore, I wouldn't for the world try to -spoil your game, if you won't spoil mine." - -"Pooh, nonsense; I've given up love these twenty years," said -Seckendorf, "but I won't meddle with your affairs. I wouldn't mar a -nice little plot of love for half the lands of Ehrenstein--so go on -your own way, I'll not interfere." - -"Upon your honour?" asked Ferdinand. - -"Upon my knighthood," replied the old man. "So long as you do your -duty as a soldier, I not meddle with your love affairs. But on my -life, I'm mighty hungry, for I've had nothing but a flagon of wine -since I went, and I can never wait till supper-time." - -"Do not be afraid," answered Ferdinand, "I made the cook put by for -you at dinner, the whole of a roast chine of roebuck, though Metzler -and Herman looked at it as if their very eyes would have eaten it. I -knew you would come home like a wolf." - -"That's a good boy, that's a good boy," answered the old knight, "I -won't forget you for that. You shall have the skinning of a fat -village some day all to yourself; but I'll go and get the -_Reh-braten_, for I could eat my fingers." And away he went, to -satisfy his appetite, which was at all times one of the best. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - - -An hour or two went by, and it was drawing towards night, when -Seckendorf, after having appeased the cravings of hunger, was walking -up and down the ordinary hall, for want of anything else to do. -Indeed, the piping time of peace to a soldier of his stamp was a very -dull period, especially at that season of the year, when many of the -sports of the field are forbidden; and any little incident that broke -the monotony of the castle life was a great relief. There was nobody -in the hall but himself; and he was cursing the slow flight of time, -and thinking the Count very long upon the road home, when the lifting -of the door latch made him turn his head, and he instantly exclaimed, -with a hoarse laugh, "Ha! who are you looking for, Mrs. Bertha? -Ferdinand is not here." - -"I was looking for you, Sir," answered Bertha, with perfect composure, -at the same time walking up to him. "I do not think my lady is at all -well," she continued, "she has been moping by herself all day, and -says her head aches." - -"Ah! that's bad, that's bad," answered Seckendorf: "no one should have -a headache but a boy of sixteen who has been drunk overnight. But what -can I do, pretty Bertha; I'm no leech, and am more accustomed to -bleeding men than bleeding women?" - -"Ay, but Sir Knight, you can send down to the chapel, where one of the -monks will be found. They all know something of leechcraft; and if -Father George is there, he knows a great deal." - -"But it's growing dark," said Seckendorf. "The gates must be shut in -ten minutes, and we want all the men we have about the place. Better -wait till the Count comes back, and if she should be very bad, I'll -tell you what you must do; mull half a pint of Zeller wine; put plenty -of spice in, and a spoonful or two of honey. Let her drink that down -at one draught,--that will cure her. It is just what cured me the only -time I ever had a headache." - -"Ay, but what would cure you might kill our lady," replied Bertha, who -did not at all approve of the prescription. "I pray you, Herr von -Seckendorf, send down one of the men to the good Father. What would -you say if this were to turn out a fever after you refused to send for -help?" - -"A fever!" cried Seckendorf, "what has she done to get a fever? She -has neither ridden fifty or sixty miles in a hot sun, nor lain out all -night in a damp marsh; nor drunk three or four quarts of wine to heat -her blood--Well, if I must send, I must; but mind, I do it with no -good will, for I don't like to send any of the men out after gates -closing." - -Thus saying, he put his head out of the door, calling till the whole -building echoed again: "Martin, Martin--Martin, I say;" and then -returning to Bertha's side, he continued, "I don't think much of the -monks. They can't be such holy men as people say, else they'd keep the -wood clear of spirits and devils, and things of that kind. Why one of -the men, who was looking out from the turret during the storm last -night, vows he saw some kind of apparition just down below the chapel, -fencing with the lightning, and playing at pitch and toss with balls -of fire. Then all in a minute he vanished away.--Ah! Martin, you must -go down to the chapel in the wood, and tell the priest to come up and -see the lady Adelaide, who is ill; so let him bring his lancet with -him." - -"Nonsense," cried Bertha, "she will need no bleeding; you soldiers -think of nothing but blood." - -The man Martin dropped his bead, and did not at all seem to like the -task; but then gave a look through the window to the sky and walked -away, grumbling something which was neither heard by the old knight -nor the young damsel. Bertha having performed her errand, was then -tripping away; but Seckendorf caught her hand, saying, in a honied -tone, "Stay a bit, my pretty maid, and chat with me, as you did with -young Ferdinand this morning." - -"No, indeed," cried Bertha, trying to withdraw her hand; "that was in -the free air and sunshine, not in a dark hall--let me go, Sir." But -the next moment her eyes fixed upon something at the further end of -the long room, and giving a loud scream she started back. - -Seckendorf let go her hand, and turned round to look in the same -direction, where two doors opened into the opposite sides of the hall. -Both apparently were closed, but yet, from the one to the other he -distinctly perceived a tall shadowy form, clothed in long garments, -stalk slowly across, and disappear. The old man who would willingly -have confronted a whole host of mortal enemies, and plunged his horse -into a forest of spikes, now stood rooted to the ground, with his -teeth chattering and his knees shaking, a thousand-fold more terrified -than the young girl beside him. Bertha seized the opportunity to -hasten away to her mistress's apartments; and Seckendorf, who called -after her in vain, thought the line of her retreat by the door behind -them so excellent, that he followed as soon as he could regain -strength to go. - -Never in Seckendorf's life had he so eagerly desired companionship as -when he quitted the hall; but companionship he could not find, of the -kind and quality that befitted his rank and station. The old ritter -would have felt himself degraded by associating with the common -soldiers, or anybody who had not von before his name; but Ferdinand he -could not find; his companion, old Karl von Mosbach, had accompanied -the Count, with all the other persons of gentle birth who filled the -various anomalous offices which then existed in the household of a -high nobleman; and not even a crossbow-man, who, as was generally -admitted, had a right to sit down to table with a knight, could be -discovered by our worthy friend, as he went grumbling through the -castle. - -"Hundert Schwerin!" he exclaimed; "to think of my seeing the ghost! -Santa Maria! who'd have ever fancied it would have come into the hall? -It looked to me, mighty like our poor dear lady that's gone, only it -had a long beard, and was six foot high. I wonder if our good lord did -put her out of the way, as some people think!--What could it want in -the hall? Very saucy of an apparition to show itself there, unless it -were at meal times, when, poor thing! it might want something to eat -and drink. It must be cold and hungry work to go shivering about all -night in vaults and passages, and to sneak back to its hiding-hole at -daylight. I'd rather stand sentry on the northern'st tower in the -middle of January. I wonder if I shall ever be a ghost! I should not -like it at all. I'll have this one laid, however, if it costs me five -crowns out of my own pocket; for we shan't be safe in our rooms, if it -goes on in this way, unless we huddle up five or six together, like -young pigs in a sty. Donner! where can that young dog, Ferdinand, be? -I won't tell him what I've seen, for he'll only laugh; but I'll call -him to talk about the Lady Adelaide; he's very fond of her, and will -like to hear about her being ill;" and, raising his voice, with these -friendly intentions, he called up the stairs which led to the young -gentleman's room,--"Ferdinand! Ferdinand!--I want you, scapegrace!" - -"What is it, ritter?" answered the voice of Ferdinand from above; "I'm -busy, just now; I'll come in a minute." - -"But I want you now," answered Seckendorf, who was determined not to -be left longer without society than was necessary;--"Come hither and -speak to me, or I will come to you." - -Ferdinand said a word or two to some one above, and then came -unwillingly down the stairs. - -"Ah, wild one!" said the old knight, "what would you have given to be -in my place just now? I've had a chat with pretty mistress Bertha, -just between light and dark, in the hall." - -"Indeed!" answered Ferdinand. "I dare say it was very innocent, -Seckendorf; and so was my chat with her on the battlements. But what -might she want with you?" - -"Why, the Lady Adelaide is very ill," replied Seckendorf. - -"Ill!" exclaimed Ferdinand, in a tone of much alarm. "What, the Lady -Adelaide! She seemed quite well this morning." - -"Ay, but women change like the wind," said Seckendorf; "and she's ill -now, however; so I've sent down to the chapel for the priest to come -up and say what's to be done for her." - -"Why, Father George is in my room now," replied Ferdinand, "giving me -good counsel and advice." - -"Send him down, then,--send him down, quick," said Seckendorf; "and -then come and talk with me: I've a good deal to say." - -Ferdinand sped away with a much more rapid step than that which had -brought him thither, and returned in a few seconds with the good -priest, whose face, as far as Seckendorf could see it, in the -increasing darkness, expressed much less alarm than that which the -lover's countenance had displayed. - -"'Tis nothing,--'tis nothing," he said, after speaking with the old -knight for a moment, on the lady's illness; "some trifle that will -soon pass. But I will go and see;" and, accompanied by Ferdinand and -the old soldier as far as the door of Adelaide's apartments, he went -in without ceremony. - -While he remained,--and he staid for more than an hour, Ferdinand and -Seckendorf continued walking up and down the corridor, and only went -beyond it to order the hall and the passages to be lighted. Their -conversation was entirely of the Lady Adelaide and her illness; for -though, with the invariable garrulity of one who had seen a marvel, -Seckendorf more than a dozen times approached the subject of the -apparition, ready to pour the whole tale into Ferdinand's ear, -notwithstanding all his resolutions to the contrary, the young man was -still more occupied with the thoughts of his fair lady's state, than -the old knight with the memory of the ghost, and he ever turned back -to that topic just when the whole history was about to be related. -Then Seckendorf would discourse learnedly upon calentures and fevers, -hot and cold, describe the humours that ferment in man's blood, and -tell what are the vapours that rise from their fermentation; shake his -head and declare that it was a wondrous pity young girls should be so -given phthisick, which often carried them off in the flower of their -age, and the lustre of their beauty; and, shaking his head when he -pronounced Adelaide's name, would declare that she looked sadly frail -of late, doubting whether she would last another winter. But as all -this--though it served to torment in a terrible manner the heart of -the young lover--would probably not prove very entertaining to the -reader, we will pass over the further particulars till the good -father's return. By this time, to Seckendorf's great comfort and -consolation, there was as much light shed through the corridor, from a -great crescet at one end and a lantern at the other, as the passages -of the castle ever displayed. It was not very brilliant, indeed, but -sufficiently so to show that Father George's countenance was perfectly -cheerful and calm; and in answer to the eager questions of Ferdinand, -and the less anxious inquiries of the old knight, he said,--"Oh, the -lady is better; 'tis but a little passing cloud, and she will be as -well as ever ere the morning." - -"Have you let her blood?" asked Seckendorf. - -"Nay, no need of that," answered Father George. "Her illness came but -from some melancholy fumes, rising from the heart to the head. That I -have remedied, and she is better already,--but I must hasten back, for -I may be needed at the chapel." - -"Stay, stay, good father," cried the old knight; "I have something to -ask of you. I will go with you to the gate;" and walking on with -Father George, he entertained him with an account of the apparition he -had seen in the hall, and besought him to take the most canonical -means of laying the unwelcome visitant, by the heels, in the Red Sea; -or if that could not be done for a matter of five or ten crowns, at -least to put up such prayers on his behalf, as would secure him -against any farther personal acquaintance with it. - -Father George smiled quietly at the old knight's tale, and assured him -he would do his best in the case, after due consideration. Then, -hastening away, he passed down the hill, and just reached the door of -his temporary dwelling, when the sound of many horses' feet, coming up -from below, announced the return of the Count to Ehrenstein. Father -George, however, did not wait to salute the nobleman as he passed, or -to communicate to him the fact of his daughter's illness, but entered -his little cell, and closing the door listened for a moment or two as -the long train passed by, and then lighted his lamp. - -In the mean time the Count rode on, with somewhat jaded horses, and at -a slow pace, looking to the right and left, through the dim obscurity -of the night, as if he, too, were not altogether without apprehensions -of some terrible sight presenting itself. More than once he struck his -horse suddenly with the spur, and not one word did he interchange with -any of his followers, from the time he crossed the bridge till he -arrived at the Castle gates. He was met under the archway by -Seckendorf and Ferdinand, the _Schlossvogt_, or castle bailiff, and -two or three of the guard. But he noticed no one except the old -knight, whom he took by the arm, and walked on with him into the hall. - -"What news, Seckendorf?" he said. "Has anything happened since I -went?" - -"Ay, two or three things, my lord," replied Seckendorf. "In the first -place, the lady Adelaide has been ill, headachy, and drooping, like a -sick falcon." - -"Pooh! some woman's ailment, that will be gone to-morrow," replied the -Count. - -"Ay, so says Father George, whom I sent for, to see her," answered -Seckendorf. And finding that his lord paid very little attention to -the state of his daughter's health, he went on to give him an account -of his foraging expedition in the morning, dwelling long and minutely -upon the number of ducks, capons, geese, sheep, and lambs, which he -had obtained, and dilating somewhat at large upon his conversation -with sundry retainers and vassals of the Count whom he had summoned in -the course of his ride to present themselves at the castle on the -following day. - -Such details of all that was said by the peasantry were usually very -much desired by the Count, whose jealous and suspicious disposition -made him eager to glean every little indication of the feelings and -sentiments of the people towards him, but on the present occasion -Seckendorf's long-winded narrative seemed to weary and irritate him, -and after many not very complimentary interjections, he stopped him, -saying, "There, there, that will do; there will be enough, doubtless, -both of geese and asses, capons and boors;" and he remained standing -with his eyes fixed upon the ground, in thought. - -"I fear, my good lord," said the bluff old soldier, who generally took -the liberty of saying what he liked, "that you have not been very -successful in your expedition; for you seem to have come home in a -mighty ill humour--I suppose the money isn't so much as you expected." - -"No, no; it is not that," answered the Count, "I never expected any -till this morning, so it is all pure gain, and a good large sum too, -when it arrives. Heaven send it come safe! for Count Frederick has not -brought it with him, but trusted it to some of the lazy merchants of -Pisa.--No, no, it isn't that, Seckendorf. But there are things I love -not about this place. By Heaven! I have a great mind to take a torch, -set fire to yon old rafters, and burn the whole of it to the ground." - -"Better do that to your enemy's mansion than your own," answered -Seckendorf, drily, and a good deal surprised at his lord's vehemence. - -"Ay, but my enemy has a house that won't burn," answered the Count. -"You can't burn the grave, Seckendorf,--that's a vain effort. What I -mean is, that these stories of spirits and unearthly beings wandering -here and there around us, oppress me, Seckendorf. Why should I call -them stories? Have I not seen? Do I not know?" - -"Ay, and I have seen, too," answered Seckendorf; "but I never knew you -had, my good lord." - -"Why, this very night," continued the Count, grasping his arm tight, -and speaking in a low tone, "as I came through the woods, wherever I -turned my eyes, I saw nought but dim figures, flitting about amongst -the trees; none distinct enough to trace either form or feature, but -still sufficiently clear to show that the tale of the peasants and the -women is but too true--." - -"Peasants and women, Sir!" cried Seckendorf. "Knights and soldiers, -too, if you please. Why, within the last two months, ghosts have been -as plenty in the castle as holly berries on the hills. 'Tis but this -very night, that, as I stood talking to Bertha about her lady's -illness, here where we now stand--just in the twilight, between day -and night--a tall, lank figure, in long, thin, flowing robes,--it -might be in a shroud, for ought I know--crossed from that door to -that, and disappeared. We both of us saw it, for her scream made me -turn round. So you see the very hall itself is not safe. There should -always be a tankard of red wine standing here--for I've heard that -spirits will not come near red wine." - -"Methinks we should soon find plenty of ghosts to drink it," answered -the Count, with a bitter laugh. "But it is very strange. I have done -nought to merit this visitation." - -"Something must be done to remedy it, my good lord," replied -Seckendorf, "that is clear, or they will drive us out of this hall as -they drove us out of the old one--That's to say, I suppose it was the -ghosts drove us out of that; for though you did not say why you left -it, all men suspected you had seen something." - -The Count took a step or two backwards and forwards in the room, and -then pausing opposite to Seckendorf, he replied, "No, my good friend, -I saw nought there but in fancy. Yet was the fancy very strong! Each -time I stood in that hall alone, it seemed as if my brother came and -stood beside me; walked as I walked; and when I sat, placed himself -opposite, glaring at me with the cold glassy eyes of death. It was -fancy--I know it was fancy; for once I chased the phantom back against -the bare cold wall, and there it disappeared; but yet the next night -it was there again.--Why should it thus torment me," he continued -vehemently. "I slew him not; I ordered no one to slay him; I have done -him no wrong." And he walked quickly up and down the room again, while -Seckendorf followed more slowly, repeating, - -"Well, my good lord, it's clear something must be tried to stop this, -or we shan't get soldiers to stay in the castle. The rascals don't -mind fighting anything of flesh and blood, but they are not fond of -meeting with a thing when they don't know what it is. So I thought it -the best way to speak with Father George about it, and ask him to lay -my ghost--I've had enough of it, and don't wish to see such a thing -any more." - -"You did wrong--you did wrong, Seckendorf," answered his lord. "I do -not wish these monks to meddle, they will soon be fancying that some -great crime has been committed, and putting us all to penance, if not -worse. We must find means to lay the ghost ourselves--spirit or devil, -or whatever it may be." - -"Well, then, my good lord, the only way is to laugh at it," answered -Seckendorf. "I dare say one may become familiar with it in time, -though it's ugly enough at first. One gets accustomed to everything, -and why not to a ghost? We'll jest at him; and if he comes near me, -I'll throw the stool at his head, and see if that will lay him--I am -very sorry I spoke to Father George, if it displeases you; but, -however, there's not much harm done, for the grey gowns of the abbey -know everything that goes on; and the devil himself can't conceal his -game from them." - -"Too much, too much," answered the Count; "they're the pests of the -land, prying and spying, and holding their betters in subjection. We -are but the vassals of these monks, Seckendorf; and if I had my will, -I'd burn their rookery about their ears." - -"Ah, here comes Karl von Mosbach," cried Seckendorf, glad to escape -giving an answer to his lord's diatribe against the monks, for whom he -retained all the superstitious veneration of an earlier period. "Ay, -and the Lady Adelaide, too! Why, bless your beautiful eyes, yon girl -there told me you were ill, fair lady!" - -"I have been somewhat indisposed, but I am well again now," answered -Adelaide, advancing to her father. The Count, however, took little -notice of her, calling Bertha to him, and making her give an account -of what she and Seckendorf had seen. - -"Fancy, fancy, my dear father," cried Adelaide, when the girl had -done, laughing much more joyously than was her wont. "These tales are -told and listened to, till the eyes become accomplices of the -imagination, and both combine to cheat us. Bertha came down in the -grey twilight, to say that I was ill; and I will warrant, went -trembling along the dark passages, and taking every suit of armour, -and every shadow through the window, of soldier or of warder passing -without, for a grim spirit in a shroud." - -"Nay, nay, dear lady," cried Bertha, and was about to defend herself, -but the Count cut her short, turning to his daughter with a smile, and -saying, "So these tales have not infected your fancy, Adelaide. You -have no fears of ghosts or spirits?" - -"Not I, indeed," answered the lady. "First, because I have never seen -them, and next, because I know they would not hurt me, if I did. If -they be unsubstantial they cannot harm me; and if I be innocent, they -would not seek to do so, if they could. I fear them not, my father, -and I only pray, if any are seen more, I may be called to behold them -too." - -The fair girl spoke more boldly and more lightly than she usually did, -and through the rest of the evening the same cheerful spirit did not -leave her. Seated with her father at the last meal of the day, she -cheered him with conversation, and asked many a question regarding -Count Frederick of Leiningen, and those he brought in his train. - -"There is none that will fit thee for a husband, I fear, my child," -replied the Count who for the time had caught a portion of his -daughter's gaiety. "They are all bluff old soldiers, like Seckendorf -or Mosbach there. Even his very jester is white-headed, and his dwarf -like a withered pippin." - -"Methinks it would not be easy to jest if one were old," said -Adelaide. "Gravity and age, I have always thought twin sisters." - -"No, no," replied the Count, "that is because you know nought of the -world, dear girl. Why Count Frederick himself is just the same gay, -joyous soul as ever, and is as old as I am, or a year older. Now, I -dare say, to your young eyes, I seem to have reached a vast antiquity, -for it is only in looking back that space seems short. It appears but -yesterday that I was a boy." - -"Nay, I do not think you so very old," replied his daughter, smiling, -"when I set you against Seckendorf, you seem but a youth." - -"But when you compare me with Ferdinand," replied her father, -laughing, "I am quite an old man. Is it not so, child?" - -Adelaide neither answered nor coloured, as might have been perhaps -expected, but smiled faintly and fell into thought; for it is -wonderful what a vast chain of associations is very often spread out -before the mind, by a few very simple words; and those associations -are nine times out of ten totally different from any that the speaker -intended to awaken. - -It was so in this case. The comparison of her lover's light and active -youth, with the gay rose upon the cheek, the glossy unchanged hair, -the movements full of elastic life, the eye lighted up with that -heart's fire, which, like the watcher's lamp, grows slowly dimmer with -each passing hour, and her pale, thoughtful father, with his stern -look, his rigid air, his hair thickly scattered with the snow of time, -went on to take in the two elder men where the progress of decay had -passed its first stage; and at each step her fancy halted to ask, "And -will he whom I love soon be like this--and this?" Her father had said, -it seemed but yesterday that he was a boy; and Adelaide thought, "It -may be but to-morrow ere I look back upon these days and feel the -same." From time to time a sudden consciousness of the great truth, -that mortal life is but a point amidst eternity, seems to burst upon -us and is then lost again--the whisper of an angel drowned in the -tumult of earthly hopes and fears. - -Before she had roused herself from her reverie, Seckendorf had taken -up the conversation, saying, "And so, my good lord, Count Frederick is -as gay and jovial as ever? I remember you and him, and the late Count, -your brother, all curly headed boys together--two merry ones and one -grave one; for you were always more serious than the rest." - -"Because I had less cause for merriment," replied the Count, with a -cloud coming over his brow. "They wanted to make a priest of me at -that time, Seckendorf; and it was not to my taste--But do not let us -talk of those days. The past is always a sad subject. You will see our -friend to-morrow; for he will be here ere nightfall, and may stop a -week or more, so that we must have all things prepared. The great -hall, too, must be made ready; for we shall not have room here. The -casements must be mended early to-morrow; and the dust cleaned off the -walls and banners." - -Seckendorf did not answer, but looked at the Count stedfastly, with an -inquiring air, in reply to which his lord nodded, saying, "It must be -done." - -"By my faith! my good lord," cried Karl von Mosbach, "you won't get -many people willing to do it; for every one says that the hall is -haunted; and we love not even passing by the door." - -"We will have it sprinkled with holy water," replied the Count, -somewhat bitterly; "but do not tell me that any of my men will refuse -to obey my orders, or I will shame you all by a girl." - -There was no reply; and the Count demanded angrily, addressing himself -to none in particular, "Are you afraid? Here, Adelaide, will you -undertake to deck the hall with flowers, and strew the floor with -rushes?" - -"Willingly, willingly, my dear father," answered the fair girl; "and -you shall see how gaily I will trick it out." - -"I beseech you, my lord, to pardon me," said Ferdinand, "but I am not -afraid at all to obey anything that you command; and I can very well -spare the Lady Adelaide the trouble in the hall; if she will but -wreathe the garlands for me." - -"You have a heart of steel, good youth," replied the Count; "what if I -tell you now to go and bring me the banner which hangs between the -shields at the farther end of the hall?" - -"I will do it at once, my lord," replied Ferdinand, rising. - -The Count fixed his eyes upon him, and Adelaide also gazed at him -earnestly. The young man's cheek might lose a shade of colour; but -still he seemed perfectly willing; and his lord nodded, saying, "Go!" - -"I must take a light, or I may not be able to get down the banner," -replied Ferdinand. - -"The moon shines clear through the casements," answered the Count. -"You will need no other light." - -The young man made no reply, but drew his sword-belt a little forward -and walked calmly to the door. One or two of the men followed him out -of the room; not with the intention of accompanying him; for none of -them very much liked the task, but merely with the idle curiosity of -seeing him cross the passages and enter the hall. In a minute or two -they returned; and one of them said, "He has got in, my lord, but -whether he will come out again, I can't tell." - -"Got in!" repeated the Count, "What do you mean, Ernst?" - -"Why, we watched him from the stone steps," replied the soldier, "and -he lifted the latch and shook the door, but at first it would not -open. After a while, however, it was suddenly flung back, and in he -went." - -"Did he close it behind him?" asked the Count, and Adelaide gazed -anxiously on the man's face, in expectation of his answer. - -"Some one did," replied the soldier, "but I can't tell whether it was -he or not." - -Thus saying he took his seat again at the table, and all remained -silent for several minutes, waiting with different degrees of anxiety -for the result. - -"The boy is mad," murmured Seckendorf, to himself, after two or three -more minutes had elapsed; and then he added aloud, "Hundred thousand! -we must not leave this lad to be strangled by the ghosts, or devils, -or whatever they are, my lord." - -"I will go myself," replied the Count, rising from the table; "let -those who will, follow me." - -"Stay, let us get some torches," cried Karl von Mosbach. - -But just at that moment there was a clang which shook the whole -castle; and while the party assembled gazed on each other's faces in -doubt and consternation, the door of the hall in which they were was -thrown quickly open, and Ferdinand entered bearing a banner in his -hand. His face was very pale; but his brow was stern and contracted, -and advancing direct towards the Count, who had come down from the -step on which his table was raised, he laid the banner before him. - -His lord gazed from the banner to his face, and from his face back to -the banner, which was torn and soiled, and stained in many places with -blood. "How is this?" he exclaimed, at length. "This is not what I -sent you for!" - -"This is the banner, my lord," replied Ferdinand; "which was hanging -between the two shields at the farther end of the hall, over your -chair of state." - -Old Seckendorf bent down over the tattered silk, on which was -embroidered a lion with its paw upon a crescent; and as he did so, he -murmured, with a shake of the head, "Your brother's banner, Sir, which -he carried with him to the East." - -"What have you seen?" demanded the Count, sinking his voice, and -fixing his eyes upon the young man's countenance. - -"Not now, my lord," replied Ferdinand, in the same low tone; "another -time, when you are alone, and have leisure." - -The Count made no reply, but seated himself at the table, and leaned -his head thoughtfully upon his hand for a moment or two, while the -rest of the party remained in groups around, some gazing from a -distance at the banner, some looking at it more closely, but none -speaking in a louder tone than a low whisper. It was not, indeed, that -they were kept silent by any ceremonious respect for their lord; for -those were days of much homely freedom of demeanour; and that distance -and reserve did not exist between a chief and his followers which a -higher and more fastidious state of civilization has introduced. But -there was a feeling of awe approaching to terror, in the bosoms of -all, which oppressed them in their speech. Each asked himself, what -could this mysterious event mean? how had the banner come where it was -found? what did it all portend? for none, in those days of -superstition, doubted that the event which had just taken place was an -omen of others yet to come. The pale cheek with which Ferdinand of -Altenburg had returned, too, and his grave stern look, as he stood by -the table where he had lately been sitting, attracted observation, and -led every one to believe that there was more to be told, though they -had not heard his reply to their lord's question. - -At length, however, to the surprise of all, the Count suddenly shook -off his gloomy and abstracted look, and pushed across the flagon of -choice wine, which stood at his right, to his young follower, saying, -with a laugh, "Come, drink a cup of wine to me, Ferdinand the -ghost-queller. By the Lord! there is not a braver man amongst us than -thou art, boy. Would to Heaven! that all here would follow thine -example. I, for one, will do so, and think no more of these strange -things than if they were but the whisperings of the wind through the -trees. Drink, good youth! drink." - -Ferdinand filled a cup and drank to his lord; and the next moment the -Count rose again, exclaiming, "Now, to bed, to bed, we must all be up -by cock-crow for our preparations. I will sup in the old hall -to-morrow, if all the devils on the earth or under it should be its -tenants;" and thus saying he left the room, followed quickly by -Ferdinand, who did not choose to undergo the questionings of his -comrades. The others remained for a few minutes, shaking the wise head -and commenting gravely; and then by threes and fours quitted the hall, -and retired to rest; but there was much oil burned in the Castle of -Ehrenstein that night. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - - -The Count of Ehrenstein tossed uneasily on his bed, in that state -between sleeping and waking, when the mind neither enjoys quiet -repose, nor yet lives as an active being dissevered from the body, in -continuous and regular dreams--when scattered and disjointed fragments -of visions cross the imagination--when voices call and suddenly sink -away from the ear--when figures appear for an instant, and are lost -before we can accurately see what they are. Often his bosom heaved and -panted, as if oppressed with some terrible load. Often murmured words -and smothered cries broke low and indistinctly from his lips. Often -the eyeballs would roll under their filmy curtain, as if some sight of -horror presented itself to fancy. - -At length the grey light of day streamed through the narrow window, -and fell upon the sleeping man's countenance; and then having turned -for a moment from side to side, he started up and gazed towards the -casement, with a bewildered look, as if he knew not where he was. -After leaning his head upon his hand, and apparently thinking deeply -for several minutes, he rose and dressed himself without aid. Then -walking to the little dark anteroom, in which two of his attendants, -or _knechts_, were sleeping, he drew back the bolt of the door--for -his was not a heart without suspicion--and stirred one of the men with -his foot, as he lay upon the ground, bidding him go and tell Ferdinand -of Altenburg to come down upon the eastern rampart immediately. Having -given these orders, he himself issued forth, and walked slowly up and -down, now casting his eyes upon the stones beneath his feet, now -gazing at the rising sun. But few minutes had elapsed, however, ere -Ferdinand was at his side, and the Count turned towards him, saying, -"What! up so early? You should have no dreams, young man, to break -your rest." - -"Nay, my lord," replied Ferdinand, "every one dreams, I suppose. Have -you been disturbed?" - -"That have I," answered the Count. "I have seldom passed a more -troublous night, and yet I was weary, too, when I went to rest." - -"Were they good or evil visions, my lord," asked the young man. "Mine -were all bright." - -"Would that mine had been so!" answered the Count. "But they were wild -and whirling things, and 'tis no matter--and yet these undigested -thoughts," he continued, after a short pause, "these fanciful nothings -of the dreaming brain, trouble us as much at the time as fierce -realities--nay, perhaps more. I have suffered more bitterly, at -times, in some dark vision of the night--yes, even in my corporeal -frame,--than even choking death itself could inflict. I cannot but -think that there is a land to which the spirits of the sleeping travel -for a time, and undergo a strange and wayward fate, till they are -called back again. I've often fancied there must be such a place: a -kingdom of dreams, as it were, to which all the strange actions and -thoughts of the world are sent as soon as done, as a sort of commodity -or merchandise, and there are mingled up by some fantastic power with -the productions of the land itself. There go the images of the dead, -the voices that are lost upon the earth, the passionate loves and -follies of our youth, the thirsty ambition of our manhood, the crimes -and the temptations of all years, even the very thoughts of infancy, -and there we find them all, when the spirit is summoned from the -slumbering body to visit that strange country. Else, how is it, that -when we lie with darkness all around us, no sight, no sound, no scent, -to wake up memory, things long forgotten, faces that no effort of the -waking mind could call before the eye of fancy, voices that have long -ceased to ring in the deafened ear of forgetfulness, come upon us, all -strong and vivid as reality; ay, even the feelings also no longer -suited to our state of being, totally dissonant to the condition of -our corporeal frame or to our mental age:--such as the joys and -pastimes of our early boyhood, and the prattled pleasures of our baby -days? Yet there they all are--bright as if in life, though strangely -mixed with other wilder things, and cast into mad impossible array. -Last night it seemed as if every action of my life, charmed by some -frantic Orpheus, danced around me in wild and grotesque forms--never -pausing till I had leisure to taste one joy, or power to resist one -pang. Would to Heaven! I could be a boy again, and, with the knowledge -of each act's results, live over life anew--It would be a very -different one!" - -Ferdinand had let him proceed without observation or question; indeed -he was too much surprised to answer, for he had never before heard the -Count speak thus to any one. It seemed, in truth, more as if he were -talking to himself than to his companion; as if the weight of thought -overpowered him, and he cast down the burden where he could. But the -young man's surprise was not less excited by the matter of the -confidence, than by the confidence itself. He knew the Count was -learned far beyond most of the nobles of his day. He knew that he was -thoughtful; but he had ever seemed in disposition, worldly, grasping, -avaricious; evil qualities, as he thought, perfectly incompatible with -fancy. In his inexperience of the world, he was not aware how -frequently habits of thought and of desire often produced in us by the -operation of a long train of ruling circumstances--overbear the -natural bent of the mind, and lead us to a course of life, and to -innumerable actions, utterly inharmonious with the original tone of -the character. It is so; and there is scarcely any man who is not thus -walled in by circumstances in his course; scarcely any tree that, -however upright its original shoot, is not bent by the prevailing -wind. Nevertheless, when the mind is left free for a moment from the -habitual influences,--when the passions that have been indulged are -not called into play,--when the desires that have usurped a sway over -us, are for a time without either object or opposition, the original -character of the mind is suffered to indulge itself for a brief space, -like a prisoner allowed a few moments of free air. So was it with the -Count of Ehrenstein. Busy with the thoughts which had succeeded to his -dreams, he forgot not only his motives for sending for the young man -at his side, but also his habitual reserve; and led from one feeling -to another, as he discoursed imaginatively of the visions of the -night, he was hurried on to admit those sensations of regret which, -sooner or later, visit every one of Adam's race, but which the pride -that entered in us at the Fall forbids us to acknowledge. - -Ferdinand had walked on by his side, thoughtful and interested, with -his eyes, too, bent down upon the pavement of the rampart, and eager -to hear more. But soon after the Count paused, the young man brought -the confession, if it may be so called, to a conclusion, by asking a -question which would naturally rise in any simple and straightforward -heart, saying,--"Is it not very easy to repair, my lord, that which -has been done amiss?" - -"No, no, youth," answered the Count, turning upon him, and speaking -almost bitterly, "that is a foolish error. It is never possible to -repair aught that has been done amiss. Each act, once performed, is -irrevocable. It is more,--it is a foundation-stone upon which, under -the lash of the stern taskmaster, Fate, we must, whether we will or -not, build up a part of the fabric of our life. Now do not go, silly -boy! and from what I have said raise up in your fanciful brain a -belief that I have committed great crimes, and bitterly repent them. -It is with me as with all men who have power to think, and who try -from the past to extract guidance for the future. I see small errors -producing greater evils; I see pitiful mistakes, which were thought -nothing at first, swelling with bitter consequences,--but nothing -more. Every man, Ferdinand," and he laid his hand upon his shoulder -with a sort of monitory gesture, "every man who has passed through a -great part of life, is like one who has climbed a mountain and is -destined to descend on the other side. If he turns round to look at -the country he has travelled, he sees it spread forth beneath him, -with all its roads and passes, rivers and valleys, laid out as in a -map, and he will ever find he has often lost his way; that there were -paths which would have led him to his object shorter than those he has -taken; that the objects on which he has fixed his eyes to guide him -on, were often wide of the right course; and, in a word, that he has -not accomplished, in, the summer day of life, one-half he might have -done, with less labour, and by easier means. And now let us speak of -other things. You would not say last night what you had seen in the -old hall; now tell me what befell you there. We were then in the hour -of fanciful conceits, when the imagination wanders and easily receives -false impressions. We are now in the broad light of the real day, and -you can better tell, and I can better understand whatever you may have -witnessed there." - -"I did not wish to speak last night, my lord," replied Ferdinand, in a -clam and easy tone, "because all the people about us have filled -themselves with fears which would be quite as well away; and all I had -to say would only have made them more afraid. I went straight to the -hall as you directed--I do not mean to say that I would not rather -have had a light--but neither flesh nor spirit shall turn me from -doing what I have undertaken to perform. I found the door fastened, -however, and after having lifted the latch, I shook it hard, but it -did not give way. For a minute, I thought of coming back to tell you; -but then I fancied that you and the rest might doubt me, and I tried -again. Just then I think I heard a heavy grating sound, but, however, -the door opened, and I went in. At first I could hardly see--" - -"Why, the moon shone, and must have given plenty of light through the -windows," replied the Count. - -"There was too much light, my good lord," answered Ferdinand. "I came -out of the dark vestibule, and when I entered the hall, it was all in -a blaze of light. The suits of old armour that stand against the wall -had, each one, a gauntleted hand extended, and in it was a torch. It -seemed, indeed, that there were more suits than usual, but I did not -stay to count them, for as soon as I could see, I hurried on, passing -the table where they were seated--" - -"Who?" exclaimed the Count, "who were seated?" - -"Nay, my lord, I cannot tell you," answered Ferdinand. "Some six or -eight tall figures, each wrapped in a strange garment like a shroud, -dusty and soiled; as if they had lain long in the earth, covering the -head, and falling down to the eyes. My heart felt very heavy, and beat -fast, and I dared not look narrowly at them. But I drew my sword, and -hurried on, mounting into the great chair to reach the banner; when, -just as I laid my hand upon it, the voices of those round the table -said, 'Health to the Count of Ehrenstein! health to the living dead!' -and looking round, I saw that they had cups raised high, as if they -were pursuing their unearthly wassail without seeing or noticing my -presence. I felt somewhat faint and sick, but I tore down the banner, -breaking, I fear, the rest that held it, and hurried out as fast as I -could go. As I paused to take breath, I heard a loud clang behind, but -what it was I do not know." - -"We will see, we will see," said the Count, sternly; "six or eight, -did you say? - -"Ay, my good lord, at the least," replied Ferdinand. - -"Can there be some trick in this?" rejoined the Count, and fell into a -fit of deep thought, which occupied him for several minutes. "And yet -all the men were in the hall," he continued, evidently showing which -way his suspicions turned. "I marked the absence of none, except the -horse boys." - -"They would not dare, my lord," replied Ferdinand. "There is scarce a -man in the whole castle would venture thither in the broad day, and -surely none at night." - -"True, true," rejoined the Count, "but yet they shall venture thither -if I live till supper time. What could this clang be that followed -your coming out? We all heard it, even at that distance." - -"I shall soon see, my lord, if it have left any trace behind it, for -should you hold your intention of feasting in the hall to-night, they -shall not stop me from decking it forth as I have promised." - -"You seem right willing to venture with these ghosts," said the Count, -with his habitual sharp suspicion. - -"They have done me no harm as yet, my lord," answered Ferdinand -boldly, well understanding what was passing in the Count's mind. "When -you have seen some such sight yourself, you will believe, but, -doubtless, not till then. I would not myself unless I had seen." - -"Well, I will try," replied the Count. "Come with me now, and perhaps -we may discover what was the cause of this clatter, which shook the -whole castle as you were returning." - -He spoke somewhat scornfully, and Ferdinand made no reply, but -followed as his lord led on, with hasty strides, as if either -impatient to see the state of the hall with his own eyes, or fearful -that his resolution would fail before his intention was fulfilled. - -On their way they passed through the lesser hall, where their meals -were now usually taken, and thence through a long stone passage, which -crossed the entrance from the great gates, down a broad flight of -steps, and into the vestibule by one of the smaller doors opposite to -that the great hall. There the Count paused for a moment, as if he -hesitated, then putting his hand upon the latch, he lifted it, and -flung back the ponderous mass of wood-work, which yielded at once to -his hand. With an eager and straining gaze, his eye ran round the wide -vaulted chamber, which was vacant of every living thing; but still the -sight that it presented offered strange confirmation of the tale which -Ferdinand had told. The twelve suits of old armour, no longer in the -mode and fashion of the time, which had been for many years ranged -along the wall opposite to the windows, upon wooden standards that -kept them in an erect position, were now cast prone upon the pavement, -and the lances, swords, and axes, which had been arranged in fanciful -devices, between them, were likewise strewed upon the ground as if -they had been flung down at once by an earthquake. The old banners -remained waving overhead, but that which had formerly hung over the -chair of state, and which the Count had sent Ferdinand to fetch on the -preceding night, was no longer to be seen. The chair which had been -the only piece of furniture left in the hall, stood there still, with -its cushion of crimson velvet, affording a strange contrast to the air -of desolation presented by the whole of the rest of the scene; the -broken casements, the mouldering banners, the rusty suits of armour -cast down, and the disjointed pavement, with the green grass growing -up between the crevices of the stone. - -The Count took a step across the threshold, and then stopped short, -repeating several times, "This is very strange!" To have supposed that -Ferdinand himself had cast the armour down, was out of the question, -for it would have taken him half an hour to do it, and the first -impression upon the Count's mind was evidently one of awe, if not of -terror. But still there seemed to be doubts, or else he thought fit to -assume them to cover the emotions which he really felt; for after -remaining for several minutes in the same position, he turned suddenly -round to his young companion, inquiring, "Where sat these things you -saw? Here is neither board nor bench, for them to hold their revels." - -Ferdinand's face was very grave, and even sad, but he replied at once, -walking some ten paces forward, to a spot on the left-hand side of the -hall; "Here they were seated, my lord, or appeared to be so." - -The Count followed him, and gazed upon the ground. "They have left no -traces of their presence," he said, at length, and then looking up to -the vacant space where his banner had formerly hung, he asked, "And -did you really take that thing you brought me from that place. The -rest does not seem broken." - -"I thought I heard it break, my lord," replied the young man, walking -on towards the chair; but then, stopping as he came up to it, he said, -"Here are the marks of my feet, my lord, in the dust upon the -cushion." - -"Well, well, I do not doubt you," said the Count, who had followed; -and then crossing his arms upon his chest, he fell into thought again, -from which he did not rouse himself for a long time. In the end he -exclaimed, with a start, "He shall not drive me hence--I have done him -no wrong," and with a slow pace he trod his way back towards the door. -"There, that will do," he continued, as Ferdinand followed him out; "I -do not want you more; say nothing of what has happened to any one; and -go fly your hawk, or wheel your horse till breakfast time; I will -speak to you further afterwards." - -When the hour of breakfast came, and the household were assembled in -the hall, the Count again called Ferdinand up to his own table, and -seemed to regard him with much more favour than he had ever done -before; but the young man remarked that his lord's eye wandered round -the chamber in which they sat, and then rested on the groups of his -followers and attendants, as if calculating whether, with the numbers -which were to be added that day to the party there assembled, the hall -where they then were would contain them all. A fairer object of -contemplation, indeed, was before the young man's eyes, for he was -seated opposite to the Lady Adelaide, on Seckendorf's left hand. She -was a little paler, perhaps, than on the preceding morning, but that -was the only trace which her temporary sickness seemed to have left. -She was more than commonly gay; indeed, though there was a thoughtful -and a feeling tone mingled with her cheerfulness, making it like the -song of a lark, in which, though blithe and happy on the whole, may be -heard sad minor tones by any ear that listens for them. - -When the meal was over, the Count rose, saying, "Come with me, -Ferdinand. Come hither, Adelaide;" and walking forth, he led the way -to the corridor above, into which the different apartments occupied by -himself, his daughter, and the maids, opened either directly, or -through their several anterooms. There, after taking a turn backwards -and forwards, he turned to his two young companions, who had followed, -speaking with their looks, and said, "To you two I must trust the -arrangement of the great hall for our guests this evening. It is vain -to ask these dastardly men below, who are frightened at mere shadows; -and the other hall will not hold one-half--that is clear enough." - -"Oh, ask them not, my dear father," answered Adelaide. "I and -Ferdinand can do it all, and we have no fears." - -"Good faith! dear lady," rejoined Ferdinand, "though I fear not, yet I -somewhat doubt whether unaided we can accomplish all, at least in -time. The armour has somehow fallen down, many of the lozenges of -glass require to be replaced, and, in truth, I hardly know how I am to -manage that. All the rest we might accomplish easily enough." - -"That shall be done for you," said the Count, "if you and Adelaide can -do the rest. I would not have my jesting friend and his gay followers -come hither, and say, that they found the Castle of Ehrenstein in -ruins, and its banquet hall as if it never saw a feast. Do the best -you can to give it some air of cheerfulness, wreathe the crescets and -corbels with flowers--there are many in the woods just now--and with -green branches; strew the pavement over thickly with rushes, so that -no flaws be seen. As I go, I will send one to repair the casements who -would beard the devil himself." - -"He must come from far, my lord," answered Ferdinand, "for all the -people near have got this tale. I first heard it down at the Abbey; -and not one of the people of the village, I believe, would come up to -save his soul." - -"Not very far either," replied the Count; "within a mile of the Abbey, -on the other side. You know Franz Creussen, the great blacksmith? -He'll not fear, I warrant. Why look you so surprised, youth?" - -"Because, my lord, I one day heard you threaten to split his skull," -said Ferdinand, "when he refused to shoe your horses; and certainly he -never showed you any great reverence." - -"It would take a sharp sword to split his skull," rejoined the Count. -"A thick-headed blockhead, as rude and as hard as the iron that he -hammers, but if he answers my purpose that is all I heed. He that -doesn't fear me within ten miles around, is not likely to be easily -frightened--I must set forth in half an hour, to meet my noble guest -by the way; and as I go, I'll speak to the man, so that he shall be up -before mid-day. Now, Adelaide, my child, go with your girls and gather -the flowers and tender branches, so that you may make the dull old -hall look light and cheerful as yourself, for there will we all sup -to-night, even if the fiend says, Nay." - -Thus saying, he left her standing with Ferdinand. It is strange--it is -very strange, that blindness which in some circumstances comes over -the most clear-sighted upon the questions in which they feel the -deepest interest. But yet it is so common--I might say, so -invariable--that let no one think it unnatural the Count of Ehrenstein -should actually throw his daughter into the way of one to whom he -would never have consented to give her. It was perhaps because he -thought it impossible that such presumptuous love could enter into the -young man's thoughts, It was the blindest of all passions--pride that -dimmed even his keen eyes; and there he left them to the brief caress, -the low spoken words of love, the looks far more eloquent. They both -said they must part at once, yet they both lingered; they both thought -it was no use to risk aught by staying there when they were to meet -again so soon in the old hall, yet the near future could not win them -from the sweet present. They both knew it was dangerous to be seen in -close companionship, and yet the hands met and the thrilling fingers -clasped upon each other. Adelaide would fain hear what had befallen -Ferdinand in the old hall; and he answered by telling how he loved -her. She urged him to go, and to let her go, and he tried--oh, vain -endeavour!--to explain to her the burning thirst of a young lover's -heart to be near her he loves. He told her that one might as well -expect the parched traveller over the Syrian sands to forbear the well -as to ask him to quit her while she would stay; and Adelaide believed -it without difficulty. They said much one way or another, and yet -their conference was not long; for some noise upon the staircase -scared them, and with a fresh spring of joy in their hearts from their -brief interview, they parted for the time and hurried to their several -tasks with the glad hope of meeting soon again. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - - -Ferdinand was busy at his work about a quarter of an hour after the -Count of Ehrenstein had ridden forth with his train. The castle was -left even more empty than the day before, for Seckendorf and his party -had gone with their lord, and none of the feudal retainers of the -house had yet arrived. Some grooms and horse-boys in the stables, and -eight or ten men on the walls, or in the courts, were all that -remained behind, besides the young gentleman himself; and they were -not at all disposed to aid or interrupt him by their presence in a -place which they all viewed with dread, even when they passed it at a -distance. Many were their comments, indeed, upon his daring; and -several of those comments were by no means favourable to their young -lady's lover, for while some of the men wondered how Master Ferdinand -was getting on, without venturing to go and see, others went the -length of supposing that he must have either some amulet from the Holy -Land, which was a charm against spirits, or a plain compact with the -evil one, which gave him the command over them for a time. - -In the mean while, Ferdinand worked away at his unaccustomed -occupation, perhaps not quite so dexterously as if he had been an -armourer's man, or a groom of the chambers to some great lord; but he -did it cheerfully, and without apprehension; for the gay sunbeams -shone through the dim casements and chequered the old mouldy pavement -with a bright fretwork of light and shade. His heart, too, felt very -summery, for there was hope within, and the expectation of love. -Everything was done quickly, too, for he fancied that he might not be -long without the presence of one he loved, and thought that every -moment thus busily employed might well purchase one of sweeter -occupation. - -His first task was to raise the different suits of armour from the -ground, and fix them in their places again. Nor was this an easy -undertaking, for, in many cases, the thongs and buckles had given way -in the fall, and the several pieces were scattered about, and had to -be re-united. Nevertheless, he worked on zealously, stooping over the -quaint old garments of steel, lifting their ponderous masses, and ever -and anon casting back from his face the thick, glossy curls of his -hair, as they fell over his brow and eyes. He showed no signs of fear, -notwithstanding the strange sights which he had seen on the two -preceding nights; he never started at the sound of the wind; he never -turned to give the timid glance over his shoulder towards the door -leading to the vaults; but more than once he looked towards the other -entrance of the hall, and listened for any sound from the vestibule. -At length, as he was raising one of the suits of harness, where the -rusty gauntlet and vantbrace were still stretched out, as he had seen -them on his previous visit, some white spots upon the steel, seemed to -catch his eye, and to awaken a train of new and interesting ideas, for -he paused in his work, and with his hand to his brow, remained in deep -thought for several minutes, with a smile upon his lips. - -As he thus stood, the sound of voices speaking near the door was -heard, and it was gently pushed open, while the well-known tones of -Bertha exclaimed,--"I would not go in for Neustadt, and you do not -want me, either, dear lady,--you know you do not; but I'll stay here -and watch against any ghosts on this side. I'll open that other door, -however, and have more light; for spirits don't like the daylight, and -I don't like the dark." - -"Well, stay there,--stay there, then," answered Adelaide; "I can carry -in the wreaths myself." - -Ere she concluded, Ferdinand was by her side, and, raising up the -flowers and young branches which Bertha and her mistress had brought -thither, he carried them in and laid them down upon the pavement of -the hall. Bertha's merry eye was first turned, with a somewhat timid -and apprehensive glance, towards the interior of the chamber, and -then, with a meaning smile, to Ferdinand's countenance. As soon, -however, as the lady had followed her lover in, the discreet damsel -closed the door, murmuring to herself--"Well, love's the best charm -against evil spirits, after all! Heigho!--I wish I had somebody to -love!". - -By this time, Ferdinand's hand clasped that of Adelaide; but I have -noticed before that a strange change had come over the fair girl since -their meeting on the preceding day; and that change was more apparent -now than ever. All doubt, all timidity seemed to be banished. There -was no boldness, it is true, for modest gentleness seemed an inherent -part of her nature; but the fear, the anxiety, the hesitation of -unconfirmed and perilous love, no longer had any influence over her. -When Ferdinand's hand clasped hers, she laid the other upon it, gazing -in his eyes with a warm and affectionate light beaming in her own, and -saying with a thoughtful, if not absent air, as if the question she -put was as much to her own heart as to him,--"You love me, dear -Ferdinand,--is it not so? And you will ever love me, and never do -aught to grieve me, nor let others grieve me, if you can help it?" - -"Can you doubt it, beloved?" cried Ferdinand, drawing her to him; "is -not my whole heart and being only love for you?" - -"Nay, I do not doubt it," answered Adelaide; "I will not doubt -it.--Yet I have heard tales of men vowing deep vows, and breaking -them; of their looking upon woman, and woman's love, but as a flower -to be gathered and cast away: but I will not believe it. No, no!--we -have known and loved in childhood, and we will love still. I will -trust you, dear Ferdinand,--I will trust you; only promise me that if -the time should ever come when deep grief and pain menaces your -Adelaide, and it is in your power, by any act, to avert it, you will -do so, whatever be the consequences." - -"Can you suppose I would hesitate?" exclaimed Ferdinand, eagerly; "but -I do promise, dear one!--I vow by all I hold sacred,--by all that is -dearest to me, that you shall never ask me aught that can remove a -grief from you, without my doing it at once." - -"Thank you,--thank you," answered Adelaide, resting her face upon his -shoulder, while he kissed her soft cheek; "then I am happy!--then I am -all yours! I have longed for this moment to come, Ferdinand, for I -wished to say all that might be said; and to tell the truth, it was -for this opportunity I undertook so readily the task we have here to -perform." - -"And are you really not afraid, dear Adelaide?" asked her lover. "For, -certainly, here I have seen fearful sights, though I think it must be -a demon, indeed, that could harm you. Have you no fears?" - -"None, none, in the world," she answered, gaily; "I set all spirits at -defiance, Ferdinand, but the spirit of love; and it would have needed -somewhat more than imaginary terrors to keep me away from you to-day, -when we have so fair an opportunity of saying all that we could wish -to each other." - -"Nay, not all," answered Ferdinand; "there is no day, no hour, when I -shall not have something more to say to you; if it be but to tell you, -again and again, how I love you, how I thank you.--But there may be -more, much more, to be said, dear Adelaide; there may be difficulties, -dangers, unforeseen circumstances; and even with Bertha's aid, it may -be impossible to communicate them to you fully and freely, without -seeing you and speaking to you myself." - -"Well, then, I will come to you," replied Adelaide, with a beaming -smile, as if to banish all his apprehensions, like mist before the -sun; "or if not, you shall come to me. I have no hesitation, I have no -doubt now. All yesterday, after we parted, I was full of gloomy -thoughts and dark apprehensions. I was like one wandering by night in -a wood, and losing his way, to whichever side he turns. I was doubtful -of myself, doubtful of you, doubtful of the past, doubtful of the -future; but that has vanished away, and I am all your own." - -"And what dispelled it?" asked Ferdinand. - -"One word," answered Adelaide; "but you must not question me farther. -I say I will come to you, or you shall come to me, at any hour, at any -season that it may be needful.--I know I can trust you," she -continued, gazing at him with a look grave and yet tender, and then -raising her eyes towards the sky, "I do believe, Ferdinand, that for -the best gift under Heaven's sun, you would not wrong your Adelaide in -word, or thought, or deed, and it is that trust, as well as some -necessity, that makes me promise you thus boldly to find means of -seeing you whenever you desire it. Should there be danger to either of -us, but especially to you, let me know it at once. Even if it be in -the dead of the night, I should not be frightened, Ferdinand, if I saw -you standing beside me,--ay, in the very spirit-walking time, when all -mortal eyes are closed in sleep. I am very sure--quite sure, that you -would not come without some real need, that no light motive would -bring you, to my risk and to yours, and therefore I am thus bold, for -love and confidence makes me so." - -"Thank you, thank you, Adelaide. From my very heart I thank you," -replied her lover, "not alone for the dear privilege you grant me; but -from the trust that gives birth to the grant. You but judge me -rightly, dear one. Your fair form, beyond all mortal beauty, may well -charm my eyes; the touch of that dear hand, of that dear lip, may well -be prized before all that earth can give; but not for the joy of -heaven, my love, would I do aught that could tarnish the bright gem -within that lovely casket. Your very confidence is a bond upon me, far -stronger than your own reserve could be; and in your happiness, if I -could sow one regret, I should curse myself for ever." - -"But why should regret mingle with happiness?" asked Adelaide, half -gaily, half thoughtfully; "there must be some very wicked and some -very discontented people in the world, to make it so. It seems to me, -Ferdinand, that God has provided us with so many pleasures that can -produce no regret, that we should show ourselves unworthy of his -bounty did we seek others. Fields, gardens, mountains, forests, -streams, these flowers, the singing of the birds, the sunshine and the -sky, the very dreamlike clouds and their soft showers, the changes of -the seasons, music, thought,--calm, tranquil thought, the music of the -mind--and every form of meditation, whether it be upon our own strange -nature and mysterious destiny, or on God's mercy to his creatures, or -his great power and infinite wisdom--all these, ay Ferdinand, and -innocent love, too, are surely full of joy, unsoiled and imperishable. -They are like the notes of some tuneful instrument, each sweet in -itself, but doubly sweet by those that go before, and follow and -mingle with it in the harmony; and infinite, too, in change and in -variety. What needs man more, that he should sully with his evil what -God made pure and beautiful?" - -"Ay, dear girl, and from one joy you have named, all others receive a -tenfold brightness," answered Ferdinand; "innocent love has its own -light to add to all the rest." - -"I know it, Ferdinand; I feel it," answered Adelaide, "and I scruple -not to tell you that I do; for once having said 'I love,' I have said -all--though I one time thought I could never bring my lips to utter -those two words." - -"And I must ask no questions," said Ferdinand, "for your thoughts are -changed, indeed, dear one." - -"None, none;" answered Adelaide, with a gay laugh. "And now we must to -our task, Ferdinand; for if they come and find it unperformed, they -may inquire in their own thoughts, how we have loitered so. Aid me to -hang up these garlands, and to fix the green branches on the walls, -and then I will go and seek the wreaths that Theresa is still -weaving." - -He did as she desired him, moving the great chair of state for her -tiny feet to climb and hang the flowers on every prominent place that -would hold them; and often he mounted thither too, and supported her, -lest she should fall, with the arm cast lightly round her waist, and -the hands, as they came in contact, when stretched out to reach the -projecting beam, or cast the garland over the wood-work, often clasped -together with the gentle pressure of warm love; and if, from time to -time, they paused for a moment or two to speak of the things of their -own hearts, their pleasant toil was resumed the instant after, and -proceeded the more quickly, from the happy spirit that was in both. - -It was a dream of love and joy, and the flowers which Adelaide had -brought were nearly all expended, when a rough voice was heard talking -to Bertha, without, and Ferdinand sprang down lightly from the chair, -and looked towards the door. It opened as he did so, and a man -entered, on whose appearance I must pause for a moment, as we may see -more of him hereafter. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - - -The personage who broke in upon the conversation of Ferdinand and -Adelaide must have been at least six or eight inches above the -ordinary height of the human race. Nevertheless, though he undoubtedly -looked a very tall man, and those who stood beside him felt themselves -like pigmies, yet at first sight he did not seem so tall as he really -was. Unlike most of those persons who deviate from the common -standard, either above or below, there was no disproportion in his -limbs, nor want of symmetry--the neck was not long, like that of a -crane, the form was not spare and meagre, the joints were not large -and heavy, the knees did not knock together as he walked. If there was -anything out of proportion, it was that the chest and upperpart of the -frame were even too broad and bulky; and the head was comparatively -small; but it was round and well-shaped, with a capacious forehead, -and the short brown hair curling round it like that of the Farnesian -Hercules. The features of the face were good, but somewhat short, and -the expression stern and bold. There were no wrinkles on that -countenance, except a deep furrow between the eyes; and yet, by those -indescribable indications which convince us of a fact without our well -knowing why, one judged in a moment that the man who entered was -between forty-five and fifty years of age, though everything in his -whole aspect and carriage denoted undiminished vigour and activity. -Here and there, indeed, in his beard and hair, might be traced a -single white line, but that was all that spoke the passing of years. - -The dress of this worthy personage was that of a handicraftsman of -moderate wealth. His coat was of untanned leather, slashed here and -there upon the arms--as was the custom of the times--and he wore -before him a great leathern apron blackened and soiled, apparently -with the labours of the forge. A little vanity, of the kind which the -French call coquetry, was observable in the covering of his head; -which was a cap or bonnet of black felt, bordered with a lace of gold; -the brim was somewhat broad, slashed in the forms of one of the Greek -mouldings, and turned back towards the crown, while a bunch of green -feathers, taken, not from the wing of the ostrich, but rather from -that of some more homely bird, stretched across the front, and leaned -towards his left shoulder. His shoes, or rather half boots, for they -came up to his ankle, were long, and pointed at the toe; and under one -arm he carried a number of pieces of lead and iron, while his right -hand was armed with a sledge hammer, which, wielded by him, might have -brained an elephant. - -Behind the blacksmith came a lad (bearing a basket, full of various -utensils of his trade), who, in any other situation, would have -appeared a good-sized, comely youth, but who, by his side, looked a -mere dwarf; and such was the effect of the man's appearance, that -Adelaide, who had never beheld Franz Creussen before, turned somewhat -pale at the sight, though Ferdinand welcomed him with a good-humoured -smile of recognition, perhaps a little vexed that he had come so soon, -but not attributing any blame to him on that account. - -"Ha, ha, Master Ferdinand!" cried the giant, as soon as he saw him, -"good morning to you, Sir, I thought how it would be--Why don't you -help the lady? She can never get that bunch of flowers up there;" and -at the same time striding forward, and towering above Adelaide even as -she stood raised upon the chair, he stretched out his long, powerful -arm, and fixed the wreath upon the spot she could not reach. - -"You thought how what would be, Franz?" asked Ferdinand, who had -remarked a peculiar tone as the blacksmith spoke, and a glance of the -eye from himself to Adelaide. - -But Franz Creussen did not answer his question, going on in a rambling -manner. "So there are ghosts here, the Count tells me; and all the men -and women but you two are afraid. Let the ghosts come hither, and see -if I will not split their skulls with my hammer." - -"Why, Franz, I hardly thought you would come," answered Ferdinand; "I -heard you once tell the Count you would neither shoe his horses, nor -do work of any kind for him. I am glad to see you in a better humour." - -"I would not have come," answered the blacksmith, "only he told me -that all the people were afraid; and as I never yet saw a thing to be -afraid of, I came to look if I could find it here. But I must set to -work, Master Ferdinand.--God help us, how thou art grown! When I first -saw thee, thou wert scarce half an ell high, and now thou art above my -shoulder." - -Ferdinand smiled, for though he was certainly above the blacksmith's -shoulder, he was not much higher, and had no reason to believe he -would ever rise above the height he had attained. Franz Creussen, -however, turned abruptly to his work, and with the aid of his boy, -soon unhinged the latticed part of the casement nearest the door, in -which the largest fractures were, perceptible. He then proceeded to -another and another, while Ferdinand continued to aid the fair girl in -ornamenting the other side of the hall, with somewhat less familiarity -of demeanour; but nevertheless many a dear whispered word passed -between them, as they hung the garlands, or shook the banners, or -crowned the war crests of the old helmets with bunches of flowers. - -At length, as the blacksmith reached the fourth window, Adelaide's -store was exhausted, and she said, "I must go and bring more, -Ferdinand; Theresa, I dare say, has twined plenty of wreaths by this -time; and in the mean while, if you could drive some nails between the -stone-work of the arches, we could span over the vault with green -branches, and make the old hall look like a forest bower." - -"I will get Franz to help me," answered her lover; "his arm, I should -think, would drive a nail into the heart of the stone, if it were -needful." - -As soon as she was gone, however, Franz handed down the lattice of the -fourth window to his apprentice, saying, "There, carry that to the -little court by the stables--I will work there. Then come for the -others, boy;" and as the youth departed, the stout man leaned upon his -hammer, and gazed after him till the door was closed. - -"Come, Franz, help me to drive some nails in here, to hold some -boughs," said Ferdinand. But Franz Creussen strode up to him, and -grasping him tightly by the shoulder with his heavy hand, he said, in -a low voice, bending down his head, "Be careful, be careful, young -man." - -"Be careful of what?" asked Ferdinand. - -"Pooh! nonsense," cried Franz Creussen, "do you think others will not -see what I see? and if they do, you may chance to go to bed one night, -shorter by the head." - -Ferdinand was somewhat puzzled how to answer. It was a case, perhaps, -in which insincerity is tolerated by all the rules of social polity; -but he knew the man who spoke to him to be honest and true-hearted, -and one who had always displayed towards him a peculiar and remarkable -degree of kindness and regard when he was almost at open enmity with -all the rest of the Count of Ehrenstein's household. After a moment's -hesitation, however, he answered, "I know not what you have seen, -Franz, to make you use such words; but I wish you would speak more -plainly. I do believe you love me, and would do all you can to serve -me." - -"Ay, more than you know, Master Ferdinand," replied the blacksmith. -"Speak more plainly! Why I have spoken plainly enough. Who is it makes -love to his lord's daughter, and thinks that all other men are -buzzards, and can only see by candle-light? I knew it would be so long -ago, and told Father George so, too, when he first put you here." - -"But if Father George wishes it," rejoined Ferdinand, looking up in -his face. - -"Why I suppose he knows best, then," answered the man, turning on his -heel, "but it's a dangerous game. A neck's but a neck, and that's soon -cut through.--But he knows more than I do, and I suppose he is right;" -and thus saying, he searched his basket for a number of large nails -that it contained, and was soon busily driving them in between the -joints of the stone-work, without adding a word more. - -In a minute after, his boy returned to take away another of the -frames, and as soon as he was gone, Franz Creussen turned to Ferdinand -again, and said, "I'll tell you what, young gentleman; Father George -knows best, and so you must follow his counsel; but these monks, -though they manage all the world, do not always manage it as they like -best; and if this matter should go wrong, and you should need help, -you will always know where to find it, as long as Franz Creussen -lives. In any time of need, come down to me if you can; and if you -can't get out, which is not an unlikely case, get me down word, and -the door will be strong indeed that Franz Creussen's arm cannot open." - -"Thank you, Franz, thank you," answered Ferdinand, grasping his hand. -"But I would not have you peril yourself for me. I must take my fate -as I find it, and no fears for myself will stop me." - -"That's right, that's right," answered Franz Creussen. "Life would not -be worth keeping if it always wanted watching. But I don't fear peril -either, good youth; and I can do more than you think, for there's many -a man round about would follow my leathern apron as soon as a knight's -banner; I can ride with as good a train, if I like it, as any baron in -the land. But all I tell you is, don't you wait too long. If you find -yourself in danger come to Franz Creussen in time--the good Count is -quick in his despatch; didn't he strangle the poor fellow who he -thought--or said, whether he thought it or not--had stabbed his -brother, within twelve hours after he brought home the news of the -last Count's death?" - -"Indeed!" exclaimed Ferdinand, "I was not aware he had done so." - -"Ay, ay," answered the blacksmith, "he did it sure enough; you may see -his bones, poor fellow, chained to the pillar against which they -strangled him, down in the serf's burial vault--but that was before -you came here, of course, so you can't know much of it." - -"I was aware he had put him to death," replied Ferdinand, "but did not -know he had been so prompt in his execution." - -"He was, though," rejoined the blacksmith, "and for that reason, be -you prompt too. If you see signs of danger, come to Franz Creussen at -once--better to him than to the Abbey, for though the monks hold their -own well enough against the Count, they do not like to meddle in other -people's quarrels; and it is likely there would be long consultations, -before the end of which, the Abbey might be stormed, or at the end of -which you might be given up." - -As he spoke, the Lady Adelaide returned with a fresh supply of -garlands, and Franz Creussen turned away to drive in more nails on -which to hang the branches; and, at the end of about a quarter of an -hour, he quitted the hall, saying with a laugh,--"I'll go work at the -casements, in the court; I am better there than here; and you shall -have timely notice when the Count is coming up the hill." - -"That man looked very strange," said Adelaide, "and spoke strangely -too. Can he suspect anything, Ferdinand? He frightened me." - -"Oh, do not fear him, dearest girl!" replied her lover; "he is honest -and true, if ever one was so, and has a great love for me. I must not -conceal from you, my beloved, that he does suspect, and has been -warning me, if any danger should arise, to fly to him speedily, or to -send to him at once, if I should be imprisoned. He is much loved, and -much feared in the country round, and might give good and serviceable -aid in case of need." - -"Heaven forbid that it should ever be required!" cried Adelaide, -clasping her two hands together, and gazing sadly down; but the moment -after, the light rose in her eyes again, and she looked up with a -bright smile, exclaiming,--"I am doing what is right, and I will not -fear; but we must be careful, dear Ferdinand; we must not, for the -mere happiness of the moment, call suspicions upon us that might -endanger the happiness of our lives. Let us to our task--let us to our -task, and show them, when they return, that we have been right busy in -that we undertook." - -For the next three or four hours, with a brief interruption for the -mid-day meal, the lady and her lover continued to employ themselves in -decorating the old hall; and, aided by Franz Creussen and his lad, -contrived completely to change the appearance of the place. Bertha, -too, by seeing the other four continually go in and come out, by -hearing the cheerful sounds of their voices from within, and by the -presence of so many persons who seemed to have no fear, was at length -encouraged to look in, and then to speak from the door to her mistress -at the other end of the hall; and lastly, to enter herself, and assist -with her own hands. - -Everything was nearly completed; but a few more boughs were required -to be added to form a sort of canopy over the chair of state, and to -bring in the tables from the other halls, when the distant sound of a -trumpet was heard, and Franz Creussen's boy learned from the feudal -retainers, who had by this time assembled in considerable numbers, -that a large body of horsemen was coming over the opposite hill. -Adelaide hastened away to prepare herself for the reception of her -father's guests; but Ferdinand remained for a few minutes longer, to -finish, with hurried hands, all that remained to be done, and then -left the hall with Franz Creussen, who declared that he would now -hasten home, adding, in a surly tone,--"I will not stay to see them -revel who have no right to be here." - -At the door, however, Ferdinand turned to look back, and mark the -general effect which had been produced by the labours of the day. A -pleasant, though a somewhat strangely mingled sight it was, and -certainly the change which had been produced was very great. The old -arches, with their fretted roofs above, the grey stone-work, from -which the hue of age and disuse could not be removed, contrasted -curiously with the gay garlands of bright summer flowers that crowned -the chapters of the pillars, and hung in wavy lines along the walls. -The green boughs, too, with their regular irregularity, forming a -vault as it were within the vault, crossed in different directions by -the banners, now shaken clear of the dust which had long covered them, -and the rushes with which the floor was thickly strewn, gave the old -hall, as Adelaide had said, the appearance of a forest glade, dressed -out with flags for some chivalrous holiday; and as he stood and looked -around, strange dreamy visions crossed his mind, such as could present -themselves only to fancy in a chivalrous age. Thoughts of wild and -strange adventure, of renown in arms, of generous deeds and noble -daring, of befriending the poor and needy, of supporting the weak and -oppressed, of overthrowing the wrong-doer and delivering the wronged, -mixed in strange confusion with sylvan sports and forest glades, and -calm hours spent by castle hearths between. But in every scene, with -every picture, came one fair, dear form; wherever fancy placed him, -the bright soft eyes looked at him, the sweet lips smiled his reward. -She whom he loved was the soul of all his imaginings, and he felt how -truly it was that innocent love gave its own sunshine to everything -around. Even the hall he had just been decorating lost its light when -she was gone, the old walls grew cold and damp, the flowers seemed not -half so fair, the boughs appeared to droop more languidly. It all -looked but half as gay as when Adelaide was there, and yet he saw not -what could have been done better. Nevertheless, a great change had -been effected; and when he compared the hall with what it had been, -before he and Adelaide had undertaken its arrangement, he felt sure -that his lord would think that they had laboured well during his -absence, and though but half-contented with his work, hastened to his -chamber to remove the dust from his face and hands, and don his -festival attire. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - - -A body of about some sixty armed vassals of the house of Ehrenstein, -was drawn up in the outer court of the castle. They were under -different subordinate leaders, for by the subdivision of land, in -descending from one generation to another, the exact number which had -been originally assigned by tenure to different portions of the -signory, had become somewhat confused, and also difficult to compute; -for many small properties were now only bound to send half a man, and -others one, two, or three and a half. As it was not so easy to divide -a man as it had been found to divide the ground that nourished him, -each little community was usually called upon to send its aggregate -number of soldiers, with whom was a chief appointed to command them -under the Lord of Ehrenstein, or one of his officers. - -As Ferdinand of Altenburg was the only person of note in the household -of the Count, who now remained in the castle, the villagers were, of -course, under his guidance, and he endeavoured to array them in such a -sort as to make the greatest possible display of force on the entrance -of the lord of the castle with his guests. The outer gates, however, -were closed by his orders, although some of the retainers thought it -not a little strange that the young gentleman should shut the doors -upon the Count himself. But Ferdinand knew well his task, and after -directing a banner to be displayed upon the walls, he approached the -gates, and waited with some impatience, listening for the sounds from -without. - -At length the shrill blast of a trumpet upon the bridge, within a few -yards of the spot where he stood, showed him that the Count was near; -and opening the wicket, he demanded--"Who seeks to enter here?" - -The trumpeter replied in the same tone--"The Count of Ehrenstein. Open -the gates to your lord!" And the young gentleman instantly commanded -them to be flung back, that the cavalcade might enter. - -It consisted of some sixty or seventy men, with a number of baggage -horses following in the rear. At the head of the first and principal -group, appeared the Count himself, in the garments of peace, while on -his left rode a fine-looking man, somewhat past the middle age, -partially armed. His head was only covered with an ordinary velvet cap -and plume, however, so that Ferdinand had a full opportunity of gazing -at his features, and he did so with a degree of interest for which he -knew no cause. He had heard of Count Frederick of Leiningen, indeed, -as a gallant and skilful soldier, and a frank-hearted and amiable man. -But he had seen many such without feeling the same sort of curiosity -which he now experienced. The Count's face was one that well expressed -his character; blithe and good-humoured, though with a high, -thoughtful brow, while two or three scars upon his lip and cheek, -showed that he had not acquired the glory of arms without tasting the -perils and the pangs of war. His hair, nearly white, falling from -beneath his cap, would have seemed to show a more advanced period of -life than the Count of Ehrenstein had attained; but on the other hand, -the guest was more upright and stately in person than his host, and -rode his horse with a more martial air. Behind those two appeared old -Seckendorf and Karl of Mosbach, with several knights of Count -Frederick's train; and the first group was closed by a party which -would have appeared very strange, and in most unnatural companionship -to our eyes, though in those times it was of every day occurrence. On -the right was a priest, in his ordinary riding apparel, bearing a dry -branch of the Oriental palm in his hand; and on the left rode a tall, -powerful personage, whose motley garb, and sort of Phrygian bonnet, -surmounted by a bell instead of a tassel, spoke him the jester of the -high nobleman whom he followed. He, also, was past the middle age, and -his beard, which seemed to have been once of a rich dark brown, was -now thickly mingled with white; his eyebrows were quite blanched, but -his eye was keen and quick, and his teeth white and perfect. The -powerful horse that he bestrode, he managed with ease, and even grace; -and as he came forward, he sent a rapid and marking glance over every -tower and battlement of the castle, and round all the retainers of the -house of Ehrenstein, scrutinizing each face, and then passing on. -Behind these two, and mounted upon a horse as tall as those that went -before, was a dwarf, excessively diminutive in size, and hideous in -feature, form, and complexion; he was decked out in all the gayest -colours that could be found, which seemed to render his deformity but -the more apparent, and his small black eyes twinkled from beneath his -bent brows, with a dark, malicious expression, as if in that small -frame there, were a vast store of hatred for all human things more -favoured by nature than himself. Some pages in attendance, of good -birth, followed, and then the men at arms. - -Just beyond the arch of the gateway stood the Lady Adelaide, with her -women, looking more lovely--at least in the eyes of Ferdinand of -Altenburg--than she had ever done before; the colour of her cheek -heightened, and the light in her eye which can only be given by love. -As soon as Count Frederick saw her, he spoke a few words to her father -in a low voice; the Lord of Ehrenstein bowed his head, and his guest -instantly sprang to the ground, and advancing gracefully to the lady, -took her hand, and pressed his lips upon it. The rest of the party -also dismounted, and Count Frederick, still holding Adelaide by the -hand, and gazing upon her with a look of admiration and interest, was -led to the lesser hall, where her father, apologizing for being absent -a moment, left him to the entertainment of the fair lady for a time, -and hurrying back into the court, called Ferdinand to him. - -"Is all prepared in the hall?" he asked, with a low voice. - -"Yes, my good lord," replied the young man. "But I pray you do not go -to see it yet, till it be lighted up. The evening is beginning to -fall, and at supper-time it will show as you could wish it. So sweetly -has Lady Adelaide decked it all, it seems as if she were born a queen -of flowers, and that they do her bidding willingly." - -The Count smiled, but went on to say, "Then you had nothing to -interrupt you--none of these strange sights again?" - -"None, none, my lord," answered Ferdinand. "The only strange sight -that visited us during the day, was that giant Franz Creussen; but he -did us good service, helped to reach up where we could not stretch our -arms, and in the labouring part did more than any one. He was only -just gone when you arrived." - -"He passed us on the road, without a word," replied the Count; -"neither doffed his bonnet, nor made any sign of reverence. The time -may come for a reckoning between me and good Franz Creussen, when we -shall know whether the noble is to be bearded by a serf." - -"I believe he means no harm, my lord Count," replied Ferdinand, -warmly, but respectfully: "he has borne arms, I have heard, and is -somewhat rough in manners; but all the country people speak well of -him, and men say he is no serf, but of good blood." - -"His trade is a churl's, at all events," replied the Count, frowning, -"and the trade makes the man, youth.--I know right well he has borne -arms--'tis that renders him insolent. The day will come, however--the -day will come.--All men speak well of him, eh? Did you ever know any -one of whom all men spoke well, who was not a cunning knave, skilful -in taking advantage of the follies of others for their own purposes? -The man whom the rabble curse, is often their best friend; the fawning -sycophant who panders to their caprices, uses them but as means, to -cast them off when he has done with them." - -Ferdinand could have well replied, that Franz Creussen was not one to -fawn on any man; but he saw that his lord was in no mood to hear -truth, and after giving a moment to gloomy thought, the Count repeated -his question. "So all passed quietly?" - -"So peacefully and lightly, my good lord," answered Ferdinand, "that -standing there in the broad sunshine of the day, I could hardly -believe that my eyes had not played me the knave last night, and -cheated me with idle visions." - -"Perhaps it was so," said the Count, "and yet that banner--that was no -vision, Ferdinand. However, we must forget such things, and you must -choose out twenty of the men to be with us in the hall to-night. Lay -my commands strictly on them to show no signs of fear, and forbid all -the rest even to whisper one word of these vain tales to any of the -guests. I have spoken with Seckendorf and Mosbach, already; but I -trust more to you, Ferdinand, for they have doubts and fears that you -are without. Neither, to say the truth, are they very courteous. Here, -Seckendorf has been brawling already with one of Count Frederick's -chief followers. You must try and keep peace and quietness, and see -that hospitable courtesy be shown to all." - -"I cannot meddle with Seckendorf and Mosbach, my lord," answered -Ferdinand, "for they are knights, and I am none, and moreover, are my -elders; but all the rest I can easily command, partly by love, and -partly by authority, if you will delegate some power to me to rule -them as I think best, when you are not present." - -"I will, I will, good youth," replied the Count; "at supper-time I -will do it publicly, with thanks for what you have already done. You -shall be my Master of the Household for the time, and in that -character you must show every kind attention not only to Count -Frederick himself, but to his favourite followers." - -"There is sufficient good accommodation provided for his knights, my -lord," answered Ferdinand. "I saw to that before I went to the hall. -Everything is ready for seven, and I see but five." - -"Good faith! there are others whom he cares for more than his -knights," answered the Count. "There is the priest, ay, and the jester -too. My old friend seems full of strange fantasies, and we must humour -them. This fool whom he has with him saved his life in the Holy Land, -it seems; and though he is at times somewhat insolent, even to his -lord--as all such knavish fools are--not only does he bear with him -patiently, but ever keeping in mind this one service, sets him at -table with his knights, and listens to him like an oracle. He and the -priest must sit with us; and we may draw diversion from the one if not -from the other. Be sure that you are civil to him, my good youth, for -Count Frederick's friendship may stand me in good stead. Then there's -a youth--there he stands, talking to Mosbach--a down-looking -quick-eyed lad, who seems a favourite too." - -"What is his name, my lord?" asked Ferdinand, turning his eyes in the -direction of the group of which the Count spoke. - -"Martin of Dillberg," said his lord. "He is a gentleman by birth, it -seems, but of no very high nobility. Not like the Altenburgs," he -continued, with a smile and a flattering tone, "whose very blood is -wealth. So now go, Ferdinand, and see that all be arranged as I have -said, for I must hie me back again, and lead this good lord to his -apartments. You do the same for the others; and let the trumpet sound -some minutes before supper, that we may all be gathered in the other -hall." - -Thus saying, he left him; but in the mean while some words of interest -had passed between Adelaide and Count Frederick, who had remained with -her near one of the windows, while the few attendants who had followed -them were grouped together talking at the other end of the chamber. - -He had gazed at her earnestly, but not offensively, when they first -met, just within the castle gates. It was a look of kind, almost -paternal tenderness with which he appeared to interrogate her fair -face. It seemed to say, Are you as good as you are beautiful, as happy -as you are bright, sweet child? and twice, as he led her to the hall, -he turned his head to look at her with the same expression; but as -soon as they had entered, he said, turning towards the casement, "I -feel as if we were old acquaintances, my dear young lady; so you must -not think it strange that I treat you as one. I have known your father -long and well--since we were boys together; and I knew your uncle -better still--a noble and high-minded man he was, as sportful as a -child, and yet with the courage of a warrior, and the conduct of a -sage--and I cannot help looking upon you almost as a daughter. Thus, -if I do so sometimes, and seem more familiar, and more concerned about -your happiness than our young acquaintance might warrant, you will -forgive me." - -"Kindness needs no forgiveness, my noble lord," replied Adelaide, -thinking she remarked something peculiar in the Prince's tone, she -knew not well what. - -"Yes, for it may sometimes seem impertinent," answered Count -Frederick. "But methinks, my child, if I can read the clear book of -your eyes aright, you are one who can see very speedily what are the -motives of words or actions, which to some might seem strange. I am -preparing you for the demeanour of an odd old man--but I think I have -said enough." - -"I do not know, my lord," said Adelaide, casting down her eyes, in -some doubt and confusion, "enough to awaken curiosity, but not to -satisfy it." - -"Perhaps not enough to win confidence," replied Count Frederick, "yet, -as I never knew that it could be gained by words, I must leave deeds -to speak for me, and will only tell you more, that I have seen and -conversed with a dear friend of yours, and that if you should need, at -any time, aid and protection, you will have it from Frederick of -Leiningen." - -"A friend of mine?" said Adelaide, in surprise. - -"Yes, indeed," replied her companion, "and a good friend too, who told -me that a time was coming when you might need support; and I promised -to give it. But I must hear more myself before I can speak farther. In -the mean time, keep what I have said to your own bosom, but trust me -as far as you will, when you have need.--What is it now, Herr von -Narren?" he continued, as his jester approached him. "What is it that -you want?" - -"What do I want?" said the man in motley, "Good faith! uncle -Frederick, my answer, to be pertinent, must be as long as a -dictionary. First, I want lands and lordships, and a purse well -stored; then, I want wit--at least, so men tell me; and I myself judge -that I want a pretty wife. Sure, I ought to have one or the other, -though both cannot go together, for a pretty wife takes away a man's -wit, and a man who has wit has not a pretty wife; then I want boots of -untanned leather broidered with gold, and a well-darned doublet, which -the air of heaven knoweth right well I have not got. Give you good -luck, fair lady; are you the daughter of this castle?" - -"I am the daughter of its lord," replied Adelaide, with a smile. - -"Then you are the daughter of the castle," answered the jester, "and -its only begotten child!" - -"How do you prove that, Herr von Narren?" asked Count Frederick, -seeming to enjoy very much the man's dull jokes. - -"Now cogitate," replied the jester. "Is not the castle made of -stone?--all lords' hearts are made of stone, too. He is the lord of -the castle, and if she is the daughter of his heart, she is the -daughter of a stone; the castle is made of stone, _ergo_, she is the -daughter of the castle." - -"It halts!--it halts!" cried Count Frederick; "your argument is lame -of one foot!" - -"My father's heart has never been of stone to me," replied Adelaide, -gently. - -"Perhaps you never cut it, or you would have found it so, pretty -blossom," said the jester, more gravely than was his wont; and then -turning to Count Frederick, he was about to continue in his usual -strain, when their host entered, and in courteous terms, and with the -ceremonious manners of the day, besought his noble guest to follow him -to the apartments which had been prepared for him. - -Adelaide remained some minutes behind. I will not attempt to explain -why; for ladies' thoughts and motives form a difficult book to read. -It was certainly likely that Ferdinand of Altenburg would speedily -return to the hall; and perhaps she might not be unwilling to see him -again for a few minutes; or perhaps she might feel time hang heavy on -her hands, as it often did in those old castles, and she be well -disposed to while away a brief space in talking even with a jester. -Let those who are wise in such things, judge. At all events, her -conversation went on with Herr von Narren, as Count Frederick called -him; and she it was who renewed it, saying,-- - -"You accompanied Count Frederick from the Holy Land, I think?" - -"No, lady, he accompanied me," answered the jester; "fools always lead -the way, you know, and wise men follow." - -"But there was nothing foolish in coming back to your native country," -said Adelaide. - -"If it was wise to go, as all men said," replied the jester, "it was -foolish to come back. But rats will put their heads into a trap, and -then strive to pull them out, too late. Is your ladyship fond of -strawberries and cream?" - -"Not extravagantly," answered Adelaide. - -"Then God give you such wise economy in all things!" cried the jester. -"Even love may surfeit, if we take too much of it." - -From some internal emotion, the blood rose in the lady's cheek, -whether she would or not, but she forced herself to reply,--"Nay, I -doubt that, Sir; 'tis when we love unwisely that there is danger. We -cannot love too well when we love wisely." - -"Well cannot be ill, indeed," said the fool, with a sage look, "so -says Aristotle, or I mistake; yet I have heard my grandmother declare, -and she was as wise as the old Greek, that all sweet things will -surfeit. Now love is a sweet thing to all young hearts; and were I a -boy in the castle, I would avoid that pantry, for it may contain -dangerous dainties." - -Adelaide mused for a moment, asking herself whether the man, indeed, -spoke at random; but when he saw that she replied not, he went -on,--"Beauty, wisdom, wit, policy, a soft voice, and a delicate -step--even chalked soles and a flat heel--never yet kept a man from -stumbling, if he ran too fast; and so, fair lady, as you are the -daughter of the castle, and I am Count Frederick's fool, we will go -gently, and not fall in love with each other, lest our fortunes should -be made a ballad of." - -"I should think there was no great chance of your falling in love with -me, good Sir," answered Adelaide; "'tis a danger easily eschewed." - -"Faith, I know not that, if you look out of the upper windows so -sweetly," replied the jester, pointing towards Adelaide's eyes; "I am -more in love already than I ever thought to be with one of your house. -If young hearts are like dry wood, why should not old ones be tinder?" - -The lady was saved the necessity of replying, by her father's -entrance; and she was not disinclined to break off a conversation -which had become embarrassing. Retiring then quickly, she sought her -own chamber, traversing the passages and corridors now crowded with -men carrying up the baggage which had been brought with Count -Frederick's train. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - - -The crescets and sconces were lighted in the great hall, and all those -who were to be honoured with a seat at the banquet of the evening were -beginning to assemble in the lesser hall. On this occasion, none were -admitted to the table of their lords but such as could either show -some claim to noble blood, or were distinguished by particular favour. -Nevertheless, the guests were very numerous, for the changes which -time had produced in the strict feudal system, and in the severity of -the ancient chivalry, admitted many to distinction who would formerly -have been excluded; and every man, not absolutely a serf, was looked -upon as noble, and entitled to bear arms. Priests and friars, whether -they could prove their ancestry or not, found ready admission to the -tables even of monarchs; and in times of need and danger, when it was -necessary to court popular support, the leaders of the free communes -were treated with every sort of honour. The feudal system, indeed, at -this time, may be said to have been completely disorganised; and -amongst many symptoms of the total overthrow which was approaching, -was that mixture of classes, and the reverence for a great many -qualities, some of them much superior to mere ancestry, and some of -them perhaps inferior. However that may be, the number of those who, -notwithstanding all customary limitations, were entitled to dine with -the Count of Ehrenstein and his princely guest, did not amount to less -than seventy; and Adelaide, when she entered the lesser hall with her -father, felt her heart beat somewhat timidly at the sight of so many -who were perfect strangers to her. - -It was to be remarked that amongst the various groups which the room -contained, the attendants of the lord of Ehrenstein looked grave, -moody, and anxious, while those of Count Frederick of Leiningen, not -aware of any cause for apprehension, were cheerful, if not merry. -Numbers, however, have a very encouraging effect; and with so many -companions around them, old Seckendorf and Mosbach, with their -fellow-soldiers of the castle, had screwed their courage to the -sticking point, and were prepared to face the ghosts of the old hall -without any external signs of fear. It had cost some trouble, indeed, -to get the cooks and sewers of the household to place the viands for -the supper on the tables, but the example of Ferdinand and Adelaide, -and the knowledge that they, with Franz Creussen and his boy, had -passed the whole morning in the hall without disturbance, induced them -rather to risk a meeting with the ghosts than to encounter their -lord's anger; and in parties of five and six, they had at length -ventured in, heavily laden with provisions. - -Their terrors had caused some delay, however; and it was not till the -Count had waited impatiently for near a quarter of an hour, that the -trumpets were heard sounding clear and shrill from below. After a few -moments wasted, as was customary, to show that no one was in haste, -Count Frederick offered his hand to Adelaide, and led her to the door, -and the whole party moved forward towards the banquet room. - -"Let the others go first, Mosbach," said Seckendorf, in a low tone; -"the devil may take them all, if he likes, so that he leave me enough -for supper: I am as ravenous as a wolf!" - -"So am I," answered Mosbach; "but I would rather go hungry to bed than -sup in that dreary old hall, with the ghastly company we are likely to -have." - -The sight that met their eye, however, when they approached the great -door, was one that they little expected. The whole hall was in a blaze -of light; tapers were hung thickly on the walls and in the arches, -showing forth, in fine relief, the garlands of flowers with which -Adelaide had decked them, and the branches of evergreen which both -tapestried and canopied the hall. The banners, freed from the dust of -many years, waved gaily overhead; the tables groaned with well-cooked -viands, and long ranges of cups, goblets, and tankards, in gold -and silver--for the Count had brought forth all his stores of -splendour--flashed back the rays of the lights around, and added to -the rich and cheerful aspect of the whole. - -Count Frederick paused for an instant, exclaiming,--"Why, this is a -scene of fairy land!" and the Count of Ehrenstein himself gazed round -with wonder and pleasure on a sight which far surpassed his previous -expectations. He made no observation, however, but moved on to take -his seat in the great chair, in the centre of the cross table, and -several minutes were spent in arranging the guests according to their -rank and station. Adelaide was placed upon her father's left, Count -Frederick on his right; the priest sat next the lady, and then the -knights around, while Ferdinand, in a courteous tone, assigned the -jester a seat at the angle of the two tables, so that he could -converse with his lord during their meal, according to custom, without -being actually placed at the same table. This arrangement created much -surprise amongst the followers of the house of Ehrenstein, and some -displeasure, but the attendants of Count Frederick seemed to look upon -it as a matter of course. - -Ferdinand himself was about to take a seat much farther down, but, as -he moved towards it, the Count called him up, saying, "Here is room -for you, Ferdinand. Well and faithfully have you done all that was -entrusted to you, and neither a braver heart nor a better head have we -amongst us. I name you the Master of my Household from this hour, and -leave my good guests to your care and courtesy whenever I am not -present." - -"Well may he make him master of his household," said Seckendorf, in a -whisper, to Mosbach, "for he seems master of the spirits as well as -the bodies. I am sure without their help he never could have done all -this." - -"He had Franz Creussen with him," mumbled Karl of Mosbach; "and I -don't see why a boy like that, not knighted yet, should be put over -our heads." - -"He's a good youth, he's a good youth," answered Seckendorf; "and may -well have an office that neither you nor I could manage. We are over -his head in arms, and that is all we have to care about." - -In the mean while Count Frederick had put some question to his -entertainer, who bowed his head, replying, "Yes, the same, Ferdinand -of Altenburg," and the old nobleman instantly rose up, as Ferdinand -advanced with some degree of diffidence, and took him in his arms, -saying, "Ah! good youth, I am right glad to see you. I knew your -father well, a gallant gentleman as ever drew a sword. He died in -foreign lands, many long years ago. We must know each other better, my -son. Here, Philip of Wernheim, I pray you for this night make room for -him beside me." - -"Nay, my good lord," said Ferdinand; "I beseech you excuse me--I must -not displace a noble gentleman so much older and better than myself." - -"There, sit you down, boy," cried the bluff old soldier, to whom the -Count had spoken, taking him by the shoulder and thrusting him into -the seat, with a laugh, "It matters not where a man sits. If he have -honour, he will carry his honour about with him; if he have none, he -may well sit low. I will go place me by my old friend, the Herr von -Narren, and see whether his sharp wit will crack my hard skull." - -Thus saying he moved round, and took a seat at the other side of the -cross table, saying to the jester, in a low tone, as he sat down, -"Why, how now, you seem dull, mein Herr, cheer up." - -The jester suddenly raised his face, and answered, "What makes a cat -mew and a lion roar--a young man fierce and an old man dull?--Hunger, -hunger, Sir Philip! Heaven send the good priest a weak breath and a -strong appetite, for he is rising to bless the meat, I see, and if he -be long about it, like the grace of many another man, it will be a -curse instead of a blessing." - -The priest, however, was as hungry as the rest, and his words quick -and few. The meal began, and for well nigh half an hour it passed -nearly in silence, but then, as the appetite was assuaged, and wine -began to flow, the tongue was allowed time to act as well as the -teeth; and Count Frederick began to urge the jester to speak, though -the latter, either from not having yet satisfied his hunger, or -perhaps from weariness with long travel, seemed little disposed to -indulge his lord. - -"Come, come, my friend," cried Count Frederick, at length; "thou art -playing the silent counsellor to-night,--what dost thou cogitate?" - -"Bitter sweet," answered the jester. "Call you me counsellor, uncle? I -would give you all right good advice and sharp, if you would but take -it--man, woman, and child." - -"Let us hear, let us hear," cried Count Frederick; "then will we judge -whether it be worth the taking. Begin with the lady, cousin, as in -duty-bound." - -"Well, then, here's for her counsel," said the jester, laying his -finger on his brow:-- - - -THE JESTER'S ADVICE TO LADIES. - - "Flaunt not your beauty in the common eye, - Lest, like hedge flowers, it be not thought worth plucking, - Trust to no young man's tender word or sigh; - For even pigs are gentle when they're sucking. - - "Judge of your lover by his deeds to others, - For to yourself he's ever a deceiver. - Mark, girls, your fathers' conduct to your mothers, - And each be, if she can be, a believer." - - -"Good counsel, cousin! good counsel!" cried Count Frederick, "but now -for another. What say you to the young men?" - -"Good faith! uncle, I know not that I have anything to say," answered -the jester; "for whatever age says, youth will not believe, and -whatever wisdom advises, folly will not follow; grace has gone out of -season with garden rue; and wit, as well as wisdom, has become the -property of fools. Argue me now wisely, with a sleek young -crimson-spotted trout, upon the eminent perdition which befalls him if -he snaps at a gay-looking fly with a hook in its belly; yet will your -trout leap at the bait, and soon be flapping his broad tail on the -bank. If the hook break in his jaws, indeed, he will gain wit from his -wound, and look before he leaps another time--experience is the -scourge that drives us all, admonition but a fool's blown bladder, -that makes a sound where it strikes, but no impression. Boys will -after their own game, as a goshawk after a partridge--and a pretty -pair of heels, or a small delicate hand, most kissable and sugary, -rosy lips set in a white skin, like strawberries in cream, and eyes -that say 'Come, love me,' will any day, about feeding time, make a lad -like that jump at a hook that will draw him into the frying-pan. -Heaven help and mend us all! - - - "Beauty's a butterfly, and youth's a boy, - Let him catch it if he can. - When he casts away his toy, - He may learn to be a man." - - -"Pretty Mistress Bertha wouldn't thank him if she could hear that," -said Seckendorf, apart to his fellow-knight. - -"Mistress Bertha!" answered old Mosbach. "I've a notion the young -cockerel carries his eyes higher than that, and all this notice of him -will spoil him. The other day I saw him looking into the Lady -Adelaide's eyes, and she into his, as if they were drinking love -pledges to one another." - -"Pooh! nonsense," answered Seckendorf. "You are always finding out a -nest of cock's eggs, Karl. Have you nothing to say to us, Sir Jester?" -he continued aloud, speaking across the table. - -"Good faith! but little," answered the other; "your old man is worse -to deal with than your young one, for he is as weak in the wit as in -the hams, and his brain, like a worn horse-trough, is ever leaking -with watery talk. - - - "Graybeards and wisdom were married one day;-- - 'Tis a very long time since then-- - But they parted by chance upon the highway - And ne'er came together again. - - "Leave wine, and leave women, graybeard, and leave oaths, - Leave dicing, and jesting, and scoffing; - And thou'lt find thine old wife, dressed in her best clothes, - At thy long journey's end--in the coffin." - - -"There Seckendorf," cried the Count of Ehrenstein, "you have enough, -methinks. For my part; I will not tempt our friend." - -"Then you shall have counsel without asking," answered the jester, and -he went on in his usual rude verse as follows:-- - - - "The noble lord, the just, the true-- - Methinks I see him now-- - Claims from no vassal more than due-- - But gives him more, I trow. - - "No stolen swine grunts in his sty, - No plundered goose complains, - No cackling hens against him cry, - His barn no spoil contains. - - "Quick he restores what's wrongly got, - Without a suit at law, - His sword has never cut a knot, - His fingers could not draw. - - "If such thou art, no danger dread, - In camp, in court, in town, - But if thou'rt not, beware thy head, - For sure thou'lt tumble down." - - -At the first stanza the Lord of Ehrenstein smiled pleasantly, but as -the jester went on to paint a character, which by no stretch of human -vanity he could attribute to himself, his laugh grew somewhat grim, -and although all the customs of the day required that he should seem -amused with the jester's observations, even when they hit him the -hardest, yet he might have made a somewhat tart reply in the shape of -a joke, which he was very well qualified to do, if he had not been -interrupted before he could speak. Just as the jester concluded, -however, a loud, wild, extraordinary burst of martial music drowned -every other sound at the table: clarions and trumpets, drums and -atabals, sounded all round the hall, in a strain so peculiar, that -ears which had once heard it, could never forget it again. Count -Frederick started, and turned towards the Count, exclaiming, "Odds -life! we are in Africa again. Whence got you this Moorish music, my -lord? I have not heard the like since I was at Damietta. You must have -a whole troop of Moslema." - -The Count's cheek had turned very pale, and Ferdinand's eye was seen -wandering round the hall, as if expecting some strange sight suddenly -to present itself. - -"In truth, I know not whence these sounds come," answered the Count, -after a moment's pause for consideration; and he then added, seeing -that any further attempt at concealment would be vain, "It is no -ordinary place, this castle of Ehrenstein, my noble friend. We have -strange sights, and strange sounds here. But what matters it? We are -not men to be frightened by unsubstantial sounds or appearances -either. I drink to your health," and filling his cup high with wine, -he said aloud--the music having by this time ceased, "To Count -Frederick of Leiningen!" - -His guest immediately answered the pledge, saying, "Health to the -Count of Ehrenstein!" but instantly a loud voice echoed through the -hall, pronouncing in a solemn tone, "Health to the Dead!" - -"This is mighty strange!" exclaimed Count Frederick, setting down his -cup scarcely tasted. "Methought I had seen or heard all of wonderful -that this earth can produce, but now I come back to my own land to -witness things stranger still.--This must be Satan's work. We must get -you, good father, to lay this devil." - -"Please you, my noble lord," replied the priest, whose face had turned -as white as paper, "I would rather have nothing to do with him. There -is the Abbey hard by, surely the good fathers there could keep the -place free from spirits if they liked it.--It is their business, not -mine, and as I see the lady is rising, by my troth, I will go to bed -too, for I am somewhat weary with our long marches." - -"It may be better for us all to do so, too," said Count Frederick; but -his host pressed him to stay longer so earnestly, that he sat down for -a few minutes, while Adelaide and the priest retired from the hall. -The retainers of the two noblemen did not venture to follow their own -inclinations and the priest's example, but, though the Lord of -Ehrenstein pressed the wine hard upon them, all mirth was at an end, -and whispered conversations alone went on, except between the two -counts, who spoke a few words from time to time, in a louder tone, but -evidently with a great effort, and at the end of about a quarter of an -hour, during which there was no further interruption, Count Frederick -rose,--begging his entertainer to excuse him, for retiring to rest. - -All were eager to rise, and to get out of a place where none of them -felt themselves in security; but Ferdinand touched his lord's arm, as, -with a gloomy brow, he was following his guest from the hall, saying, -in a low voice, "What is to be done with all this gold and silver, my -lord? we shall never persuade the sewers to clear it away to-night." - -"I know not," answered the Count, moodily, but aloud. "You must lock -the door, or stay and watch." - -Ferdinand fell back, and suffered the stream to pass by him, -meditating thoughtfully upon how he should act. As was not uncommon in -those days, there was a good deal of confusion in his mind in regard -to matters of superstitious belief. Persons of strong intellect, -however rude the education which they had received, were not easily -induced to suppose that beings merely spiritual could have the powers -and faculties of corporeal creatures, and although few doubted the -fact of apparitions, being frequently seen, and even heard to speak, -yet they did not believe in general that they had any power of dealing -with substantial bodies. Thus, when Ferdinand thought of the events of -the preceding night, although he could not doubt the evidence of his -own senses, yet the fact of the banner having been changed puzzled him -a good deal, and in his straightforward simplicity he asked himself, -"If ghosts can carry away so heavy a thing as a banner and a banner -pole, why should they not take silver tankards and golden cups?" He -looked at the different articles that strewed the tables with a -doubtful eye, at first proposing to move them to a safer place -himself, but upon the cross table were many large silver plates and -dishes loaded with fragments of the meal, and he felt a repugnance to -undertake for any one an office unsuited to his birth. To lock the -door and leave the things to their fate, he could not help thinking -might be merely consigning the valuable stores that were there -displayed to a place from which they were never likely to -return--whether above the earth or under the earth, he did not stop to -inquire--and at length, after a little hesitation, he said, "I will -stay and watch. They did me no harm last night, why should they harm -me to-night? I can rest here as well as in my bed, and I should like -to see more of these strange things.--They are awful, it is true; but -yet, what has one to fear with God and a good conscience,--I will -stay." - -Just as he came to this resolution, he heard a returning step in the -vestibule, the door leading, to which had been left open behind the -retreating crowd, and the next minute the face of the jester appeared -looking in. "Ha, ha! good youth," he said; "are you going to stay -here, like a bait in a rat-trap, till our friends the ghosts come and -nibble you? I heard what your excellent, good lord said,--a wise man! -an admirably wise man! who understands the craft of princes, and -leaves his followers a pleasant choice, in which they are sure to get -blame or danger, in whatever way they act. What do you intend to do? -lock up the door and leave the cups and tankards for devils to drink -withal? or to wait and bear them company, if they choose to come and -have a merry bout with you?" - -"I shall stay and watch," answered Ferdinand; "I am not a steward or a -scullion, to move plates and dishes, and if I leave them here Heaven -only knows where they will be to-morrow!" - -"Then, good faith! I'll stay and watch with you, Sir Ferdinand," -answered the jester; "two fools are better than one, at any time, and -one by profession and one by taste ought to be a match for a score or -two of spirits, whether they be black, white, or grey." - -"I've a notion, Herr von Narren," answered Ferdinand; "that you have -less of a fool in you than many who would be more ashamed of the -name." - -"Good lack!" answered the jester, "you do my wit but little justice, -youth. Who would not be a fool, when wise men do such things every -day. Better to profess folly at once, of your own good will, than to -have other men put the cap upon your head. A fool has one great -advantage over a wise man which no one will deny him--a fool can be -wise when he pleases, a wise man cannot be foolish when he likes. Oh! -the bauble for ever; I would not change my motley just yet for a robe -of miniver. But we'll watch, we'll watch, and we'll make ourselves -comfortable too. By my faith! it gets cold of nights, or else the -chilly wing of another world is flapping through this old hall. Go, -get some logs, good youth, and we'll have a fire then; with our toes -upon the andirons, and our chins in our palms. By the beard of St. -Barnabas, we'll tell old stories of strange things gone by, till the -cock shall crow before we know it. You are not afraid to leave me with -the tankards, I suppose, for, on my life, I drink fair with every man, -and have no itch for silver." - -"Oh no, I do not fear," answered Ferdinand, "and I'll soon bring logs -enough for the night. A cheerful blaze will do us no harm, and I shall -be glad of your company." - -Thus saying, he left the place, and from the great coffer at the -entrance of the lesser hall, he soon loaded himself with sufficient -wood, as he thought, to last the night. When he re-entered the great -hall, he found the jester walking back from the other end towards the -centre, where the fireplace stood; and as he came near, the young man -inquired, "Were you talking to yourself just now, Herr von Narren?" - -"Nay, good sooth, that were waste of words," answered the jester. "I -was peeping through yonder keyhole, and as it is a mighty ghostly -looking door, I thought I might as well tell the spirits not to -disturb us, as we had much to talk about. They took it all in good -part, poor things, and said nothing; though after all it would be but -charity to let them come and have a warm at our good fire, for it must -be cold down stairs, I fancy, and your ghost is thinly clad. Where -does yon door lead to, good youth?" - -"To the serfs burying vault," answered Ferdinand, "and then to the old -chapel under the new one." - -"Ha, ha! all convenient for the ghosts," said the jester, "but there -must be a number of sad Turks amongst them to make such a noise with -their atabals as they did to-night. There, you reach me down a lamp, -while I lay the sticks. Trust a fool for making a fire, if he do not -make it too large: then he may burn his own fingers, and the house -too. We will put out half the sconces, and so, we shall have -candle-light till the morning, when the sun and the tapers may wink at -each other, like merry maids upon a May-day." - -The fire was soon lighted, and the suggestion regarding the sconces -carried into execution; after which, Ferdinand and the jester drew two -stools into the wide chimney, and the latter bringing the large flagon -of wine and two cups from the cross table, set the beaker down upon -the hearth, saying, "We will drink and keep our spirits up." - -"Nay," answered Ferdinand, "I want no wine for that purpose. I will -take one cup, for I have had none to-night, and I have worked hard -during the day, but if I took more, I should sleep and not watch." - -"Ay, young brains are soon addled, like a pigeon's egg," answered the -jester. "And so you are Ferdinand of Altenburg?" - -Ferdinand nodded his head, answering, with a smile, "No other." - -"You are a bold man," said his companion, "to give me such an answer." - -"How so?" demanded Ferdinand, "I must surely know who I am myself." - -"If you know yourself, you are the first man that ever did," replied -the jester. "Your father was a proper man." - -"Indeed! did you know him?" exclaimed Ferdinand. - -"Oh, dear no, not at all," said the Herr von Narren, "but my uncle -Frederick told us so at supper. I knew your grand-father and -your great-grandfather, and I was distantly related to his -great-grandfather; for as Adam was the first of my ancestors, and all -his race sprang from Eve, there was some connection between us, either -by blood or matrimony--Do you remember your father?" - -"No," answered Ferdinand, "I was but a mere boy when he died." - -"Ay, then you were not long acquainted," said the jester. "I remember -mine quite well, and how he used to tickle me with his beard--that's -longer ago than you recollect, or than you could if you would, for to -ask you for a long memory in your short life, would be like putting a -gallon of wine into a pint stoup--But I'll tell you a story, cousin." - -"What is it about?" asked Ferdinand, drinking some of the wine out of -the cup he held in his hand. "Is it a story of fate, or about the -Saracens, or of knightly deeds here in our own land?" - -"A little of all, a little of all, cousin," answered the jester. "It's -a Saturday's stew, containing fragments of all things rich and rare, -with a sauce of mine own composing. Now listen and you shall hear. -Once upon a time there was a prince--we'll call him prince for want of -a better name; without offence too, for a prince may be a gentleman -sometimes--well, this prince lived at ease in his own land--for you -see he had neither wife nor child to vex him--and a very merry prince -he was. Well might he be so, too, for everybody did just what he -liked, and he drank the best wine and ate the best meat, and slept -upon good goose-feathers which he had not the trouble of plucking; and -then, moreover, he had a jester who was fit to make any heart gay. -Besides this jester, he had a brother, a wise man and a thoughtful, -full of all sorts of learning; for they wished to make a bishop of -him, but he loved the sword better than the coif, and all he learned -in the convent was Latin and Greek, and reading and writing, and -Aristotle, and Duns Scotus, and to love nobody better than himself." - -"Ha!" exclaimed Ferdinand, beginning to think that he perceived some -drift in the man's tale, but he made no observation, and the jester -continued. - -"Well, the prince loved his brother very much, and they lived together -in the same castle, and passed their time pleasantly; they hunted -together, and they made a little war, and then they made a little -peace; and while the men at arms played at mutton-bones in the -court-yard, the two lords played at chess in the hall--and I can tell -you, that though the brother, won the first game, the prince won the -second, and the jester stood by and laughed. Merrily passed, the time, -and if men would but be contented in this world, life would be like a -summer day, but the brother was always urging the prince to this war -or that, for the glory of their house, as he called it; and sometimes -he went himself, and sometimes he stayed at home to take care of the -castle, while the prince followed his advice; and then the brother one -day thought it would be a good thing for the prince to go and visit -Jerusalem, and that it would be honourable, as he knew something of -hard blows and of leading armies, to help the knights hospitallers and -other sagacious men who were fighting for the pure pleasure of the -thing, to get lands which they could not keep when they had got them. -And the prince thought it a very good plan; and as he had got a great -number of chests full of money, he went away to sow it in the fields -of Syria, and to see if it would grow there. As he had a multitude of -stout young men, too, who always required bleeding in the summer time, -he took them with him, but as his brother was of a cold constitution, -he left him at home to keep house. Now the prince having neither wife -nor child, his dear brother was his heir." - -"I see," said Ferdinand. "Go on, Herr!" - -"Before they went," continued the jester, "the brother had a good deal -of talk with some of the prince's followers, and told them how much he -loved their dear lord. He did not say that he wished him dead; oh -dear, no, that was not the way at all; but he told them all that he -would do if he were prince, and how he would promote them, and left -Sir Satan, the king of all evil imaginations, to deal with their -consciences as he might find expedient. Well, the prince went away, -and took with him his jester as his chief counsellor, though he never -took his counsel either, for if he had he would have staid at home. -But so they went on up by the Boden Sea, and then by the Vorarlberg -and through the Tyrol, kissing the Emperor's hand at Inspruck, and -then came to Venice, and there they had an audience of the Duke; and -at Venice they staid a long time, for there was a fair Venetian lady -that the prince loved passing well--" and the jester paused, and gazed -thoughtfully into the fire for several moments. - -"That has nothing to do with my tale, however," he continued, at -length. "The prince went on, and after long journeying, he came to the -place whither he was going; and though it was once a land flowing with -milk and honey, very little honey and no milk was to be found there -then. So, to keep down their appetites, he and his followers took to -fighting in real earnest; one day, however, a certain officer of the -prince, and a great friend of his brother's, brought him word that -there were a number of Moslem in a valley not far from the castle -where they were, and that if he would go out with his men, while the -knights of the hospital guarded the castle, he might have them all as -cheap as gudgeons. The prince had some doubts of his friend, and sent -out for better intelligence, but finding that all that he said seemed -very true, he got upon horseback, and sallied forth with his people. -About three or four miles from the castle, however, he was suddenly -surrounded and attacked on all sides by a number of the Moslem, of -whom his officer had quite forgotten to tell him, though they had been -watching there since daybreak. Nevertheless he fought tolerably well, -considering he was a prince, and he and his men might perhaps have got -out of the trap, by the force of impudence and a strong arm, if his -friend the officer had not come behind him just then and struck him a -gentle stroke, with something sharp, in the neck, about the place -where the gorget joins the cuirass. Upon that the prince incontinent -tumbled headlong off his horse; the Moslem closed in on all sides, and -with their sharp scimeters sent the heads flying about like pippins -shaken off a tree. All were killed or taken except one, who got -through and galloped away, first carrying the news of the defeat to -the knights of St. John in the castle, and then to the prince's -brother at home." - -"This was of course the traitor who murdered his lord," exclaimed -Ferdinand, who had listened with ever-growing interest. - -"Oh dear, no," replied the jester; "his friends the Moslem kept him, -but thought he would be safer in two pieces, and so they separated his -head from his shoulders." - -"A very wise precaution," answered Ferdinand, "the true way of -recompensing traitors. And what became of the jester? He was taken -prisoner, I suppose?" - -"Yes, he was," answered his companion. "But now listen; I am coming to -the most curious part of my story, and that is the history of the -prince's followers after they were dead. One clear, moonlight night, I -have heard say, just as they were all lying in the rocky valley, where -they had fallen, and their bones, well picked by the wild beasts of -that country, were shining white amongst the bushes and large stones, -there came suddenly amongst them a tall thin figure, like a shadow on -the wall, through which you could see the rocks, and the branches, and -the round-faced moon, just as if it had been the horn-plate of a -lantern; and it stooped over the bones, and looked at them, and -counted them one by one, and then it said to each fleshless head, -separately,--'The man whose insinuations brought about your death, has -strangled me in the vaults of his castle, though he knew that I was -innocent. Rise up, then, all that were true to their prince, and come, -let us to his brother's house, and plague him night and day,--at his -board, and in his bed. Let us give him no rest so long as he remains -upon the earth!' - -"The moment he had spoken, slowly rising out of the ground, came a -number of thin, shadowy figures, like himself, and they mounted calmly -into the air, and floated away towards this land, just as you see a -cloud rise out of the west, and soar slowly along, casting a shadow as -it flies. Where they went to, and what they did, let the wise say; I -know not. Only this I know, and that I heard from one who saw it, that -the prince's followers, a great many years after they were killed and -lying on the dry Syrian ground, rose up, man by man, each just like -his own living self, and came away to their own land to torment their -good lord's bad brother. One, indeed, remained behind, but he was the -man who smote his prince in the neck when he was contending with the -infidels; but doubtless the Moslem pickled him, for he was worth -preserving, and salt meat keeps better than fresh, you know, Sir -Ferdinand." - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - - -Ferdinand's teeth were set hard, and his hands clasped tight together -as the jester's story ended, and for a moment or two he did not speak; -but at length he inquired, "And how long was it ago that the good lord -fell?" - -"Oh, a long while," answered his companion, "long enough for young men -to grow old, and for old men to wither and rot. Some twenty years ago -or more. Lackaday how few twenties there are in life. Twenty and -twenty are forty, and twenty are sixty: how few see the fourth twenty! -Who sees the fifth? The first begins in the infant, with a passion for -milk; all mouth and no wit; and ends in the youth with a love for -sweet ankles and for cherry lips; all heart and no brains. The second -starts on his course like a swallow catching insects, and ends like a -slough-hound upon the track of a deer: ambition flies before and -distances him still. Then begins another twenty, with the hard brain -and the hard heart; your man of manifold experiences, who finds no -pleasure in pippins, and is mailed against the darts of a dark eye. He -must have solid goods, forsooth! and so chooses gold, which will not -decay; but, good faith! it matters little whether it be the possession -which decays, or the possessor, whether the gilded coin rots, or the -fingers that clutch it: the two part company all the same. Then comes -the fourth twenty, often begun and seldom ended; and we go creeping -backward, as if we would fain run away from the other end of life; top -please as, straws offend us; we stumble at the same mole-hills that -tripped up our infancy. Time rubs off from the score of memory what -experience had written; and when the sorrowful soft gums have eaten -their second pap, death takes us sleepy up and puts us quietly to bed. -It was twenty years ago, good youth,--ay, that it was,--and twenty -years is one of those strange jumps that are more wisely taken -backwards than forwards." - -"Methinks," said Ferdinand, "that though the time is so long, I know -something of this story, too--". But before he could add more, a -slight sort of creaking noise was heard proceeding from the end of the -hall, near the chair of state. Ferdinand, whose face was already in -that direction, and the jester who suddenly turned round, saw the -small door which has been so often mentioned open slowly, exposing the -mouth of the passage beyond. - -"Ah, who have we here?" cried the jester. "Some of our friends from -over the sea, I suppose;" but no one appeared, and all was silent. -Both the watchers rose, and gazed for a minute or two towards the -door; Ferdinand grasping the cross of his sword, but the jester -showing no sign either of alarm or surprise. - -"By my faith!" he exclaimed, at length, "I will see what is beyond, -there. Will you come with me youth, or shall I go alone?" - -"I should think from the tale you have told," answered Ferdinand, -"that you know your way right well without guidance. But I will go -with you, whatever is there--I have been once, and will not be stopped -from going again." - -"Come along, then," answered the jester. "Let us each take a lamp, -cousin, for the dead must lack lights, as they always choose to walk -in darkness. Why is a ghost like a flagon of wine?" - -"Nay, I know not," answered Ferdinand, "and to say truth, I am in no -jesting mood just now." - -"Because it comes out of the vault at midnight," answered the jester, -"and where it enters there it scatters men's wits about. Happy he who -has none to scatter. But come along, cousin, we'll soon see whether -our spirits are equal to theirs--I feel rather queer, but a mole -wouldn't mind it, for he's accustomed to holes in the earth." - -Thus saying, he led the way to the door, and entered the long narrow -passage, Ferdinand following, and each carrying a lamp. The jester's -young companion, though busied with many other thoughts, watched his -movements closely, in order to obtain a confirmation or refutation of -the suspicions which his tale had excited. - -Those suspicions, however, were strengthened by all that the young man -remarked, "Damp, damp and chilly, as a rich man's heart," murmured the -jester, as he advanced; and then, as if his knowledge of the passages -which they were following was not of a few hours' growth, he laid his -hand upon the door, at the farther end, and without hesitation drew it -towards him, choosing at once the way which it really opened. He next -passed on down the stone steps, without a moment's pause to consider, -merely turning round and saying, "Take care of your lamp, cousin, for -a light extinguished in this world is not easily lighted again, -whether it be love's lamp or life's. A puff puts them out, but a puff -won't bring them in again. By the mass! the stones are somewhat -slippery, and as much out of repair as a fool's head or a -spendthrift's purse. I must mind my way; for here, as on ambition's -ladder, a small slip would make a great tumble." - -"By my faith! you seem to know your way right well, Herr von Narren," -said Ferdinand, "better than I do, methinks." - -"Ay, ay, folly finds the straight road, while wisdom is looking for -the short cut," answered the jester. "One can't well miss their way -when there is but one. But there seem no ghosts here, except the -spirit of Mistress Mildew, and she is very prevalent. We shall lose -our time, and get no payment for chilling our bones, if we get no -better apparition than this green slime. I would give a great deal to -see a ghost. I never met with one in all my travels." - -"Perhaps you may be gratified to-night," rejoined Ferdinand, "for here -they wander, if anywhere." - -"If anywhere!" exclaimed the jester, "did any one ever hear such -heretical unbelief? We know that the church supports them, because, I -suppose, the poor things are too thin and unsubstantial to stand of -themselves. However, here we are at the bottom; praised be Heaven's -mercy in not bringing us there sooner! And here is a door. Now, marry, -you and other men of shrewd wits would doubtless be looking for -another, but I take the one that stands before me, the sunshine of my -darkness teaching me that that which is at hand is always nearer than -that which is far off. Now let us see, it should be pulled this way, -by the look of the lock and the hinges, but if it be locked, what -then?" and he paused for a minute or two seeming to consider curiously -the question before he proceeded to ascertain the fact. - -"Come, come, Herr von Narren," said Ferdinand, "you know it opens this -way well enough, and doubtless it is not locked, and if it be, I have -a key that will open it." - -"What! then you come hither often," said the jester, "no wonder you -are less afraid of haunted places than the rest." - -"I do not come here often," said Ferdinand, somewhat vexed at the -incautious admission he had made, "I have been here but once in my -life before, and even that I do not wish mentioned," and stretching -forth his arm, he pulled back the door, before which his companion was -apparently inclined to hold a long parley. - -"Bless the lad's heart!" cried the jester, "he seems to think that -his light words will stay in a fool's head for an hour. My brain is -not bird-lime, boy, to catch your fluttering things, and put them in -the trap. But now, what place is this?" and he took a step forward and -looked round, holding up the lamp in his hand. - -"This is the Serf's Burial-Vault," answered Ferdinand, in a low voice, -remembering, with a sensation of awe that he could not overcome, the -strange and fearful sights which he had there beheld. - -"Hold up your lamp," said the jester, in a grave tone, "I wish to see -around me." - -But the darkness, as before, was too thick to be pierced for any -distance by the feeble rays of the two lamps, and the next moment, to -his surprise, the young man heard his companion demand aloud, "Where -art thou, Walter?" - -"Here!" answered a deep tone instantly; and following the sound, the -jester advanced direct towards the column, to which the skeleton was -bound by the chain. There he paused, and gazed upon it, as if that had -been the object he sought; and the emotions which he experienced, -whatever they were, seemed to overpower him, and make him forget for -the time the presence of his companion. His eyes filled with tears, -"Honest, and faithful, and true," he cried, "and was this the fate -reserved for thee? All could be forgiven but this--This cannot, if -there be justice on earth or in heaven," and bending down his head, he -slightly raised the bony fingers in his own, and pressed his lips upon -the mouldering joints. - -There was a faint sound, as of sobbing loud, but Ferdinand's strange -companion took no notice of it, and continued gazing upon the skeleton -for several minutes, with a look of deep and intense thought in his -eye, as it wandered up and down the fleshless limbs. Then suddenly -turning away, he said, "Come on," and striding forward to the further -side of the vault, he passed through the archway into the crypt or -lower chapel. Taking no notice of several of the monuments on either -side, and only giving a glance to the coffins, he went straight to the -tomb of grey marble, on which was sculptured a lady in the attitude of -prayer, and there kneeling for a few moments by the side, he seemed to -busy himself in silent devotions. After which, rising he turned to -Ferdinand, and said, in a mild but no sportive tone, "It is done. Go -back to the hall, good youth, and wait for me there. I will not be -long, and nothing will annoy you by the way." - -Ferdinand might think it all strange, but yet the words of his -companion seemed to have a power over him which he could not resist, -and turning back he retrod his steps to the hall, where, after having -closed the door, he seated himself before the fire to wait for the -jester's return. - -Light-hearted youth, that season of great powers and small -experiences, may feel strong and deep emotions, but their influence, -on the corporeal frame at least, is not very permanent. Weary with a -long day's exertion, and having had little rest for the three or four -nights preceding, Ferdinand's eyes felt heavy; and that pleasant -languor which precedes sleep stole over his limbs. He wished to remain -awake; but yet he leaned back for support against the stone-work of -the wide chimney; and in a few minutes he nodded, woke up again, and -then fell into sound slumber. He was awakened by a heavy hand grasping -his shoulder; and looking round he saw the jester standing beside him, -with the fire in its last embers, on the hearth, and the lamps burning -dim. - -"I must wake you, cousin," said his companion. "For we shall soon have -Madam Morning winking at us with her old grey eye. Sleep is better -than waking for some good reasons, but it must come to an end, coz!" - -"Is it so late?" asked Ferdinand. "I thought that I had just closed my -eyes!" - -"Yes, that is the blessing of youth," said the jester; "he thinks not, -either sleeping or waking. He dreams while he is waking, and forgets -while he is sleeping, and therein has he the two best gifts that man -can covet--to dream and to forget." - -"I doubt not, from all I see," answered the young man, "that there are -many things you would wish to forget, were it possible." - -"Hark ye, cousin," said the jester; "one thing we had both better try -to forget, to-wit, that we have been in those vaults together. I have -a secret of yours, you have one of mine. We will each keep what we -have got, and give it away to nobody, for that would be thriftless." - -"Nay, I have nought to tell," answered Ferdinand; "though perhaps -something to inquire, Herr von Narren. I may suspect, and I do; but I -can do no more than suspect. But one thing I must ask; what you came -here for? as I can know of no evil to my lord without preventing it, -otherwise I am a traitor!" - -"Why, what evil can I do?" asked the jester, with a smile; "what power -have I? Is the fool's bauble equal to a baron's sword? Good faith! I -will go to the wars, and turn out a great conqueror.--I intend your -lord no harm, cousin." - -"But you said there was something not to be forgiven," replied -Ferdinand. - -"Nor will it," said his companion, somewhat sternly; "if there be -justice in Heaven; but to Heaven I leave it; and in its own good time -I doubt not to see vengeance fall where it ought. What is it that you -suspect?" - -"That you were the follower of the late Count of Ehrenstein," answered -Ferdinand, frankly; "the jester you mentioned in the tale you told; -and that even now you seek to revenge the Count's death." - -His companion laughed aloud. "How thy wits jump!" he said; "but in one -way, like an ill-broken colt, they jump too far. I seek not to avenge -that Count's death; and by all that I hold sacred, I myself will never -attempt it; so let that satisfy thee, good youth." - -"And yet, perhaps, I ought to inform the Count of who you are;" -replied the young man, thoughtfully. - -"That you cannot do," answered the jester; "and if you believe that -the tale I told applies to your lord and his brother, you neither will -nor ought. Vipers have viper's eggs--rogues serve rogues; and the -blood in your veins would cry out against you, if you were to make -your mind the bondsman of a felon. If you think my tale is true, quit -this household in silence, for your own honour; if you do not believe -the tale to be applicable here, remain in silence. But if you would -needs speak, I will seal your lips with one word." - -"Ay! what is that?" asked Ferdinand, in some surprise. - -"Adelaide!" answered the jester, fixing his keen eyes upon him. "Is -there nothing, good youth, that you seek to conceal as well as myself; -nay, far more than I do? for I have nought to fear--you much. I care -not; but that it would sadden merry meetings, and break off gay -intercourse, if your good Count should know all that you know, and -more.--Indeed, I promise you, that ere I depart from this -neighbourhood, he shall hear the whole tale. He would less dare to wag -a finger against me, protected as I am, than jump from the top of the -keep; but I must choose my own time and my own way to speak, and it -must not be now." - -Ferdinand had coloured high when the name of Adelaide was pronounced, -and now he remained silent while his companion went on in a tone so -different from that which he generally used in his jester's capacity. -An instant after, however, the other suddenly resumed his ordinary -manner, and exclaimed, "So that is settled between the two fools who -sat up all night watching for that which did not come.--Marry, had we -liked it, cousin, we might have proved ourselves the wise men of the -party; for with plenty of wine and good cheer, we had wherewithal to -be merry and wise. Now, however, we are sorry fools; for we have -neither emptied the flagons nor cleared the dishes, and vinegar will -be cheap in the market if all that wine stands there much longer." - -"It may serve as a bribe to bring some of the knaves in by daylight, -to clear away the tables," answered Ferdinand. "There is more than one -amongst them who would sell his own soul for a flagon of strong -drink." - -"Then is his soul dirt cheap, or a very bad one," answered the jester; -"but, on my life, I believe the market price of men's souls is half a -florin; for day by day we see them sold for less. The twinkle of a -girl's eyes is current coin against such commodities; the pottle-pot -drives a thriving trade in the mart of spirits; and two small pieces -of ivory spotted with black, have nearly emptied the world's fold of -its true sheep. But there comes the morning. See the panes of glass in -the casement are looking grey, we shall soon have the sun up, red and -blear-eyed like a drunkard who has sat up all night with the stoup. -I'll hie me to bed, for my wit will want activity, and, good faith! it -is getting somewhat weak in the knees." - -"It must be a heavy task to be ever ready with a jest, even when the -heart is sad," said Ferdinand. - -"What! a heavy task to find light wit?" exclaimed the jester. "No, -good youth; let a man but look at life as he ought, and the burden is -easily borne. All things here are but jests; some sour, some sweet; -some light, some heavy. If we cannot laugh with, we can laugh at; and -but get your wit into a cantering habit, and he'll forget his grave -paces and trip lightly along the road. Habit, habit, habit, cousin! -everything is habit in this world. What is that makes the man eat what -the child rejects? Custom. What makes us endure a load of clothes that -Heaven never intended us to wear? Custom. Put a pair of tawny leather -shoes upon a child's bare feet, and he will stumble over the rushes on -the floor; yet, see how gaily the youth will trip along, as if he had -been born into the world booted and spurred. The eye and the ear, the -tongue and the nose, all have their habits. Go into a strange land, -and you will split your sides at the odd dresses of the people. Stay -there a year, and you will think your own countrymen as comical. The -blast of the trumpet cracks a lady's ears; ask the knight and his war -horse if ever they heard sweeter music. Good sooth! I do believe, if -men ate dirt and ashes for a month, they would think them better than -stewed ducks or a brawn's head; and thus with me, though jesting be a -sorry trade enough when the heart is full or the stomach empty, yet, -either from lack of continence, or discretion, I began early, and now -the jest always gets the better of the lamentation, and finds vent -first. But look at the red light on the floor. It is time for night -fowls to roost. Give you good morning, cousin Ferdinand, I am away to -my pallet." - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - - -The morning was dull and heavy, though fully risen, when Ferdinand of -Altenburg was summoned to the Count's chamber; but by that time he -could bear the tidings to his lord that all had been cleared away from -the hall at the sacrifice of the wine which had been left there. - -"Enough was left, indeed, to render the knaves half drunk," he added; -"but it had the effect of making them swear, by all they held sacred, -that they will never shun the hall again, if it were haunted by whole -troops of goblins." - -"We shall not need to try them, Ferdinand," replied the Count. "We -must change our plan, good youth. We must not have our food poisoned -by doubts and fears." - -The Count spoke thoughtfully, pausing when he had done; and Ferdinand -replied, "I am glad you have taken such a resolution; my good lord. It -is true, I fear these things not; but still it is high time that -something should be done to inquire into this matter, or to remove it. -You have yourself now heard, and I have seen strange things, of which, -I trust, some holy man, some priest of a good and saintly life, may be -able to free us." - -"No, no," replied the Lord of Ehrenstein, "we will have no priests, -lad, nor monks either. They can do nought in this or aught else, but -in crafty policy, where the hundred-headed and perpetual monster sets -all her everlasting wits to work. I know their ways right well, for I -was bred to be one of them.--No, no! We will have no priests to meddle -and to babble here, and tell the broad world that I was plagued with -spirits at my very hearth. That were an old woman's remedy, and I will -not submit myself to such were there none other in the world. Not so, -not so will we set to work; but for the future we will take our meals -in separate parties: some in the lesser hall, some in the two rooms on -either side--but what makes you look so dull, as if your mind were -roaming to other things?--You were not disturbed, you say?" - -"Oh no, my lord, this last night I saw nothing," answered Ferdinand; -"but I am weary and feel heavy eyed, having slept but little for -several nights." - -"Well, hie thee to bed then for a while," replied the Count; but he -was not yet satisfied; for there were signs rather of thought than of -slumber in the young man's face; and with suspicions, aroused of he -knew not well what, he resolved to watch him more carefully. - -The day passed nearly without events. The whole party seemed relieved, -when they found that the haunted hall was no more to be visited. The -Count and his noble guest walked for a great part of the morning on -the battlements, in earnest conversation; the knights and soldiers -amused themselves with the sports and games of the day in the courts -and chambers, and the hour of noon brought with it the usual meal. -During the whole morning, Adelaide and Ferdinand did not meet; and -even at dinner, by the Count's arrangement, the young man was sent to -superintend another room, where a table was spread for some of the -chief officers of both households. One glance as he passed through the -hall was all that he obtained, and he thought that Adelaide's eyes -looked anxious. Count Frederick was standing on one side of the lady, -and his young follower, Martin of Dillberg, on the other, as the lover -crossed the hall; and on the face of Dillberg there were smiles and -sweet looks, which made Ferdinand's breast feel warm with sensations -he had never before experienced. Doubt or suspicion, in regard to -Adelaide herself, he could not entertain; but yet jealousy has many -stages, and Ferdinand hated Count Frederick's follower heartily from -that moment. He felt--or fancied that they were rivals, and perhaps, -in the whole range of bitter emotions, there is none more painful than -that which we endure, when we know that even for a time a rival has -the ear of her we love. At the meal, he tried to be cheerful as well -as courteous, and though it cost him a great effort to conceal his -uneasiness, yet his manner was so pleasing to all, that he rose high -in the opinion of Count Frederick's train, and even at the table, -almost within his own hearing, comparisons were made between him and -Martin of Dillberg not very favourable to the latter. - -"I love him not," said one; "I never have; and the more I see of him -the less I like him. Were he like this young squire, one could -understand our lord's favour for him." - -"Ay," answered an elder man to whom he had been speaking, "our lord -will rue that favour one of these days. He is cunning and false, ever -making his own tale good, and seeking to injure others. I never saw -one yet, who was so artful and malicious when he was young, that did -not commit some treachery before he was old." - -"Ay, the Count is beginning to know him, I believe," rejoined the -first, "saw you not how he chid him for the falsehood he told of -Sigismond. He would have done better to send him away at once; but he -bears with him because his father was a good soldier and an honest -man." - -"Ay, and his mother a devil incarnate," answered the other. "She broke -his father's heart, betrayed his honour, and ruined him; and this -youth is her very image." - -In such comments, more than one at the table indulged very freely; but -Ferdinand heard them not, for he was conversing somewhat eagerly with -one of Count Frederick's younger knights, though the subject was of no -greater interest than the history of the jester. Ferdinand sought for -information to confirm or remove the suspicions he entertained, but he -could obtain little, and indeed his companion did not seem disposed to -communicate much. "I was with a different band," he said, in answer to -one of the young man's questions, "when this man joined the Count." - -"Then he did join him in the Holy Land?" asked Ferdinand. - -"I believe so," was the reply, "but I know nought as certain. He might -have known the Count before." - -"I have heard he saved your leader's life," said the young man. - -"Yes, so they say," rejoined the knight. "I was not present, and know -nothing of it." - -All further questions were equally fruitless, and Ferdinand turning -the conversation to the subject which the others had been discussing, -inquired, "Who is Martin of Dillberg, whom your lord seems also to -love right well?" - -"Nay, that is a mistake," answered the knight. "He shows him favour, -it is true; but I have twice seen the question hang in the balance -whether my lord would not strike his head off, once for taking a jewel -off a dead man's hand, and once for betraying counsel. But he is as -cunning as a fox, and raised a doubt, by one means or another, as to -whether he did not intend to carry the ring to the widow. The other -fault was forgiven on the score of youth, but with a warning, that if -he so offended again, death would be his doom without reprieve." - -"Perchance he is valiant in arms," said Ferdinand; "I have ever heard -that Count Frederick will forgive much to gallant men." - -His companion smiled and shook his head, saying, "He is no great -seeker of renown, this youth. Yet he is brave after a certain fashion -too. There are some men, and he is one of them, who would risk ten -times the danger of a battle-field, to accomplish a small matter -cunningly. He seems to enjoy his own art so much, that if it costs his -life he must practise it, especially if it be to the injury of -others." - -"A pleasant comrade in a band like yours," rejoined Ferdinand; and -there the conversation dropped. - -The meal was drawing near its conclusion, when some noise was heard in -the adjoining hall, of a different kind from that which had preceded, -though in those days, as often at present, the hour of dinner was a -noisy one. The Count of Ehrenstein's voice could be distinguished -asking questions with angry vehemence, and every now and then another -answering, while the tones of Count Frederick joined in from time to -time even more sharply. - -"What is the matter in there, Henry?" asked Ferdinand, as one of the -sewers passed through, bearing some dishes. - -"A party of Venetian traders, Sir, have been stopped, and plundered -beyond Anweiler," replied the man, "and it seems they had gold with -them belonging to Count Frederick; so they have sent up to seek -redress and help. One of them has been killed, they say." - -"Who has done it?" asked the young gentleman. "I thought such bands -had been put down." - -"Oh, it is the Baron of Eppenfeld," said the sewer; "he will never -give up that trade; and his place is so strong, it will be difficult -to force him." - -Thus saying, he went on, and the thoughts of all present turned to the -results that were likely to ensue from the event that had just -occurred. "Count Frederick will not be long out of the saddle," -observed one of his attendants; "it is not well to pull the beard of -an old lion." - -"I doubt we shall have enough here to right the affair," rejoined an -old soldier; "it is unlucky that one-half of the band marched on." - -"But the Count of Ehrenstein will not suffer his friend to go -unaided," answered Ferdinand. "He can call out two hundred men at -arms." - -"That would indeed be serviceable," said the knight, "and doubtless he -will do it; for I have heard that this gold belonged to the late -Count, and was found safely treasured in a castle of the Knights' -Hospitallers on the coast." - -Ferdinand was about to answer, when old Seckendorf put in his head, -exclaiming, "Here, here, Ferdinand, the Count would speak with you;" -and instantly rising, the young man followed into the neighbouring -hall. He found the two Counts apparently much excited, speaking -together eagerly, and a tall grave looking elderly man in foreign -garments standing beside them, occasionally joining in their -conversation, which went on for some time after Ferdinand of Altenburg -had entered. - -At length the Count of Ehrenstein turned towards him, saying, "Here is -an occasion for you, Ferdinand. The Baron of Eppenfeld has waylaid -these merchants on their way hither,--from good information of their -coming it would seem, but how obtained, Heaven knows. He has seized -all their baggage, and in it treasure belonging to me. It is judged -but courteous to suppose that he is ignorant, that I am interested, -and therefore, instead of going in arms to demand reparation at once, -I send to claim that all be instantly restored to these noble -merchants, and that compensation be given for the death of one of -their valets and the wounds of another: that compensation to be -awarded by myself and Count Frederick here. You shall be my messenger; -take with you ten men at your choice, and depart at once, so that you -be back before morning. If Eppenfeld will restore all and make -compensation, well; if not, defy him in my name and in that of Count -Frederick. The task is one of honour, though of some danger; but I -know it will not be less pleasant to you on that account." - -"Thank you, my good lord," replied Ferdinand; "but let me know my -errand fully. If the Baron seeks to delay his reply, how am to act? It -is now one of the clock, ride as hard as I will, I shall not reach his -castle gates till five; and he may say that he will give me an answer -in the morning." - -"Stay not an hour," replied the Count. "I would not have you, or any -of your troop, either break bread or taste wine within his gates, till -the answer is given. If he says Yes, you may refresh yourselves and -the horses. If he says No, return at once, and rest at Anweiler. If he -seeks delay, give him half an hour, and tell him such are our express -commands. Now away, good youth, to make ready. You must all go armed." - -"I will do your will to the best, my lord," answered Ferdinand, and -with a glance to the pale cheek of Adelaide, he was turning to leave -the hall, when Count Frederick called him back, and drawing him to the -window, said, in a low voice, "I would fain have you, my dear lad, -discover, if possible, how this worthy knight obtained intelligence of -the merchants' journey. I must leave the means to yourself; but I have -my reasons for the inquiry--I fear this may be a dangerous expedition -for you," he added. - -"More full of danger than honour, my good lord," answered Ferdinand. -"Small chance of fair fighting: much of being caught like a rat in a -trap. But I will do my best, and have nought but to obey." - -Thus saying, he left the hall, not daring to turn his eyes to Adelaide -again; and the party he left soon broke up, Count Frederick saying he -had a vow to perform at the chapel of the Virgin, and that he would -ride out to fulfil it between that hour and supper time. - -Choosing his men from those on whom he could best depend, Ferdinand -descended for a moment to the court, gave orders for the horses to be -saddled, and all prepared without a moment's delay, and then mounted -to his own chamber to arm himself in haste. He had nearly done, and -heard gay voices speaking on the battlements far below, when someone -knocked gently at his door. - -"Come in," cried the young man; and Bertha appeared, with a face half -frightened, half playful. - -"Your lady wishes to speak with you for a moment before you go, Sir -Scapegrace," said the girl in a low tone. "She is in the corridor -below, and all the rest are out of the way for a minute or two, so -make haste;" and without more words she hastened away, leaving the -door ajar. - -Ferdinand lost no time; but, as ever is the case when one attempts to -abridge a necessary process, one thing went wrong, and then another, -so that he was longer than he would have been had he been less in -haste. At length, however, all was complete; and hurrying down, he -found Adelaide waiting anxiously near the door of her own apartments, -with Bertha at a little distance towards the top of the great stairs. -As soon as she saw him, the lovely girl sprang towards him. - -"Oh, Ferdinand," she said, "I have longed to speak with you all the -morning; but the castle has been so full, that it would have been -madness to attempt it; and now you are going whence you may, -perchance, never return. At all events, you cannot be back in time to -do what is required." - -"Fear not for me, dear one," answered Ferdinand, "neither imagine that -I will linger for a moment by the way, if Adelaide has aught to -command me." - -"Nay, it is not I who command," replied his beautiful companion with a -faint blush, "it is Father George who requires that you and I together -shall be at the chapel to-night, some time between midnight and dawn." - -"Indeed!" said Ferdinand, "does he explain for what object?" - -"No. Three or four words written in a billet, closely sealed, were all -the intimation I have had," answered Adelaide. - -"And would you go if it were possible, dear girl?" inquired her lover. - -"I will do whatever he directs," replied the lady. - -"Then, if there be a means of any kind, I will be back;" said -Ferdinand. "Do not retire to rest till all hope of my coming is over -for the night; but, as perchance, I might be detained, it were better -to send down Bertha to the good priest to let him know, that if not -there to-night, we will come to-morrow night without fail, if I be -alive and free." - -As he spoke, Bertha raised her hand suddenly as a warning, and -Adelaide was drawing back to her own apartments; but Ferdinand -detained her, saying, "Do not seem alarmed--'tis our own hearts make -us fear. I may well bid you adieu as I should any other lady;" and -bending his head over her hand, he kissed it, saying aloud, "Farewell, -lady--God shield you ever!" - -"Farewell, Ferdinand," said Adelaide, in a tone that somewhat wavered; -and, at the same moment, Bertha drew nearer, and Martin of Dillberg -entered the corridor from the great stairs. His eyes were turned -instantly towards the two lovers, and although Bertha was by this time -close to them with waitingmaid-like propriety, yet the youth's lip -curled with a smile, of not the most benevolent aspect. - -"Farewell, pretty Bertha," said Ferdinand, as soon as he saw Count -Frederick's follower; and then, passing him with very slight -salutation, he hurried away, while Adelaide retired at once to her own -chamber. The men and horses were not yet prepared; and as Ferdinand -was standing armed in the court waiting for their appearance, the -Count, with his guest, the priest, and the jester, passed by. The -Count's eye rested on him, but he did not address him; and as the -party walked on, the young man heard the Lord of Ehrenstein reply to -some question of Count Frederick's: "Yes, he is always prompt and -ready--brave as a lion, too, fearing nothing, living or dead; but -there has come over him to-day a sort of dull gloom which I do not -understand." - -Ferdinand heard no more; and in five minutes after he was in the -saddle, and at the head of his troop, wending onward on his -expedition. Crossing the valley, he followed the course of the -opposite hills, as if he were journeying to Dürkheim, till he had -passed the Abbey about two miles, where a small village, commanding a -beautiful view of the basin of the Rhine, presented itself; and -turning through it to the right, he was pursuing his way, when a loud -voice from a blacksmith's forge called him by name; and he checked his -horse for a moment. - -"Whither away, Sir? whither away?" asked Franz Creussen, coming forth -with his enormous arms bare to the shoulders. - -"To Eppenfeld," answered Ferdinand, "the Baron has waylaid some -merchants bringing gold to the Count; and I am sent to ask him to give -it up,--I cannot stay to tell you more, Franz, but doubt I may stay -longer where I am going, and perchance need arms as strong as yours to -get me out." - -"Likely enough," replied the giant; "when come you back, if they will -let you?" - -"As fast as my horse can carry me," answered the young man, and -galloped on, along one of the narrow hill paths that led towards -Anweiler, with an unrivalled view of the whole Palatinate below him on -the left, and, on the right, the mountains of the Haard, with their -innumerable castles, abbeys, and monasteries, crowning every peak, and -barring every gorge. When he reached the road from Landau to -Zweibrücken, near Anweiler, instead of following it far, he turned -away again before he had gone on a quarter of a mile, in the direction -of Weissenburg, and entered a dark and gloomy looking valley, where -rocks and trees were far more plentiful than churches or human -habitations. Closing in on either side, the high hills left but a -narrow space for the dell as it wound on, till at length, at a spot -where the basin extended a little, a tall rock rose up in the centre, -covered with wood wherever the roots could find earth to bear them, -and crowned with walls and towers above. Ferdinand gave his horse the -spur, and in a few minutes more stood before the gates of Eppenfeld. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - - -Before the small chapel in the wood, below the castle of Ehrenstein, -there was, as I have said, an open space of about half an acre. The -trees encroached upon it here and there, rendering the boundary-line -broken and irregular, detracting nought from the sylvan beauty of the -scene. On the contrary, the variety was pleasant to the eye; and the -old oaks and beeches, which, starting out before their fellows, -obtruded on the soft dry turf, rendered the sight more agreeable by -depriving it of all formality. It looked like a space for fairy -revels; and in truth, though the fathers, if they had seen any of the -little good people present, might have sent them roughly to some other -quarters, took no slight pleasure, as was commonly the case with the -monks, in the charms of the spot where they had fixed one of their -buildings, and would rather have forfeited a great deal than have cut -down one of the trees which formed the great ornament of the place. -The varied colours of the spring, the summer, and the autumn, afforded -much delight to the good old men. The sunshine, streaming through the -green leaves, was like the return of the summer of life to the winter -of their age; and it was the boast of the Lord Abbot--though he was -not otherwise than fond of venison--that neither stag, nor roe, nor -fallow-deer, had ever been slaughtered in those woods by his command. -Thus the wild creatures of the forest, who have more sense than we -give them credit for, looked upon the wood, within two or three -hundred yards of the chapel, as a place of refuge, a sort of -sanctuary; and the open space between the trees and the building as a -play-ground for their evening hours. The beams of the full day, -however, were pouring over the blades of grass, and tinging with -bright yellow the beech leaves above, when Count Frederick of -Leiningen, with a small party behind him, drew in his rein at the -chapel door. A groom sprang to his stirrup, and, dismounting more -lightly than from his age one would have judged possible, he entered -the chapel and bent his knee for some moments before the altar, in -prayer; then rising, he advanced towards the door of the little wing -inhabited by Father George, and, after knocking at it with his -knuckles, opened it and entered, beckoning the jester to follow. The -good priest was seated at a table reading, but he rose, when, by air -and manner, more than even by dress, he perceived the high rank of his -visitor. For a moment or two neither of the three spoke, and the eye -of the monk ran from the face of Count Frederick to that of the -jester, resting upon the latter long and steadfastly, with a sort of -inquiring look, as if he recognised features which he had seen in -times of old, and yet had some difficulty in assuring himself that -they were the same which he had beheld before the scorching blast of -time had passed over them. - -Count Frederick was the first who spoke, saying, "You do not remember -me, good father, though we have met often in early days, and more than -once some ten years ago; but I can easily forgive your forgetfulness, -for, good faith, the suns of Syria and Africa are not the greatest -beautifiers of man's person, and the change must be somewhat rueful. -You are little altered, since last I saw you; more silver than sable -in your hair now, it is true, but still the features are the same." - -"I remember you well, my good lord," replied the priest; "though you -are greatly changed, I own. Yet here is one I should remember better, -methinks; for, if my eyes deceive me not strangely, we have met more -often;" and as he spoke he laid his hand upon the jester's arm. - -"I know not which is the greatest deceiver," cried the jester, with a -laugh; "a man's eyes or his ears; the one cheats him more often, the -other more deeply; but, by my faith! I know not why my lord called me -here. If you be old friends you will have old tales to tell, and I -never yet could listen patiently to an ancient story, or to the wit -and mirth of sixty years and upwards. My own jests are sufficient for -me, so, I pray you, jolly priest, don't flout me." - -Father George bent down his eyes thoughtfully on the ground, and then -shook his head somewhat mournfully, but looking up suddenly at length, -he said, addressing Count Frederick, "Well, my good lord, I am glad at -all events to see you safe returned. Have you any commands for me?" - -"None, good father, none," replied Count Frederick. "I come but to ask -a question or two.--I have found at the castle a youth named Ferdinand -of Altenburg, who is he?" - -"Methinks, noble lord," replied Father George; "that the name is -enough to show you that he is of a noble race and kin; not so rich as -he might be, perhaps, but still with the hope of rising in the world. -He was my ward, and is now in the train of the Count of Ehrenstein, -serving him well I trust, for he was always well disposed and -honourable." - -"So is a cat," replied the jester, "rather thievishly disposed towards -mice, but still an honourable beast, as the world goes, with a mighty -soft tread, and a sleek skin well smoothed." - -"But he is thievishly disposed to no one," answered Father George. - -"By my faith! that is saying much for any man under ninety," rejoined -the jester; "for there are many kinds of thievishness, which assault -us at different stages of this world's journey; and I have seldom met -with the male thing of twenty, or thereabouts, that would not steal a -smile from beauty, or a heart if he could get it, in a very roguish -manner." - -"That is lawful robbery," said the priest, with a smile, "against -which there is no commandment." - -"Ay, if the church have its dues," cried the jester, "then things are -easily managed; but Heaven help me! I blame not the youth, nor call -him a cat either; I but said that Grimalkin is as honest as he." - -"But not so bold, so brave, and so true," answered Father George, -"else he belies his teaching." - -"He seems brave enough, in truth," answered Count Frederick, "for he -is even now gone to put his head into a lion's mouth." - -"Ah! how is that?" exclaimed Father George, in evident surprise and -alarm; "I knew not that he was going anywhere." - -"He has gone to beard the Baron of Eppenfeld in his hold," answered -the Count; "you can judge better, my good friend, what reception he is -likely to meet with than I can." - -"Comfortable lodging and good food," replied the jester, "if nothing -worse; but clean straw, and bread and water may serve a man's turn -very well, if it be not on compulsion. Compulsion is the salad of -bitter herbs, that makes all a man's meat have a hard flavour." - -"And when does he propose to come back?" asked the monk, without -noting Herr von Narren's words. - -"As soon as he can ride thither and return," said Count Frederick in -reply; "he may be back by nine, I should think." - -"He must have help in case of need," replied Father George, -thoughtfully. - -"That he shall have beyond all doubt," answered the nobleman; "depend -upon it, no wrong shall befall him without vengeance from my hand." - -"Ay, that is the way with all these great lords," exclaimed the -jester; "vengeance is a part of their creed. Now a fool or a serf -would think it better to stop evil deeds than to punish them: if I -were to kill your horse, uncle, the beast would not be a bit better -off for knowing that my head would pay the penalty. I say, let those -who can, stop the doing of that which is amiss, and then there will be -no occasion for avenging it afterwards." - -He spoke with a good deal of emphasis, and then turned round to the -lattice-window and looked out, while the priest and his noble visitor -conversed for some few minutes apart. - -From time to time the eye of Count Frederick's strange companion -wandered from the space immediately opposite the chapel, and from the -group of attendants and men-at-arms it contained, up towards the -castle, with a marking and significant glance. Whether by accident or -design, I know not, but the chapel had been so built, that the window -of that room, although it could not command the whole extent of the -road, caught glimpses of it, even after the trees crossed it, at every -fifty or sixty yards along the whole extent, and after gazing forth -for two or three minutes, something seemed to catch and arrest the -man's attention; for he suddenly smiled, laid his finger on his -temple, and then, after having watched for a moment or two more, -turned quickly round, exclaiming, "Give you good day," uncle -Frederick; "I am away for a pot of honey, I see there;" and out of the -door he strode without awaiting an answer. Hurrying up the hill, -without mounting his horse, he had just passed the first turning in -the wood, when he suddenly came upon the pretty maid Bertha, tripping -down with a rapid step, and a cheek somewhat flushed. - -"A fair afternoon to you, sweet lady," said the jester, taking her -hand; "whither away so fast?" - -"I am going to tell my beads at the chapel," said Bertha, evidently -discomposed. - -"A pious undertaking," cried the jester, "and easily performed, too, -if there were none but pigeons in this world; but doves will meet with -hawks, pretty mistress, when they fly out alone; and if I mistake not, -something has ruffled your feathers." - -Bertha laughed, blushing, and replied: "You saw him, then, Sir?" - -"I saw some one lay hold of you roughly," answered the jester; "but, -in truth, my eyes are somewhat dim; for the passing of years will -scratch the horn lantern, and though I came out to help you in case of -need, I could not distinguish who it was." - -"One of your good lord's followers," answered Bertha; "but it is no -matter, I trust he will be less saucy henceforth, for I threatened to -tell of him." - -"If you threatened to tell and don't tell, pretty maid, be you sure -that he will read the riddle to his own advantage. Otherwise, he will -be as great a fool as I am, and I will leave him my cap and bauble for -a legacy." - -Just as the jester was uttering these words, the youth Martin of -Dillberg appeared coming down with a stealthy step; and Bertha's -companion exclaimed, "Ha! ha! Here we have him, and no tale told. For -this he shall be punished enough." - -"Nay, I beseech you," cried Bertha, "do him no harm! He is a saucy -boy; but he will not offend again." - -"He has offended often enough already," answered the jester, "but fear -not, pretty maid; I will not deal roughly. I will but set the dwarf -upon him, and for the next three days he will lead the life of a -strange fowl in a farm-yard--but see! as soon as his eye lights upon -me, he creeps away amongst the trees. That youth will fall upon some -evil thing before he is done. Now hie thee on to the chapel, and tell -thy beads in peace; though, Heaven help us! if all the love tales were -counted that lie under a rosary, they would drown the paters and aves, -I fear." - -"I am going to tell no love tale," answered Bertha, colouring and -walking on. "I wish I had a love tale to tell." - -The jester laughed, and followed towards the chapel, saying, "It must -be a luckless place this castle of Ehrenstein, not to furnish a pretty -maiden with such a bosom-friend. Perhaps your sweet mistress cannot -say the same." - -"I never pry into my mistress's affairs," cried Bertha, "I know -nothing of them." - -But the jester's keen eye was upon her as she spoke, and he exclaimed -with a provoking smile, "Ha! ha! thy warm cheek is as red as thy warm -lip, fair maid; and, on my troth, I can forgive Martin of Dillberg for -tasting both. Why, you tell-tale, if you guard your face no better, it -is useless putting a bridle on your tongue." - -"It is because you tease me," answered Bertha, petulantly; "I declare, -Martin of Dillberg was better than you are, so I shall hurry on, and -do without your company." - -The jester followed, but not very rapidly; and when Bertha saw the -horsemen standing at the chapel gate, she paused, and seemed to -hesitate; but then taking heart of grace, she hastened forward again, -and, without looking to the right or left, approached the shrine. - -Her orisons were somewhat long, for the Count, and the jester, who had -again entered the good priest's cell, remained there for half an hour, -and when they came forth and rode on towards the Abbey, Bertha was -still at prayer. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - - -We are all well aware that there are certain of man's infirmities -which may be turned to serve his own purposes when the exercise of his -faculties might be dangerous or inconvenient. It may sometimes be -pleasant to have no eyes, sometimes to have no ears; and we have known -instances where it was believed judicious in certain parties to have -no legs, till they were found for them by other parties interested in -the progress of the recusants. Now the lords of Eppenfeld occasionally -judged it expedient to be extremely hard of hearing; and in order to -favour this infirmity as far as possible, no bell was attached to -their gates, though these tinkling instruments had long before been -introduced into common use, as the means of summoning porters or -warders to answer the inquiries of the stranger, or to open the doors -to the visitor. It would seem that they were fond of the usages of -antiquity, for the only means provided for making one's self heard -before their castle, was the long disused one of a large horn, -suspended under the arch of an outwork in advance of the drawbridge, -the sound of which might be heard or not by those within, as they -liked. - -The Baron of Eppenfeld was seated at table on the evening of the day -of which we have just been speaking, though the hour of dinner was -long past, and that of supper not yet arrived. Human nature, however, -is the same in all ages. We may smooth, and shape, and polish, and -gild the stone, but the material remains unchanged, and the same -propensities and habits become apparent whenever circumstances call -them into action. Lightly won, and lightly spent, was as true a maxim -in those days as in our own; and the predatory noble, or robber -knight, was as sure to wind up any successful expedition with revelry -and drunkenness, as the wrecker, the smuggler, or the footpad of -modern times. The Baron of Eppenfeld had made a glorious sweep of the -goods of the Venetian merchants; he had obtained more gold by an -enterprise of little difficulty or danger, than, had ever warmed -his coffers before; and, consequently, the choice vintages of his -cellars--though I cannot say they were the produce of his own -vineyards--were doomed to flow for himself and his soldiery, in honour -of the happy event. He was revelling then with the wine cup in his -hand, when the sound of the horn before the gates made itself heard in -the hall. He and his companions had drunk for many an hour, and the -eyes of several of the worthy gentlemen present were growing somewhat -glassy and unmeaning. The Baron's own head, however, seemed made of -the same cast-iron materials as his frame, and the quantity was -infinite which he could absorb without any apparent effect. - -"Ha!" he cried, as soon as the sound met his ear; "go and look through -the loophole, Stephen, and see who that is blowing the horn." - -The man to whom he spoke, rose, and carried his flushed countenance -and watery eyes to a loophole in the neighbouring tower, and after an -absence of about two minutes, returned to say, in not very distinct -tones,--"It is a youth, on horseback." - -"That young villain!--come for his share, I dare say," said the Baron. -"Well, we'll give him his share, and take it from him afterwards. He -has helped us to skin his lord, and so it is all fair for us to skin -him." - -A peal of laughter from his followers succeeded to this remarkably -just and honourable observation of the Baron of Eppenfeld, in the -midst of which the man Stephen grumbled forth, two or three times -before he could make himself heard--"This is not he, my lord. This -fellow's taller by a hand's breadth, and he has got a number of -knechts after him; so you had better look to yourself. I could not -count them, for they wavered about before my eyes as if they were -dancing." - -"That was because you are drunk, swine!" replied the Baron. -"Knechts!--what brings he knechts here for? Go you out, Fritz, and -look at them through the grate, and see how many there are, and what -they seek, if you can divine by any token, without speaking to them. -Don't let yourself be seen before you come and tell me. Heaven send it -may be a party of rich pilgrims come to seek shelter at Eppenfeld! We -will treat them hospitably, and send them lightly on their way." - -"If they're pilgrims, they're pilgrims in steel coats," answered -Stephen; while the man whom his lord called Fritz, hurried off to take -a better survey. - -These tidings did not seem to please his lord, for the Baron's brow -knit, and after looking two or three times towards the door of the -hall, he was in the act of rising to go out, when his second messenger -returned, saying with a laugh, "It's Ferdinand of Altenburg, whom you -have seen with the Count of Ehrenstein; and with him he's got ten men -of the castle." - -"Are you sure of the youth?" demanded the Baron. "We must have no -mistakes, though we can manage ten men well enough; ay, or forty, if -they send them." - -"Oh, I am quite sure," answered Fritz; "for he has got his beaver up, -and I can see his face as well as I can see yours." - -"What can the Count want?" murmured Eppenfeld to himself. "Well, we -are good friends enough, and he is not very particular as to what -he does himself, so let them in, and bring the youth straight -hither.--Take away these cups and tankards, and make the place look -orderly. Then let every drunken man hie to his own sty, for if the -good Count wants help with the strong hand, we may perchance have to -mount before nightfall." - -With a good deal of scrambling and confusion, the board was cleared, -and laid edgeways at the side of the hall, the tressels, the cups, the -flagons, and all the other implements which they had employed in the -revel were hastily removed, and after the horn at the gates had been -sounded loudly once or twice, Fritz, and two or three of the more -sober of the soldiery, went out to give admission to the followers of -the lord of Ehrenstein. - -In the mean while the Baron walked up and down the hall, considering -gravely the question of what the Count of Ehrenstein could want with -him--for those were days when men were so much accustomed to plunder -and wrong each other, that suspicion mingled with almost every -transaction of life, and neither rogues nor honest men ever trusted -each other without a doubt. Before his cogitations came to an end, -Ferdinand--having left the horses, and several of his followers to -take care of them, in the outer court--was ushered into the hall, with -five stout men at his back; and advanced at once towards the Baron, -through the different groups of somewhat wild and fierce looking -retainers, who formed the favourite household of the good lord of -Eppenfeld. - -"Well, good youth, what do you want with me?" asked the Baron. "If I -am not much mistaken, you are young Ferdinand of Altenburg, who was -page some years since to my fair cousin the Count of Ehrenstein.--Whom -do you follow now?" - -"The same, my lord," replied Ferdinand, "and the Count has sent me to -you with his friendly greeting; bidding me say, that he learns from -the complaint of certain Venetian merchants, that some of your people, -not knowing that they were journeying to the Castle of Ehrenstein, or -that the treasure they carried was his, have stopped and plundered -them on the highway from Zweibrücken. He bids me now tell you, -however, that such is the case, and requires not only that the whole -shall be instantly restored, but that compensation shall be made for -the injury which your people have inflicted upon these merchants and -their followers." - -Here the Baron of Eppenfeld interrupted him by a loud laugh, "On my -life," he cried, "thou art a bold youth to bring me such a message!" - -"That message is not yet done, my lord," answered Ferdinand, coolly. -"The Count bade me add, that the compensation to the merchants is to -be awarded by himself and Count Frederick of Leiningen, now sojourning -with him at Ehrenstein, and commanded me to require an answer at your -hands without delay, that he may take measures accordingly." - -The Baron gazed at him, as if in surprise at his audacity; but yet at -the mention of the name of Count Frederick of Leiningen as a guest in -the Castle of Ehrenstein, a shade of doubt seemed to come over his -face; and when the youth had done, he turned abruptly from him, and -paced up and down the hall for a minute. Then, stopping again as -suddenly, he replied, "If I say bluntly, No, what have you to answer -then?" - -"My task then would be," answered Ferdinand, "to defy you in the name -of my good lord and of Count Frederick, and to tell you that they will -be before your gates in arms ere four-and-twenty hours are over." - -The Baron bit his lip. "Tell them that Eppenfeld is high," he -answered; "tell them that its lord wears a sword that has made braver -men than they are skip--tell them--yet stay, I will consider this, and -consult with my people. You shall lodge here to-night and sup with me, -and perhaps ere to-morrow I shall consider my old friendship with your -lord rather than my anger at his rash message." - -"I fear that cannot be, my lord," answered Ferdinand; "I am neither to -eat, to drink, to sleep, or spare the spur for more than half an hour, -till I bear back your answer." - -"By my faith! then, no other shall you have," cried the Baron, -vehemently; "and if you seek more, you shall have it in a dungeon of -the castle.--Ay, tell the Count what I have said; and you may add that -he had better mind his own affairs, and meddle not with my booty, or -he may find that I will not only have revenge in arms, but other -retribution which will fall heavier still: tell him I know things -which, though he thinks they have been buried deep for well nigh -twenty years, may yet pull him down from where he stands, and give him -to the emperor's headsman. So much for the Count of Ehrenstein." - -"And what for Count Frederick of Leiningen," asked Ferdinand, not at -all daunted by the fierce looks and tones of the Baron. "I was equally -charged by him to defy you." - -"Good faith! your impudence well nigh makes me laugh," exclaimed the -Baron. "What for Count Frederick of Leiningen? Why, tell His Highness -that I thank him gratefully for the good prize he put into my hands, -and that he shall have the share stipulated by his lad, Martin of -Dillberg. You may say, moreover, that I was very cautious," the Baron -continued, with a bitter sneer, "and attended to all the warnings -given me. I never meddled with the men till they were on my own land, -without a pass from me. If they will do such things, they must bear -the consequences. I have taken my toll of them, and I shall keep it, -if all the counts in the empire said me Nay. So now begone, and -remember that you tell both my loving cousins in each other's -presence, what I have said in answer to their messages." - -Ferdinand of Altenburg made no reply, but took a step back towards the -door, very doubtful, to say the truth, whether he would be permitted -to reach it. He was suffered to pass uninterrupted, however; but the -moment he had quitted the hall, the man Fritz, who acted as the -Baron's lieutenant, sprang to his lord's side, and murmured eagerly -some words of advice. Those who were around did not hear all that he -said, but some broken parts of sentences were audible, such as, "Let -us have four-and-twenty hours at least--never stand a strict leaguer -so badly provided--bring the beeves from the wood; and call in all the -men.--We can do it in a minute--here are only ten with him." - -The Baron nodded his head, and made a sign with his hand; and Fritz, -beckoning to the rest of the men to follow, hurried out into the -court-yard. - -Ferdinand of Altenburg had one foot in the stirrup, when the Baron's -lieutenant approached him; and the rest of the men of Ehrenstein were -scattered about--some mounting their horses, others mounted. The gate -was open and the drawbridge down, and not more than fourteen or -fifteen of the soldiers of Eppenfeld were in the court when Fritz -entered it. Proceeding cautiously, therefore, he touched Ferdinand's -arm lightly, saying, "My good lord would fain speak with you for a -moment farther, young Sir." - -"I must not stay any longer," answered Ferdinand, and was in the act -of springing into the saddle, when Fritz, seeing a number of others -following from the hall, threw himself suddenly upon him, and -endeavoured to pinion his arms. Ferdinand was younger and more active, -though perhaps not so strong; and with a blow of his gauntlet struck -the man down, freeing himself from his grasp. A scene of struggling -confusion succeeded, in the course of which the young man and all his -followers but two were overpowered by the superior numbers of their -opponents, and carried back as captives into the castle. The other two -were men who had already mounted, and who, at the first sign of this -unequal strife pushed their horses towards the gates, dashed over the -drawbridge, and took their way at full speed down the valley. - -In the mean time, Ferdinand of Altenburg was dragged back into the -castle, but instead of being taken to the hall, was hurried along the -passages, and down a narrow flight of steps, to a small room or cell, -which perhaps did not exactly deserve the name of a dungeon, for it -was actually above the ground, but which was dim, damp, and -inconvenient enough. In those days, however, the things which we are -accustomed to look upon as absolute necessaries, were merely luxuries, -and people of very high station fared hard and lay harder; so that a -pallet bed, a narrow chamber, a little light, and a stone floor, were -hardships not aggravated to the mind of Ferdinand by a contrast with -any great delicacy of nurture. - -He did not remonstrate with those who bore him along, for he was well -aware that by so doing, he would only waste his breath; and indeed he -said nothing, for threats he knew could only aggravate the rigours of -his imprisonment, and he looked upon patience as a sovereign balm for -all such misfortunes as those to which he was now subjected. Neither -did he resist at all, from the moment it became evident that -resistance would be in vain; and thus, though he was dragged along at -first with some degree of violence, the men who held him soon -slackened their speed, and relaxed their grasp. When they had pushed -him into the cell, they stood leaning against the lintels of the door, -gazing at him for a moment before they shut it; and the man Fritz, -whose right cheek and eye displayed very remarkable evidence of the -strength with which Ferdinand had struck him, seemed now not a little -surprised at the calmness and good-humour with which the young -gentleman bore his fate. - -"Well you take it vastly quietly, Master Ferdinand of Altenburg," said -the man; "you seem as if you rather liked it than otherwise." - -"Oh, no," answered Ferdinand, laughing; "I don't like it; but, as I -expected it from the very first, I am not taken by surprise. There -would be no benefit either, my good friend, in my struggling with you -after struggling is useless, or in railing at you when railing would -have no effect, and, therefore, all I have to say on the subject is, -that there can be little good in keeping me here, since some of the -men have got off, for I saw them with my own eyes. They will carry the -news just as well as I could, and before this time to-morrow you will -have the two Counts under Eppenfeld." - -"That's all very good," answered Fritz; "but I shall keep you here, -notwithstanding." - -"I hope not on account of the blow I gave you," said Ferdinand; "no -good soldier ever resents a fair blow received in strife." - -"No, no," replied the other; "if you knocked me down, I tripped you -up, so that's all equal; but I have two good reasons for keeping -you:--first, my good lord having more wine than wit in his head, I am -thinking, sent messages to the two Counts which could do no good, and -might do much harm; and secondly, you'll be a sort of hostage, young -man. I know the Count loves you well, and would not like to see you -dangling from the battlements, like a pear from the end of a branch." - -"He would not much care, I fancy," answered Ferdinand, indifferently. -"But in the mean time, I should like to have some supper, for if a man -is to be hanged to-morrow, that is no reason why he should not eat and -drink to-day." - -"Well, supper you shall have, and good wine to boot," answered Fritz. -"You seem to bear a light heart, and ought not to want wherewithal to -keep it up.--It is lucky that hanging is soon over, and can't happen -twice, so good night and God speed ye!" - -With this peculiar topic of consolation the man left him to comfort -himself as best he might, and closing the door behind him, swung up a -ponderous wooden bar, and pushed the bolts into the staples. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - - -The day had been bright and cheerful, but towards nightfall the sky -had become obscured by thin, light vapours. Low, sweeping clouds, or -rather masses of drifting mist, were hurried along through the air, -and brushing the hills, and sometimes floating down into the -valleys--like the skirt of the wind's gray robe--now hid the grander -features of the scene, now suffered the crags and pinnacles to peep -out clear and distinct, as on they hastened with all the speed and -importance of great affairs. As the sun set, indeed, a purple glow -diffused itself amongst those vapours, but they did not clear away; -and speedily after a fine rain began to fall, somewhat cold and -chilly, hiding everything around in dull opaque mist. In fact, one of -those frequent alternations to which all mountain countries are more -or less subject, had come over the weather, rendering the evening as -cheerless and dismal as the morning had been bright and gay. - -Nevertheless, two horsemen still rode on their way about half-past -eight o'clock, though their beasts were evidently jaded, and their own -garments and arms were covered with the dust of many a weary mile of -road; but about five or six miles beyond the small town of Anweiler, -one of the horses cast a shoe, and the beast speedily began to show -symptoms of lameness. The rider was consequently obliged to dismount, -and lead his weary steed; and the other drew in his bridle, in order -not to outride his companion--for the state of society, of which we -have given some glimpses, rendered the presence of a companion on the -road a very desirable circumstance to the wayfarer. - -"We can't be far from the smith's forge," said the dismounted man to -his friend. "I will stop and get him shod there." - -"Will he shoe him?" asked the other. "He is no friend of our good -lord, and has not shod a hoof for him for years." - -"Oh, Franz Creussen is a good heart," answered the man on foot. "He -would shoe the devil sooner than a poor beast should go lame. Besides, -he will like to hear our tidings, though they will vex him mightily; -for the young gentleman is a great friend of his. By the Lord! I -should not wonder if that mad Baron of Eppenfeld put him to -death--there's no knowing what he will do." - -"No, no," answered the other; "he knows better. The Count would make -him pay dearly for it." - -"I'm not sure of that," replied the man on foot. "I've seen him give -Ferdinand of Altenburg many a moody look at times; and I've a notion -in my head--but no matter for that, I shall keep it to myself. I think -some people in the castle love the young gentleman better than our -lord likes." - -"Not unlikely," said the man on horseback. "I've my thoughts too, but -the less said the better." - -The conversation now dropped between the two weary men, and for about -half an hour or so they continued to plod on their way in silence, -till at length a red glare, suddenly rising and falling through the -dark and misty air, showed them that they were approaching the forge -of Franz Creussen, and that the industrious smith, or some of his busy -men, were still pursuing the labours of the day. The wide open shed, -when they came near, displayed ten or twelve Cyclops, naked nearly to -the waist, plying the busy hammer at different anvils, blowing the -huge bellows, or heating the iron in the fire. But Franz Creussen -himself was not amongst them; and while one of the travellers applied -to have his horse shod as speedily as possible, the other inquired for -the master of the forge, and was informed that he had gone into his -cottage hard by, to take his evening meal. Fastening his horse by a -hook, the horseman proceeded to seek Franz in his house; and as the -smith was a wealthy man in his way of life, offering very cogent -reasons for refusing to submit to many of the exactions which the -neighbouring nobles generally laid upon the peasantry, his dwelling -presented an appearance of comfort, and even luxury, seldom met with -amongst persons in his station. - -"Who the fiend are you?" exclaimed the giant, as soon as the soldier -entered. "I have seen your face somewhere, but do not know your name. -Ah! now I bethink me; you are one of those who were riding with the -lad Ferdinand this morning, are you not? Where is he?--but I can -guess." - -"He's in a dungeon at Eppenfeld by this time," answered the man. "I -and my companion are the only two that got off; so, as I know you have -a friendship for him, Franz, I thought I would come in and tell you, -while my comrade got his horse's shoe put on." - -"That was kind, that was kind," cried Franz Creussen, rubbing one of -his temples with a forefinger as big as a child's arm. "There, take -some wine; the boy must be got out." - -"Oh, the Count will get him out," answered the soldier; adding, -"that's to say, if they don't put him to death first." - -"If they do, let them have good heed to their brains," said Franz -Creussen; "for the Baron of Eppenfeld's skull would make a poor anvil, -and yet it shall be tapped by my hammer, if he has injured the lad in -life or limb. It's time that the Baron were out of the world, as well -as some others;" and Franz Creussen fell into thought, and rubbed his -temple again. - -The man, in the mean while, helped himself liberally to the wine which -the smith offered, and in a minute or two after, the master of the -forge raised himself suddenly, saying, "The horse must be shod by this -time, and you must onto Ehrenstein with all speed, to bear these -tidings to the lords there, for they must not let the youth lie long -in Eppenfeld." - -"Oh, the Count will see right done, and that quickly," answered his -companion. - -"If the one Count doesn't, the other will," replied Franz Creussen; -"but you speed on, and let them have the intelligence at all events;" -and striding into his forge, he reproved his men somewhat sharply for -having taken so long to put a shoe on a horse; and having seen the -work accomplished, and bid the two soldiers adieu, he turned to his -own workmen, saying, "Shut up, shut up, and put out the fires. I have -other work in hand for us all." - -In the mean while the two soldiers of Ehrenstein rode on their way -homeward, forcing their horses to as quick a pace as fatigue would -permit. When they reached the castle the hour was late, but the Count -was still playing at tables with his guest, and they were instantly -admitted to his presence. They found both the noblemen in a gay mood, -laughing over their game; while Adelaide sat at a little distance on -one side, with Martin of Dillberg standing by her chair, and the -jester, seated on a stool, amusing her by his quaint remarks. - -"Well, what tidings, what tidings?" exclaimed the Count of Ehrenstein. -"Where is Ferdinand? Is he not come back?" - -The man's answer, on the present occasion, was much the same as that -which he had made to Franz Creussen; and when it was uttered, the -Count of Ehrenstein struck the table vehemently, exclaiming, "This is -too bad. By Heaven it shall be avenged!" - -Count Frederick's eye glanced suddenly to the countenance of the fair -girl who sat near, which had become deadly pale; and then, turning to -the soldier, he inquired, "Did you hear the young gentleman deliver -his message?" - -"No, my good lord," replied the man who had before spoken, "I was left -with the horses, but Herman here did." - -"What said the Baron?" asked Count Frederick, turning to the other, -who was now coming forward. "Tell us all that took place." - -Herman, however, was a slower and more cautious man than his -companion, and he was by no means inclined to repeat expressions which -he had heard distinctly enough, but which he feared might give offence -to the two noblemen before whom he stood, judging rightly, that a part -of the anger excited by insulting messages always attaches to the -person who bears them. He replied, therefore, circumspectly, "The -Baron seemed to be in a great fury, noble Sir; and indeed, I thought -had been drinking too much. I can't recollect all that he said, but I -know he sent Ferdinand of Altenburg back with a flat refusal. Then the -young gentleman defied him boldly in both your names, and warned him -that you would be under his hold before four-and-twenty hours were -over. That seemed to enrage him still more, and thinking we might not -get off quite safely, I mounted my horse as soon as we were in the -court. Master Ferdinand had his foot in the stirrup to do so likewise, -when they came running out of the hall, and laid hold of him. He -struck the first man down, but there were so many that it was -impossible to contend with them; and seeing the greater number of our -people taken, and our leader held down by three men with their knives -at his throat, I thought it best to gallop off while the drawbridge -was down, that you might know what had happened as soon as possible." - -Count Frederick looked again towards Adelaide, and then to her father, -saying, "This must be avenged, indeed, Ehrenstein. Both for our -honour's sake, and for this noble youth's deliverance, we must take -speedy steps." - -"I will march at daybreak," answered the Count of Ehrenstein; "and -with your good aid, doubt not to bring this freebooter to reason very -speedily." - -"By my faith! I will march to-night," cried Count Frederick. -"Daybreak, I trust, will find me beneath his walls. Frederick -of Leiningen sleeps not after he is insulted, till he has had -vengeance. If it will take you long time to prepare, you can follow -to-morrow;--for my part, I will give this man no time to strengthen -himself against us. Martin, hie ye down, and bid the men feed their -horses, make ready their arms, and take with them sufficient for a -three days' stay in the field. I will not lodge under aught but the -blue sky or the green bough, till I have righted this wrong." - -"I will with you, noble friend," said the Count of Ehrenstein. "In two -or three hours I can be ready. Ho! Seckendorf, Mosbach! to the saddle, -good knights, leave your draughts and prepare for Eppenfeld." - -"You must leave men enough to guard your castle, Ehrenstein," said -Count Frederick, "and some one to command in it." - -"I will command, uncle," said the jester, coming forward, "that's my -place by right of birth." - -Count Frederick smiled, but paused a moment, and then asked "How do -you prove that, Herr von Narren?" - -"Why, I am the eldest son of the family," answered the jester, "the -eldest branch of the whole house." - -"Indeed," cried the Lord of Ehrenstein, "show us your quarterings, -mein Herr, with which of my ancestors does your tribe begin?" - -"With Adam," answered the jester. - -"But the eldest branch, the eldest branch--how are you of the eldest -branch?" asked Count Frederick, "by the father's or the mother's -side?" - -"By the male," said the jester. "Was not Adam a fool when he ate the -apple, because his wife asked him? Was not Cain a fool when he killed -Abel, and thought that nobody saw him? So you see we of the cloth are -evidently of the elder branch, and take the inheritance, and therefore -I've a right to command in the castle." - -"Nay, nay, Herr von Narren," said the Lord of Ehrenstein. "I must -leave one of my own men to command under you." - -"Cannot I fill that task, noble Count?" asked Martin of Dillberg, who -had just returned to the hall. "If I remain behind, I shall be right -glad to be of any service." - -"If you remain behind!" exclaimed Count Frederick; "why should you do -so, Martin? You are not one to shirk honour, or to fly from danger, I -hope--why should you not go with the rest?" - -"I do not know, my lord," replied the young man, with a heavy look; -"only when my horse fell with me near Saarbrück, you said I was not to -take the field again for some time, and left me behind to follow -slowly." - -"But you were well enough to overtake us ere we reached Ehrenstein," -rejoined his lord. - -"I am quite ready, noble Sir," answered Martin of Dillberg, in -dull tone, "and only feared you might not let me go, remembering that -you halted two days on the road, so that I had time to journey -leisurely--but I am quite well enough to go, and Heaven knows I do not -wish to stay away when anything like glory is to be gained." - -Count Frederick made no answer at the time, but seemed to muse over -what had passed. Shortly after the whole party separated to prepare, -and by two in the morning all the followers of the two Counts, except -a small band left to guard the castle, were assembled in the court. -The jester himself was ready, harnessed like a man at arms; but at the -last moment, Count Frederick turned to Martin of Dillberg, and told -him he was to remain. The young man affected to remonstrate, but the -Count repeated his commands in a grave and not very well pleased tone; -and then turning to the jester with a laugh, he added, "You had better -stay too, Herr von Narren, though I know in general you are wise -enough to go where hard blows are to be got rather than stay within -stone walls." - -"Variety, uncle, variety," said the jester. "I have had enough of -stone walls for a time, and do not see why I should not change the -inside for the out. Besides, Martin of Dillberg's company is too great -a luxury to be indulged in often--it would make one effeminate." - -The young man gave him a bitter look as he mounted his horse, and -shortly after, with several lighted torches before them, to show them -their way down the steep descent, the whole party set out upon their -expedition, leaving Martin of Dillberg behind them, and the castle -soon after relapsed into silence and tranquillity. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - - -Ferdinand of Altenburg seated himself upon the edge of the pallet, and -gave way to thought; nor must it be denied that after the first -excitement of action was over, he felt his position to be one of no -inconsiderable pain, difficulty, and danger. Imprisonment, forced -solitude, and the deprivation of active exertion, must ever be a heavy -burden for eager and busy youth to bear, even for an hour; but there -were many other evils, possible, probable, and actual, which the -young gentleman had to contemplate as he sat there and meditated over -his fate. To be deprived of the society of her he loved, for many -hours, perhaps for many days--to leave all the circumstances, by which -his fate and hers might be affected for ever, to be decided by -accident to know that one for whom he felt an instinctive jealousy and -dislike was to be possessed, during his absence, of the blessing of -her society, of the treasure which he valued beyond all price and -would have guarded for himself with a miser's care, were first among -the painful impressions that presented themselves. But then came the -questions of how his imprisonment might terminate; how long it might -continue; what might be the end. Amongst the rude and ruthless acts of -those times there were innumerable instances of such threats as those -which had been held out by the man who had just left him, being -carried into execution. There was something more than a possibility, -there was a probability of his being treated as a hostage to ensure -the forbearance of the Count of Ehrenstein and his guest; and, -moreover, if his situation failed in deterring them from seeking -retribution for the offences of the Baron of Eppenfeld, there was -every likelihood of that daring and rapacious nobleman, adding to -crimes from the consequences of which he could not escape by putting -his prisoner to death. Ferdinand had then to consider, what chance -there existed of the two Counts either refraining, out of regard for -his safety, from active measures against the Baron, or of their -temporising with their enemy till his security was obtained. In regard -to Count Frederick, he had indeed some hope, for there was a frank and -upright bearing about that prince which had impressed him at once with -a belief that he would act in all circumstances in a generous as well -as an honourable manner; but when he thought of the Count of -Ehrenstein he could flatter himself with no hope of any pause or -consideration in his favour, when in the opposite scale was to be -placed the recovery of a large sum of gold. Perhaps he did him -injustice, but he was inclined to believe that the person must be much -more dear to the Count than he was, whose life would not be risked or -sacrificed for a certain amount of ducats. His only hope was, that -Count Frederick's presence might have some effect in mitigating his -own lord's eagerness. But in matters of life and death such slight -chances of escape afford but small consolation, and Ferdinand's mood -was certainly somewhat gloomy when the Baron of Eppenfeld's chief -officer returned with a man bearing some wine and meat. - -The young gentleman banished everything like care from his look, -however, as soon as he heard the bolts withdrawn; and he received the -provisions with a gay air, saying, "Thanks, thanks, good Sir, I hope -the wine is good; for this place is not lively, and I shall have -nought to while away the hours but wine or sleep, and the bed does not -seem a soft one." - -"You may have a harder to-morrow," was Fritz's only reply; and -withdrawing as soon as the provisions were set down, he left Ferdinand -once more to, his own thoughts. - -For some time the captive touched neither meat nor drink; leaning his -head upon his hand, and still meditating more and more sadly. At -length, however, he started up, saying, "Well, it is no use thinking, -I must have some food, whatever be the result;" and after eating -sparingly, he set the flagon to his lips and took a deep draught. The -wine was good, and it cheered him, but he did not repeat the libation; -and walking to and fro in his cell, he continued his meditations; now -smiling and now frowning, as fancy sometimes brightened and sometimes -darkened the prospect of the fate before him. While thus occupied, the -small loophole window of the cell showed him the grey change in the -colouring of the air, which precedes the coming on of night, and he -could hear the evening noise of the storks, as they prepared to wing -their way up from the stream that ran through the valley below, -towards the pinnacles of the castle. Soon after the growing twilight -nearly deprived him of all sight in his dull abode; and in a few -minutes more all was darkness. - -"Well, I will lay me down, and try to sleep," said Ferdinand; and -though the drowsy god refused to come at first, yet after a while his -eyes grew heavy, and he fell asleep. His slumbers were disturbed, -however, by the same sad and gloomy images which had haunted his -waking thoughts, and ere two hours were over, he woke again with a -start, and vague apprehensions of he knew not what. For several -moments he could not recollect where he was; but when he had collected -his thoughts, and found that the attempt to sleep any more would be in -vain, he rose, and walking to the little loophole, gazed out upon the -narrow space of sky that it offered to his sight. - -The valley below seemed to be filled with clouds of mist; but the -height upon which the castle stood raised it above the vapours, and he -could see two bright stars--one twinkling, clear, and immoveable, high -up in the sky, and the other with a softer and more gentle fire, which -appeared to move slowly across the lower part of the aperture. -Ferdinand's quick imagination speedily found images of human fate and -circumstances in what he saw. - -"There shines honour and truth above," he said; "steadfast to the end; -and there moves love and hope along the course of earthly life, pure -and bright, even if less sparkling than the higher light." - -He stood and gazed for nearly half an hour, for there was something -attractive in those stars which kept him fixed to the spot. It seemed -in his solitude as if there was a companionship in their rays--as if -they shone to soothe and cheer him; and he was still suffering his -fancy to sport free amongst the fields of space, when he heard a step -approaching, as if some one were about to pass before the loophole; a -moment or two after, before it reached the spot where he stood, there -was a pause, and then a voice said, "Where is the postern? It used to -be somewhere here. Hundert Schweren! they cannot have blocked it up." - -"Whose voice is that?" said Ferdinand, in a low tone. There was an -instant pause, and all was again silent, till Ferdinand repeated his -question, saying, "Who is there? I should know the voice.--Is it you, -Franz?" - -"Hush!" said the speaker without, and the next instant the lower part -of the loophole was darkened by what seemed the head of a man. - -"Is that you in there, Master Ferdinand?" said the voice of the smith. -"Answer quietly, for we may be overheard from above." - -"It is even I, Franz," answered the young gentleman. "But I fear you -are bringing yourself into great peril; and on my account too, if I am -not mistaken." - -"Never mind that," answered the smith. "I have plenty to help me in -case of need. But can you tell me where the postern is, lad? I will -soon get in if I can but find it." - -"I know not where it is," answered Ferdinand; "but I saw traces of the -passage going on beyond this door. However, when you are in I do not -see how you will be able to reach me." - -"Easy enough, easy enough," answered Franz Creussen. "I know the place -of old, and I have not heard that the Baron has laid out much money in -altering his castle since he had it. Besides, I will number the -loop-holes as I go, and then we shall be sure to get you out." - -"Thanks Franz, a thousand thanks," answered the young gentleman. "Were -I to stay till to-morrow, I find I should most probably make my exit -by a window and a rope." - -"Well, keep quiet, and be ready," answered Franz Creussen. "Come along -my man, and have the horn ready for a blast. I will keep the door -against any ten of them, when once we've got it open, till the men -from below can come up." Thus saying, he walked on; but Ferdinand -could hear his steps for only six or seven paces farther, and then the -worthy smith seemed to stop, and a dull sound was heard, as of some -one sawing slowly through a thick and heavy piece of timber. Ferdinand -remembered that as he had been carried, or rather pushed along the -passage from which the cell entered, he had seen a low door at the -end, which might well be a postern leading out upon the rock. But he -feared that the sound which caught his ear might rouse some of the -other tenants of the castle; or attract the notice of some watchful -sentinels upon the walls. The predatory habits of the Baron of -Eppenfeld, however, and the frequent feuds which they entailed with -his neighbours, had not taught him that caution which was a part of -the natural disposition of the Count of Ehrenstein; and trusting to -the renown of a name which had become terrible, and the natural -strength of his hold, he maintained a very different watch from that -which his captive had been accustomed to see practised. His soldiery, -too, imitating the habits of their leader, were by no means exempt -from his vices; and an alternation of cunning schemes, fierce -enterprises, and reckless revelry, formed the life of the inhabitants -of Eppenfeld. A number of the men had been sent out the night before -upon different errands affecting the peculiar circumstances in which -the Baron was placed. The rest had finished their carouse as soon as -the capture of Ferdinand and his companions was effected; and a -solitary watchman, placed on a high tower, solaced his loneliness by a -long and comfortable nap, with his back resting against the -battlements. - -Thus no ear but Ferdinand's heard the sound, which ceased much sooner -than he expected, and drawing near to the door, he listened eagerly, -till at length he heard the creaking of rusty hinges, and then a step -in the passage. The next instant he distinguished the drawing of -bolts, but it was not the door of his own cell which they had -unfastened, and he then knocked gently with his hand, to indicate the -place of his confinement. The step then came on, the heavy wooden bar -was removed, the other fastenings undone, and his eye, accustomed to -the darkness, could make out the tall figure of the smith, as he bent -down to look in. - -"Are you there, lad?" said Franz Creussen. "Ay, I see you now; come -along, come along; have you any arms?" - -"My sword they have got, and my head-piece," answered Ferdinand; "the -rest they left me. Let us away, Franz. I can get arms hereafter; yet I -would fain, were it possible, free the poor fellows who were with me." - -"Oh! they will be safe enough," answered Franz Creussen; "you were the -only one in danger. We must lose no time, for we have got far to go, -and may have much to do.--But we'll leave the doors open behind us, -that the Counts may get in; for I dare say these swine will not find -it out till they have the spears of Ehrenstein under their walls." - -Thus saying, he hurried away down the passage to the postern door, -where one of his stout workmen was standing; and somewhat to his -surprise, Ferdinand now found that both master and man were completely -armed. - -"Why, Franz," he said, in a low voice; "you look like a knight." - -"Ay," answered Franz Creussen, merrily; "they always told me I look -worse than I am. But come along, come along, and mind your footing, -for on my life there are some spots where it is not safe to pass." - -Slowly wending their way along upon the narrow ledge of rock -immediately under the walls of the castle on that side, with the deep -valley wrapped in mists and shadows beneath them, and the blue sky -with its thousand bright eyes twinkling up above, they came at the end -of about a hundred yards, to a narrow footway down the front of the -rock, not much less dangerous than the beetling summit which they had -just quitted. In the bottom of the valley, about a mile from -Eppenfeld, they found a large party of men and horses waiting for -them, with a led horse over and above the number of the smith's -companions, showing clearly that he had little doubted, from the -first, that he should be able to set his young friend free. Few words -were spoken, but mounting quickly, they took their way towards -Anweiler, and ere long left that small place behind them. - -"Now we are safe enough," said Franz Creussen; "for though the beast -of Eppenfeld may perhaps pursue you farther, if he should find that -you are gone, he will go straight towards Ehrenstein, and we must take -another path. We may as well separate, however, and send some of the -men on the direct road, then their horses' feet will mislead him." - -This plan was accordingly followed, and the smith and his young -companion, with five or six more of the party, took their way down -towards the valley of the Rhine, and then made a circuit to the left, -in the direction of Dürkheim, while the rest followed the straight -road over the hills. - -Little was said, either by Franz Creussen or Ferdinand, as they rode -at the head of the troop; but at length, at the crossing of the road, -the smith suddenly drew in his rein, saying, "I forgot to tell the -men, if they met with the Counts and their party, to say that they -would find the postern door open. Ride off after them, Peterkin, as -fast as you can; straight up that road to the left there.--You may as -well take all the other men with you, for we sha'n't need them here. -The Baron won't dare to come down into this open country.--But let -some one give Master Ferdinand a lance, or at worst a sword; though I -think a sword is the best of the two after all." - -"The Counts won't set out till they hear or see something of me," said -Ferdinand; "or at all events not before to-morrow." - -"I don't know that," answered Franz Creussen. "Your lord might not, -but he has got a better man with him; and as to their hearing, they've -heard long ago,--get ye gone, Peterkin, and take the men, as I told -you." - -These orders were obeyed as promptly as if he had been a military -commander; and the smith and his young companion rode on at a slow -pace for about half a mile. - -At length Ferdinand remarked, "I think we could get forward quicker, -Franz; the horses don't seem tired." - -"Ay, but I want to talk to you a bit, Master Ferdinand; I've long -wished it, and now I've got the opportunity.--But look there,--lights -moving along the hills. The two Counts, take my word for it. But never -you mind, come on towards Ehrenstein. You may do as much good there as -where they are going." - -"I think so too, Franz," answered Ferdinand; "and I am anxious to get -there fast; for Father George wishes to see me to-night, and it must -be now near two." - -"Ah! that alters the case," answered Franz Creussen. "We'll spur on -then.--Two, why it's past three by this time;" and striking his horse -with his spur, he trotted quickly along the road. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - - -The travellers paused not till they had to turn their horses up the -side of the hills; but then the beasts slackened their pace without -the riders drawing the rein, for the ascent was steep, and the roads -not so good as they are now. A wide wood covered the slopes; and the -path wound in and out amongst the trees, while glimpses of the rising -moon were seen through the brakes, where the leafy screen fell away; -and often a straggling ray of moonlight was caught pouring over the -bushes, even where the bright orb of night was invisible to the eye of -the wanderer. - -"I know not how to offer you my thanks, Franz," said Ferdinand of -Altenburg, as he laid down the bridle on the beast's neck. "I know you -would have no wordy gratitude; and I must not hope that you will ever -be in circumstances which may enable me to return you the kindness you -have shown me. Nevertheless I hope some occasion may come when I can -prove to you how deeply I feel it." - -"God send that Franz Creussen may ever want help as little as he needs -it now," answered the stout smith; "and God send he may ever be as -able and as willing to lend it to those who deserve it, Master -Ferdinand. I know not which would be the greatest curse, to be -unwilling though able, or to be willing and yet unable, to aid a good -fellow-creature in his need. The first, methinks; for though in the -latter case one might feel much pain, in the former one would have no -pleasure. But it is not gratitude or service in return, one works for. -One hammers iron for pay; but one does not do what is kind for -recompense of any sort. On the contrary, I think one takes a greater -pleasure in serving a person who can never repay it, especially when -one has served him before. Now I have had a kindness for you from your -boyhood. Do you remember when you used to come to me from the Abbey to -give you fishing lines to catch the poor shining fellows out of the -stream--the White fish and the May fish? A little curly-headed urchin -you were then, as wild as a young roe deer, but not half so timid." - -"I remember it well, Franz," replied Ferdinand, "those were happy -days, and I shall never forget them. You were always very kind to me, -and I believe used to spoil me, and do everything I asked you." - -"Not a whit, not a whit," cried the smith. "I pitched you into the -river once when you were over wilful, just to cool your fire; and then -I pulled you out again, and laughed at you, which did you more good -than the wetting.--But that was a long time ago--you were just six -years old then." - -"I recollect it well," answered the young gentleman, "and it served me -right. I have never failed to think of it when I have felt inclined to -give way to angry impatience. It was just by the mill pond." - -"Ay, your memory is good," said the smith, "can you remember anything -before that?" - -"Oh, yes," replied Ferdinand, after a moment's thought; "I can -recollect many things that happened at the Abbey. I can remember, when -the Abbot Waldimer died, the great bell tolling, and how hard it was -for Father George to teach me to read and write." - -"Ay, but before that?" asked Franz Creussen. "Can you recall any other -place, before you were at the Abbey?" - -"Sometimes I think I do," was the young gentleman's reply. "You know, -Franz, when one is riding along in the night, everything will seem -dark and indistinct around one, with trees, and rocks, and houses, all -faint, and scarcely to be distinguished one from the other, taking -strange shapes and unnatural forms; and then, if one passes the open -door of a cottage where there is a light burning, or a forge like -yours, one suddenly sees a small space around, all clear and defined; -and then the minute after everything is dark again. Now the past seems -to me just like that. I see, when I turn my eyes to the days of my -childhood, a number of strange vague things, of which I can make out -the forms but faintly, and know not what they are; but here and there -comes a spot of brightness, where all seems as if it were now before -my eyes." - -"Ay, that is curious," said the smith. "Can you tell me any of these -matters that you recollect so clearly?" - -Ferdinand paused a moment, and then answered, "I am sure I can trust -you, Franz; but Father George warned me to tell no one at the castle -anything I may be able to remember of my early days." - -"I am not of the castle," answered Franz Creussen; "and besides, if I -chose, I could tell you more of those days than you yourself could -tell me." - -"Indeed," answered Ferdinand; "I remember you, it is true, ever since -my boyhood, but still, I do not see your figure in any of those -visions which sometimes come back upon me." - -"Ay, but I've held you in my arms when you were not a twelvemonth -old," said his companion, "and carried you at my saddle-bow during six -hours of a long night. It is true I did not see you for years after, -till Franz Creussen became the Abbey smith, and you the ward of Father -George. But tell me what you recollect, lad, for you may tell me -safely. I can keep counsel, as you may see; but things are now coming -to a close, and it is right we should all understand each other." - -"The first thing I can recollect," said the young gentleman, "seems to -me a fine house in a small town, with gardens and trees, and a -beautiful lady I called mother,--that is a pleasant dream, Franz, full -of happy things, sports of childhood, joys in flowers, and in birds' -songs,--I am sure I remember it well, for nobody has talked to me -about those things since, and it cannot be all fancy." - -"No, no," answered Franz Creussen; "it is all true, quite true, and -the lady was your mother! What more?" - -"The next thing I remember," continued the young man; "is a less happy -day. It seems as if I had been playing at my mother's knee in that -same house--it was not a castle, but like the dwelling of some rich -burgher,--and then suddenly came in a messenger, with what seemed evil -tidings; for the lady wept, and in a few minutes all was bustle and -confusion, packing up clothes and other things in haste; and then -people spurring away at fiery speed, till I was weary, and fell -asleep." - -"Ay, ay, who carried you, then?" said the smith; "who but Franz -Creussen? What do you recollect next?" - -"There must have been a long interval," replied Ferdinand; "for I was -a bigger boy then; and of the intervening time I re-member little or -nothing; but shortly after that it seems as if I was very lonely and -sad, and seldom saw my mother, till one night I was called into a room -where she lay upon a bed propped up with pillows, and there were -priests in the room, and men in black gowns, and the girl called -Caroline, who used to nurse me; but my mother's face was sadly changed -then,--it was thin and sharp, and pale, and the lips seemed bloodless, -but her eyes were exceedingly bright, and her teeth as white as driven -snow. She had a crucifix lying before her,--I recollect it well--a -black cross with an ivory figure on it,--and she put her arms round my -neck, and kissed me often, and prayed God to bless me, and make me -happier and more fortunate than my father and herself.--That was not -long before I went to the Abbey, I think; but I never saw her after." - -Franz Creussen was silent for a moment or two, apparently from some -emotion of the mind, but at length he answered, in a low tone, "She -died that night, Ferdinand. You remember more than I thought, and I -doubt not a few words would make you remember much more still. But -here we are upon the top of the hill, and if Father George requires -you to-night, it will be well for you to ride on quickly, for the day -will be dawning ere long." - -"I had better go to the castle first," replied Ferdinand; "for if the -Count be not on his way to Eppenfeld, he may blame me for delay." - -"No need, no need," answered the smith; "he is on the way, I am sure; -but we shall find some of the men at the forge, who will tell us. -There lies the village, not a hundred yards in advance." - -The tidings they received at the blacksmith's dwelling showed, as he -had expected, that the Count of Ehrenstein had passed nearly an hour -before, and that, having met, farther on, and questioned some of the -party to whom Ferdinand owed his deliverance, he had sent back a -message by them, commanding his young follower not to join him at -Eppenfeld, but to remain at the Castle of Ehrenstein till his return. - -Bidding adieu to the smith, with hearty thanks, Ferdinand spurred on -alone, but paused for a moment at the chapel in the wood, and knocked -at the door of the good priest. At first no answer was returned, but a -second summons soon roused Father George from his slumbers, and -brought him to the door. - -The grey dawn was now beginning to break, and as soon as the priest -beheld the face of his young ward, he exclaimed, "Not to-night, -Ferdinand, not to-night.--Night do I call it? Heaven help us! it is -morning. See you not the sun coming up there? To-morrow night, my boy, -as soon as all in the castle are asleep, come down, and bring the lady -with you. I pray this Baron of Eppenfeld may keep the Counts before -his tower for a day or two." - -"I doubt that such will be the case, good Father," answered Ferdinand, -"for there is a postern open, and they have tidings of it." - -"That is unlucky," said the priest, "but speed you on to the castle, -and hide well your purpose from every eye. Let no one see you -thoughtful or agitated, and go early to rest, as if you were tired -with the labours of the days past. Away, Ferdinand, away." - -The young man waved his hand and rode on, and in a few minutes his -horse was in front of the great gates. Beckoning to one of the -sentinels on the walls, he told him to go down and wake the warder to -let him in. But the man came down himself, and unbarred the gates, -while Ferdinand, dismounting, led his horse across the draw-bridge. - -"Ha! God's benison on you, Master Ferdinand!" said the soldier. "You -have luck to get out of the castle of Eppenfeld. How did you manage -that?" - -"I will tell you all another time, Henry," replied the young -gentleman. "I am tired now, and hungry, to say sooth. Who is in the -castle?" - -"Why, the Count went forth some time ago," replied the man, "and left -nought but a guard of twenty men, with the women, and Count -Frederick's priest, and him they call Martin of Dillberg." - -Ferdinand muttered something to himself which the soldier did not -hear, and then led on his horse towards the stable. None of the grooms -were up; but every young gentleman in those days was well accustomed -to tend his own horse, and, though it must be confessed, the escaped -captive did what was necessary for his poor charger as rapidly as -possible, yet he did not neglect him. As soon as this duty was -accomplished, he hurried back into the castle; and had any one been -watching him, it might have been observed that his step became more -light and noiseless as he ascended the great stairs, and passed along -the corridor, which stretched across one entire side of the principal -mass of the building. At the door next but one to that of the Count of -Ehrenstein, he paused for several moments, and looked up with an -anxious and hesitating look, as if he doubted whether he should go in. -But the morning light was by this time shining clear through the -casements; he heard the sound of persons moving below, and for -Adelaide's sake he forbore, and walked on towards the narrow staircase -which led to his own chamber. Ere he had taken ten steps, however, a -sound, as slight as the whisper of the summer wind, caused him to stop -and turn his head; and he saw the face of Bertha looking out from her -mistress's apartments. Instantly going back as noiselessly as -possible, he whispered, "Is your lady waking? Can I come in?" - -"Not unless you are mad," answered Bertha. "She has been up all night, -and I too, God wot--though I have slept comfortably in the corner. But -thank Heaven you are safe and well, for her little foolish heart would -break easy enough if anything were to happen to your unworthiness. But -what news? When did you return?" - -"I am but this instant back," answered the lover, "I have been captive -at Eppenfeld, and only freed by good Franz Creussen. Tell her that I -have seen Father George, however, and that he says--mark well, -Bertha--to-morrow night, as soon as all is quiet in the castle. She -will soon understand." - -"Oh, I understand, too," answered Bertha, "for I have seen Father -George as well as you--forced to go down to do your errands. Well, -poor souls, as there is no other to help you, I must. But now tell me -how is all this to be arranged?" - -"I will come, I will come," replied Ferdinand, "as soon as every one -is asleep." - -"Well, on my word, you gain courage quickly," exclaimed Bertha. "You -will come! What, here?" - -"Ay, anywhere," rejoined Ferdinand; "if it cost me life, pretty -Bertha, I would come--but hark, there are people stirring above--Tell -your lady--adieu." - -"Be cautious, be cautious, rash young man," said the girl, and -instantly drawing back, closed the door. - -On the stairs Ferdinand encountered Martin of Dillberg, who would fain -have stopped him to speak of his adventures; but the former passed on, -after a brief answer to the youth's inquiry regarding his escape; and -Martin of Dillberg proceeded on his way, with his lip curling for a -moment in a sneering smile, which faded away quickly, and gave place -to a look of deep and anxious thought. - -Ferdinand sought no great length of repose; but was speedily down -again in the halls of the castle, on the battlements, in the -corridors, in the hope of somewhere meeting her he loved. Nor was he -disappointed; for some hours before noon, Adelaide came forth, with -hopes and wishes like his own, to walk upon the walls.--But hardly -had she and Ferdinand met--not ten words had been spoken between -them--when Martin of Dillberg was at the lady's side; and thus during -the whole day were they deprived of all means of direct communication. -As if he divined their object, and was resolved to frustrate it, the -youth was always on the watch, ever near, never abashed, although the -effect of his presence on their conversation was only too visible. -Thus passed by hour after hour, till towards evening, tidings arrived -that the two Counts were still beneath the walls of Eppenfeld, and -that but little progress had been made in the siege. Ferdinand -questioned the messenger as to whether the postern by which he had -escaped had been attempted; but upon that point the man could give him -no information; and the young gentleman thought it his duty to send -the soldier back to his lord with intelligence in case the news which -had been formerly sent had been misunderstood or not received--and -with a request that he might be permitted to join the attacking force -on the following day. - -For one brief moment, soon after the messenger had departed, Adelaide -and her lover were alone together; and ere their tormentor was upon -them again, she had time to say, "Bertha has told me all, dear -Ferdinand, I shall be ready." - -Not long after, she retired to her own apartments for the night; and -her lover remained in the hall with Martin of Dillberg and Count -Frederick's chaplain, trying to weary them out, till nearly eleven -o'clock at night. Then declaring that he was tired with all that he -had done during the preceding day,--which was true enough,--he -withdrew to his own chamber, and there sat meditating over the -happiness of the coming hour. The moments seemed sadly long; it -appeared as if the sounds of voices speaking and closing doors would -never end; but at length the noises ceased, one after the other; and -after waiting half an hour without hearing anything stir within the -walls, with a beating but happy heart, Ferdinand approached his door, -opened it, and listened. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - - -The whole castle of Eppenfeld slept as tranquilly for several hours -after Ferdinand of Altenburg had left it, as if no danger had -threatened its lord, and no troops were marching to attack it; and it -is very probable that the evasion of the young captive, and the means -of entrance which he had left open for the enemy, would not have been -discovered till chance or humanity led some one in the place to send -him food, had it not been for an accidental event which happened -during the night. We have seen that one of the motives for preventing -the young gentleman's return to his lord, was to afford time for -storing the castle with provisions; and various parties had been sent -out to scour the country for that purpose. Some of the leaders went -nearly drunk, and returned sober, and some went sober and returned -nearly drunk. Amongst the latter was a personage who, accompanied by -two companions, found his way to a village where they enjoyed -themselves for a couple of hours; and then, finding it late, and no -progress made in their foray, they rode on to the side of a hill, -where the villagers were accustomed to feed their swine, and -possessing themselves of the unruly beasts, commenced the far more -difficult enterprise of driving them to the castle. Now the distance -could scarcely be less than ten miles; and if any one considers what -it is for three men, not very sober, to drive sixty swine such a -distance, he will not be surprised that the task occupied many hours. -Nevertheless, on approaching the castle, which they did by the lesser -entrance at the back, the marauders found their flock shorn of its -fair proportions, and not more than forty of the beasts which never -chew the cud could be mustered, notwithstanding all the counting which -the three soldiers could accomplish. One of the hogs had run one way, -another another. One had committed suicide by throwing itself into a -stream, rather than follow the course on which fate and circumstances -were driving it; another had been run through the body by one of the -soldiers, somewhat too eager in pursuit; others had rushed back -between the horses, and had effected their escape; while others again -lay down upon the road, and refused to move even when the lance galled -their sturdy chines. - -Within a mile of Eppenfeld, however, the leader fancied that he had -got the remainder of the herd in security, for the road was narrow, -and led straight up to the lesser gate of the castle. Unfortunately, -however, the small foot-path communicating with the postern, branched -off on the right hand of the road about a hundred yards' distance from -the walls. Though it was night, and the whole party, horse and foot, -was tired, a brisk young porker, who seemed to set fatigue at -defiance, instantly perceived the way to the postern, and as it was -evidently a path which his drivers did not wish to pursue, he darted -towards it, with a sort of caracole, and a grunt of intimation to his -companions. The hint was not lost upon them, and with one universal -whine of delight, the whole herd were instantly running along the -path, and thence pursuing their way by the narrow ledge of rock under -the wall of the castle. - -To follow on horseback was out of the question, but two of the men -instantly sprang to the ground, with a multitude of curious and -high-sounding German oaths, and rushed after the bristly fugitives. -Even then the open postern might have escaped observation, had not -pigs been fond of strange places; but exactly at the spot where the -small door stood open, a halt took place amongst the herd, and a -tremendous pressure from behind was the consequence. Five or six were -pitched over the edge of the rock, fracturing their skulls as they -fell, and the rest, finding that hesitation was destruction, parted -into two bodies, the one pursuing its way straightforward towards the -opposite road through the valley, the others rushing, jostling, and -squeaking, into the castle, as if it had been a great sty, for which, -indeed, they might very well mistake it. - -The pursuit of the first troop was evidently useless, and the two men, -turning after the second division, proceeded to close the door to -secure their prey, and then, for the first time, perceived that a -large portion of woodwork, between the iron bands which secured the -door, had been sawn away. To have found the postern open would have -been nothing very marvellous in their eyes, considering the state of -discipline in which they lived; but the work of the saw was convincing -proof to them that somebody had been sawing; and driving the pigs -before them into the court-yard, they at once proceeded to inquire who -the sawyer was. - -The whole castle was speedily roused and in an uproar; and what -between the capture of the pigs, as they galloped about the wide -court-yard, the instant putting of them to death, in not the most -scientific manner, for want of food to keep them in a living and -unsalted state, and the various operations for rendering the postern -even more defensible than before, the active labours of the whole -garrison were not over when daylight broke upon the castle, and the -spears and pennons of the forces of Ehrenstein and Leiningen were seen -coming up the valley. - -The Baron laughed loud and long, as he watched the approach of the -enemy. "Not a hundred and fifty men," he exclaimed; "on my life! I -have a great mind to go out and meet them; why we have eighty here -within the walls, and methinks the reiters of Eppenfeld are at least -worth double those of Ehrenstein--but we will let them waste -themselves upon the postern, for doubtless that young coistrel will -direct them thither." - -"I rather think they will strive to take us by famine, my valiant -lord," replied Fritz, who was standing by him; "for depend upon it -they have made such speed in order to prevent us from providing -against a siege." - -"Then we will give the lie to their expectations," cried the Baron of -Eppenfeld. "Ho! bring us some good stout beams here. We will hang out -a new sort of banner, such as they have never seen. Plant one firmly -in every tower, and then bring up the carcasses of the pigs and oxen." - -Under his directions the slaughtered cattle were pulled up aloft, and -hung out from the battlements, like the banners of those days; and for -some minutes the approaching force could not make out the meaning of -this strange display. - -"By Heaven! I believe he has hanged the poor fellows who went with our -young friend Ferdinand," exclaimed Count Frederick, as the pigs, being -the lightest, were first swung up to the top of the beams. - -"Nay, nay, my good lord," cried Seckendorf, "they seem to me like -swine. Ay, and there goes an ox, too, depend upon it he intends to -allow us that he can hold out for a month or two." - -"Let us to the postern with all speed," said old Karl of Mosbach; "he -may find us in the donjon ere dinner time to help him eat his pork." - -"Let it be well reconnoitred first," said the Count of Ehrenstein; -"there is no use of our throwing away men's lives upon a useless -attempt. It is evident that he is prepared to receive us. He has -probably divined that we would come so soon, from the discovery of the -lad's escape; and if so, depend upon it, the postern has been -strengthened." - -A party was accordingly detached to examine carefully the approach to -the proposed point of attack, and advanced some way up the path -leading from the valley. The walls of the castle were fully manned; -and hand guns not having been yet invented, bows and crossbows were -bent against the enemy: but not an arrow was discharged or a quarrel -let fly, till the men of Ehrenstein having advanced considerably -within range, discovered that the postern was blocked up in such a -manner as would render any attack upon it hopeless with so small a -force. No sooner did they commence their retreat, however, than a -flight of missiles assailed them from the walls, greatly hastening -their speed, and wounding several. - -"Ah, ha!" cried the Baron, "they have had enough of the postern, and -they will soon have had enough of the castle. It is too hard a stone -for the teeth of these two poor Counts!" - -But the worthy lord greatly miscalculated the character of one at -least of his adversaries. The Count of Ehrenstein, indeed, would very -willingly have accepted the liberation of his men as compensation for -all offences; but the Baron did not even think fit to give the -slightest sign of making that reparation; and Count Frederick was not -a man to suffer any difficulties to divert him in his efforts to wipe -out what he considered as both an insult and an injury. Shortly after -the return of the reconnoitring party to their companions, various -movements were observed amongst the assailants which somewhat puzzled -the people on the walls, and discouraged the more wary and -experienced. Three or four horsemen rode off in different directions -at full speed; and the rest of the forces, dividing into two parties, -posted themselves on the roads on either side of the castle, while the -two Counts, with some ten or twelve picked men, took up their position -under the shade of a large clump of beech trees, on the side of the -hill opposite to the postern, whence both of the principal gates of -Eppenfeld could be seen, and succour afforded to either of the bodies -of assailants in case a sortie should be made from the walls. There -dismounting from their horses, the two noblemen and their followers -stretched themselves on the grass, and seemed calmly waiting for the -result of the steps they had taken. - -"Depend upon it, my good lord, they have sent to Neustadt for a party -of those dogged citizens," said Fritz, "or perhaps to Landau for -cannon." - -"Nonsense and folly!" exclaimed the Baron, "they can never drag cannon -up here. Why, the great pierrier of Landau weighs a couple of ton, and -the little one a ton. They may bring a falconet, but that will do no -good; and as to the pigs of Neustadt, we will slaughter them as they -come, and send them home pickled to their fat wives." - -Still it was evident that the worthy lord was by no means comfortable; -and his uneasiness increased when he saw the men of Leiningen begin to -cut down and shape some stout trees. He had so frequently beheld -persons of power and courage, whom he had injured or offended, turn -away, hopeless of redress, after a short demonstration against his -stronghold, that he had calculated boldly upon such being the case in -the present instance, and the signs of resolution and perseverance -displayed by the two Counts, showed him plainly that the far more -serious and discouraging affair of a siege was likely to follow. With -dogged resolution, however, he held to resistance, and the only effect -upon his mind was to make him take immediate measures for still -further strengthening the defences of his castle. Great beams were -placed across the gates, and the lower part of each was piled up with -rubbish, which was very abundant within the building. The stones of -the court-yard were taken up and carried to the battlements, to cast -down upon the heads of any of the assailants who might venture to -approach the walls; and several of the men, more dexterous than the -rest, were set to provide stores of arrows and bolts, lest the -provision already made should be exhausted. At the same time -considerable quantities of wine were distributed amongst the men, to -keep up their spirits; and as a warning to the rest, one of the -soldiers, who ventured to hint that it might be better for the Baron -to accommodate matters with the two Counts, had the lobes of his ears -slit with a short dagger: his lord declaring that he was only fit to -wear earrings. - -Nevertheless, there was something in the calm immobility of the enemy, -which created very unpleasant sensations in the bosom of the Baron of -Eppenfeld. It was evident that they were waiting for farther -assistance, and the perfect tranquillity of their aspect led him to -believe that they felt confident that assistance would be complete and -overpowering. Though not a very imaginative man, he tortured his fancy -during the whole day, to divine whence and of what kind the expected -succour would be. But about half an hour before nightfall, all doubts -upon the subject were brought to an end, by the appearance, first, of -a large body of pikemen on foot, in whom he instantly recognised, by -their banners, the commons of several neighbouring towns, who had -suffered by his spirit of appropriation, and, secondly, of a -considerable force of horse bearing the cognizance of the House of -Hardenberg. Worse than all, however, were seen, in the midst, two long -wagons, dragged slowly forward by eight or ten bullocks, each -displaying a large, clumsy-looking implement, somewhat like the lopped -trunk of a tree, which he had little doubt were neither more nor less -than the two great cannon of Landau, against which, if once brought to -bear upon the gates, the castle could not stand an hour. His only hope -was, that their bulk and weight would render them unserviceable; but -Count Frederick of Leiningen was seen to ride down instantly to meet -his advancing allies, and by the time that night fell, two of the -wheels had been detached from the wagons, together with the axle, and -the larger cannon had been swung between them so dexterously, and with -such an even balance, that it was moved without difficulty at least -two or three hundred yards on the road to Eppenfeld. - -The fall of night prevented it from being used immediately; but there -it remained just before the gates, at the distance of perhaps two -bowshots, haunting the imagination of the Baron with the thought of -its fire on the succeeding day. Still he strove to make the evening -meal pass cheerfully, and plenty of his best wine was poured forth to -raise the courage of the soldiery; but, alas, without effect. The -great gun of Landau was a sort of nightmare, which sat upon the -stomachs of the stout men-at-arms; and a better means could not have -been devised of sparing the provisions of the garrison, than by -bringing it before the gates. - -Some of the garrison drank deep indeed, either from pure recklessness, -or a keen sense of danger, which they wished to get rid of by the -pleasantest process at hand; but the wine seemed all to be poured into -the great gun of Landau; for it certainly produced no greater effect -upon those who imbibed it than it would have done upon that huge mass -of wood and iron. The watch fires that were now seen blazing around -the castle on every side, showed that the Leaguer was strict, and that -no path of escape was unguarded; and though the Baron affected to be -jovial, and to laugh at the Counts and their men, who were forced to -sleep under the canopy of heaven, yet there was a wandering and -uncertain look in his eye, and an anxious glance every now and then to -the countenance of his friend Fritz, which told that the mind within -was anything but easy. - -At length, as if he could bear it no longer, the Baron rose, and -beckoned his lieutenant into a little chamber in the neighbouring -tower, where the propriety of a surrender, on conditions, was formally -discussed, without any consideration of the ears that had been slit a -few hours before. - -"You had better send some one out, my lord," said Fritz, "to say that -you will give up the prisoners and the treasure. I would not offer -more at first; for, depend upon it, they'll demand more, and you can -but grant at last." - -"But who can I send?" said the Baron. "If I choose one of our own men, -he will either get drunk amongst the enemy, or go over to their -party." - -"That's very likely," answered Fritz; "shall I go?" - -"Humph! I can't spare you," said the Baron. - -"Well, then, send one of the prisoners," rejoined Fritz. "If he stays, -it can't be helped; and we can offer him reward if he comes back. We -had better not let the men know anything about it." - -This course was accordingly adopted. One of the men of Ehrenstein, who -seemed the most sagacious of the party, was led by Fritz to a postern -opposite to that which had been blocked up, and despatched with a -message to the two Counts. Fritz remained to watch for his return upon -the battlements above; and the Baron himself went back to the flask, -to console expectation as well as he could. - -"He will be here in a couple of hours, I dare say," said the Baron; -but his enemies did not make him wait so long. At the end of an hour, -Fritz appeared with the messenger, who bore a scrap of written paper -in his hand. - -"What the devil is this?" said the Baron, looking at it askance, as -the man handed it to him. "Does he think we've clerks and shavelings -here in Eppenfeld? Could he not speak plain German, and send message -for message?" - -Fritz gazed at it with the same hopeless look; but the messenger -relieved them from their difficulty by saying, "He read it over to me -twice; so I can tell you what it means. Let me look at the marks, -however, to bring it in my mind. Thus it runs: 'Count Frederick of -Leiningen,'--ay, that's his name there 'and the Count of Ehrenstein to -the Baron of Eppenfeld.' He requires the immediate surrender of the -castle, the restoration of the treasure taken from the Venetian -merchants, compensation from the goods of the Baron for the wrong done -and the trouble given. 'Upon these conditions his life shall be -spared; but the castle shall be levelled with the ground, and never -rebuilt.'" - -The man paused; and the Baron of Eppenfeld swore an oath, such as -probably no mouth but that of one of the robber chivalry of those days -ever contained or gave vent to. It terminated, however, with a vow, -that he would die under the ruins of his stronghold, sooner than -submit to such conditions; and his worthy lieutenant was quite sure he -would keep his word. Neither, it must be confessed, did Fritz himself -greatly differ in opinion from his lord. The castle of Eppenfeld was, -in fact, his principal means of subsistence; and, although he might -perhaps have found some other, if it were taken away, yet there was -none on the face of the earth that he thought worth living for; and a -gallant defence and death, sword in hand, were things too frequently -in the contemplation of persons in his station, to cause him much -emotion at the prospect of their being realized. - -Fritz, however, was somewhat shrewder in his observations than the -Baron; and as soon as the latter had done blaspheming, the lieutenant -inquired, addressing their messenger, "Whom did you see, fellow? You -bring a letter from both the Counts; yet, when you speak of them, you -say always, 'He,' as if only one had had a hand in it." - -"I saw Count Frederick of Leiningen," answered the messenger; "but he -said he had power to write for both, as my own lord was sleeping: and -now I pray you send me back as you promised. It may go worse with you, -if you do not." - -"You shall go--you shall go," replied Fritz, "for you will have a -message to take back;" and then drawing the Baron aside for a moment -or two, he spoke to him eagerly in a whisper. - -"By the eleven thousand virgins thou art right," cried the Lord of -Eppenfeld at length; "so shall it be. Go back, rascal," he continued, -addressing the messenger, "and tell Count Frederick that he shall rot -before Eppenfeld, and I will eat the stones thereof, before I take -such conditions. Tell him I care not for his bombards; the walls are -proof against them, and he will find this hold a harder morsel than he -thinks. That for Count Frederick!--But now mark me--seek out your own -lord privately, and say to him that I love him better than his -comrade, that I served him well in former times, and that if he will -withdraw his people, and leave me to deal with Count Frederick alone, -he shall have the treasure; but if not, I will send a message by nine -of the clock to-morrow morning to him and his friend, just to remind -him of how I did serve him many years ago. Mark me well, say every -word just as I say it;" and he repeated the whole with great accuracy. - -The man promised to obey, and, again conducted by Fritz, was led out -of the castle. - -"That will diminish them by one-half," said the Baron, as soon as his -lieutenant returned to him, "and then for one bold stroke and -victory." - -Numerous discussions subsequently took place between the Lord of -Eppenfeld and his friend, in regard to preparations for the morrow; -numerous precautions were also taken; strict watch was enjoined; but -then, alas! the Baron and Fritz also returned to the flask, and many -others in the castle followed their example. The lieutenant, at a late -hour, betook himself to the walls, where he found all in order, and -paced up and down some time in a sort of dreamy state, where thought -and wine contended for the mastery; but the hour of three found him -sound asleep upon the battlements, with his head pillowed on a stone. - -How long he remained thus Fritz did not know; but the first thing that -woke him was a tremendous explosion just below. The whole castle -shook; some of the loose stones fell from the watch-tower above, and -well it was for Fritz, at that moment, that he had his steel morion on -his head. He was hardly roused, however, his whole senses were in -confusion and disarray, when loud shouts and cries from the court rose -up, and conveyed him better intelligence of the event which had taken -place than even the explosion; there were sounds of blows, and -clashing steel, and of heavy axes falling upon wood-work, and -exclamations of "Place taken! Place taken! Yield or die!" with many a -similar speech, which showed clearly enough that the garrison was not -alone in Eppenfeld. - -The want of brute courage, however, was not the defect of Fritz's -character, and the next instant he dashed down, sword in hand, to the -court, collecting one or two of his comrades as he went, and -exclaiming, "It is now for life! they will give no quarter! fight like -devils! we may yet drive them back!" But the scene that presented -itself in the court might have proved to any one willing to be -convinced, that, fight how they would, the garrison of Eppenfeld had -no chance of successful resistance. The gate had been partly blown in -by the bombard, which had been quietly drawn close up to the walls, -and was every moment presenting a wider aperture under the blows of -the axe; an overpowering number of adverse soldiery was already in the -court; others were rushing in through the gap in the gate; torches -could be seen coming up the slope, and displaying a stream of human -heads cased in iron pouring on. Everything proved that defence was -hopeless, but the Baron of Eppenfeld was already below, and with -fierce efforts, aided by some thirty of his men, was striving to drive -back the assailants and recover possession of the gateway. Fritz and -those who were with him hurried on to his assistance, and soon were -hand to hand with the enemy. Their arrival gave some new vigour to the -resistance, and the men of Leiningen and the citizens who were joined -with them, gave way a little; but fresh numbers poured in behind; the -Baron went down with a thundering blow upon his steel cap; and Fritz -received a wound in the throat which covered his cuirass with gore. - -With great difficulty the Lord of Eppenfeld was raised in the press, -and borne somewhat back; but as soon as he could stand he rushed upon -the enemy again, and aimed his blows around with the fury of despair. -His men gradually gave way, however, a number fell never to rise -again; but beaten back, step by step, they were, at length, forced -against the wall of the donjon, with nothing but the narrow doorway -behind them left as a means of escape. The man who was nearest it felt -his courage yield, turned, and ran towards the postern on the east. -Some cried, "I yield, I yield! good quarter, good quarter!" Others -fled after the first, and the Baron of Eppenfeld, seeing that all was -lost, looked round with glaring eyes, doubtful whether he should seek -safety in flight by the postern into the open country, or die in arms -where he stood. - -At that very moment, however, a loud voice cried, "Take him alive! -take him alive! The man with the wivern on his head!" and half a dozen -of the soldiers of Leiningen rushed towards him. One instantly went -down under a blow of his sword, but before it could fall again upon -the head of another, the rest were upon him, and the weapon was -wrenched from his grasp. - -A scene of wild confusion followed, which cannot be adequately -described. There was chasing through passages and chambers, hunting -out fugitives in remote places, driving them along the walls, seeking -them in vaults and towers; and many a deep groan and shrill cry of the -death agony attested that all the barbarous cruelties of a storming -were perpetrated in the halls of Eppenfeld. Some were taken alive, but -a greater number escaped by the postern into the country. There, -however, they were almost instantly captured; for the bands of the -Count of Ehrenstein had been left to keep guard without, and only two -or three of the fugitives found their way to the woods. - -In the mean time Count Frederick as soon as all resistance was over, -strode on to the hall, with a small number of his attendants who had -never left his side. There seating himself in the Baron's great chair, -he ordered the room to be cleared of all persons but two, while a -party remained to guard the door. His selection of his two councillors -was somewhat strange, for, though one was indeed a person in whom he -might be supposed to place confidence, being an old and faithful -knight who had accompanied him through all his wars while serving with -the knights of St. John, the other was no greater a personage than the -jester, who, however, took his seat beside the Count with great -gravity. - -The next moment, according to orders previously given, the Baron of -Eppenfeld was brought in between two men, with all his offensive arms -taken from him, and his head uncovered. The two soldiers who guarded -him there were instantly ordered to withdraw, and what followed -between the victor and the vanquished was only known to the four who -remained. The conversation was not long, however, for in less than -five minutes the soldiers were recalled, and ordered to remove the -Baron to his own chamber, treating him with courtesy. - -The man named Fritz was next called for, and while the Count's -followers were seeking for him, one of Count Frederick's knights -brought him the keys of the treasure room, and a roll of papers. -Several minutes elapsed before Fritz could be found, and just as he -was discovered at length, lying severely wounded amongst the dead in -the court, the Count of Ehrenstein, entered the castle with some of -his attendants, and after inquiring where Count Frederick was, made -his way to the hall, which he seemed to know well. - -"Is the Baron living or dead?" he asked, as soon as he entered. - -"Living, living, my noble friend," replied Count Frederick, in his -usual gay tone. "Caught like a badger; dug out of his hole, and biting -at all who came near him." - -"He might as well have died," said the Count of Ehrenstein, with a -cloudy brow; "we shall be troubled to know what to do with him." - -"Nay, if he would not be killed, we cannot help it," cried Count -Frederick; "though he seems a venomous snake indeed.--Ah! here comes -his worthy comrade, Herr Fritz!--Cannot he stand? He seems badly -hurt.--Well, noble Sir, I shall not trouble you with many questions, -You, it seems, led the party who plundered our Italian merchants; -whence got you tidings of their coming?" - -"From one of your own people; Count," replied the wounded man. "I know -not his name; but the Baron can tell you." - -"Where is the Baron?" demanded the Count of Ehrenstein. "I will go and -ask him." - -"Nay, he is caged,--he is caged," answered Count Frederick. "We shall -have time enough to question him hereafter." - -His noble companion did not seem very well satisfied with his answer, -but bent his eyes moodily on the ground; while the man Fritz took up -the conversation, in a sullen tone, saying, "I hope you will not -question me farther, my lord the Count; for I am faint from loss of -blood, and it is high time that you should either have me tended, or -end me at once." - -"Nay, Heaven forfend, Herr Fritz!" exclaimed Count Frederick; "we -shall want you hereafter, since you say it was one of my men who -helped you to your rich booty. Take him away, and try and stanch the -bleeding of his wounds. Give him some wine, if they have not drunk it -all; and then bring me water, that I may wash my hands. Nay, why so -grave, my noble fellow-soldier?" he continued, turning to the Count of -Ehrenstein; "but it is true you have lived long in peace, and are not -so much accustomed as myself to see scenes of slaughter and -destruction; and yet we must leave no part of the work here undone. I -will not quit Eppenfeld while there is one beam of timber spanning -from wall to wall. Nevertheless, it is not needful that you should -stay." - -"Oh, I will bear you company," said he of Ehrenstein. "It is true I -love not to see such things, yet still--" - -"Nay, but it is needless," interrupted Count Frederick. "You shall -guard the prisoners and the treasure back to Ehrenstein; while I will -remain and see the nest of plunderers destroyed." - -"And the Baron?" asked his friend, with a hesitating look. "He goes -with you, of course," replied Count Frederick; "only keep him safe, -for he is a wily fox." - -"Oh, that I will," replied the other, with a countenance which -suddenly brightened; "yet if I could aid you here, I am quite willing -to stay." - -"No need,--no need," answered Count Frederick. "I have men and means -enough." - -"Well, then, I will go and prepare for departure," said the Count of -Ehrenstein, "and will give you a victor's banquet when you arrive." - -Thus saying, he moved towards the door; and as he quitted the hall, -Count Frederick of Leiningen gave a meaning glance, half sad, half -sarcastic, first to the jester, and then to the old knight. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - - -The whole castle of Ehrenstein was still as the grave. There are times -when distant murmurs of busy life, when the hum of insects in the air, -when the scarce heard voice of the distant nightingale, when the -whisper of a passing breeze, that speaks as if but to make the -stillness felt, seem to increase the sensation of the silence. But -there is a deeper, deader silence than that, when all is so profoundly -tranquil that it seems as if no sound would ever wake again, when -death itself seems powerful over all; and the absence of all activity -makes us feel as if our own being was the only living principle left -existent upon earth. But it brings with it no idea of annihilation. It -seems but the utter exclusion of all mortal things, as if the -animation of clay were over, and the noiseless reign of spirit were -begun. The soul, no longer jostled by the life of flesh, seems to walk -forth at large, and to have freer communication with things as -immaterial as itself. The essence within us feels as if a thick and -misty veil were withdrawn, and things unseen in the dull glare of the -animal day were apparent to the kindred spirit in the hour of -temporary death. But this is only felt when entire silence pervades -all things; when there is no voice of bird or insect, no whispered -breeze, no distant sound of those that watch at night; when all is -still, and, to the ignorance of individual being, it seems that the -one who feels is the only one who lives. Then is the hour of -expectation; for if, according to the old philosophy, nature abhors a -vacuum, the void she most abhors is the absence of all action. The -heart of every living thing is ever asking, "What next?" and the -deepest conviction implanted in the mind of man is, that want of -activity is extinction. Even sleep itself has its sensation and its -dream; and to him who wakes while all the rest are buried in -forgetfulness, there is a constant looking for something assimilating -in solemnity with the hour, and the darkness, and the silence, to -break the unnatural lack of busy life that seems around. Oh! how fancy -then wanders through the wide unoccupied extent, and seeks for -something active like itself, and, debarred all communion with beings -of earth, ventures into the unsubstantial world, and perchance finds a -responding voice to answer her cry for companionship. - -It would seem that there is almost a contradiction in terms under the -philosophy that admits the existence of a world of spirits, and yet -denies that there can be any means of communication between that world -and the spirits still clothed in flesh; but, even in the most -sceptical, there are misdoubtings of their own unbelief; and to every -one who thinks, there come moments when there arise such questions as -these: Where lies the barrier between us and those above us--between -us and those who have gone before? Can we speak across the gulf? Is it -bridged over by any path? Is there a gulf indeed?--or, in this -instance, as in all others through the universal scheme, is the -partition but thin and incomplete that separates us from the order -next above? - -Such are at least questions with all but the most purely worldly even -in a most purely worldly age; but, in the times I write of, doubts on -such subjects were precluded by faith and by tradition. Activity, -indeed, and thought, occupied continually by matters the least -spiritual, banished reflections upon such subjects during the great -part of each man's time. But reflection was needless where conviction -was ever present; and if speculation indulged itself in times of -solitude and silence, it was only in regard to what our relations -could be with the immaterial world, not whether there were any -relations at all. - -Everything was still and motionless as the grave when Ferdinand -descended slowly from his chamber in the castle of Ehrenstein, and -entered the broad corridor which stretched across the great mass of -the building. It was very dark, for no moon was up; and, though the -stars were bright and many in the sky, the light they afforded through -the dim casements was but small. The night was still, too; for no wind -moved the trees; not a cloud crossed the sky; and, as it was colder -than it had been, the insects ceased for a time from their activity, -too early begun, and the song of the minstrel of the night was not -heard. Everyone in the castle itself seemed sound asleep; no doors -creaked on the hinges, no voice of guest or serving-man was heard from -below, the very sentinel was keeping guard still and silently, like -the starry watchers in the sky overhead. - -Ferdinand's heart beat quick, but it was not with the thought of all -the strange and fearful sights he had seen in the place which he was -now about to revisit--though he did think of them; it was not with -that vague mysterious awe inspired by any near approach in mind to -things beyond this world of warm and sunny life. He was going, for the -first time, at night and in darkness, to the chamber of her he loved, -to guide her through strange scenes, alone and unwatched for many an -hour to come, upon an errand of which he knew nothing but that it was -promised a happy end; and his whole frame thrilled with the emotions -so sweet, so joyful, that are only known to early, pure, and ardent -love. - -With the unlighted lamp in his hand, he approached the door, and -quietly raised the latch. All was silent in the little anteroom, but -there was a light burning there, and Bertha sitting sleeping soundly -in a chair, with some woman's work fallen at her feet. Ferdinand did -not wake her; for Adelaide had told him to come when it was needful, -even to her own chamber; and, approaching the door of that room, he -opened it quietly, and went in. Adelaide slept not, for in her heart, -too, were busy emotions that defy slumber. As she saw him, she sprang -to meet him, with all the joy and confidence of love; but yet it was -with a glow in her cheek, and a slight agitated trembling of her -limbs, which she could not overcome, though she knew not why she -shook, for she had no fears--she no longer had any doubts of her own -acts. - -"I am ready, Ferdinand," she whispered, after one dear caress; "let us -go at once--nay, love, let us go." - -He led her silently into the next room, where the lover lighted his -lamp; and the lady gently woke her sleeping maid, and whispered her to -watch for their return. Then onward through the corridor they went, -and down the stairs, till they reached the door of the great hall. - -"Hark!" whispered Adelaide, "did you not hear a sound?" - -"We may hear many, dear one," answered the young gentleman in the same -tone; "aye, and we may see strange and fearful sights too, but we will -not let them daunt us, my beloved. I have trod these paths before, and -they are familiar to me; but to you, love, they are new, and may be -frightful. Look not around, then, dear girl; rest on my arm, keep your -eyes on the ground, and give ear to no sound. I will guide you -safely." - -Thus saying, he opened the hall door carefully, and, with some feeling -of relief, saw that all within was dark and silent. Closing it as soon -as they had passed the threshold, he gazed around, but nothing was to -be seen but the drooping branches with which they had ornamented the -walls, hanging sickly and languid in the first process of decay, and -the flowers with which they had chapleted the columns already withered -and pale. Such are the ambitions and the joys of youth, and thus they -pass away. - -"It is quiet, dear Adelaide," whispered Ferdinand. "May our whole way -be equally so. All evil spirits surely will keep aloof from an angel's -presence." - -"Hush!" she said; "I fear not, Ferdinand, for I feel as if I were -engaged in a high duty, and till it is accomplished I am eager to go -on. I can walk quicker now." - -He led her on at a more rapid pace, unlocked the smaller door at the -other end of the hall, and, keeping her arm in his, entered the dark -and gloomy passage. Adelaide, notwithstanding his caution, looked up -and said, "It is a foul and sad-looking place, Indeed;" but she -neither paused nor slackened her steps, and in a few moments more they -stood at the mouth of the well stairs. - -"Put your hand on my shoulder, dearest," said Ferdinand; "and take -heed to every step; for all are damp and slippery, and many of the -stones decayed. Lean firmly upon me as I go down before you." - -She did as he told her; but as they descended amidst mould and slimy -damp, and heavy air, the whispering voices he had heard again sounded -on the ear, and Adelaide's heart beat, though she resisted terror to -the utmost. "Fear not, dear girl--fear not," he said; "we shall soon -be in the free air of the wood." - -She made no reply, but followed quickly, and at length they reached -the door below. As he pushed it open, a voice seemed to say, "They -come--they come. Hush, hush!" and he led her on into the serfs' -burial-place. - -"There is a light," whispered Adelaide. "Good heavens! there must be -some one here." - -"No one that will slay us," answered her lover. "It will soon be past, -dear girl." As he spoke, however, he raised his eyes, and saw a faint -light gleaming from the heavy column to which the skeleton-was -chained; and as undaunted he advanced, he saw written on the green -stone, as if in characters of flame, the word, "Vengeance!" and as he -gazed, low voices repeated, "Vengeance--vengeance!" - -He felt his fair companion tremble terribly; but now she bent down her -eyes, as he had bidden her, for she feared that her courage would give -way. The next instant, however, she started and paused, for she had -well nigh put her foot upon a skull, the grinning white teeth of -which, and rayless eye-holes, were raised towards her. "Ah, -Ferdinand!" she exclaimed; but he hurried her past, and on towards the -crypt of the chapel. - -"Stay, stay," said Adelaide, as they passed through the low arch which -led thither. "This is very terrible; I feel faint." - -"Yet a few steps farther," answered Ferdinand; "the free air will soon -revive you, and we shall be there in a moment." - -As he spoke, there came suddenly, from the lower chapel vaults before -them, a slow and solemn chant, as if several deep voices were singing -a dirge, and Ferdinand and Adelaide paused and listened while they -sang:-- - - -DIRGE. - - Peace to the dead! They rest - Calm in the silent bed. - They have tasted joy and sorrow; - They have lived and grieved, - Have loved and been blest; - Nor thought of this dark to-morrow. - Peace to the happy dead! - - Peace to the dead! No more - On them shall earth's changes shed - The blight of all joy and pleasure. - Their life is above, - In the haven of love, - And their heart is with its treasure. - Peace to the happy dead! - - -Though it was a sad and solemn air, and though the distinct words were -of as serious a character as the lips of man can pronounce, yet they -seemed rather to revive than to depress the spirits of Adelaide; and -as the music ceased, and the falling sounds died away in the long -aisles, she said, - -"I can go on now, Ferdinand. It is true there is something else to -live for than the life of this earth! and the very feeling that it is -so, and the keeping of that always before one's mind, seem not only to -hallow but to brighten the loves and joys of this being, when we -remember that if they are what they ought to be, they may be -protracted into eternity. I have been weak and cowardly, more than I -thought to be; but I will be so no more. The thought of death makes me -brave." - -Ferdinand was silent, for he felt that his love, if not more mortal, -was at least more human than hers; but he led her on, and now she -gazed around her by the light of the lamp, marking the coffins that -were piled up, and the monuments that were mingled with them,--now and -then commenting, by a word or two, as the faint rays fell first upon -one and then upon another, till at length they reached the door which -gave them exit into the forest, where the free air seemed to revive -her fully. - -"Thank God!" she said, when they once more stood upon the side of the -hill. "How delightful it is to feel the wind upon one's cheek! After -all, this earth is full of pleasant things; and though the -contemplation of death and its presence may be salutary, yet they are -heavy upon the heart from their very solemnity. How shall we ever get -down this steep part of the rock?" - -"Stay," said Ferdinand, who had been shading the light with his cloak; -"I will put the lamp within the door, and leave it burning; we shall -need it when we return. The way is not so steep as it seems, dearest, -and I will help and guide you." - -After securing the light, the young man returned to her side, as she -stood upon the little jutting pinnacle of crag, and aided her down the -descent; nor was the task aught but a very sweet one, for still her -hand rested in his, and often, perhaps without much need, his arm -glided round her waist to support her as she descended, and words of -love that they could now speak, fearless of overhearing ears, were -uttered at every pause upon their way. A gayer and a happier spirit, -too, seemed to come upon the fair girl after they had left the crypt; -sometimes, indeed, strangely mingled with a tone of sadness, but still -full of hope and tenderness. She even somewhat jested with her lover -on his passion, and asked in playful words, if he was sure, very sure, -of his own heart?--if their situations were altogether changed by some -of the strange turns of fate, and she but a poor dowerless maiden, -without station or great name, and he a prince of high degree, whether -his love would be the same?--whether he would still seek her for his -bride as ardently as then? - -I need not, surely, tell how Ferdinand answered her;--I need not say -what professions he made,--or how he once revenged himself for her -assumed doubts of a passion as true as her own. She made him promise a -thousand things too--things that to him seemed strange and wild: that -he would never willingly do aught that might break her heart,--that, -if ever they were married, he would for one month--for one short, -sweet month--do everything that she required. She made him -promise--nay, she made him vow it; and he was inclined to engage -largely for such sweet hopes as she held out; so that had a universe -been at his command, and all the splendours of destiny within his -reach, he would have given all, and more, for the bright vision that -her words called up; and yet he somewhat laughed at her exactions, and -gave his promise as playfully as she seemed to speak. But she would -have it seriously, she said, and made him vow it over and over again. - -Thus went they on, descending the hill, and spending more time by the -way, in truth, than was altogether needful, till they came within -sight of the little chapel in the wood; and there a new mood seemed to -come over Ferdinand's fair companion. She stopped suddenly, and -gazing, by the faint light of the stars, upon the countenance which -memory served to show her more than her eyes, she asked, "And do you -really love me, Ferdinand? and will you ever love me as now?" - -"I do--I will for ever, Adelaide," he answered, drawing her nearer to -him,--"ever, ever!" - -But she, of her own accord, cast her arms around his neck, and leaning -her head upon his shoulder, seemed to him to weep. He pressed her to -his heart, he whispered all those words that he thought might soothe -and reassure her, but still she remained the same, till the door of -the chapel, which was about a hundred yards before them, opened, and -by the light which streamed out, Ferdinand saw the form of Father -George, looking forth as if anxious for their coming. - -"He is looking for us, dearest," he said; "let us go on." - -"I am ready--I am ready," replied Adelaide; and, wiping away what were -certainly drops from her eyes, she followed at once. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - - -"I have been anxious for you, my children," said Father George, as -they entered his little chamber by the side of the chapel. "What, -weeping, Adelaide! Are you not happy? Have you a doubt?" - -"None, none," she answered, holding out her hand to Ferdinand. "I know -not why you sent for us, Father, but I am sure that whatever you -counsel is right, and I feel that my fate is linked to his, as my -heart is to his heart, and his to mine, I do believe; but there are -other tears than sad ones, good Father, and though mine are not sad, -they might well be so, considering all the objects on the path -hither." - -"Say, solemn, rather, my child," answered Father George; "but for the -rest: if you can love and do love, as I believe, there is happiness -before you. Are you prepared, Adelaide, to bind yourself to him you -love by bonds that cannot be broken?" - -She looked down, and the blood mounting into her cheek, then left it -as pale as alabaster; but her lips moved, and in a lone tone, she -said, "I am." - -"And you, Ferdinand," continued the priest, "are you prepared, at all -risks, to wed this fair lady--not with the vehement and ardent fire of -youth, though that I know you feel, but with the steadfast purpose and -desire to make her reasonable happiness, your great end and object of -existence; to seek it by all means, and at all times; to do her right -in every word, and thought, and deed; to be to her what God intended -man to be to woman, her support and strength, her protection and -her comfort, more than a friend, more than a brother, more than a -lover--one with herself in every good wish and purpose? Answer me -thoughtfully, my son, for I take a great responsibility upon me. I -counsel her to give her hand to you against every worldly custom and -all human policy; and if you ever make her regret that deed, the -sorrow and the shame will rest on me." - -"I am ready, Father," answered Ferdinand, "to take her hand as the -best gift that Heaven could give me, on the conditions and in the -terms you say. We are not like many others, Father, we have known each -other from youth's early days, when childhood has no concealments, and -the heart is without disguise. Deep affection and sincere regard have -ripened, on my part at least, into love that never can change, for one -whose heart I know too well to doubt that it can alter either. -Whatever dangers may beset our way--and I see many--there will be none -from changed affection.--But I beseech you play not with my hopes. I -know not much of such things, it is true, but I have heard that there -are difficulties often insuperable in the way of those who, at our age -and in our circumstances, would unite their fate together." - -"There are, my son," answered Father George; "but in your case I have -removed them. Here, under my hand," he continued, laying it as he -spoke upon a roll of parchment on the table, "I have a dispensation -from our Holy Father, the Pope, for your immediate marriage; and for -weighty reasons which I have stated to him by the mouth of his Legate, -he gives me full authority and power to celebrate it whenever occasion -shall serve. No moment could be more favourable than the present--no -moment when it is more needful. Dangers, my son, there may be; but -they are not such as you anticipate; and watchful eyes are upon you to -ward off anything that may menace; but fail not either of you, if you -see the slightest cause for alarm, to give me warning by some means; -and now, my children, come with me; for the night wears, and you must -not be long absent." - -Ferdinand took Adelaide's hand in his, and followed the priest into -the chapel, by the small door, in the side of his little room, which -led almost direct to the altar. He gazed at her fondly as he went, and -joy, the deepest he had ever felt in life, was certainly in his heart; -but there was something in the hour and the circumstances which -softened and solemnized without decreasing that joy. Adelaide turned -but one momentary glance on him, and it was almost sad, yet full of -love. There was anxiety in it--ay, and fear over and above the timid -emotion with which woman must always take that step which decides her -fate for happiness or unhappiness through life. She seemed less -surprised indeed at all that had taken place with the good priest than -her lover. The object for which Father George had sent for them did -not appear so unexpected to her as it did to him. It seemed as if she -had had a presentiment or a knowledge of what was to come; and -Ferdinand now understood the agitation which she had displayed just -before they entered Father George's cell. She went on, however, -without hesitation--ay, and without reluctance, and in a moment after -they stood together before the altar. The candles thereon were already -lighted, and a small gold ring lay upon the book. All seemed prepared -beforehand, but ere Father George commenced the ceremony, he bade -Ferdinand unlock the chapel door and leave it ajar. As soon as the -lover had returned to Adelaide's side, the words which were to bind -them together for weal or woe, through life, began. She answered -firmly, though in a low tone; and when the ring was at length on her -finger, Ferdinand heard, or thought he heard, a voice without murmur, -"It is done!" - -The fair girl marked it not; but, as if overcome by all the emotions -of that hour, stretched out her arms to her young husband, and leaned -upon his breast. She wept not, but she hid her eyes, saying in an -earnest but trembling tone, "Oh, dear Ferdinand, remember, remember -all you have promised." - -"I will, love, I will," he answered. "You are my own, sweet bride; and -I will ever cherish you as the better part of my own life. Shall I now -lead her back, Father?" - -"Nay," said the priest, "there is more yet to be done. The church's -part is over, and the bond irrevocable; but yet the laws of the land -require something more, and every form must be fulfilled. But all is -prepared. Come with me once more, and sign the contract. Then, after a -moment's rest, you may go back--Yes," he added, after some thought and -apparent hesitation, "you had better go back for this night at least. -But I will not trust you to stay there long. You are both too young, -too inexperienced, and too fond, to conceal from the eyes of others -the bond that is between you. Keep yourselves ready, however, and I -will arrange the means for your flight, and a safe asylum." - -"Could we not go at once," asked Ferdinand, as they followed to the -priest's chamber, "to the house of good Franz Creussen? He seems to -know much of my fate, and to love me well." - -"Not to-night, not to-night," answered Father George; "you forget who -may be met on the way thither. Nay, return for this night, and be -cautious where you are. Ere to-morrow you shall hear more; but in the -mean time, in case of need, no arm will be found stronger to aid, no -heart more ready to serve you, than that of good Franz Creussen. You -may trust to him in any case, for he does love you well, and has -proved his love to you and yours, ere now." The contract was signed; -and, when all was complete, the priest opened the door, saying, "Keep -the key I have given you carefully, Ferdinand, it may serve you in -many ways; but to-morrow you shall either see or hear from me. And -now, farewell, my children, God's benison and the holy church's be -upon you!" - -With this blessing they departed; and Adelaide and Ferdinand returned -to the castle more slowly even than they had come thence. It often -happens in life that one emotion drowns another; and although they -could not but know that there were dangers of many kinds before them, -and though the gloomy scenes which they had so lately passed through -still lay on their road back, yet the rapturous joy of the moment, the -knowledge that they were united beyond the power of fate, as they -thought, to sever them, swallowed up apprehension and awe, and left -nought but one of those wild visions of happiness which occasionally -break upon the night of life. - -As on the occasion of Ferdinand's former visit, neither sights nor -sounds that could create alarm awaited them on their return. The -untrimmed lamp stood burning faintly where they had left it, and -passing quickly through the vaults, they soon reached the hall above. -There they lingered for some time, and then extinguishing the light, -found their way through the other passages, and up the stairs; but the -grey eye of morning was faintly opening on the world when the young -husband returned to his own chamber. Casting himself on his bed, he -strove to sleep; but for nearly an hour the wild emotions of his heart -kept him waking, and then for a short time he slept with heavy and -profound slumber. What it was that woke him he knew not, but he raised -himself with a sudden start, and looked round as if some one had -called. He saw that the sun had climbed higher than he had imagined, -and rising, he dressed himself hastily, but with care, then gazed for -a single instant in sweet thought out of the window, and breaking of -his reverie, suddenly turned to the door. He fancied he must be still -dreaming when he found that it would not yield to his hand. He shook -it vehemently, but it did not give way. He strove to burst it open, -but it resisted all his efforts. - -"This is strange, indeed!" he said to himself, with his thoughts all -whirling and confused, in agitation, anger, and apprehension; for -where there is aught to be concealed, fear has always some share in -the sensations which any event unaccounted for produces. After a -moment's thought, however, he calmed himself, and walking to the -casement, looked down upon the wall below. The height was -considerable, and no sentinel was underneath at the moment; but the -measured tread of a heavy foot was heard round the angle of the tower; -and the young gentleman waited calmly till the man paced round, and -came under the spot where he stood. "Ho! Rudolph," he said, "some one, -in sport, I suppose, has locked my door; go in and bid them open it." - -The man obeyed, but returned in a minute or two after with another, -who looked up to the window, saying, as soon as he saw the young -gentleman's face, "It is that young fellow, Martin of Dillberg, Sir, -who has locked it; and he will not give up the keys declaring he has a -charge to make against you when our lord returns, and that he will -keep you there till he does." - -Ferdinand's heart beat a good deal with very mixed sensations, but he -answered instantly,--"Who commands in this castle when the Count and -his knights are away?" - -"Why you, Sir, certainly," answered Rudolph; "but I can't see how we -can help you, as the lock is on your side of the door, and we dare not -venture to lay hands on Count Frederick's man. Can you not contrive to -push back the bolt with your dagger?" - -"I have tried while you were away," answered Ferdinand. "Hie you to -the stable, Rudolph, bring me one of the strong ropes you will find -there, fix it on the end of your lance, and stretch the end up to me. -I will soon teach this Martin of Dillberg who has the gravest charge -to make against the other." - -The two men hastened to obey; and Ferdinand remained at the casement, -anxiously looking for their return. Ere they appeared, however, he -heard their voices speaking apparently to another person; and one of -the soldiers exclaimed aloud,--"Get you gone, Sir! You have no command -here. If you attempt to take hold of it I will break your pate; and if -Master Ferdinand, when he gets out, bids us shut you up for your -pains, we will do it." - -"Rudolph! Herman!" shouted Ferdinand from the window, "make sure of -his person. He is a traitor and a knave!" - -The men did not hear him, but came on, carrying between them a heavy -coil of rope, the end of which was speedily stretched out upon the -point of the lance, to such a height that he could reach it. Then -fastening it rapidly to the iron bar which separated the casement into -two, Ferdinand took the rope between his hands and feet, and slid down -upon the platform. - -"Now follow me, quick," he cried. "Where is this treacherous hound? By -Heaven! I have a mind to cleave his skull for him." - -"He was just now at the steps going down to the court," replied the -man Herman; "but you had better not use him roughly, Sir. Shut him up -till our lord returns." - -"Come on then, come on," cried Ferdinand, still hurrying forward; "we -shall lose our hold of him. He dare not stay and face me." - -It was as he thought, for by the time he reached the court, Martin of -Dillberg was mounted and passing the drawbridge. A sneering smile of -triumph and malice curled his lip as Ferdinand advanced under the -arch, and turning his horse for an instant, he exclaimed, "I go to -give news of you to your friends, good Sir. Pray where were you at -midnight? You, my good men, if you will follow my advice, will keep -that youth within the castle walls, for he is a traitor to his lord -and yours, as I will prove upon him at my return." - -Thus saying, he wheeled his horse and spurred away; and Ferdinand, -with as light a look as he could assume, turned back into the castle. -The two men paused for a minute to converse together, and Ferdinand, -hurrying on, passed twice through the corridor with a heavy step, in -the hope that Bertha might hear him and come forth. She did not -appear, however, and then going out to the battlements, he passed by -the window where she usually sat and worked. She was there, and alone, -and making a sign towards the corridor, he returned thither without -delay. In a few minutes the gay girl joined him, but she instantly saw -from his look that something had gone amiss, and her warm cheek turned -somewhat pale in anticipation of his tidings. - -"Hie you to Father George with all speed, Bertha," said Ferdinand; -"tell him that I fear that young hound, Martin of Dillberg, has -tracked me and your lady to the chapel last night, or else saw me come -forth from her chamber. Bid him hasten to help us, or we are lost, for -the young villain is gone to bear the news to the Count. Hark!--there -are trumpets!" and springing to the window, he looked out. - -"The Count, upon my life!" he exclaimed. "Away, Bertha, away!" - -"But I shall meet them!" exclaimed the girl, wildly; "and I shake so, -I am ready to drop." - -"Here, take this key," cried Ferdinand; "it opens the small door out -of the great hall; then straight on along the passage, down the well -stairs, and through the vaults--straight as you can go. You cannot -miss your way. If you would save me, your lady, and yourself, you must -shake off all idle terrors. You have now full daylight, and it streams -into the vaults as clear as it does here. Leave the door unlocked -behind you." - -"I will go," said Bertha, "if all the ghosts in the church-yard were -there. But I must first warn my lady;" and away she sped. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - - -With blast of trumpet, and an air of triumph, the small force of the -Count of Ehrenstein marched up towards the gates of the castle. Each -individual soldier, long deprived of the means of winning any renown -in those "piping times of peace," felt an individual pride in having -fought and conquered; though, to say sooth, the two knights, and older -warriors were not very well contented that so small and inglorious a -part of the short siege of Eppenfeld had fallen to their share. The -youths might boast, they thought, and plume themselves upon so poor an -exploit, and some little honour might attach to those who had taken a -share in the first operations; but the days had been when the men of -Ehrenstein would not have remained inactive, watching to catch the -runaways, while the retainers of a friendly prince assailed the castle -itself, and underwent all the danger and fatigue of the assault. The -Count was brave and politic, they admitted, and policy has always -something in it which commands a sort of mysterious respect. We admire -what is successful, though we do not understand the principles upon -which success has been achieved; but yet, until discipline has -reached a high pitch, we do not conceive that there can be as much -glory in performing well a passive part, as in taking a share in -operations where peril and energetic action are the means of victory. -Thus many of the best soldiers in the Count's band were somewhat -discontented, and inclined to grumble, while he himself rode on in -silence, communicating to no one his feelings in regard to the result -of their undertaking, or to the plan upon which the enterprise had -been conducted. He had prisoners and treasure with him; and that, old -Seckendorf thought, would be enough to satisfy the Count; but the good -ritter himself was dissatisfied that he had not an opportunity of -striking a strong stroke, and longed for a more energetic and less -politic leader, although he owned that but little was to be done in -those days of art and negotiation, compared with the times when he -himself was young, and the sword decided all. - -Very different is the operation of every passion upon the individual -on whom it acts. As the relative forces of agent and object always -modify the effect of every cause, the character of the person who -feels changes entirely the result of the emotions which act upon him. -Some men are elated by success; some almost depressed in spirit. With -some men the heart seems to expand under the sunshine of fair fortune, -with some to contract; as particular flowers open in the shade, while -others spread their breasts abroad to the bright day. The Count of -Ehrenstein was one on whom the light seemed to have no enlarging -influence; and while his men, especially the younger, laughed and -talked, he rode on from Eppenfeld towards his own stronghold, in -gloomy silence and deep thought. Hardly one word proffered he to any -one by the way, and ever and anon he looked back to the body of -prisoners with the Baron at their head, who followed, strongly -guarded, in the rear of his troop. Then, and only then, what may be -called a feeble look came over his countenance--a look of doubt and -hesitation, as if he were trying some question with his own heart, -which he found it difficult to solve. - -At a short distance from the castle he was met by Martin of Dillberg, -who stopped and spoke to him for a few minutes in a low voice. Those -who were near saw an expression of sudden anger spread over the face -of their lord; his pale cheek flushed, his brow grew black as night, -his hands grasped the reins tight, and he replied in quick and hurried -tones. But after a time the young man rode on towards Eppenfeld, and -the troop, which had halted, recommenced its march. The fierce look of -the Count, however, speedily passed away; he turned his eyes again to -the Baron, and once more fell into gloomy thought. - -At the end of about half an hour, the cavalcade approached the gates -of Ehrenstein, and the Count passed over the drawbridge, and under the -arch of the gateway, where Ferdinand of Altenburg stood, with some of -the soldiery, to receive him. If, as I have said, the operations of -passions are very different upon different individuals, the fact was -never more strikingly displayed than in the case of Ferdinand. He knew -that a moment of great peril had arrived, he felt that the purchase of -a few hours of joy might now have to be paid in his blood; he feared -also for her he loved more than for himself; but the emotions of such -a situation called forth in his mind powers of which he had been -ignorant: and although at first he had been agitated and almost -bewildered, he now stood calm and collected, marking well the heavy -frown upon the Count's brow, and a look of sudden fierceness that came -into his face when their eyes first met, but prepared for whatever -might follow and ready to endure it firmly. - -The Count of Ehrenstein dismounted slowly, and, without addressing a -word to his young follower, called Seckendorf and Mosbach to him, -giving them directions for lodging the prisoners securely, and -especially for placing the Baron of Eppenfeld in a chamber apart, in -one of the high towers. He then spoke a word or two in a low tone to -Karl von Mosbach, which seemed somewhat to surprise him; but the Count -repeated aloud and emphatically, "Not for one moment! You will soon -know the reason." Then turning to Ferdinand he said, "Has all gone -quietly in the castle?" - -"No, my good lord," replied the young gentleman, boldly. "That youth, -Martin of Dillberg, who came hither with Count Frederick, dared to -lock me in my chamber, and has since fled on horseback. I should have -pursued him and brought him back, but I had no horses saddled." - -"He will come back very soon," said the Count, in a marked tone. - -"I doubt it, my good lord," answered Ferdinand; "he knows that I have -a charge to bring against him which may cost his life; and which, if I -had been permitted to join you before Eppenfeld, I should have made -ere now." - -"Indeed," said the Count musing; "it may be so." - -"Nay, noble Sir, it is," replied the young gentleman, thinking the -Count's words were an answer to what he had said, rather than to what -was passing in his own mind; "I am ready to state the whole now, if -you have time; for as I see the Baron of Eppenfeld is a prisoner in -your hands, you have the means of testing the truth at once." - -"Not now," rejoined the Count; "not now,--I have other matters to -think of. I will hear you in an hour." - -As he spoke, the Baron was led past, and the Lord of Ehrenstein -immediately followed. Ferdinand remained musing in the court, not -daring to seek any means of communicating with his young bride, and -doubtful what course to follow. - -As he thus stood, Seckendorf came up, and drawing him aside, demanded, -"What is this, Ferdinand? Mosbach, tells me he has orders not to suffer -you to pass the gates, or to take a step beyond the walls, the little -hall, or the tower in which you sleep. What have you been doing, you -graceless young dog? Is your affair with Bertha come to light?" - -Ferdinand saw that his apprehensions were but too just, but he replied -calmly, "I know not what our lord suspects, Seckendorf: he mentioned -no charge against me to myself; but doubtless, whatever it is, it -springs from the malice of Martin of Dillberg, who is right well aware -that when this affair of the plunder of the Italian merchants is -inquired into, his treason to his lord will be apparent." - -"Ay, ay; is it so?" cried Seckendorf. "I saw him stop the Count and -speak with him just now. What! I suppose he has been dealing with the -Baron, and was to have shared the booty?" - -"Something like it, I believe," answered Ferdinand; "but as the Baron -is here, he can prove the truth of what he told me." - -"So then the tale came from him," said Seckendorf; "I fear it is not -to be trusted." - -"It was spoken in the presence of many of his people and of some of -ours," answered Ferdinand. "However, it is my duty to repeat what he -told me; and if he has not had some communication with Martin of -Dillberg, I see not how his tongue could be so glibe with his name, as -the youth has but lately returned with Count Frederick from the East." - -"Right, right," answered Seckendorf; "thou art as shrewd as a -blood-hound, Ferdinand. Doubtless the lad is afraid of thy tale, and -has brought some charge against thee to cover his own treachery." - -"It may be so,--it may not," answered Ferdinand. "However, Mosbach -must obey our lord's behest, so I will even take myself to the -battlements, which are within the limits you have mentioned." - -Thus saying, he turned away, and walked up to the wall, gazing -anxiously towards Father George's cell, yet taking care to pace up and -down with as unconcerned an air as possible, that no eye watching him -from the main building or its manifold towers might see the anxious -expectation of his heart, or judge in what direction his thoughts -turned. It were vain to deny that he revolved, with eager rapid -emotions, all the circumstances of his fate, and strove to discover -some cause of hope; some clue to escape from the dangers that menaced -him on every side. At one time it seemed impossible that anything but -the most fatal result could ensue. He knew the Count too well to think -that he would be merciful--he knew the customs, if not the laws, of -the land too well, not to feel certain that his death would be deemed -only a reasonable atonement for the deed he had ventured to do. But -then, again, he asked himself, would the good priest who had been as a -father to him from his infancy, sanction, counsel, aid him in an -enterprise so perilous to all concerned in it, unless he had the most -positive assurance that he could guide the course he had pointed out -to a happy termination, and shield those from peril who, in following -the dictates of their own inclination, had also followed his advice -and exhortation. But still apprehension predominated; and though, at -each turn he took, his eyes were directed to the little chapel in the -wood, his hopes were destined to be disappointed. The door of the -priest's cell he could not see, but he caught several glimpses of the -road, and the second time he reached the point where he had the best -view, he saw a female figure--which he instantly concluded to be that -of Bertha--approach the chapel, and disappear behind the angle of the -building. It scarcely was obscured a moment ere it reappeared again, -and then was lost in the wood, "She has not found him," said Ferdinand -to himself; "he is absent--was ever anything so unfortunate?" and he -turned again upon the battlements lost in thought. - -In the mean while, the Count of Ehrenstein had followed close upon the -steps of those who led the Baron of Eppenfeld to the place of his -imprisonment; and the door was not yet fully bolted and barred when he -caused it to be opened again, and entered, directing the three -soldiers who had conveyed the captive thither to wait at the foot of -the stairs till he came out. Then, closing the door behind him, he -confronted the prisoner with a stern brow, and teeth close shut. The -Baron gave him back look for look; and a smile, slight but sarcastic, -curled his lip. - -"Well, Baron of Eppenfeld," said the Count; and then paused. - -"Well, Count of Ehrenstein," replied the Baron; and he also stopped in -the midst, for the other to go on. - -"You sent me a message, last night," said the Count; "and you were -fool enough, in your drunken sleepiness, not to take advantage of the -opportunity given you, and to suffer the hot-headed Count of Leiningen -to blow your gates open, when you might have escaped two hours -before." - -"Very unlucky for you, Count," replied the Baron of Eppenfeld, in a -tone of provoking coolness. "You should have sent me some answer to my -message, and then I should have known how to act." - -"I could not; I had no time; I had no opportunity," answered the Count -of Ehrenstein. "All I could do, after I received that message, was to -withdraw my men to the east, and leave you room to escape with all -your treasure." - -"But why answered you not the first," asked the Baron; "the message -that I sent you by young Ferdinand of Altenburg?--I thought better of -it after a time, it is true, and judged that a short repose in -Eppenfeld would do him good; but when he got out, he must have told -you what I said, which was just the same thing; and instead of a -friendly reply or friendly comment, your first act was to march -against me." - -"And you told Ferdinand of Altenburg?" said the Count, with a moody -look. "Pray, what was it you told him?" - -"The same, as near as may be," answered the Baron, "that I told the -other." - -"The other is dead," replied the Count; "and Ferdinand of Altenburg is -in peril. You shall judge, by the way in which I treat him, how I deal -with those who possess perilous secrets." - -Thus saying, he opened the door, called one of the soldiers from the -bottom of the stairs, and, when he reached the room, bade him hasten -to Karl von Mosbach, and direct him to arrest Ferdinand of Altenburg, -and place him in confinement in the dark cell below the lesser hall. -"Now, Baron," he said, as soon as the man was gone, "What think you, -now?" - -"That you are a hard-hearted villain," answered the Baron, "and ten -times worse than myself, bad as men call me. The youth served you well -and boldly; he risked his life, I can tell you, to do your bidding, -and this is the way you repay him. But I don't believe it; you will -not injure him for any words he has heard from me." - -"If I live till noon to-morrow," answered the Count, in a cold, -deliberate tone, "he shall lose his head by the axe, upon those -battlements." - -"Then, there will be rare chopping," answered the Baron, with a laugh; -"for eight or nine of your men heard the message I sent--the words -were addressed to him, but they were spoken in the hearing of many." - -"This is no jesting matter, Baron," said the Count; "let me tell you -that your own life or death is the question. I shall give this youth -time to prepare, for he is my own sworn follower, and no one can see -or tamper with him. But your case is different; and all the time I can -allow you is one hour, for the questions between us must be despatched -before the return of those who are now destroying the wolf's den." - -Even this stern announcement seemed to have but a small effect upon -the captive. "All which that shows," he answered, with a shrug of the -shoulders, "is, that you take little time to deliberate upon murdering -a prisoner. You cannot frighten me, Count of Ehrenstein! I have -confronted death many a time a month, during twenty years or more; and -if in all this talking you have some object in view, you had better -speak it plainly at once, and not strive to reach it by threats." - -"Should I not be a fool to trust you living," asked the Count, "when -you can use such threats to me?" - -"Oh, dear! no," answered his prisoner; "whatever I have done, I have -never broken an oath in my life; and I am quite ready to relieve you -from all fears, upon certain conditions." - -"Ha!" said the Count, "what may they be?" - -"First, that you will give me the means of escape," answered the -Baron. - -"At the present moment that is impossible," replied the Count; "but -to-night it may be done. What more?" - -"Secondly, I must have some small sum of gold to get me together a -band in some distant country. If I were to go wandering about here -without my stone walls around me, I should soon be caught, and I have -no mind to find myself embroiled with the Imperial Court. I will be -content with a small amount; and the third condition is, that you deal -not harshly with that youth Ferdinand. On my life! I believe he -neither knows nor suspects anything from what I said. He seemed not to -heed it, as if he thought you to be too honest a man to do aught that -was wrong. He paid much more attention to what I said concerning Count -Frederick, and Martin of Dillberg--he marked that right well." - -"Ay, and what was that?" asked the Count. - -"Why, I told him how that same Martin came to me, and, upon promise of -a share of the booty, warned me of the passage of those Italian -merchants. Faith! they came sooner than he expected; for he said, some -three weeks hence. But I kept a sharp watch, for fear of accidents, -and an unlucky watch it has turned out: for Count Frederick has got -all the money, and the castle to boot." - -The Count mused for a few moments, with his arms crossed upon his -chest, and then replied, "Well, we shall see. Leave the youth to me; I -promise that he shall suffer nothing on your account. The money you -shall have, and freedom too, if you can give me such a pledge as I can -depend upon." - -"I can give you nought else than my oath, Sir Count," answered the -Baron, stoutly, "You have taken all else from me. The pig has nothing -but the pig's skin." - -"Well, you shall swear," answered the other; "but yet I would fain -have some other bond than air." - -"Give me your dagger," said the Baron. "I will swear on the cross -thereof." - -But the Count of Ehrenstein was too wary to trust a weapon in the hand -of a foe. "No," he said, "I will have you swear on a holy relic I have -in the chapel, and by the mass.--But you can write, I think?" - -"I can make something which they tell me is my name," answered the -Baron of Eppenfeld, who, like an eager chapman, grew in impatience to -possess the object of his desire, as he who could grant it seemed to -hesitate. - -"Well then, you shall sign a paper stating that all the aspersions of -my name which, in the heat of passion, you uttered to my retainer, -Ferdinand of Altenburg, are false and groundless," said the Count; -"that will satisfy me." - -"How shall I know what the paper is?" asked the Baron; but immediately -afterwards he added, "Well, well, it matters not. You swear that I -shall have my liberty, and I will sign." - -"I swear it," answered the Count, kissing the cross of his dagger. -"Wait, and I will write the paper, which shall be read to you word by -word." - -"I must needs wait when I cannot get away," replied the prisoner; and -when the Count had quitted the chamber, he murmured, "Accursed dog! I -will be a match for thee still." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - - -THE Count of Ehrenstein retired to his chamber to write, passing the -soldiers, whom he had directed to wait at the bottom of the stairs, -without speaking to them: he did not signify to them that they might -retire; he did not tell them to take food or wine to the captive, -though the journey of the morning had been long and fatiguing, and -none of the party had broken bread since they marched from Eppenfeld. -But the good lord was a keen calculator, and he judged that the men -would watch better, the Baron prove more tractable, fasting than well -fed. He remained some time alone, writing and destroying what he had -written--for he was as difficult to please in his composition as a -young lover in his first letter to his mistress. Now he thought that -the terms he used were too plain and condemnatory of the Baron's own -conduct for him to sign them readily; now they were not fully -satisfactory to himself; and he strove so to express himself that the -words might imply more than they actually stated in his own favour. At -length, however, the work was completed, and calling some one from -without, he bade him seek Count Frederick's chaplain, for he was -anxious to give the whole proceeding an air of candour and -straightforwardness which it did not, in truth, possess. - -When the good priest appeared, he said, with an air which, for him who -assumed it, was unusually free and unembarrassed, "I wish you, good -Father, to carry this paper to the Baron of Eppenfeld, whom you will -find confined above, where one of my men will lead you, and to read to -him the contents. It seems that to my good follower, Ferdinand of -Altenburg, he used foul and calumnious expressions regarding me; and -that now, being sorry for having done so, he would fain retract them -and make amends. I have put down nearly his own words. If he will sign -them, well; if not, do not press him. Pray let him see that I am -indifferent to his exculpation or his charges, and hold as little -communication with him as possible till my noble friend Count -Frederick's return, as I am anxious that aught we may have to say to -this notorious culprit should be said by mutual understanding and -consent." - -The priest took the paper, and promised to observe the directions to -the letter; and, after having given him a conductor to the Baron's -prison, the Count paced up and down his chamber in gloomy expectation. -It seemed to him that his envoy was long; he would fain have gone to -listen to what passed between him and the captive; but he did not -dare; and at length he cast himself down upon a seat, and taking a -book from the shelf, affected to read. Scarcely had he done so, when -the chaplain returned; and, though the Count's keen eye fixed upon him -with an eager and inquiring glance, it could discover nothing in his -countenance but the air of a good honest man who had just transacted a -piece of ordinary business. - -"There is the paper signed, noble Count," he said; "the poor man -expresses himself all hungered, and asks for meat and drink." - -"Did he make any difficulty as to signing this?" asked the Count; -adding, "I hope you pressed him not." - -"There was no need, my son," answered the priest, "he signed it at -once, and seemed wondrous meek considering all we have heard of him. -All he complained of was thirst and hunger; and, good sooth, he should -have food, seeing that he says he has not tasted aught since late last -night, and it is three of the clock even now." - -"Three!" exclaimed the Count; "is it three? How the time flies!" - -"Hasting on towards eternity," replied the priest; "it is well to -think of such things." - -"It is," answered the Lord of Ehrenstein; "he shall have food. Thanks, -Father, for your pains; the poor man shall have food:--I had forgot -how rapidly time speeds away from us;--thanks." - -As soon as the chaplain was gone, he read the paper over again, and -marked well the scrawl which testified the Baron of Eppenfeld's -concurrence in the truth of its contents; and then he somewhat -regretted that he had not made them stronger in expression, -considering the facility with which it had been signed. But after -having carefully locked it in a casket, he turned his thoughts to -other subjects, only second in importance to that which had just been -discussed and settled. - -"Now, then, for this strange tale," he said; "I cannot believe it -true. He would not dare;--and yet the youth spoke boldly. It may be -malice after all: I never saw aught but such reverence as might become -one in his station to the daughter of his lord; nor, on her part, -aught but kindness--gentle, yet not familiar--such as she shows to -all. And yet it is strange she has not come forth to greet her father -on his return. She never failed before. Oh, if it be so, my vengeance -shall be long remembered in the land;--but no, it is impossible! I -will never believe it. This Martin of Dillberg is a proved traitor: -the Baron's words condemn him; and he has known that Ferdinand would -bring him to the question, and with the common art of half-fledged -villany, has taken the poor vantage ground of the first charge. But it -must be inquired into--must be refuted. I will call the youth before -me:--nay, I will see her first.--But I will not tax her with it: such -accusations often plant in the mind the first seeds of deeds to come. -I have known many a guiltless heart made guilty by being once -suspected." - -With these thoughts--for it is wonderful how often the same reflexions -present themselves to the pure and to the corrupt, only their effects -upon action are different--he went forth into the corridor, and opened -the door of his daughter's apartments. In the ante-chamber the girl -Theresa was sitting alone at her embroidery, and the Count asked, -"Where is your mistress? How is it she has not been to greet her -father on his return?" - -"I know not, my good lord," replied the girl, apparently embarrassed -by a certain degree of sternness in his tone. "I believe my lady -sleeps; I heard her say she had rested ill last night." - -"Go call her," said the Count. "Sleeps at midday! she must be ill. We -must have some physician." - -The maid did not venture to reply, but went in at once to the lady's -chamber; and the moment after Adelaide herself came forth. Her fair -face was as pale as death, but yet her air was firm, and she seemed to -the eye but little agitated. Her step was slow, however, and showed -none of the buoyant joys with which, in former times, she sprang to -meet her father. - -"How now, my child?" said the Count, as soon as he saw her; "what! -sleeping at this time of day? You must be ill, Adelaide." - -"I slept not, father," she answered at once; "I never sleep by day." - -"Then why came you not, as usual, to meet me?" asked the Count. "In -what important task have you been busy that you could not give a -moment to greet your father on his return from strife?" - -"In prayer," she answered, simply. - -"In prayer!" he repeated;--"why in prayer at this hour to-day?" - -"At this hour and day in every year I am in prayer," she answered; -"for it is the hour and day my mother left me." - -A deep shade fell upon her father's face: "True--I forgot," he said; -"the busy occupation of the last few hours has driven from my mind -things I am wont to remember: but now sit down beside me, my dear -child. This foolish girl, Theresa, says you rested ill." - -"She says true," answered Adelaide, taking the place to which her -father pointed; "I slept but little." - -"And where did you ramble in your waking thoughts?" asked the Count. - -"Far and wide," was her reply; but as she answered, she bent down her -head, the colour rose into her cheek, and there was a confession in -her whole air which made her father's heart beat quick and fiercely. -Nearly in vain he strove to master himself, and in a hurried, yet -bitter tone, he said: "Perchance, as far as the chapel in the wood." -His daughter remained silent. "And not without a companion," he added. -"Base, wretched girl, what have you done? Is this your maiden -modesty?--is this your purity and innocence of heart?--are these the -lessons that your mother taught you?" - -Suddenly Adelaide raised her head, and though with a crimson cheek and -brow, she answered, "Yes! Nothing, my lord,--neither deep, true love, -nor human persuasion, nor girl-like folly, nor one idle dream of -fancy--would have made me do what I have done, had I not been sure -that duty--ay, duty even to you, required me to forget all other -things, the fears of my weak nature, the habits of my station, all the -regards of which I have been ever careful,--my very name and fame, if -it must be so, and do as I have done." - -"Duty to me!" exclaimed the Count, vehemently. "I thought you wise as -well as good. You are a fool, weak girl, and have suffered a -treacherous knave to impose upon you by some idle tale:--but he shall -dearly rue it. Time for prayer and shrift is all that he shall have -'twixt now and eternity." - -"He is my husband," answered Adelaide; "and--" - -"Go, make your widow's weeds then," cried her father; "for no husband -will you have after to-morrow's dawn." - -"Yet, listen," she said, in an imploring tone; "condemn not before you -have heard. He is guiltless of having deceived me, if I have been -deceived: he told me no false tale, for all he said was that he loved -me--and that he does; he pleaded no excuse of duty--" - -"Who, then?" demanded her father; "who then, I say? Ah! I can guess -right well; that false priest, who has always been the bitterest enemy -of me and mine. Is it so, girl?--Answer, is it so?" - -"If you mean Father George," replied Adelaide, slowly, "you are right. -He bade me tell you the fact, if it became absolutely necessary to do -so; but oh, my father! you do him wrong. He is not an enemy to you and -yours--far, very far--" - -"Out upon you, wretched girl!" exclaimed the Count, growing more and -more furious every moment. "I know him but too well; and for what he -has done I will have bitter retribution. I will lay his abbey in -smoking ruins for his sake; but first he shall see the results of his -dark intrigues on those he has attempted to force into high stations. -He shall see the blood of his beggar brother's child stain the axe, as -he has well deserved--ay, and he shall have notice that if he would -ever see his face again it must be ere to-morrow. He may come to -shrive him for the block, if he will; but I swear, by all I hold holy! -that daring traitor shall never see another sun set than that which -has this day arisen." - -"Hold, hold, my father!" cried Adelaide; "first, for your daughter's -sake; for, did you do the act you threaten, the blow must fall on her, -not him alone. Be sure that she would not survive him long. Nay, look -not scornful, for it is too true; but, if not for her sake, for your -own, pause but three days, both to give your better spirit time to -act, and to allow yourself to judge with better knowledge. Oh, pause, -my father! Bring not on your head the weight of such a crime; think -what men will say of you--think how the eye of God will judge -you--think what torture your own heart will inflict--how memory will -ever show the spirit of the dead reproaching you, and calling you to -judgment--think what it will seem in your own eyes, when passion has -passed away, to know that you have murdered in your own stronghold -your daughter's husband, and, with the same blow, your own child too." - -"Adelaide," said the Count, in a tone less vehement, but more stern, -"what I have sworn, I will do. You have chosen your own course, the -consequences be on your own head. It is you who slay him, not I; but -murder!--no, there shall be no murder. He shall be judged as he -deserves, this very night. We have laws and customs amongst us which -will touch his case--ay, and your own too, were it needful, but that I -am tender of you. However, keep your pleadings for yourself, for you -yet may have need of them. As to him, his fate is sealed." - -"Be his and mine together," answered Adelaide, raising her head, and -gazing at her father mildly but firmly. "Let the same judgment pass on -me as on him. Spare not your own child, when she is as guilty, if -there be guilt, as he is. With him did I hope to live; with him I am -content to die. You cannot, and you shall not, separate us." - -"Girl, you will drive me mad!" exclaimed the Count. "Cannot separate -you! You shall soon see that. Never shall your eyes behold him again. -He dies at dawn to-morrow; and, in the mean time, hence to your -chamber. There, as a prisoner, shall you remain till all is over. What -further punishment I may inflict, you shall know in time; but think -not to escape. Doubtless these women are sharers in your crime, or, at -least, aiders of your disobedience;" and he turned a fierce glance on -the girl Theresa, who stood pale and trembling near the door. - -"Oh no, noble lord!" she exclaimed, casting herself at his knees; "I -never dreamt of such a thing--the lady knows right well." - -"It shall be inquired into," said the Count. "Hence to your chamber, -disobedient child; and I will put you under safer guard than this. But -delude yourself with no false hopes; you have seen the last of him -whom you call husband, for I will grant him not another hour beyond -the rise of sun to-morrow. Hark! there are Count Frederick's -trumpets--that suits well. He shall be judged at once. Away, I say! -Why linger you? To your chamber--to your chamber; but I will see that -it is secure." - -With a slow step Adelaide entered her own room, followed by her -father. There was before her a little desk for prayer, an open book, a -cross, and the picture of a lady very like herself, and, kneeling -down, she bent her head upon the book,--it might be to weep, it might -be to pray. - -The Count's eye rested for an instant on the portrait, and then on his -child. His cheek grew very pale, and, with a hasty glance around the -room, he retired, securing the door behind him. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - - -Ferdinand of Altenburg would have given much for a good horse, a few -words in Adelaide's ear, and a free passage over the drawbridge. They -were the only three wishes he would have formed, at that moment, if -any good fairy would have granted them, but none of those benignant -beings came to his help, and he saw that he must abide his fate, -whatever it might be. For a time he bent down his eyes in deep -despondency, after seeing what he conceived to be Bertha's figure turn -away from the chapel in the wood; but then, again, he gazed round him, -with an anxious glance, looking to the east and to the west, as if in -the vague hope of some help appearing. - -The hills which stretched in a wavy line from the old ruined castle -opposite, beyond the abbey in the valley, till they fell in with the -mountains that formed the basin of the Rhine, were clothed, as we have -seen, with wood; but yet every here and there the forest trees would -break away, and leave a patch of meadow or cultivated ground; and in -various other places the different roads that cut direct over the -summits of the hills, left a small spot vacant of trees, like the -entrance of a garden between two walls. Suddenly, at the point where -the road leading towards Eppenfeld crossed the higher ground, the eye -of the young gentleman saw something pass rapidly across, as if a band -of spearmen were proceeding at a quick pace along the road above. The -distance was more than two miles, and he could not be certain that he -was right in his conjecture; but at somewhat less than half a mile -distant from the spot where he had seen this passing object, and -nearer to the castle, a patch of vines, nestling into the bosom of the -sheltering wood, exposed the higher road again, and Ferdinand stopped -in his walk upon the battlements, and gazed for several minutes till -once more the head of a long line of horsemen appeared, with banners -and lances, and glittering arms, which caught and reflected a stray -gleam of sunshine, that poured through the clouds gathering overhead. - -"It is Count Frederick," said the young gentleman to himself. "I am -glad of that, for he is kind and noble, and if this charge, whatever -it may be, rests alone upon the testimony of Martin of Dillberg, I may -shake that if I have a fair hearing." - -It is true, that when Ferdinand said, in speaking of the charge, -"whatever it may be," a voice from within told him quite plainly what -that charge really was; but ere the last horseman of the train had -passed across the aperture, he heard the sound of footfalls at the -other end of the battlement, and turning in that direction, perceived -old Karl von Mosbach and two of the soldiers advancing towards him. -Now the character of Mosbach, though there was a general resemblance -between all the old ritters of his day, differed considerably from -that of Seckendorf. He was less frank and free, and though, perhaps, -not so full of the active marauding spirit of his companion, was of a -more suspicious and less generous nature. Neither had he ever shown -that sort of warm and paternal friendliness for Ferdinand of Altenburg -which the other old knight had always displayed towards the youth whom -he had seen grow up from boyhood. These circumstances, and a knowledge -of the task of watching him, which the Count had assigned to Karl von -Mosbach, did not render his approach particularly agreeable to -Ferdinand, and the first word of the old knight showed that his errand -was as unpleasant as it well could be. - -"Come, Master Ferdinand," he said, "you must end your walk. I have the -Count's orders to arrest you, and put you in the cell under the little -hall." - -"What for, Mosbach," asked Ferdinand, anxious to obtain any precise -information that he could get. - -"Nay, that is no business of mine," replied the old ritter, "you will -soon hear from the Count himself, I dare say. My business is to obey -his orders, so come along." - -Ferdinand felt no disposition to resist, where he knew that resistance -would be in vain, and therefore, without further comment, he walked -slowly on with Mosbach, followed by the two soldiers, and fearing that -the next moment his arms might be taken from him. The old soldier, -however, did not seem to think of such a precaution, but contented -himself with leading him to the cell, shutting him in, and barring -and bolting the door. Ferdinand was now left, if not in utter -darkness--for there was one small loophole high up, which afforded -air and a slight glimmering of light to the interior--at least in such -a degree of obscurity, that for several minutes he could see none of -the objects around, and though with his arms crossed upon his chest, -and his teeth hard set, he strove vigorously to bear his fate with -firmness, if not tranquillity, the gloom of the place seemed to sink -into his heart, and overcome for the time all the strongly resisting -powers of youth. There was something in his present situation which -depressed him much more than the imprisonment he had so lately -undergone at Eppenfeld. There he knew right well, indeed, that a few -hours might terminate his existence, and now the worst that could -befall him was the same fate; but the difference was in the causes -which might lead to such an end. At Eppenfeld, he knew that if he -died, he died without reproach, in the bold execution of a duty; now, -if he fell, it was under a grave and heavy charge, from which, -notwithstanding all the assurances he had received from the priest, he -could not wholly exculpate himself even to his own heart. He felt that -passion had lent too ready an aid to the promises of others, and -although he had every confidence in the truth and honesty of him with -whom his early years had been spent, yet he could hardly bring himself -to believe that Father George had not both deluded and been deluded -himself. - -As he thus stood and mused, the sound of trumpets was borne from -without through the little loophole above, and a momentary gleam of -hope, he knew not why, came to cheer his heart. But the sounds of the -trumpet soon ceased, the trampling of horses was heard as they crossed -the drawbridge, and then many voices in the court-yard, first laughing -and talking loud, then growing fewer and fainter, till at length they -ceased; and no other sounds arose but the occasional call of one -servant to another, or the heavy tramp of a soldier's foot, as he -crossed the courts, or threaded the passages. Hope and expectation -died away again, and the captive sat himself down to meditate bitterly -over the passing away of all those bright dreams we have so lately -seen him indulging. Where was the joy of the night before? Where was -the sunshiny aspect of life that love, and youth, and imagination -afforded? Where was the glowing future, with its hopes and its -ambitions--ambitions, the fiery strength of which was all softened and -sweetened by tenderness and love? Where was the ecstasy of gratified -affection? Where all the splendid pageantry with which fancy decorates -the gratification of every desire to the eager early heart? All, all -had passed away--the bubble had burst, the vision had faded, and -nothing was left but dark despondency, akin to despair. He could have -wept, but then the stubborn heart of man, the touch of the sin which -hurled the powers from on high, the pride of hardy resistance, came to -his support, and he refrained, closing up the sources of his tears, -and strengthening himself in the hardness of resolute endurance. - -"No," he thought,--"I will give up such weak regrets; I will think no -more of things that only unman me; I will consider how I may best meet -this charge--what I am to do, what I am to say; and I can say much in -my defence. Who could resist such love as I have felt for her? Who -could help feeling that love who was with her as I have been? Then, -again, Father George, the guardian of my youth, whose counsel and -directions I have ever been taught to follow, he directed, he guided, -he counselled me to act as I have acted, even when I myself hesitated -and doubted. He authorized me, too, to lay the deed on him, and -promised to come forward and support it. The Count may indeed condemn -me, may put me to death, but still I shall die without a stain." - -The more he thus reasoned, however, the more Ferdinand felt that his -own case was a perilous one, that although some excuse might be found -for what he had done in the extenuating circumstances over which he -pondered, yet that excuse would be but little available to save him -from destruction. He knew the Count too well, not to be sure that some -victim he would have to assuage his wrath, and that, as against Father -George his hand would be powerless, protected as the priest would be -sure to be by the arm of the church, the whole weight of his -indignation would fall upon him. Thus he thought for some time; but -yet, though his considerations were eager and full of interest, they -were not sufficient to make the passing of the time seem quick. Hour -by hour went by, various sounds succeeded each other in the castle, -each marking some particular epoch in the passing of the day, to the -ear of one who, like Ferdinand of Altenburg, knew well the stated -periods of the daily life within; every moment he expected to be -called to judgment and to doom; but still the time fled and no summons -came, till darkness covered the face of the earth, and he heard the -sound of revelry above. Oh! how dissonant, how painful, how unlike it -had ever been before, was the merry voice and the gay laugh, and the -cheerful noise of the banquet! He thought it a cruelty in the Count to -place him there, a mute and sorrowful ear-witness of happy life, in -which he was no more to partake; and bending down his head, he covered -his eyes with his hands, but it must have been to shut out the sights -that fancy offered, for in the profound gloom around him no other -object was to be discerned. - -While he thus sat, he suddenly heard a sound, as if of the clanking of -an iron chain, and then a voice spoke, apparently close beside him. - -"Fear not, youth," it said; "be thy heart bold, be thy words true, be -thy faith pure, and fear not!" Ferdinand started up and listened, -almost fancying that his imagination had deceived him. The sounds had -seemed to come from the opposite side to that on which the door was -placed, and they were clear and distinct. It was a voice, too, that he -knew not. That of Father George he would have recognised anywhere; but -it was not his. The tones were deep and firm, like those of a man; and -yet there was a sad and solemn sound in them, which filled Ferdinand's -mind with doubt and awe. - -"Who is it that speaks?" he said; and instantly the voice answered, -"It matters not. It is one who knows. Hast thou not seen enough to -make thee believe?" - -"I have," answered Ferdinand; "and I do." - -But the voice replied not again; and all was silent. The sounds above -had by this time changed their character. Laughter had ceased, the -merriment and the revel seemed over; and though voices were heard -speaking, the tones of some were stern and grave, the tones of another -low and apparently suppliant. For many minutes, Ferdinand's ear -listened eagerly, as the speakers continued; but then steps were heard -coming down the stairs, and through the sort of wide vestibule that -separated the cell in which he was confined from the great hall. An -instant after, the key was turned in the lock, the bolts were drawn -back, and the door opened. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - - -While such had been the fate of the lover, what was the situation of -Adelaide of Ehrenstein? She, too, had suffered; but not so deeply as -he had. There was something in her heart that supported her; a -conscious innocence of purpose; a degree of faith and trust which man -seldom, if ever, can attain; a readiness for the worst, whatever it -might be; a full assurance that she could not, and that she would not, -survive him whom she loved, if death were to be his fate; and a -fearlessness of death itself, very different from man's bold daring. -In her love there was, as is almost always the case in woman's first -early attachment, a great difference from the passion of her lover. It -was less of the earth than his; and though Ferdinand's was pure, and -true, and bright,--though he would willingly have sacrificed life, and -all that life can give, for her sake,--yet hers was purer and holier -still. He dreamt of long days of joy and happiness with her, in the -midst of the fair scenes and warm blessings of this earth. She might -have such visions also, but they were not so vivid, and they went -beyond. She thought of happiness eternal with the chosen of her -heart--of joy, and peace, and sweet communion with the spirit of her -husband, in that union which could know no change, and never see an -end. It might be hard to cast off all the tender bonds of mortal -affection, to give away the love and bliss we know even for the -promises of eternity. She might feel a longing to spend with him the -ordinary days of existence here, and to pass with him from the -affections of this earth, calmly and peacefully to the brighter fate -of the good beyond the tomb. But yet the thought--ever present, ever -distinct--that existence here is but a brief portion of an endless -being, and that, though the passage may be sharp and full of grief, it -leads to compensation and reward hereafter, was sweet and consolatory -to her in her sorrow, and gave her strength to endure in contemplation -all that might follow. - -She had time enough for thought, and for tears, and for prayer; for -during the whole evening, from the time that her father left her in -anger, till the shades of night crept over the sky, her solitude was -only interrupted twice. Once a heavy footfall came to the door, the -key was turned, and there was heard a sharp knock. On saying "Come -in," the form of a common soldier presented itself, bearing some -provisions, and having set his burden down upon the table, he retired -without a word, again locking the door behind him. The second time -another soldier came, affording admission for a few minutes to the -girl, Theresa, who could give her mistress no information, and who was -still drowned in tears of apprehension for herself. Adelaide -questioned her but little, for she had never much trusted her; and -there was an undefined feeling of suspicion in regard to the girl's -attachment to her, which she blamed herself for entertaining, yet -could not banish. All the girl knew was, that Count Frederick of -Leiningen had arrived, and that he and her lord were about to sit down -to supper in the smaller hall; that Ferdinand of Altenburg had been -arrested, and was confined in one of the dungeons; and that all in the -castle were busily talking over the events which had taken place. A -bright colour came into Adelaide's cheek as she heard that her own -conduct was the subject of discussion amongst her father's followers -and his guest's; and very mingled emotions brought tears into her -eyes; but she asked no further questions, and gave no orders, although -it was for the purpose of rendering her any ordinary service that the -girl had been admitted for a short time to her chamber. The soldier -who had remained without soon grew impatient, and called to Theresa to -come away; and Adelaide once more remained alone while the shadows of -gloomy thought came darkening over her mind as those of the evening -crept over the sky. She sat and read the holy book before her, pausing -every now and then to think, as long as there was any light left. But -at length all was darkness; for neither lamp nor taper was brought -her, and she passed the hours in meditation, in tears, and in -listening to the various sounds that stirred in the castle, till all -was silent. Though striving hard to banish painful images, yet fancy -would present to her eyes scenes which might be passing very near the -spot where she sat, without her knowing them or their results. She -pictured to herself the short, brief trial which was all that was -likely to be afforded to him she loved; she saw him standing before -his judges; she heard them pronounce sentence upon him; she beheld him -dragged back to his cell, only to await execution on the following -morning, and her heart sank--oh, how sorrowfully it sank!--at the -thought that she had no power to help him. Her eyes overflowed with -tears again, and, kneeling before the place where the crucifix stood, -she once more had recourse to prayer. - -All had seemed silent in the castle for near half an hour, but she was -still upon her knees, with her head bent down, when her father's -well-known step sounded in the neighbouring chamber; and the next -instant he entered with a light. Touched, perhaps, a little, he might -be, at the sight of his daughter's grief and desolation, but still his -frown was not relaxed, and no kindlier feelings shone upon his lip. - -"What! have they not brought thee a lamp?" he said, as she rose on his -entrance. "Take this, and go to bed and sleep, for thou must rise -betimes to-morrow. I came to tell thee thy fate--his is sealed. At -early dawn, under the guard of a party of men-at-arms thou goest to -Würtzburg; there to pass the days of thy widowhood in the convent of -the Black Nuns, and to learn, I trust, in penitence and prayer, the -duty and obedience of a daughter." - -"The days will be few," answered Adelaide, in an absent tone. "Can -nothing move you, my father?" she continued. "I ask you not to spare -me--I ask you to spare him, to spare yourself; for bitterly, till the -last hour of life, will you regret it if you injure him. Nay, hear, my -father, for I am as calm as you are--but wait a few hours, give no way -to hasty passion, see and hear him who counselled us in what we have -done, and judge not till you have heard." - -"I have judged," answered the Count, turning away from her; "and -others have judged who are moved by no hasty passion. Give me no more -words, girl. His doom is fixed, I say. He shall not die till thou art -beyond the hills; but yet to-morrow's sun shall not be one hour old -before he pays with his head for the crime he has committed. No words, -no words;" and, leaving her the lamp he carried, he retired, and -closed the door. - -It is with difficulty that a kind and gentle heart realizes in -imagination acts of severity and harshness of which it is itself -incapable. Though Adelaide had feared, and trembled throughout the -day, with vague apprehensions of her father carrying his menaces into -effect; though she knew him to be stern and hard; though through life -fear had mingled with affection, yet she loved him too well to know -him thoroughly; for love has always a power of transfusing, as it -were, the life-blood of our own character into the object of our -affection; and when she was so gentle, she could not believe that he -was so cruel. The words he spoke, however, before he left her, the air -and manner in which they were uttered; the deep depression of her -mind, from long hours of grief and anxiety; the still and gloomy time -of night; all tended to give the vivid semblance of reality to the -deed which he announced to her. Could it be possible? she asked -herself. Could he really imbrue his hands in the blood of him she -loved--of one so kind, so good, so brave, so true? Should she never -see him more? Oh, no, no; it was too horrible to think of. It was -impossible. Her father would never do it. - -But as she thus stood on the same spot where he had left her, gazing -earnestly on the ground which she did not see, there was a light knock -at the door, and she started, but without replying. The knock was -repeated, and she said "Come in." - -A low, woman's voice, however, answered, "I cannot, lady, the door is -locked. Put down your ear to the keyhole." - -Mechanically she did as she was told, asking, "What is it?" - -"They have condemned him, lady," said the voice. "I heard them say -myself, 'Worthy of death,' and then they hurried him away. I cannot -stay for fear some one should come," and a retreating step immediately -announced that the speaker had departed. - -It was true then--too true. He was judged--he was to die--to die for -love of her--to die for an act in which she had taken willing part; -which she had not only shared, but encouraged. And did her father -expect that she would survive him; that she would see the lover of her -youth, the husband of a night, thus perish for her sake? that she -would live on in the cold world that he had left? Did he expect her to -mingle in its gaieties, to take part in its pageants, to taste its -enjoyments, to laugh with the merry, and sing with the light of heart? - -"He knows me not," she said; "he knows me not. The blow that takes my -husband's life, takes mine also. It was unkindness, I do believe, that -brought my mother slowly to her grave, and this cruelty will be more -pitiful in bringing me speedily to mine." - -Casting herself into a seat, she remained in the same position for -more than two hours, with her head drooping forward, her beautiful -eyes partly closed, her hands clasped together and fallen upon her -knee. Not a motion was to be seen in that fair statue. One might have -supposed her sleeping or dead. Sleeping, oh, no; sleep was far, far -away. It seemed as if such relief would be banished for ever, and that -grief--aye waking--would never know cessation. Dead! She longed to be -so; but she knew that long suffering must be first. The lamp flickered -at first brightly, showing the exquisite features in their still -motionless repose, and the graceful line of each symmetrical limb, as -it fell in the dull tranquillity of profound grief. From time to time -the ray glittered on a tear--not the quick relief-drop of violent -emotion rushing plentiful and fast from the eyes like a summer shower -no; but the slow, quiet, trickling tear stealing over the cheek, and -pausing here and there, but still swelling over as the fresh supply is -wrung from the eye by the slow agony of the heart. They fell unheeded. -She knew not that she wept. - -Not a word escaped her, not a sound passed from her lips. There was no -sigh, no sob, no mark of bitter passion; but there she sat, silent and -motionless, absorbed in the contemplation of the dark reality ever -present to her mind. - -The light of the lamp waxed dim and smoky, as the heavy hours rolled -on, but Adelaide sat there still; and in the increasing gloom of the -chamber, where the faint rays were absorbed as soon as they touched -the dark oak wainscotting, her form, clothed in white garments, seemed -like that of a spectre, and all the other objects in the room like the -faint unreal phantasms of a confused dream. But who is that who -suddenly stands beside her?--An old man in a long grey robe, with -sandalled feet, a cowl over his head, and steps so noiseless, that in -the terrible apathy of despair she hears them not. - -She started up the next instant, gazing wildly at him, and thrusting -back the glossy masses of neglected curls from off her marble brow. - -"I have come to save you, my dear child," said Father George. "Be -quick, cast something over you, and come with me." - -The fair girl threw her arms around his neck, and fell upon his bosom, -"Ferdinand! Ferdinand!" she murmured. "Save him, Father, save him. -Mind not me. I can bear my fate, whatever it is. Oh, save him, save -him! They have condemned him to death. If morning dawns, he is lost." - -"He is safe, daughter," answered Father George. "Safe, and by this -time, I trust, far away. I have left him to those who will not, and -who cannot fail." - -"Oh, but is it sure?" demanded Adelaide. "Did you see him go? My -father's words were dreadful. He would set a sure guard. He would -leave no chance. Are you sure that he is safe?" - -"As safe as I am," answered Father George, confidently. "The stones of -this castle would sooner fall, than one hair of his head under your -father's vengeance. Come, my child, come; make no more delay. It is -now near daybreak. Take but your mother's picture, and your veil to -wrap you in, and come away with speed." - -Joy was perhaps more overpowering than grief to Adelaide of -Ehrenstein. Her hands trembled, her limbs well nigh refused their -office; but yet she hurried her brief preparation as much as might be; -and then the monk took her by the hand, and blowing out the lamp, led -her on. The door of her chamber was open, though she had not heard it -unlocked. The antechamber without was vacant, and the last rays of the -sinking moon were streaming through the windows against the wall. -Everything in the castle was still as death, and in the wide corridor -all was vacant and silent, with the carved figures on the stone seats -grinning in the pale reflected light that poured from the sky through -the small panes. The feet of both the lady and her guide were -noiseless, for her step, like her heart, was lightened; and though she -trembled still, she hurried on down the wide staircase, and the -narrower flight of steps that led from the lesser hall to the old -stone vestibule near the greater hall. At the door of the latter, -Father George paused, and knocked thrice; and then whispering, "Fear -nothing," he opened the door, and led her in. - -There was a light in the hall, streaming from a single lamp at the -farther end. It was faint and dim in the vast space; but Adelaide -started, drew back, and uttered a low cry of surprise, as she saw how -that hall was tenanted. Seated in the great chair of state, at the -end, was a tall and lordly looking man, clothed in arms from head to -heel, and down either side, ranged in long line, were other forms in -armour, some with their swords bare, and some with banners in their -hands, which seemed to her terrified eye the same as those which -usually hung from the vaulted roof above. Every man had his visor -down, and all was profoundly silent; but the stern array daunted the -poor girl's heart, and she turned an eager glance to the countenance -of her companion. - -"Fear not," said Father George, in a low voice; "fear not, only come -on quickly," and supporting her shaking steps with his arm, he led her -on through that dark avenue towards the door at the farther end. None -spoke, none moved, as she passed along nearly to the close of the -line; but then the seated figure rose, and bowed his head without a -sound. Hurrying her on towards the door, the monk opened it, and led -her into the stone passage through which she had before passed. There -was a lamp burning on the floor; and quitting his hold of her arm, -Father George whispered, "Stay for me one moment," and then returned -into the hall. - -Turning a timid glance back, Adelaide saw him approach the chair of -state and speak for a few moments, in a low voice, to its mailed -occupant. He seemed to receive no answer; and then clasping his hands -together, in the attitude of vehement entreaty, the old man said -aloud, "I beseech, I adjure you! By all that is sacred! In the name of -Christ, forbear." - -The figure bowed its armed head: and, exclaiming, "Well," Father -George turned away, and hurried to her side again. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - - -As soon as Father George had rejoined Adelaide of Ehrenstein, he -hurried her rapidly on through the passage, and down the well -staircase, towards the vaults; but in pushing back the door which -opened into the serfs' burial-place, a sharp gust of wind blew out the -lamp, and they were both left in utter darkness. - -"I cannot go back for a light," said the priest; "but hold by my gown; -and fear not, daughter." - -The sights she had seen, however, in that place, and all the awful -mementoes of mortality which it contained, recurred at once to the -mind of Adelaide, and a chilly shuddering sensation crept over her as -she followed Father George, holding his robe with her right hand, and -feeling the way with her left. Scarcely had they taken a step, -however, when a voice demanded aloud, "Who is it comes hither?" - -"It is I," answered the priest, without pausing; "give way to the -holy cross." No farther sounds succeeded, except the shriek of a -screech-owl, as it flitted past; but the moment after, the -out-stretched hand of Adelaide came upon something cold, and round, -and damp, which she instantly perceived to be a mouldering human -skull, and, drawing her arms suddenly back, the movement was succeeded -by a rattling noise, as if a pile of bones had fallen down, one -striking upon the other. Then came a loud laugh, and a whispering -through the arches, and the poor girl faltered on her way, and drew -back. - -"Fear not, fear not," said Father George, hurrying her on again. "All -depends upon speed; let us lose no time. Where is that other door? It -should be here.--There is nothing but the wall. We must have got -astray amongst the arches?" - -Adelaide's heart sank with fear, and, leaning against the damp -stone-work of the vault, she supported herself with difficulty, while -the priest felt with his hand in order to discover which way the door -lay. Even he seemed puzzled and alarmed, as he proceeded slowly, -saying in broken, muttered sentences, "This is very unlucky. It must -be this way, surely. Keep close by me, daughter, and hold fast by my -robe. It is no jest to lose one's self here. Nay, this is the other -wall; we must have gone wrong again. Stay, I must have recourse to -other means--do not be alarmed." And, raising his voice, he added, in -a loud tone, "Let the chapel door be opened!" - -There was a pause, and then a slight rustling sound, and then the -creaking of a heavy door upon a rusty hinge, and the moment after, at -some distance from them on the left, a faint light, which would not -have deserved the name but from the more profound gloom of the vaults, -showed where the door was placed. - -"Now, quick, quick, my child;" said Father George. "Lean upon my arm; -there is no need of terror. 'Tis but that I would fain avoid bringing -about hasty deeds that can never be recalled. Day must be coming fast, -by that light; but we shall yet have time." And, hurrying her through -the door into the crypt, he took his way onward toward the arch which -led out upon the side of the hill. - -No farther obstruction presented itself, no living object was seen, -and, hastening after her old guide, Adelaide soon felt the fresh -chilly air, which in most countries precedes the dawn of day, -breathing cold upon her cheek. Not a streak was yet to be seen in the -eastern sky, the light clouds above were untouched with the rays of -the coming sun, and the stars were seen peeping through them here and -there, but yet there was a silvery greyness mingling with the darkness -of the night, and showing plainly that morning was at hand. - -"Now, my child, all is safe, I trust," said the priest, as they issued -forth. "Take heart, take heart, for you must still walk down to the -chapel, I could not have the horses brought up here." - -"Is Ferdinand there?" asked Adelaide, anxiously. - -"Nay, nay; he's farther than that by this time, I trust," answered -Father George; "but you shall soon join him, where there will be more -safety for both." Thus saying, he led her on; endeavouring to while -away the time, and cheer her spirits, with kindly words and -assurances; but Adelaide felt deeply depressed; and neither to feel -herself free from the threatened danger, nor to hear the monk's -assurances of her husband's safety, could rouse her from the dread and -apprehension that still hung upon her. - -When they were about half way down the hill, and the twilight had so -far increased that they could see the faint outline of the little -chapel from a point of the rock, Father George paused, and looked -down towards it with a somewhat anxious gaze. "It is very odd," he -muttered to himself; "they must have put them on the other side, I -suppose, to keep them out of sight;" and with a still quicker step he -hurried on down the hill, and soon, with his fair companion, reached -the chapel-door. - -"Go in, my child, and say an _Ave_ and a _Paternoster_," he said, -"while I look for the horses round here;" and as he spoke he pulled -open the door of the chapel for the lady to go in. He then went quite -round the little building, and, returning to the door of the priest's -lodging-chamber, shook it, exclaiming, "Brother Geoffrey, brother -Geoffrey!" No answer was returned, and, entering the chapel, he said, -in a tone of some alarm, though he strove hard to conceal it, "The -horses have not come, my child, though they should have been here an -hour ago; but you will be quite safe here. Come with me into the cell. -You can take some refreshment there while I go and seek them." - -"Oh! do not leave me," cried Adelaide; "I shall die with fear, if I am -left alone." - -"No, no--not so," answered the priest; "I will show you in a -moment that you are quite safe;" and, drawing a key from under his -gown, he opened the door which led from the little chapel to the -lodging-chamber at its side, and entered with the lady. - -The cell was quite vacant; but on a shelf at one side stood a bottle -of wine and some provisions, which the priest soon placed before -Adelaide, and insisted upon her partaking thereof, though appetite she -had none. "Now, I will go and see for the horses," he said, as soon as -he had made her swallow a morsel, and taste the wine. "But first I -must show you--Hark! they are coming, I think. Did you not hear a -sound?" - -"It is from the other side--it is from the castle," cried Adelaide, -starting up in terror; and the monk instantly crossed to a little -lancet-shaped window which looked up the hill, saying, at the same -time, in a confident tone, "No fear if it be, my child." - -The next instant he turned round, nodded his head significantly, and -locked the door into the chapel; then advancing to the spot where his -pallet lay, with the crucifix at the head, he put his hand upon one of -the large blocks of stone which formed the wall of the building, and -pressed against it with no great effort. It instantly gave way, -however, rolling back, as a door, upon a strong perpendicular bar of -iron run through the angle of the block,[2] and disclosing the lower -steps of a little staircase, to which he motioned his fair companion. -"Quick; go in, my child," he said, in a low tone, while the horses' -feet came clattering down the hill; and with breathless haste Adelaide -darted forward, and ran some way up the steps. Father George followed, -pushed back the block of stone, and secured it with a bolt. "Go on, -daughter," he said; and, feeling her way up; for the stairs were quite -in darkness, she soon came to a door-way leading into the belfry over -the little chapel. Father George followed her, and reached the belfry -just as two armed horsemen checked their beasts at the door. One of -them, springing down, entered the chapel in haste, but returned -immediately, exclaiming aloud, "He's not in there; and that door's -locked." - - --------------------- - -[Footnote 2: A door, precisely similar to that described, is still to -be seen in the old castle of Baden-Baden.] - --------------------- - - -"Try the other," cried his companion; and the man who had dismounted -going up to the door of the cell, shook it as if he would have forced -it off its hinges, exclaiming aloud, "Father George, Father George!" - -The good priest smiled, but replied not, and the next moment the man -without, exclaiming, with an oath, "I will see if he's within or not," -dashed his gauntleted hand through the lower part of the window, which -was dim with dust and age, and, holding by the stone-work, looked into -the cell. - -"There's no one there," he said at length. "Where, in the fiend's -name, can the monk be?" - -"Gone to the devil, I suppose," answered the other man, "who has got -more of his companions than they suspect at the abbey, I fancy. But, -at all events, we must go back as fast as may be. The Count won't -catch him in a hurry, I should think." - -While he had been speaking, his companion remounted, and they rode off -together towards the castle. - -"Now, my child, you will not be afraid to stay here," said the priest, -turning to Adelaide, as soon as the men were gone. "I will not be long -ere I am back, and no harm can happen to you." - -"I shall have less fear," replied the lady; "but yet I shall be -afraid. Day is breaking--how shall I ever escape? But look," she -continued, pointing towards the wood, as she stood with her face to -the arch over the bell, "there is a horse coming up that path, and -another behind." - -"Brother Geoffrey at last!" exclaimed Father George. "What can have -detained him so long?" - -"But it is already day," answered Adelaide, in a desponding tone. "We -shall be pursued, and overtaken." - -"No fear, daughter; no fear," answered the good priest. "See you not -that you go well guarded?" and he pointed to a number of horsemen, -habited like the serving brothers of the abbey, who were now coming -out of the path which they had been following, into the small open -space before the chapel. - -"Alas!" said the lady; "what could these good men do against my -father's soldiers?" - -"There are more who watch for you than you know," said the priest; -"and if these were not enough, there are others on the road ready and -careful; but each of these, daughter, is equal at any time to a -man-at-arms, and not unpractised either. However, I will go with you -till you are beyond all danger, and you may be well assured that I -will do my best to avoid all risk of strife. Now, come with me, and -rely upon my counsels, nor doubt that they will guide you to safety at -last, though I warned you from the first that there were dangers and -sorrows to be encountered." - -While he had been speaking, Adelaide's eye had been resting upon the -brake through which the cavalcade was advancing; and at length, to her -joy and surprise, she saw a woman's figure appear amongst the rest. -Father George remarked the expression of satisfaction that passed over -her face; and though she spoke not, he replied to her thoughts, -saying, "It is your girl, Bertha: they have thrown a nun's gown over -her and a veil, which is not quite right, perhaps; but the end -justifies the means." - -The good priest's maxim is undoubtedly an immoral one, though Father -George, with some small faults, was a moral and conscientious man; but -that maxim was, and is, and probably ever will be, a favourite one -with the church to which he belonged. Leading Adelaide down, then, and -feeling quite secure in the numbers which now surrounded the chapel, -he threw open the door of his cell; and--while Bertha, with joy, -embraced her fair mistress, asked a thousand questions which there was -but little time to answer, and told how she had not dared to return to -the castle, but had found protection and shelter in the village beside -the Abbey--the monk conversed with a brother of the order who came -with the train, and heard the various impediments which had prevented -their appearance sooner. Their conversation was short, however, for -day had already dawned; and Adelaide was speedily mounted upon a -horse, which had been brought thither for her service, and covered -with the habit of a nun, which Bertha carried with her. Father -Geoffrey dismounted from the mule he rode to take the place of his -brother priest at the chapel; and Father George got into the saddle to -lead and direct the party. - -By narrow and circuitous paths through the wood, avoiding as far as -possible every spot where they could be seen from the walls of the -castle, the monk and his companions wound their way round to the -stream, taking care to approach it as if they were coming from the -side of the abbey. Adelaide, as they went along, conversed for some -time with Bertha, in an under tone, turning quickly every now and then -to gaze around, as the terrors, which she could not shake off, -recurred again and again to her mind. When they approached the river, -however, renewed apprehensions for him she loved seemed to take -possession of her, from something that Bertha had said; and -approaching closer to the side of the priest, she once more inquired, -in an eager and anxious tone, "Are you sure he is safe--quite sure?" - -"As sure as any one can be of anything in this life, daughter," -answered Father George; "of nothing here below can we be perfectly -certain. But I myself entertain no doubt." - -His words were not as satisfactory to Adelaide as perhaps he expected. -She would fain have had him repeat over and over again every assurance -he had given of Ferdinand's safety. The strongest, the most positive -terms, could hardly have reassured her; and the admission even of a -chance of the evil she dreaded, made her heart sink. - -As it was absolutely necessary to ford the river, Father George paused -at the edge of the meadow before they quitted the covering of the -wood, to direct those who followed to make as much speed as possible, -after they issued forth, to gain the shelter of the trees opposite. -But while he was still speaking, the sound of a trumpet was heard; -apparently proceeding from the gates of the castle above. It only -served, however, to hasten the good monk's movements; and putting his -mule into a quick pace, he led the way to a ford over the stream. The -trumpet sounded again, just as they reached the bank and came in full -view of the walls. Each naturally turned the head in the direction of -the castle; but there an unexpected sight presented itself. The -gateway beyond the drawbridge was crowded with men, the figures -distinct, though the faces could not be seen: but none seemed mounted -for pursuit, and all were apparently occupied with another and more -terrible act. On the drawbridge itself were seen three figures: one -kneeling, one in the long robes of a priest, standing at some -distance, and one, with long bare arms, uplifting a ponderous axe. -Just as Adelaide's eyes were turned in that direction, the axe fell -upon the neck of the kneeling figure, and a loud, wild shriek burst -from her lips. Bertha, who was close beside her, caught her firmly, or -she would have fallen headlong into the stream; but the lady's eyes -swam faintly for a moment, and then all was darkness and -unconsciousness. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - - -We must now return to other personages in the castle of Ehrenstein; -for the ways of life are like the roads through a country, where, -though many of them may be close together, events of great importance -may be passing on each, totally unknown to those who are travelling -along the others, although very probably they may be deeply interested -in the occurrences which are taking place so near at hand. - -In gay and gallant array, with arms gleaming and trumpets sounding, -but at a much quicker pace than he had employed on his first visit to -the castle, Count Frederick of Leiningen swept up towards the -drawbridge, after having seen the stronghold of the Baron of Eppenfeld -irreparably destroyed. His face was somewhat graver than it had been -on the former occasion, and his followers remarked that he mused more -than was his wont. No one was by his side but his jester, and with him -he conversed from time to time; but their conversation seemed to those -who watched them, much more sad and serious than might be expected in -a brave soldier who had just added new laurels to his wreath, when -talking with so merry a companion. Behind them same several of the -Count's knights and attendants, and with them Martin of Dillberg, who -had encountered them by the way, and, after speaking a few words with -his lord, had ridden on to take his usual place in the train. The -young man did not seem at all at his ease, however, though nothing of -any very great moment had occurred, since his meeting with the Count, -to bring gloom upon his brow. His lord had heard what he had to say -without comment. He had neither smiled nor frowned upon him, but -simply told him to go and take his station. His companions in the -train had said little beyond what might give him an account of the -fall of Eppenfeld in answer to his questions. But there are slight -signs of manner more strongly indicative of the thoughts within than -even spoken words; and there was a dryness in the answers of the -soldiery, a keeping aloof from him, a want of free communication, -which instantly struck Martin of Dillberg as symptoms by no means -pleasant. What conclusions he drew thence does not much signify to -inquire; but after he had ridden along with the rest for about half a -mile, he reined in his horse, and was turning it towards the rear, -when one of the old knights exclaimed, "Holla, youth; keep your place. -Whither away so fast?" - -"I was but going to have a look at the prisoners," said Martin of -Dillberg. - -"There are no prisoners," answered the old knight. "They were all sent -on with the Count of Ehrenstein; so keep your rank." - -Martin of Dillberg was well aware that he was no great favourite -amongst his lord's retainers; but there was something marked about -their demeanour towards him, on the present occasion, which made him -feel that uneasiness which a guilty heart always experiences at the -prospect of discovery. He saw, too, that there were keen eyes upon -him, and consequently that there was no chance of escape; and thus he -was forced to ride on till they reached the gates of Ehrenstein, -meditating, with a quick and subtle wit, the plan of his future -conduct. - -The drawbridge was down; and old Karl von Mosbach, with a number of -men-at-arms, ready to receive Count Frederick, stood under the -gateway. But the Count of Ehrenstein was not himself present; and his -noble guest had dismounted from his horse, and given some orders to -his attendants, before the lord of the castle appeared. He apologised -in courteous terms, but with a somewhat absent air, on the plea of -having been engaged in important business; and his eye, while he was -speaking, ran over the followers of his friend, till it rested upon -Martin of Dillberg. Just as it did so, one of the soldiers of Count -Frederick took the youth by the arm, and whispered something in his -ear, which instantly made his face turn deadly pale. "What have I -done?" he said, aloud; looking to the Count of Ehrenstein. "I have but -given true and just information against a false traitor." - -"Nay, my lord," said the Count, addressing his friend; "this good -youth has rendered me a service, I pray you, deal not harshly with -him." - -"He shall be dealt with, noble lord, according to his merits," replied -Count Frederick, laying his hand familiarly and good-humouredly upon -the other's shoulder, but not in the least betraying any wavering or -want of firmness in his tone. "Take him away; and do as I have -ordered. We will discuss his affairs more at leisure." - -"What a sweet thing it is," said the jester, "to hear the lamb -interceding for the wolf; the dove pleading for the kite. One would -think that the Lord of Ehrenstein had no value for golden ducats, that -he would deal so tenderly with him who well nigh prevented them from -reaching his hands; but tender-heartedness is the virtue of great men -of all classes; and Heaven, which made me a great fool, made me -tender-hearted also. Faith! I could weep to think of so pretty a lad -being whipped for just teaching other boys to steal the apples which -he had not wit or strength to steal himself." - -"What means he, my good lord?" asked the Count of Ehrenstein, turning -from the jester to Count Frederick. - -"Now, Heaven save me from being a man of wit and letters!" cried the -jester; "they have ever so many meanings in their own heads, that they -can never tell what another man means." - -"He would say, Ehrenstein," answered Count Frederick, "that over that -youth, whom they are now leading away, hangs the heaviest of charges; -the last of many that have been brought against him. He has had full -warning thrice before, and thrice has he had forgiveness. Now he shall -have fair hearing, and speedy justice. But, for the present, let us -speak of gayer things. We will sit and hear his cause some quiet hour -this evening. Eppenfeld will hold no more plunderers. The great tower -is down; the walls blasted and riven; and if any wolves henceforth -inhabit it, they must walk on four legs, and wear hairy coats. How -goes it with your fair daughter? Faith! her summer smile has well nigh -warmed my wintry heart into a flame." - -"She is ill," replied the Count, abstractedly; and then, after a pause -of silent thought, he murmured to himself, "There may be malice in the -telling, yet truth in the tale; but what need I more? She has -confessed it herself." - -"Come, come, my noble friend," said Count Frederick, "do not grieve or -be apprehensive; this is some light illness of your fair daughter's; -it will soon pass away." - -"I fear not," answered the Count. "But come, we will to the hall, and -after supper we will have discussion of other things; for I, too, have -a cause to try, and a prisoner to judge; and, if I comprehend the -words of our friend here rightly, one axe may serve for two." - -These were grave and somewhat bitter words; and, in our days of -softness and refinement, we cannot well comprehend how such sanguinary -thoughts as they expressed could mingle with revelry and merriment; -but in those times the case was very different; and if men had -suffered themselves to be made sad by dark and cruel purposes, there -would have been few cheerful hours in life. We must remember that -bloodshed formed a part of their sports. War was not only a -profession, but an amusement. The sight of violent death, the habit of -encountering it themselves, and the little security that existed -against its occurrence at any moment, hardened them to inflict it -lightly upon others; and the Count of Ehrenstein strove to throw off -the gloom which anger and a thirst for vengeance, rather than awe at -his own sanguinary intentions, had brought upon him, and resumed a gay -and cheerful air, as he led Count Frederick to the lesser hall. He -spoke of supping speedily, and was giving orders to that effect; but -his guest exclaimed, "Nay, though I be hungry enough, in sooth, I must -first wash this gunpowder from my face and hands. I have a letter, -too, that I would fain write; so that, if it will not spoil your meal, -I would deny my hungry stomach for a couple of hours." - -It was arranged according to his wish; and, retiring to his -apartments, he remained there, less, it would seem, in writing than in -conversation. The jester and one of his knights accompanied him. His -chaplain was sent for, and then two more of his retainers; and though -at the close of the time he had stated, a messenger with a sealed -packet was sent off to Hardenberg, yet, sooth to say, the words that -the letter contained were but few. - -Not long after, he joined his entertainer in the hall, and found him -walking up and down between Mosbach and Seckendorf. The latter seemed -not well pleased with what was passing; and, as the door opened for -Count Frederick, and the old knight saw that his further conversation -with his lord would soon be interrupted, he replied hastily to -something which had gone before, "Well my lord, well, it is very true -what you say; but if you would take my advice, you would wait, and get -cool. You may think better of it yet. He is brave and stout-hearted, -cool and skilful, and will make as good a man-at-arms as ever lived. -He is noble, too; and, with God's blessing and good luck, there is no -telling what he may reach to." - -"He has reached too high already," answered the Count, gloomily. "We -will make his arm shorter;" and he turned to welcome his guest to the -hall. - -The meal passed in the usual course; and though hungry men will be -silent till the first keen edge of appetite is taken off, yet, when -sad havoc had been made amongst the huge joints of meat, the capons, -the geese, the ducks, which loaded the table, laughter and merriment -soon began to spread around; the wine-cup circulated freely; the wine -was good, and every one seemed to vie with his fellow in doing justice -to it. - -"Drink fast, drink fast," said the jester to an old knight who sat -near, for the sport is yet to come. "My good lords, I pray you tell -me," he continued, "what is the use of taking young men's heads off?" - -"To prevent them doing mischief with them, Herr von Narren," answered -Count Frederick. - -"A bad reason, uncle, a bad reason," answered the jester, "as I will -show you upon three propositions. First, because it is not true, as -you never think of taking their heads off till the mischief is done; -next, because, if you always used that precaution, you would not be -able to execute it, as, if all the young men's heads were taken off, -there would be no old ones to take them off; next, because it defeats -its own object, as, if you take their heads off, they are sure to fall -into corruption, and to fall into corruption, the church tells us, is -a grievous sin. Marry! we should have fine shaving of our shoulders if -the practice was generally carried out. I doubt me much, if it had -begun earlier, that most of those sitting here would be nine inches -shorter, and much less mischief would have been done in the world. I -can understand right well the taking of a cork out of a flask of wine, -or the head off a barrel of pickled herrings; but why men should chop -off the top story of the soul's house, as the cook does the root of a -turnip, I could never divine. Marry! it puzzles me, and I have never -yet heard the problem explained." - -"Faith! jester," said the Count of Ehrenstein, "it is not in every -barrel of pickled herrings that one finds such a fish as thou art." - -"Truly not," answered the other; "many things in life come from places -whence they are least expected." - -His words seemed to throw the Count into deep thought; but the jester, -who seemed, after the manner of his class, to have cast a random bolt -which had hit hard without his knowing or intending it, rambled on to -other subjects, jesting rather sharply with old Seckendorf, who seemed -in no humour to be pleased with merriment. In the mean time, Count -Frederick addressed some words to his host, which roused the other -from his reverie, and they spoke together for several minutes in low -tones, till at length the rising of the Count of Ehrenstein gave -notice that the banquet was over. The boards were speedily cleared, -the tables carried away, and while some sauntered forth to walk upon -the battlements, or in the court-yards, in the fresh night air, others -were preparing themselves for the usual pastimes of the castle hall. -As soon, however, as all vestiges of the meal had been removed, the -voice of the Count of Ehrenstein was heard, saying aloud, "Let all -men, but knights, leave the hall. This good lord and I have business -of moment to transact." - -"And jesters, I suppose you mean, noble lords; for they are well -fitted to take part in solemn business of high import. What is finer -food for them than to see grave men doing foolish things?" - -"No, my good friend," answered the Count sternly; "your company is -very pleasant, but just now your absence will be pleasanter than your -presence." The jester laughed, whispered what seemed a jest to Count -Frederick, and left the hall with the rest. While they were trooping -out, the Count of Ehrenstein spoke something quickly to his friend, -who answered immediately, "No, no, the other case first. See upon -whose evidence the charge rests before you judge him." - -"I need no evidence but what I have," replied the Count; "but be it as -you will, Leiningen." - -Count Frederick nodded; and looking round the hall, in which six -gentlemen, bearing knightly rank, were left, besides Mosbach and -Seckendorf, and the two lords, he raised his voice, and addressed one -of his followers, saying, "Tell them to bring Martin of Dillberg -before us, and gather those men together whose names I gave you." - -The knights hastened to obey, the two noblemen seated themselves at -the higher end of the hall, the others ranged themselves around, and -all waited in gloomy silence for the events that were to follow. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - - -With a pale countenance and feeble limbs, Martin of Dillberg was -brought into the presence of the two lords. Imprisonment, even for the -short period which he had endured it, had taken from him all the bold -confidence which he usually displayed, and which had served not a -little, on many occasions, to deliver him from difficult and dangerous -circumstances, into which a perverse heart and a subtle and -unscrupulous mind had led him. No sooner did he appear, than a dark -and terrible change came over the face of Count Frederick of -Leiningen. His frank, open, and cheerful countenance had become grave -some minutes before; but now a heavy frown gathered on his brow, and a -stern, indignant quivering of the upper lip seemed to show that it was -with difficulty he refrained from heaping reproaches on the youth's -head, rather than treating him as a prisoner before his judge. The -young man's courage, already low, sank still farther when he saw the -expression of his lord's face, and he turned an eager and imploring -look to the Count of Ehrenstein, but found no comfort there. - -"Martin of Dillberg, stand forward," said Count Frederick, in a loud -tone, "and answer for yourself before the witnesses against you enter. -Did you, or did you not, linger behind at Saarbrück, on the pretence -that your horse had fallen with you, and injured you severely?" - -"And so he did, my noble lord," said the youth, taking a step forward, -with his heart somewhat lightened by the first question. "You yourself -saw that he fell, and hurt me." - -"That he fell, I saw," answered the Count; "that he hurt you, depended -only upon your own testimony. But answer again, Whence went you from -Saarbrück?" - -"To Zweibrücken," answered Martin of Dillberg. - -"At what hour did you set out?" demanded his lord. - -"Early in the morning, my lord, the day after you went," replied the -young man; "and I reached Zweibrücken towards evening." - -"A long journey for a hurt man," said Count Frederick. "But let that -pass. I must have been in Zweibrücken when you were there; why did you -not join me?" - -"I knew not of your being there, noble lord," replied the youth. "I -lodged at the first little inn I found; and I have heard since you -were at the abbey." - -"Good," answered the Count. "Whence did you go from Zweibrücken?" - -The young man paused and hesitated, but at length he answered, "To -Anweiler, my lord." - -"In one day?" asked Count Frederick,--"a longer journey still." - -"I was stronger that day, Sir," answered Martin of Dillberg; "and bore -it well enough." - -"Doubtless," said Count Frederick, drily; "but why was it you went to -Anweiler at all, leaving the straight road hither?" - -"Because I was alone, my lord," answered the youth; "and knew not the -way over the hills. They told me, too, that it was dangerous, and I -thought the high road less so." - -"Then, when left you Anweiler?" inquired Count Frederick. "On the -following morning early," was the reply. - -"Then, had you made as much speed as before," replied his lord, "you -must have reached Ehrenstein before me, for I passed nearly two days -at Zweibrücken." - -"My horse cast a shoe," said Martin of Dillberg, with a varying -countenance; but then a light seemed suddenly to come over it, and he -added, "and I lost my way amongst the hills, and could not find it for -some time, so that I was obliged to return to Anweiler." - -"Where you passed a second night," said Count Frederick. "An -excellently well told tale, but it will not serve your purpose, youth. -Bring in the witnesses.--First, the good host from Anweiler." - -Martin of Dillberg's countenance fell; and a great, burly, grey-haired -man was brought in, and placed by his side. - -"Now, mine host," said Count Frederick, "repeat what you told me about -this good youth, the questions that he asked you, and the way that he -took." - -"Why, my good lords and noble gentlemen," replied the innkeeper, after -looking a moment at Martin of Dillberg, as if to identify him, "there -was no great harm in what he said, or in what I said, either. We were -talking that night, when he first arrived, over a bottle of good -Zeller wine, about the state of the country round, and I said, we -should do very well, and be happy enough, and be well contented, for -we had a number of good lords round who were kind to us, if it were -not for that devil of a Baron of Eppenfeld, who robbed and pillaged -wherever he thought fit, and plundered all the merchants that -travelled our roads without a safe conduct from him; and then he -said,--that is to say, the youth here,--that he should like to see -this Baron of Eppenfeld much. I told him he had better not, for he -might get himself skinned alive; but he only laughed, and asked the -way to the castle--that's Eppenfeld, I mean." - -"That was, that I might keep out of the way of the Baron," exclaimed -Martin of Dillberg. - -"May be," said the host; "but the next morning, before I went away, I -left my woman to take the reckoning, and ambled off upon my ass to see -how the vines were looking on the hill; and as I was going along the -little path amongst the vineyards, just above the road, you know, -where you look to Creuzberg, who should I see trotting along below me, -at a quick pace, but this good youth here. I don't mean to say he was -doing any harm; I know nothing about that; but I know he turned off -the road, up the valley towards Eppenfeld. We call it Hell's Mouth, -for few go in there that come back again; and if they do, it's in the -form of devils." - -"It was there I lost my way," cried Martin of Dillberg. - -"As to that, I know nothing," said the host; "but you came back that -night, and slept at my house, and you were not near so chatty as the -night before." - -"Enough, enough," said Count Frederick; "we have traced him on the -road to Eppenfeld; we shall soon find him at the castle gates, and -hear what he did there." - -Martin of Dillberg's two hands clasped together, straining tightly -upon each other, but he said nothing; and his lord, whose eye was -fixed upon him, at length, demanded, "Now, youth, will you confess -your crime?" - -"I have committed none," said the young man, sullenly. - -"Bring in the man we took in the watch-tower," said Count Frederick; -and looking to the host, he added, "you may go for the present." - -A man was instantly brought in, of a fierce and sullen countenance, -who gazed round him as if in some alarm; but Count Frederick soon -calmed the sort of savage fear he seemed to feel, saying, "Do not be -afraid, no harm is intended you. Now answer truly, did you ever see -that youth before?" - -"To be sure, I have," answered the man; "I opened the gates for him, -some days ago, at Eppenfeld." - -"But did not! come to ask the way?" exclaimed Martin of Dillberg. "I -adjure you, tell the truth. It can do you no good to ruin me--did I -not ask the way?" - -"You asked the way to my lord's presence," answered the man gruffly; -"that's all you asked; and I showed it to you, as I always did single -travellers; for he knew best how to deal with them;" and the man ended -with a laugh. - -"It is malice," said Martin of Dillberg; "it is malice." - -"We shall soon see where the malice lay," said Count Frederick. "My -good lord of Ehrenstein, there were men of yours who were present with -the youth, your squire, Ferdinand of Altenburg, who heard the message -which the Baron of Eppenfeld sent me back. They were freed from the -dungeon into which they were thrust, and I pray you let them be called -to bear witness of the Baron's words." - -The face of the Count of Ehrenstein seemed somewhat discomposed; but a -moment's thought reassured him. "Were it not better," he said, "to -bring down the Baron himself, as he is in the castle; he sent a rash -message to me also, which he has since formally retracted in writing. -Perhaps It may be the same in this case." - -Martin of Dillberg looked up with hope; but Count Frederick answered, -"No, my good friend, the Baron is my prisoner, and may be supposed to -act under my influence. Let Ferdinand of Altenburg be called, if you -will, he will speak the truth, and though it seems he is in disfavour -with yourself; yet that cannot affect this question." - -"He is my enemy," exclaimed Martin of Dillberg. "He will say aught he -can to injure me." - -"We will see if what he says accords with the evidence of others," -answered the Count of Leiningen. "He has had no means of knowing what -others say; I pray you have him brought, my lord. But, first, I would -have those men examined who were with him, touching the reply the -Baron sent to me." - -The Count of Ehrenstein had been meditating somewhat deeply; but he -saw that if there were danger of suspicions being excited against him -by anything that Ferdinand might say, it was a danger that must be -encountered sooner or later, and that the recantation of the charge -which had been made by the Baron of Eppenfeld was his best security. -He would fain have avoided the risk, however, and a knowledge of -Ferdinand's character taught him to believe, that whatever peril he -might stand in himself, he would confine his replies entirely to the -questions addressed to him, which might not be the case with the -common soldiers. "Let Ferdinand of Altenburg be brought hither, -Mosbach," he said. "His evidence will be sufficient for that link in -the chain. But, my good lord, if we are to decide this cause, we must -have better proof than what the Baron of Eppenfeld said in a moment of -rage. That is quite valueless; he accused me, he accused you, he -brought charges against every one; but you have testimony at hand -which can be rendered available. I found you in the castle hall, after -the fall of Eppenfeld, putting questions to a man, named Fritz of -Sambach, I believe, who, I have been told, acted as this great -marauder's lieutenant. He brought the charge you are aiming to make -good against one of your train, though he could not tell his name. He -is here in a chamber hard by, let him be brought in, and see if he -identifies the prisoner; and, lest any one should suspect that he is -influenced by his captivity, give him his liberty before he speaks; -there can be no great object in detaining him, and we cannot be too -careful that every point be proved, in a case of this kind." - -"So be it," answered Count Frederick. "Let him be brought in, if he is -well enough." - -"Oh, he can come," answered Seckendorf; "I saw him drink a stoup of -wine, an hour or two ago, which would hold any three flasks in the -cellar. I will bring him in a minute; but let the youth be seated -amongst the rest, that he may have fair play." - -"True, true," answered Count Frederick; "thank you, good knight, for -that honest thought.--Sit there, Martin of Dillberg. This time you -shall have plain justice to the full in every way. See that the guilt -on your countenance does not testify too plainly against you." - -The young man seated himself as he was told, and in a few minutes -Fritz of Sambach was supported into the room by two stout soldiers of -the Count of Ehrenstein. - -"Well, lords, what is it you want?" said the plunderer, in his usual -ready tone. "Here I am, for you to do what you like with me." - -"First," said the Lord of Ehrenstein, "we have sent to announce to you -that you are free; there is no use of keeping the minor offenders when -their chief is in our hands." - -"Well, that's civil enough," answered Fritz; "but as you have taken -all I had in the world, and scarified my skin pretty handsomely, I -trust that, before you send me away, you will cure my wound, fill my -belly, and give me a broad piece or two in my purse." - -"Nay, nay," said Count Frederick; "your wounds shall be cured, you -shall have food enough, too; but as for broad pieces you must get them -where you can; you will have none here. And now, being a free man, I -have one more question to ask you. You said, before many witnesses, -that you got the tidings which led you to plunder the Italian -merchants, from one of my people. It was a serious charge, and should -not have been advanced lightly." - -"Lightly!" cried Fritz; "I said it quite seriously; and it is as true -as that I stand here. He came and told the Baron all about their -route, and said they had great store of gold with them. He drove his -own bargain, too, and then he went and betrayed us, I suspect. But I -can tell him, if ever I get well of these cursed wounds, I will cut -his throat for him; though he does sit there amongst knights and -nobles, as if he had no hand in the affair for which we have all -suffered." - -"Then do you see him present?" demanded Count Frederick. "If so, -advance and touch him." - -The man walked somewhat feebly forward, and laid his hand heavily on -Martin of Dillberg's shoulder, saying, at the same time, "Here he -sits. Ay, do not finger your dagger; I have strength enough left to -strangle twenty such as you." - -"Enough," said Count Frederick, "enough. Let him go free, have his -wounds tended, and when they are better, let him pass the castle gates -at his will. Now, Martin of Dillberg, convicted traitor, stand forth -again. My good lord Count, and noble knights here present, you have -heard the evidence,--is any more required? Is this young man guilty of -base treason to his lord, of the blood that has been shed in this -affair, and of taking an active part in the plundering of honest -merchants, travelling hither upon the warrant of our safe conduct? -Pronounce if he guilty or not, and name the punishment which according -to our customs and laws, is awarded to such deeds." - -"He is Guilty," said the Count of Ehrenstein; and each voice around -repeated the word "Guilty." - -"Death is the punishment," said old Seckendorf; "and well does he -deserve it. By the cord, if he be a boor; by the axe, if he be noble." -Each knight present pronounced the same judgment; and while the awful -sounds of his condemnation rang in his ear, Martin of Dillberg stood -silent and pale in the midst, with his eyes bent down upon the ground; -but when a momentary silence followed, he raised his face, and gazed -wildly at the Count of Ehrenstein, exclaiming, "Oh! my lord, will you -not save me to prove--" - -The Count turned from him, merely replying, "Traitor!" and then, -springing forward, the wretched youth cast himself at Count -Frederick's feet, crying, "Oh, my lord, my lord, spare me for my -father's sake!" - -"Thrice have I spared you for your father's sake," said Count -Frederick, sternly; "and I will spare you no more. I trusted that -mercy might win you to better things, and that kindness and confidence -might render you true and honest, but I have discovered nought in you -but malice, and falsehood, and treachery; and even for your father's -memory it is well that you should die. You have heard your doom. Go -hence, and prepare for death." - -"Then I will do something worthy of it," cried the young man, starting -up quickly, drawing his dagger from the sheath, and aiming a blow at -Count Frederick's breast with the quickness of lightning. The Count, -however, had time to turn it aside, receiving merely a slight wound in -the arm; and the youth was immediately seized by two of the knights, -and thrown back upon the pavement. His dagger was then wrenched from -him, and he was dragged out of the hall, struggling fiercely with -those who held him, just as Ferdinand of Altenburg was brought in from -without. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - - -The manner and appearance of Ferdinand of Altenburg afforded a -striking and favourable contrast to those of Martin of Dillberg. There -were traces of mental suffering indeed, on his face, and there was -some anxiety in his eye, as it ran slowly round the circle of those -present; but there was nothing like fear. There was no trembling -apprehension; neither any appearance of stubbornness; but with an -upright head, a straightforward look, and a firm though serious -aspect, he confronted those who he knew were to be his judges, and him -who was about to be his accuser. The Count of Ehrenstein fixed his -eyes sternly upon him; but the young man's countenance did not fall; -and his lord remained for some moments in silence, as if considering -how he should proceed. At length, however, the Count addressed him -directly saying, "Young man, do you confess your crime against your -lord? To you I need not explain your fault. It is a high and grievous -one, as you are right well aware; and as I know you fearless, and -believe you to speak truth, I call upon you to answer, on your honour, -whether you be Guilty or Not." - -"My lord the Count," replied Ferdinand, "I know no cause why a man -should be made to condemn himself; and, on the other hand, if I say -that I am not guilty, my saying so will not be considered by you or -any one as proof that I am innocent. That you have some charge against -me, I know, from your having imprisoned me for some hours; but what -that charge is, you have not told me; and it is but fair that I should -hear it. Nay, more; it is but just that you yourself should prove my -guilt, if I be guilty; that you should bring forward witnesses of any -act in which I have offended; that you should confront them with me, -me with them; ay, and let me bring forward witnesses, too, to prove my -innocence after I am told my crime. I do not know much of the law and -custom of the land; but I do know that this is justice." - -"It is so," said Count Frederick, with a look of grave approbation. - -But the Count of Ehrenstein replied at once, "I have power of -executing justice in my own court, according to its customs; and I -have but called this noble lord and these good knights to aid me with -their counsel, that the law of the case may be sure. There are cases -in which the relations of social life are invaded, and of which, to -publish the whole facts to the wide world, would be doubling the -injury inflicted. I hold high justice in my own lands; and in my own -court will I judge you. But will merely put one simple question to -these knights here present; it is this: If the sworn retainer of a -baron of the land presumes, in secret and without lawful consent, to -marry the daughter of his lord, what is the punishment our customary -law awards for that offence?" - -"My lord the Count," replied Ferdinand, "this, then, is the charge -against me; founded, I suppose, on the testimony of the base youth who -has just been taken hence; but as it seems you do not intend to try me -now, as to whether I have been guilty of that offence or not, I will -keep what I have to say on that score till another time, when I can -call witnesses to prove what has been my conduct, and why. As to your -question, however, I must say two words before it is answered. First, -I am not your vassal, nor your serf, nor what is called your customary -man. By birth, I am your peer, as I will prove when need be, and as -you well know. Then, as to the only oath I ever took, it was to serve -and defend you in your life and goods, at the peril of my head, and I -have done so. There is no other oath between us." - -"That statement makes a great difference, my good lord," said Count -Frederick; "and you must amend your question, I think, unless you can -claim this young gentleman _as your vassal_, in which case you can -only confiscate his fief; or _as your customary man_ or serf, when his -head is forfeit." - -"I claim him as my customary man by oath, and by bread and wine," said -the Count of Ehrenstein, "as the laws of the good king Louis stated; -and by the same law it is provided that I shall execute justice upon -him in my court, if I have right of high justice in my own lands. The -question is, therefore, simply as I stated it,--What is the punishment -our customs award to a sworn retainer who marries his lord's daughter -without his consent?" - -"Undoubtedly, death," replied Count Frederick; "but--" - -"Take him away," exclaimed the Count of Ehrenstein, waving his hand to -the two soldiers who stood by Ferdinand of Altenburg; and the young -man was immediately removed from the hall. - -"You must hear me, my good friend," said Count Frederick firmly; "by -the words I have uttered, I mean not in any degree to give sentence in -this case, or to pronounce upon it in any shape, and I am sure in thus -saying all here will go with me. If the oath he took be such as he has -stated, he is not your customary man, and you cannot touch his life. A -thousand things may affect the question, of which we have no proof, -even supposing that he has really done those things with which you -seem to charge him. What has been said, therefore, is not by any means -a sentence, but merely an answer to a question." - -"That question answered," said the Count of Ehrenstein, with a bitter -smile, "I will decide all the rest." - -"Well," cried old Seckendorf, "I say with Count Frederick. I give -no judgment in the matter. We all know--at least, we've all been -told--that Ferdinand of Altenburg is of noble birth, and is even now -looking up for knighthood. Doubtless, my lord might have married his -daughter better; for the youth, I fancy, is as poor as any of us, but -that does not make his offence so heinous. As to the law, I know -little or nothing; but this I will say, that I do not think he has -done anything worthy of death." - -The Count of Ehrenstein merely nodded his head in grave but meaning -silence; and then, turning to Count Frederick, without answering any -of the observations which had been made, he led the conversation to -other subjects, asking in a light way, whether he would like to visit -his prisoner, the Baron of Eppenfeld, that night, or would wait till -the following morning. - -With a somewhat mortified air, his friend replied, that they had had -sufficient of painful tasks for one evening, and turned away to speak -to some of his own retainers, while the Count of Ehrenstein whispered -a few words to old Karl von Mosbach. - -The expression of the old ritter's face, however, was somewhat -doubtful and hesitating. He had no great love for Ferdinand of -Altenburg, nor indeed for any other young man; for he was one of those -who, after having enjoyed selfishly and grossly the pleasures of -youth, look back upon them when they have passed away, with that sort -of covetous regret, which engenders jealousy of those who have -succeeded to joys they can no longer taste, regarding them much as the -rich miser regards his heir. He was a prudent and a cautious man, -however; and while Seckendorf was disinclined to countenance his -lord's vengeance, from better feelings and a more generous heart, -Mosbach, without pity or remorse, was restrained by doubts and -apprehensions. Whatever it was that the Count said to him, he replied, -shrugging his shoulders, "Well, my good lord, you know best; but they -are all against it, that's clear, and Count Frederick's a powerful -prince, likely to have weight in the Imperial Court." - -The Count smiled with his usual bitter expression, and then replied, -in the same low tone to which their conversation had been restrained, -saying, "I will give way to his vengeance on his follower, Mosbach; -and in an hour after, he must give way to mine, for rightly -viewed--though he sees it not--his case is no better than my own. But -I tell you, Mosbach," he continued, grasping his arm, and shutting his -teeth close, "this youth shall not escape me, if I live and rule in -Ehrenstein for two days longer." - -While this conversation had been taking place between those who were -left in the hall, Ferdinand of Altenburg had been taken back to the -place of his confinement, by the two soldiers into whose charge he had -been given. They led him on civilly and kindly enough, for he was a -universal favourite in the castle; and one of the men could not -refrain from expressing his sorrow at the situation in which he was -placed. "Ah! Herr Ferdinand," he said, "this is a bad business! Would -to Heaven you had not been so rash! Love between a young gentleman and -lady is all well enough--it's a thing that can't be helped, and is -quite natural; but to marry her secretly was as mad a trick as ever I -heard." - -"It is not proved, my good friend, that I did," replied Ferdinand. "I -have had no trial yet." - -"Ay, ay, but our lord's trials are short enough, and soon over," -answered the soldier. "You remember when he caught William Schæffer in -sparing the goods of the fat boor by Simburg, because he was in love -with his little daughter--was not he detected, tried, and hanged in -less than an hour and a quarter? It's a bad business, I say. However, -what we can do to comfort you we will, and will bring you some wine -and meat, for you must want it, unless your friends the ghosts have -fed you." - -"I fear," answered Ferdinand, "they do not deal in such substantial -things, my friend. So I shall be glad of any provision you can bring -me. But do not you run any risks on my account. It is bad enough to be -in such an evil plight one's self, without bringing one's friends into -trouble.--But who is that standing at the door of the cell?" - -One of the men, who held a lamp, raised it to throw the light farther, -and at the same moment Count Frederick's jester came forward, -exclaiming in his usual tone, "Ah! friend rat, have you come back so -soon? I have been looking at your cage; it is wonderful what a number -of rat-traps there are in this world, and what sweet baits the devil -uses to lure men in--gold, and arms, and silk, and velvet, and pretty -women. Good faith! your bait was one that might well tempt a young rat -like you to nibble. I've seen a kingly crown before now in that same -devil's trap, and a goodly bait it proved, for it caught three before -it was carried off by a more cunning royal rat than the rest; but -after all, woman, woman is the most killing bait, and the most common; -for which reason our great enemy has strewed them about all over the -earth, as men scatter poison to destroy vermin. Poor youth, poor -youth!--to be trapped so early. I am sorry for your lack of wit." - -"Faith! Herr von Narren," answered Ferdinand, "I have neither wit, -will, nor spirit, at present to jest with you. I have to think of -death, I fancy, and to prepare for it as best I may." - -"Well, Heaven speed you!" said the jester; "and yet that's a sorry -wish, too. I should rather say, Heaven delay you! as you are not very -willing for the journey, I should think;" and as the young man passed -him to enter the cell, he added in a low voice, "I will go and tell -your friends the ghosts of your sad case; perhaps they may give you -spiritual help." - -These words, however, from the lips that spoke them, gave no comfort -to Ferdinand of Altenburg, and entering his cell, he asked one of the -soldiers to bring him any food that was to be allowed him as speedily -as possible, and if he could obtain permission to let him have a -light. - -"You shall have both, Herr Ferdinand, without permission," answered -the man. "I shall ask no questions about it; and as I have no orders, -either one way or the other, they can but blame me for a mistake." - -For about ten minutes, Ferdinand remained in darkness, after the -soldiers left him; but at length his friend reappeared, bringing him a -flask of wine, some meat, bread, and a lamp. "I must be quick," he -said, as he set them down; "for they've all parted in the hall in bad -humour, and old Mosbach is walking about like a she-wolf on a winter's -night." - -Before he touched the provisions, and as soon as the door was closed, -Ferdinand took the lamp, and examined the chamber carefully, to see -whence the voice he had heard could have proceeded. It was a large, -low-roofed room, directly underneath the lower hall, and supported by -two short, strong, stone pillars; but though he walked round every -side, looking keenly for any break or flaw in the walls, he could find -no doorway but that by which he had entered, no aperture but the -loophole which gave it light by day. The voice had seemed, however, -to come from the other side of the chamber, and there all was blank -stone. Could he have deceived himself? he inquired. Could the strange -sights and scenes he had lately witnessed have so far excited his -imagination, that a wild fancy could assume all the signs of reality? -"No, no," he thought, "that cannot be;" and seating himself on the -bench, which served for table also, he drank a cupful of the wine, and -ate a small portion of the food. As he did so, the same voice spoke -again, saying, "Eat and drink heartily: you will need it." - -"Who are you, and what are you?" exclaimed Ferdinand, starting up, and -gazing forward towards the corner from which the sounds seemed to -come. But at that moment some one tried the door, as if to ascertain -that it was fastened securely; and then he could hear voices speaking -without, in which he thought he recognised the tones of old Karl von -Mosbach and the Count of Ehrenstein. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - - -In about a quarter of an hour after Ferdinand of Altenburg had been -removed from the hall, Count Frederick of Leiningen retired to his own -chamber, and remained there in consultation with several of his -retainers, for some time. The Count of Ehrenstein did not continue -long in the hall after he was gone. None of the vassals or soldiery -ventured to return to the chamber they had been told to quit some time -before, and only Karl von Mosbach and old Seckendorf remained with -their lord. Towards the latter, however, the Count showed all those -signs of angry impatience which he was accustomed to display when any -one ventured to cross him in his purposes: not, indeed, by words, for -he spoke not to him; but by sidelong glances from under the heavy -brow, and every now and then a curled and quivering lip, when his eye -fell upon him. At length, after having walked once or twice up and -down the hall, he said, "Come with me, Mosbach," and led the way -towards the place of Ferdinand's confinement. He there shook the door, -to see that it was secure, and then, turning to his companion, he -said, "Ere noon to-morrow, Mosbach, he must die." - -"It will be better, then, my good lord," replied Mosbach, "to do it -quietly where he is, rather than to make a public execution of it." - -"Perhaps it may," answered the Count; "and I shall look to you to have -it done." - -"I must have your order, my noble lord," said Mosbach; "your order -under your own hand. Then it shall be done speedily, and no one need -know but myself and those who do it, that he is not still living." - -"Come to me in an hour," said the Count, "and we will consider how -this order is to be given--Whether it were better to call a court of -all the vassals, and judge him there, or by my right, as a high -justicer--they would condemn him, surely.--Well, we will see;--yet -there were times of old when good friends would to their lord a -service, and rid him of an offender without such formalities, well -knowing that he has the right, and secure not only of his protection, -but of his favour and rewards.--Ay, those old times are passing away, -I fear.--Well, come to me in an hour;" and wending his way up the -staircase, and through the corridor, he proceeded past the apartment -of Count Frederick of Leiningen to the small tower in which the Baron -of Eppenfeld was confined. Without pausing to think, for his mind was -already made up, and his plans arranged, he unlocked the door and went -in. - -"Thousand Schweren!" exclaimed the Baron; "you are keeping me here a -long while, Herr Count. I hope you are not going to play me false. -Why, it must be past midnight, and I have had no supper." - -"Past midnight!" answered the Count, with a smile; "no, Baron, no; it -is not yet eleven, and all the people of the castle are up and -stirring. They must sleep sound first, before you can escape; but it -is of that I came to speak. Count Frederick is fierce against you, on -account of some message you sent him; and he vows he will not rest -satisfied till he has you before the Imperial Chamber." - -"Why, the dog!" exclaimed the Baron, laughing, "the message I sent was -all true. I only told him one of his people had put me like a hound on -the track of these merchants; and he did too--a brown-faced, smooth -spoken youth, who told me his name was Martin of Dillberg--but that -might be a lie. However, if you will keep your word, old Leiningen may -fret about the Imperial Chamber, if he will. I shall be far enough -before he can catch me--the Imperial Chamber, good lack! that would -never do. But how is my flight to be effected? Have you arranged -that?" - -"It must be without my knowledge or connivance," answered the Count, -drily. - -The Baron gazed at him for a moment with renewed doubts; but then he -answered with a laugh, "Oh, I understand--you are not to be seen in -the matter, of course; but you can easily remove the men from the -bottom of the stairs, and leave the door unlocked." - -"Nothing of the kind, I can assure you," replied the Count. "Count -Frederick's men have relieved mine from the guard, and the staircase -is impassable." - -The Baron swore a huge and heavy German oath, too long and ponderous -for any English page, and then, with a bewildered look, asked how he -was to get away. - -There is a bitter pleasure in giving pain, at least in some men; and -perhaps the Count would have prolonged his amusement, had he not been -somewhat in haste. "There lies your only chance, Baron," he said, -pointing to the window. "You are not too broad in the shoulders to get -out." - -"Why, you would have me break my neck!" exclaimed the captive; "it is -full twenty feet down, and I fall heavy." - -"Not if you have a rope to hold by, I suppose," was his companion's -reply. "Now, mark me, my good friend, for I have not much time to -spare:--an hour hence, if the castle be then quite quiet, you will -find a strong rope let down from the window above,--it has borne one -man's weight to-day, and may well bear yours. You have nought to do -but fix it tightly to the bar, and then let yourself down. You will -find no one on the battlement below; then take the traverse that leads -direct to the outer wall, where, if you turn someway to the right, you -will find steps that bring you to a little postern; the way thence is -level, but narrow, till you reach the angle of the castle chapel. -Avoid giddiness, or too much wine, for they are the only enemies you -are likely to meet by the way. When you reach the chapel, take the -first path down the hill, and there you will find a strong horse tied -to a tree, with saddle and bridle. He is a gift, so you may freely -take him. There is another gift, which use discreetly till you see -better times," and as he spoke he laid down a purse upon the table, -which seemed well loaded. - -The Baron, with his usual greedy haste, clutched it almost ere it had -quitted the Count's grasp, tossed it lightly up, and then caught it in -his hand, "Ay, that chinks," he cried; "and as for the rest, I shall -be ready at the hour. No fear of my brain turning giddy. I have been -accustomed to walk on slippery places. Nevertheless, I should like -some supper, for that is a very needful preparation to a long ride. -Let me have some better wine, too, than that last; it was as thin and -as sour as the juice of an unripe pippin. I don't believe the generous -grape had any share in its composition." - -"Well, you shall have supper, and good wine," answered the Count; "but -be moderate in your meal, and think of the future, my good friend. And -so this youth, Martin of Dillberg, came to you, and betrayed the good -Italian merchants?" - -"Ay, that he did," answered the Baron; "I should never have known -aught about it, but for him. Let us not talk, however; time wears, and -I am hungry. You shall find me grateful, Count, in the way that may -best serve you." - -"I reckon on it," said the Count of Ehrenstein; "and so good night, my -friend." - -Thus saying, he turned and left him, and gave orders at the foot of -the stairs that a frugal supper, and one bottle of good wine should be -taken to the captive. - -As the Count was walking onward towards his own apartments, he was met -by the chaplain of Count Frederick of Leiningen, who said, "They are -seeking for you, my noble lord. Count Frederick wishes to see you -before he retires to rest." - -"I will go to him immediately," replied the Count; and with a slow and -thoughtful step he sought Count Frederick's room. He found him -surrounded by several of those who had been his companions in his -expedition in aid of the Knights of St. John, and as soon as the Count -of Ehrenstein appeared, his guest rose and advanced to meet him, -saying, "Ehrenstein, my noble friend, I wish to make it as clear as -possible, that we here present think no just cause has been shown for -putting to death your young follower, Ferdinand of Altenburg; and -without at all meddling with your right to judge your own people in -your own court, which I respect as much as I would my own, I do -beseech you not to proceed against him in any way without a fair and -open trial; for I do think you may find cause to alter your views -regarding him, and to pardon his offence." - -"Would I could say the same," replied the Count, "in regard to your -follower, Martin of Dillberg; but sorry I am to say that the charge -against him is fully confirmed by our prisoner of Eppenfeld." - -"He dies at dawn to-morrow," answered Count Frederick; "that is -determined. But this case is very different, as you must see. That -youth has been thrice pardoned for very grievous offences, and it is -now clearly proved, to the satisfaction of every one, that he is a -base, deceitful traitor." - -"The cases are very different," answered the Count, in a thoughtful -and placable tone. "Well, I will consider of what you say. I am not a -harsh man, Heaven knows." - -"Then, have I your word," asked Count Frederick, "that for this night, -at least, he is quite safe?" - -"Safety depends upon Heaven's will," answered the Count, with a smile; -"but as for my neither saying nor doing aught that can injure him, he -shall be safe, since you ask it; but, nevertheless, I beg you to -remember, that this shall not prevent me from proceeding against him -as I may think fit to-morrow, after I have considered, and spoken with -you farther." - -"That is all I could desire," answered Count Frederick. "Very many -thanks, my friend, and peace be with you for the night." - -No sooner had the Count retired, than Count Frederick turned towards -the jester and the priest, who stood near, saying, "All is safe, then; -and we may make our minds easy for this night." - -"As safe as a chain of words can make it, uncle," answered the jester; -"but I never yet did find that the padlock of a promise was not easily -picked, even by the weakest straw of an excuse. Go to, uncle; you do -not know the unreclaimed hawk you are dealing with. Dungeons are very -safe places for transacting secret business, and I should not be very -much disposed to trust a callow doveling to the paternal care of a -vulture." - -"What can be done, then?" asked Count Frederick, "I fear for the fate -of both these poor things; and I have promised the lady, too, to -befriend her, in case of need." - -"As for the girl," replied the jester, "you have an easy task; send -down to good Father George of Altenburg, and tell him what has -happened; let him know that she is in danger and in durance, and as he -has got her into the scrape, let him get her out. As for the youth, -I'll tell you what can be done;" and bending down his head, he -whispered a word or two in Count Frederick's ear. - -"Do as you like, do as you like," exclaimed that Prince; after -listening with an eager eye and a knitted brow. "I must have no share -in that, my good friend; for I feel myself somewhat bound by the words -we have lately spoken. I will do as you suggest, regarding the lady; -and, moreover, will watch well. You must act in the other case, as -seems best, without my knowledge." - -"So be it," answered the jester, laughing and quitting the room; and -Count Frederick immediately turned to one of the eldest of his -knights, saying, "Speed away down to the priest's, Gierheim; tell him -all the story; and say, not a moment is to be lost. Take care to pass -the gates quietly, however, and bid the warder-watch to let you in -without noise. Here is my signet, as a warrant to him, and you may add -a gold crown besides." - -The knight took the ring, and hurried away without reply; and the -chaplain then addressed his lord, inquiring "What is to be done with -this Baron of Eppenfeld, my noble lord? He little thought that I was -aught but the chaplain of the Count of Ehrenstein, or he would not -have told me all that had passed between them; and if, from any -farther conversation, he finds out that he was mistaken, they may -change their plans and foil you still." - -"All that is provided for already," answered Count Frederick; "he will -find his undertaking not so easy as he expects. We must force him to -recognise these papers, however; though I should judge that your word -would be sufficient." - -Some further conversation followed on the same subject; but we must -now turn to pursue the course of the nobleman who had quitted them a -short time before. - -As the Count of Ehrenstein turned away, after bidding his friend -adieu, he murmured to himself, "Now, may good luck send that old Karl -von Mosbach takes the hint I gave him; but whether he do or not, it -shall make no difference. If Frederick of Leiningen holds his -resolution, and puts his shrewd follower to death, the same axe shall -serve for Ferdinand of Altenburg." - -When he reached his chamber, however, he found old Karl von Mosbach -waiting for the promised order, and dismissing him with disappointed -petulance, the Count paused, and thought for several minutes, and then -visited his daughter's chamber, as we have seen. The interview moved -him more than he suffered to appear, though it did not shake his -resolution; and when he returned to his own chamber, he dismissed the -servants who were waiting, and sat down by the table to think. "What -is it," he said to himself, "that makes me feel thus regarding this -youth? What is it that has always made me feel so strangely? Loving -and hating him at the same time, trusting and doubting him, relying -upon him yet fearing him. It seems as if nature warned me to beware -lest he should work me some great evil. He has done so, and he shall -die; then he can do no more; but yet it is marvellous what a -reluctance I have to shed his blood--and yet I seem to thirst for it. -Am I growing weak and womanly, that my just purposes should thus shake -me? It shall be so no more. He dies, and then there is an end of -doubts. I will hie me to bed, and not think of it." - -Undressing himself in haste, he extinguished the light, and cast -himself upon his bed; but his head had scarcely pressed the pillow, -when a voice repeated three times, "William of Ehrenstein!" - -"What is it? Who calls?" cried the Count, starting up. - -"One of the dead," answered the voice. "Know you not the tongue?" - -"I do," replied the Count. "It is amongst the sounds of my boyhood. -Why call you me?" - -"I summon you to judgment," answered the voice. "As you judge, so -shall you be judged. In the great hall of the castle, before my chair -of state, under the banners of our fathers, in the presence of knights -and holy men who shed their blood for the deliverance of Christ's -sepulchre, I call you to your judgment. See that you be there, or -sentence shall pass against you, which there is no power on the earth, -or under the earth, to revoke. Make your peace with Heaven; for you -have had your time, and it is passing away." - -The large drops of perspiration rolled from the forehead of the Count, -and grasping the side of the bed firmly with his hand, as if to give -him strength, he asked, "Who shall intercede for me?" - -"In Heaven, we have all an Intercessor," answered the voice; "on -earth, intercession is vain. Appear at the judgment-seat as you are -called, receive your doom, send for the priest, and prepare." - -"Stay, stay, and hear me," cried the Count; but the voice made no -answer, and though he spoke again more than once, all remained silent. - -Tossing to and fro, the Count of Ehrenstein remained sleepless and -agitated throughout the night; at one time he thought he would rise -and obey the awful summons he had received, either alone or -accompanied by all whom he could gather together, but then again his -heart failed him, and the hour passed by without his regaining -sufficient courage to dare the result. At length, much to his relief, -the glimmering light of dawn began to shine through the window; and, -rising, he roused his attendants, and gazed moodily from the casement -for several minutes. - -"Let two men go down to the chapel in the wood," he said, "and bring -up the priest, Father George, instantly. He may be alarmed, so give -him every assurance of safety; but bring him by force, if he do not -come willingly. These monks," he continued, speaking to himself, as -the men went to obey his mandate, "how they encroach upon all their -neighbours! Here, not content with lording it over every one around, -they must needs plant this chapel within the very lands of Ehrenstein, -like an outpost thrown forward by an invading army into an enemy's -territory. What fools our ancestors must have been to suffer such -things! It is prescription makes them strong--ay, and our own weak -hearts.--Judgment! Could it be a dream? How often slumber will cheat -us with visions so like reality, that even when they are past, we know -not whether they be true or false--and yet I have not slept since." - -"My lord, one of the pages of Count Frederick has brought this note," -said a servant entering. The Count took it, cut the silk, and read; -then calling the boy in, he said, "Be it where Count Frederick -pleases; bid him use this castle as if it were his own. Why, boy, how -white thy cheek looks. Remember, none need fear but those who betray -their lord. So go and give my message to your master.--Ferdinand of -Altenburg," he continued, murmuring to himself, "your hour is coming!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - - -Had the Count of Ehrenstein and old Karl von Mosbach spoken loud and -distinctly when they visited the door of Ferdinand's prison, the -captive must have heard the pleasant arrangements making for his -transmission to another world; for although the door was stout and -thick, so as to be itself impervious to any sound, yet the pavement -had sunk away from it, or it had shrunk from the pavement, leaving a -vacancy of at least two fingers-breadths. But the nature of their -conversation was such as to subdue the voice, even though they thought -that no one could overhear them, and all that caught Ferdinand's ear -was the indistinct murmur of tones which were well known to him. They -soon ceased, however, and he heard the sound of slowly retreating -steps. After a pause, to insure that they were gone, he raised his -voice, and inquired, "Is any friend near?" No reply was made, and -though he repeated the question, all remained silent. "Well," he said -to himself, "if any one comes to my deliverance, he will doubtless -come at the right time; so I will even follow the counsel given, and -eat and drink heartily." - -The food, the wine and the hopes that had been given him, revived the -spirits of the young captive, and his meditations, instead of being -continued upon death, and the loss of all he loved and valued, were -carried vaguely over a thousand circumstances connected with his -situation; the strange events that so frequently interrupted the -ordinary course of proceedings in the castle, the special care which -seemed so mysteriously taken of himself, and the question of how and -when it was all to end. Adelaide, too,--he thought of Adelaide often -and deeply; and thrilling, painful apprehensions for her frequently -crossed his mind; for though he felt sure that her father's anger -would not fall so heavily upon her as upon him, yet he well knew that -she would not be suffered to escape without some severity, and he -thought that she was less able to bear it than he was. How would she -act? he asked himself--what would she say when questioned? But these -ideas raised up others, and they again mingled themselves with fresh -associations; Adelaide's conduct in the past puzzled him even more -than the question of what might be her conduct in the present or the -future. What was it, he asked himself, which had caused so great and -sudden a change in her demeanour, which had rendered her--so timid and -apprehensive in the first dawning of their love--in a moment willing, -eager, anxious to unite her fate with his, although no objection -seemed removed, no danger lessened. It seemed very strange; and, -connected with the sights he had seen, and the words he had heard from -beings whose nature and properties were all a matter of doubt and -mystery, it led to still deeper thoughts and inquiries--why should -spirits thus be suffered to revisit the earth where their mortal -career was terminated?--Or rather, was it not very natural, that if -judgment did not immediately follow dissolution, and the souls of the -dead were not instantly transferred to endless joy or endless sorrow, -they should be allowed to haunt the scenes in which the sins of earth -had been perpetrated by the wicked, or the virtues of the good had -been exercised, and to witness, mingle with, and take part in the -results of their own past deeds, as they affected living men? - -Such thoughts whiled away some hours, and, in the mean time, the -sounds in the castle ceased one by one, till all became still; but -sleep had no power over Ferdinand's eyes, and he was still sitting -rapt in meditation, with his back leaning against the stone wall, and -his arms crossed upon his chest, when the same voice was heard again, -making him instantly start up, "Ferdinand," said the voice, "it is -time to go." - -"But how can I go?" he demanded, "and where?" - -"Hast thou not a key?" demanded the voice; "the master key of all -these doors." - -"Nay," answered Ferdinand; "I was obliged to give it to another to -bear tidings of our fate to the priest." - -"Take up the lamp, then," said the voice, "and approach the stone in -the middle of the pavement." - -The young man did as he was bidden, and beheld a large slab of -slate-coloured stone, with some old characters engraved upon it. They -were, - - Beneath this stone lieth the body of - Wolfgang of Spires, - Who built this Castle from the Foundation to the third story of - the Keep, - In the space of three-and-twenty years, - At the end of which he was called to a Mansion not built with hands. - He rests in peace. - -Ferdinand gazed upon it, holding down the lamp, and reading the rude -letters with some difficulty, mentally inquiring, as he did so, "What -has this to do with me?" But suddenly he thought some wind had made -the flame of the lamp quiver, for the letters seemed to shake, and -then the stone began to rise slowly in two-thirds of its length, the -other third being depressed, as it moved upon a pivot. When at its -full height, the wooden rounds of a ladder were perceived, and the -voice said, "Descend." - -A doubt flashed through Ferdinand's mind, as to whether this might not -be a means of consigning him to a nameless and unrecorded death; but -it instantly passed away, as all the events which had lately taken -place crowded upon his memory; and, without showing any hesitation, he -began the descent, carrying the lamp in his hand. As his foot touched -the ground below, he gazed around, but all was vacant, and he found -himself in a vault or monumental chapel, against the east side of -which was placed a stone altar, with mouldering ornaments upon it, and -to the north a marble tomb, surmounted by a recumbent figure in a -burgomaster's gown, with the face turned to the altar, and the right -hand holding a mason's rule. Opposite to the altar, on the west, was -an old wooden door, partly open, and in a state of complete decay, and -as the young gentleman turned towards it, the voice said, "Go -forward." Still obeying implicitly, Ferdinand of Altenburg advanced, -and pushed open the door. Before him was a long passage, and as he -walked on he heard a sound of clanging steps, as of men walking over a -stone pavement, in arms. There was no door to the right or left, and -nothing to be seen but cold walls of rudely finished masonry, except -as he approached the end, where a flight of stone steps led upwards as -if into the castle again. Ferdinand hesitated for a moment at the -foot; but then, as he had been told to advance, and there was no other -way of doing so, he proceeded till he had numbered thirty steps, and -then found himself at the end of a narrow passage, leading to the -right. On his left hand was a row of small fretted arches, filled up -with stone; but on the other hand, where the same decoration appeared, -though the lower part was closed with masonry, the fanciful stonework -in the point of each lancet arch was left clear, as if to give air to -the sort of gallery in which he stood, and a faint light shone through -the apertures from some chamber beyond. There was a sound, too, rose -up, as if he was raised high above a chamber full of people, and -approaching one of the arches, with natural curiosity, the young -fugitive looked through. He then discovered that he was in a gallery -at the end of the great old hall, but raised as high as the capitals -of the columns, and below him a strange sight presented itself by the -faint light which reigned in the hall. It was somewhat different from -that which Adelaide beheld; for, although there was the same range of -armed forms, stretching in line towards the great door at the other -end, the chair of state was vacant. No motion was observed in the -figures underneath: each stood in his arms like a statue, but yet -there was a faint murmur, as if they spoke in low tones, and Ferdinand -felt tempted almost to pause, and see what would follow. Ere he had -done more than take one hasty glance around, however, a voice, -seemingly close to his ear, said, "Enough! go on;" and obeying, as he -had done before, he advanced along the gallery to the end. There was -no possibility of mistaking his way; for, with a sharp turn to the -left, the passage led to the top of another flight of stone steps, -down which he went, and suddenly found himself close to the top of the -well-staircase, which he had descended more than once before, but on -the other side. His way was now clear before him, and entering the -serfs' burial-vault, he hurried on, pausing not for a moment to look -at the various ghastly objects it contained, till he reached the door -leading to the crypt of the chapel. Going in amongst the wilderness of -tombs and monuments within, he hastened forward towards the door at -the other end, when a voice suddenly called to him, - -"Ferdinand of Altenburg! gay bridegroom, whither away?" and a long, -wild laugh rang through the pillared arches. - -He started, and turned round. The sounds appeared to come from an old -tomb, on which stood a figure in chain mail. The right hand extended, -seemed pointing at him with its truncheon; and Ferdinand fancied that -he saw it move; but though he advanced straight towards it, the figure -remained still and motionless, and on touching it he felt that it was -marble. Raising the lamp above his head, till the flame almost touched -the arch that sprang from the short pillar at his side, he gazed -forward into the gloom, but nothing was apparent; and the instant -after, the flame was suddenly blown out, and he felt himself grasped -by a strong hand on either side. He strove to free himself by a quick, -sharp struggle; but in vain. The two hands held him as if the fingers -had been of iron, and a superstitious awe, mingling with apprehensions -of a more tangible character, perhaps, deprived him of some of his -strength and agility. Not a word was spoken while he strove in that -vice-like grasp, and even when he desisted from his useless efforts, -all remained dull and silent. There seemed something very terrible to -his fancy in being thus fixed, as it were by a power that he could not -resist, to one spot, in darkness and in silence. "In the name of -Heaven!" he exclaimed at length, "who are you?" - -"We are friendly," said a voice, "to you, and to your race, if we are -foes to all other earthly beings. Come, and come quietly, for we will -guide you to safety;" and at the same time the hands that held him -forced him gently forward, through parts of the vault he had never -explored. They went slowly, and well they might, for everything before -them was as dark as the pit of Acheron; but yet they seemed never to -miss their way, and as they advanced, no halt, no stumble took place; -no sound of footfall upon the damp earth of the vault was heard. It -seemed long to Ferdinand, though perhaps the time that passed was -really not more than five minutes, ere a sudden pause was made, and a -door opened, for he could feel the free air blow upon his face, and a -pale light began to shine under the arches where he stood. The next -instant something like a large mantle was thrown over him, and the -hood drawn far down upon his face; and then, still held fast by either -arm, he was hurried forth into the open air. He thought he crossed a -court of the castle, and then went through another arched passage, but -he could not see, for the night was dark, and the cowl over his eyes. -But then, again, he felt that he was passing through the wood, for the -ground became rough and uneven, the wind rattled through the leaves, -and every now and then a thin branch struck him as he passed. Rapidly -down the side of the hill they went upon their way; and now he could -hear the footfall of several others besides his own; at length, -however, they stopped again, and a wild neigh just before them gave -notice that a horse was near at hand. The voice which had before -spoken, now said aloud, "Watch, and be ready," and all remained silent -for nearly half an hour. - -Ferdinand would fain have questioned those who held him in their -hands, but at the first word he uttered, the voice replied, in a low, -stern tone, "Peace, if you would live!" In two or three minutes after, -a rapid step was heard; and then a voice, which seemed to Ferdinand -very like the rough and inharmonious tongue of the Baron of Eppenfeld, -exclaimed, "Ay, here's the horse. He has kept his word;" but then, -again, the voice which had spoken before, exclaimed, "Now!" There was -a sound of rushing through the trees, a brief struggle, a few -smothered curses, and then the words. "Bring him along!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - - -Feeble and faint, with every nerve unstrung, with a swimming brain and -a heavy heart, Adelaide of Ehrenstein unclosed her eyes after a long -period of unconsciousness--how long she knew not; but it was evident -that a considerable time most have passed since thought had left her, -for she was now in a small room with an arched, stone roof, and a long -pointed window. The sole furniture it contained was a stool, a table -bearing a crucifix and a closed book, and the pallet on which she lay. -"Where am I?" she asked herself, as her mind still wandered wildly -over the past; and for an instant the impression was--for it cannot be -called thought--that her father had executed his threat, and sent her -to the convent of the Black Nuns at Würtzburg. The next moment, -however, recollection returned more fully; her flight from the castle; -her stay at the chapel; her journey through the wood, and then the -horrible sight she had witnessed on the drawbridge, all flashed back -upon memory, and with a sudden cry, as if of pain, she pressed her -hand upon her eyes. - -But Adelaide was not alone, as she thought; and the movement that she -made showed those who watched her that she had revived. Instantly the -well-known voice of Father George, low, but still rich and clear, said -in her ear, "You are deluding yourself, my child. You are grieving -without cause. He is safe and well, and far from the castle." - -Adelaide started up and gazed at him with a look of doubt, mingled -with reproach. Then shaking her head sadly, she burst into tears, -saying, "I saw--I saw but too well! Why try to deceive me?" - -"Nay daughter, I deceive you not," answered the monk, gravely; "'tis -you deceive yourself. Think you that in these dark times the axe can -fall on none other but him you love?" - -"It is true, indeed, lady," said the voice of Bertha. "It was not your -husband. It was Martin of Dillberg whom they put to death. I spoke -with the lay brother, myself, who brought the news." - -Adelaide clasped her hands together, and looked up to heaven, with -reviving hope in her eyes; but then, bending down her head again, she -murmured to herself, "Now, God forgive me that I should so rejoice. -There must have been some who loved him, too,--some whose heart must -now be as cold as mine was." - -"But few," answered the monk; "he perished well meriting his fate; and -we may reasonably rejoice that the innocent have not suffered instead -of the guilty. Take heart, then, my child; for this illness of yours -has already been most unfortunate, and I must go to see how the evil -can be remedied." - -"But is it true, is it quite true, Father?" said Adelaide, grasping -his robe. "He is safe? Oh, assure me of it! Nay, look not stern, good -Father: you know not how the heart that loves as mine does doubts all -things, fears all things, when there is danger to the beloved. I know -what you would say; but when I am ready to suspect the evidence of my -own senses, to think that my eyes and ears deceive me, you must have -some compassion if I hardly can believe the voice of one whom I -venerate." - -"I make allowance, my child," said the monk; "but yet you do not -reason well of these things. Were he not safe, mine would be another -task--to console and to mourn with you. Be assured, then. But now I -must leave you; for though he is safe, you are not; and for your -safety I must provide." - -Thus saying, he left her; and Adelaide again and again questioned -Bertha as to the fate of Ferdinand; but all she could learn amounted -only to the fact, that a lay brother of the abbey had gone up to -Ehrenstein at dawn, and, mingling with the people of the castle, had -witnessed the execution of Martin of Dillberg on the drawbridge. But -of all sceptics, fear is the foremost; and no sooner was the lady -fully convinced that the terrible scene she had witnessed had no -reference to her young husband, than immediately new terrors arose. -She fancied that the execution of Ferdinand might merely be delayed; -that her father might still perpetrate the deed he had threatened; -that at that very moment the axe might be raised to smite him; and she -argued that her own flight would only render the Count more -relentless, if her lover remained behind. As she thus lay and thought, -the sound of horses' feet was heard as they passed at no great -distance from the cell; and, raising her head, she listened, saying to -herself, "Perhaps they bring tidings;" but the sounds continued some -time, till at length they died away from the ear. It was evident that -horses were going away from, not arriving at, the abbey. Then came the -blast of a trumpet from no great distance, and then the murmur of -voices, rising and falling, as of people speaking vehemently, but far -off. Shortly after, Father George returned, and with him the abbot, -whom Adelaide had often seen before; a man far advanced in life, but -of a stiff, unbending character. - -"How goes it with you, now, daughter?" he said, seating himself on the -stool by her side. "I have ordered some poor refreshments to be -brought you, that you may pursue your journey with more strength; for -I am sorry to say, this is no place of sure refuge. Your father's men -are seeking you already, and have been even now at the gates. Luckily, -the brother who answered them knew not that you were here, and -answered, boldly, 'No;'--for which he shall have absolution; but if it -be discovered that you are within our walls, we cannot refuse to give -you up at the Count's demand; for, although his haughty tone and -frequent offences against the church would well warrant, in my poor -judgment, a flat refusal, yet we poor monks meet with but little -protection; and though we can, thank God! defend ourselves well, in -case of need, yet the Imperial Court would leave us with our loss and -damage, if we gave even a pretext for his aggression. I have heard his -haughty words, however, and his threats to burn the abbey; but he may -find its stones a stumbling-block at which he may fall down." - -"I am ready to go, when you will, Father," answered Adelaide, turning -an anxious look to Father George; "but, if they be searching for me, -whither shall I fly?" - -"You must wait a while, my child," replied the monk, to whom the words -were really addressed, rather than to the abbot. "It is not the -intention of our noble and reverend father, the lord abbot here, to -send you forth without all care for your security." - -"But my good brother," said the abbot, "if these men return--" - -"We will send them back with such answer as they deserve," replied the -monk, boldly; for although mild and gentle in manner, and by no means -so stern and rigid as the abbot himself, there was, in times of need -and danger, that vigour and decision in the character of Father George -which always rules weaker and less resolute spirits. At first the -abbot, transferred from a distant priory, had struggled against his -influence; and Father George had made no apparent effort to maintain -it; but gradually, as years went by, and difficulties arose, the -superior yielded more and more to one who seemed to yield most to him, -and the rule of the mere monk over the present abbot had become more -powerful than it had even been with Abbot Waldimer. - -After a brief discussion, then, it was agreed that Adelaide should -remain at the abbey till the hour of noon, when, with a shrewd -calculation of the habits of his countrymen, Father George judged that -lord and vassal, leader and follower, would all have occupations of a -kind they would not willingly forego. He thought it possible, indeed, -that ere that hour a new demand might be made at their gate for the -restoration of the lady to her father's power; but he was firm in his -purposes, and doubted not so to use his authority in the abbey, as to -commit the abbot to a decided refusal, from which, once given, he knew -that the old man would not depart. Neither did he fear the result; for -the sound of horses' feet, which Adelaide had heard, was but an -indication of preparations for defence against any sudden attack; and -vassals and retainers were already flocking in to support, with the -strong hand, if need should be, a community who were generally kind -and gentle masters, if not always safe and pleasant neighbours. - -Father George also reckoned a good deal upon the presence of Count -Frederick of Leiningen at Ehrenstein, to ward off any immediate -collision between the castle and the abbey; for that prince, though -vigorous and decided in character, was reverential towards the church, -and adverse at all times to violence; and, in the mean time, he took -care that from one of those high towers of the building which I have -alluded to, as being seen over the trees from the walls of Ehrenstein, -a keen watch should be kept upon the gate of the castle, that the -brethren might not be attacked unawares. Every five minutes, a -messenger came down from the clear-sighted watcher, to convey to the -abbot and Father George tidings of all that had been observed; and -thus party after party of the followers of the Count of Ehrenstein -were reported to have returned to the stronghold, and passed the -drawbridge. Father George mused and calculated, till at length, -turning suddenly to the abbot, as the clock struck ten, he said, -"There cannot now be more than five of the men of Ehrenstein out. It -were as well the lady departed at once; she can be guarded by those -who brought her hither, and, passing unseen through the woods, will -run no risk." - -The abbot rubbed his hands slowly together, and then replied, "Good, -good, brother George. Far from me to refuse the lady Adelaide refuge -and hospitality; but when once she is beyond the walls, then let her -proud father bluster if he dare." - -"He will not be proud long, my noble lord," replied Father George; -"there are reverses preparing for him which he dreams not of; and you -may ere long see him humbled at your feet." - -"Then will I receive him with fatherly tenderness," said the old man, -with a look full of, what he thought, humility; but in which, perhaps, -a clearer eye might have discovered no small pride. - -Father George, however, hastened at once to the cell in what was -called the stranger's lodging, where Adelaide still remained with -Bertha; but on his entrance the maid held up her hand, and pointed to -her mistress, who, worn out with watching, anxiety, and grief, had -fallen into a brief slumber. The beautiful eyes were closed; the long, -dark, silken lashes rested on the fair cheek, now pale with weariness -and sleep; the head fell gracefully on the shoulder, and the soft -white hand dropped over the side of the pallet. It was a lovely sight -to look upon; and for a moment Father George paused and gazed, with -strange emotions. His heart, bound down by icy chains to a solitary, -unsocial life, yearned for a child like that. He asked himself--Is it -well for man in any class, in any state, to live alone?--to cut -himself off from the dearest, the highest, the holiest associations of -our nature? Can he really feel and sympathize with human beings?--Can -he retain all the perceptions, all the qualities of the heart and mind -with which God first endowed him,--to bless, and to be blessed? Is he, -in the full sense of the word, a man, if he do not exercise the -rights, and fulfil, the duties, of a man? To extinguish hope and -aspiration, to shut out love and affection, to separate ourselves from -joy and sorrow, to put an icy bar between our bosoms and every warm -feeling of our fellows--is this to live? - -But the monk indulged hardly a moment in such thoughts. They flashed -across his mind, and were then banished; but they made him feel that -he was not a monk at heart; and gently and tenderly waking Adelaide -from her slumber, he told her what was proposed for her; adding, in a -low tone, "I have certain intelligence that he is safe and free." - -The lady rose joyfully, exclaiming, "And shall I see him, then, soon?" - -"His steps and thine, my child, are bent in the same path," answered -Father George; "and doubtless he will reach the bourne before thee. -But we must be speedy. Are you refreshed and ready?" - -"Quite, quite," answered Adelaide; "those tidings, dear Father, are -better than wine or medicine either. Let us go. Come, Bertha, are you -ready?" - -"Ay, good lack!" answered the gay girl, who had now somewhat recovered -her light spirits; "I am ready, since it must be so; but yet I am -never very willing to exchange a comfortable roof and good provision -for the bare road and acorn woods; but let us go, lady. It is as well -to do what is to be done with a good grace; and now Heaven send us -forty miles from Ehrenstein ere night." - -No long time was required to prepare; the nuns' gowns, which had been -laid aside on account of the warmth of the day, were soon resumed; the -hoods were drawn over the heads of the two girls, and, led by Father -George, they went out into the great court of the abbey, where not -only a number of monks were walking to and fro, some in meditation, -some in busy talk, but a large party of armed men also were seated -under an arcade that ran along one side, busily eating and drinking, -and laughing with merriment somewhat dissonant to the grave solemnity -of the scene. - -Father George spoke to none; but walking rapidly across, opened a door -under the cloister, and held it wide till Adelaide and Bertha had -passed through. Then locking it behind him, he crossed a lesser court, -and thence led the two girls into what seemed a wing of the abbey. -That there were high towers of Gothic stone-work rising above them, -they clearly saw; but after passing along a narrow, vaulted passage, -with rich tracery upon the roof and in the windows which flanked it on -the left, their guide paused at a low door, covered with iron plates -and large-headed nails, or bosses. By the side of the door stood a -stone bench or coffer, and on it lay several tapers, not yet lighted, -and a lamp already burning. Father George, before he proceeded -farther, lighted three of the candles at the lamp, and giving one to -each of his companions, he took a key from his girdle, and put it in -the lock. He was, as we have described him, a hale, strong old man, -but to move that door required the exertion of all his powers; and -when at length it was thrown back, it exposed to view the entrance of -a dark cavern or passage in the rock, which rose gradually from the -back of the building. - -"Be not afraid," said the monk to Adelaide; "the horses and men are -waiting for you in the wood at the end of this hollow. I feared that -from the watch-tower of the castle they might see women's garments -flutter, if you went out by any of the gates, and that would instantly -raise suspicion. By this road you may pass unseen for miles, till you -are beyond all pursuit." - -"I fear not, I fear not, holy Father," answered Adelaide; and while -Bertha murmured to herself, "But I do, mightily," they went on upon -their way. - -The cavern--which, though perhaps a part was nature's handiwork, -displayed evidently the traces of man's labour also--extended for -perhaps three or four hundred yards, and then terminated at another -door, beyond which they found the dark woods sweeping round, and a -spur of the mountain hiding the spot completely from the valley above -which Ehrenstein was situated. Immediately beneath the door by which -they issued forth was a slight descent, where broken fragments of -rock, tumbled about in all directions, concealed from all but very -curious eyes the entrance of the passage to the abbey; and below that -again, was a small green area, surrounded by tall trees, in which was -collected a number of men and horses. - -Adelaide and Bertha were soon mounted, the armed men sprang into the -saddle, Father George bestowed his blessing upon the young heiress of -Ehrenstein, and the word was given to depart, when Bertha, turning her -head, exclaimed, "At least tell us whither we are going to, Father, as -you go not with us." - -"To Heiligenstein," answered the monk. "There you will find a place -prepared for you;" and, approaching Adelaide's side, he added, "I -forgot, in all the hurry of this day to tell you, my dear daughter, -that till you hear more from me, for your own security and that of him -you love, conceal carefully your name and rank; your young husband has -been cautioned, but you must not forget to be careful." - -"I will not," answered Adelaide; "and indeed it will be joyful to me -to repose for a time even as a poor country maiden." - -"A maiden!" said Father George with a smile; "nay, you must not forget -you are a wife." - -The colour rose warm in Adelaide's cheek; and, without reply, she rode -on, musing. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - - -The glorious sun and the free air of heaven, the blue arch above, the -green fresh world around, the face of man, the sweet human voice, -greeted the senses of Martin of Dillberg for the last time. The -chaplain of Count Frederick had been with him for some hours; but his -voice had made no impression. He would neither confess that he had -offended, nor acknowledge the justice of his sentence. Sullen and -dogged, though evidently terrified and cowed, he remained either -obstinately silent, or murmured low curses to himself, till he was -brought out from his place of imprisonment, and led towards the -drawbridge. Glaring round, with eyes at once fearful and fierce, he -soon perceived the retainers of Ehrenstein guarding the gates, and the -soldiers of Leiningen in possession of the drawbridge; while on the -right, at a little distance, stood Count Frederick, with his arms -sternly folded on his chest, and surrounded by several of his knights. -In front was a large beam of wood, with a tall, powerful man, bare -armed, leaning on an axe. The youth shuddered; but with the bitter and -malicious spirit still strong in his bosom, which had been his bane -through life, he looked round for Ferdinand of Altenburg, who, he -doubted not, was to share his fate. He saw him nowhere; but he -remarked that the chaplain went up to Count Frederick, on a sign, and -that his lord spoke eagerly a few words which he could not hear. They -were, "Has he shown contrition? Has he confessed and repented?" - -"Alas! no, my good lord," replied the chaplain; "yet it is a pity that -one so young--" - -"It is," said the Count, musing; "were there a hope--but this is now -the third time, and hope is gone. Nevertheless--" - -But ere he could conclude the sentence, the voice of Martin of -Dillberg was heard exclaiming, bitterly, "I see not the man who is -more guilty than I am. Where is that Ferdinand of Altenburg? Let me -see him die first; or will you spare him, and murder me?" - -An expression of high scorn and indignation came over the face of -Count Frederick as he heard those words, and pointing to the criminal, -he said, "To the block with him--there is no hope!" - -The trumpet sounded; they drew him on, and bade him kneel; but when he -saw the axe and the bare-armed executioner, his heart failed him, and -he drew back and trembled violently. - -"Down, coward!" said an old soldier behind him; but yet even that -contemptuous word had not power to goad him to assume a daring that -was not really in his breast; and still he held back, and gazed wildly -at the instrument of his death. The priest advanced to his side, and -whispered some words in his ear--they were words of hope and promise -for a world to come; but all the unhappy youth's thoughts were fixed -on this life, even at the moment he was quitting it; and he murmured, -"I will confess--I will pray for pardon!" - -"It is in vain," said the chaplain; "your own words but now, have -destroyed you. The Count is gone, and you must die." - -Martin of Dillberg looked round; but Count Frederick was no longer -there; and at the same moment the hands of some of those who had -been his companions, but not his friends--he had no friend amongst -them--seized him, and bent him down to the block. Then all withdrew -for a few steps, except the priest, who still stood by his side, -addressing to his dull unlistening ear the words of holy exhortation. -There was a movement in the youth's limbs, as if he would fain have -risen again; but then the trumpet sounded again, the heavy axe fell -hard upon his neck, and at that one blow, the head, smote off, rolled -upon the drawbridge. - -The men around were used to sights of blood, to daily peril, and to -the image of death; but still there were various feelings amongst -them. None murmured, it is true,--all admitted that his fate was just, -and that he had been pardoned but too often. Some sternly said, it was -a good deed done, and turned away contented; but others felt a -sensation of awe, and even of pain, at witnessing the violent death of -one so young, though brought about by acts of craft and wickedness -beyond his years. Count Frederick remained in his own chamber for some -time alone, and in deep meditation; and when at length he came forth, -his cheek was pale, and his whole air sad. - -He had but taken three steps in the corridor, however, when he was -roused from the reverie in which he seemed plunged, by the agitation -and bustle which might be observed in the castle. Persons were passing -up and down the great stairs; doors were opening and closing; there -was a sound of trampling horses in the court-yard, and many voices -speaking; but above all rose the tones of the Count of Ehrenstein, -apparently in anger. Further on, towards the other end of the wide -passage, Count Frederick beheld his own page apparently listening to -the mingled din; and so occupied was the boy that he did not perceive -his lord had quitted his chamber, till the Count called him to him. - -"What is the matter, Albert of Landeck?" asked the nobleman, as the -page ran up at his call; "there seems a strange confusion here." - -"'Tis, my good lord, that the Lady Adelaide has escaped from the -chamber where her father had imprisoned her," answered the boy; "and -no one knows how or whither she has gone. The door was still locked, -they say, and not a trace of her to be found." - -"'Tis a strange place, this castle of Ehrenstein," said Count -Frederick, with a smile; "has my noble friend no suspicion of who has -aided her flight?" - -"I heard him vow but now, that it was the monks from the abbey," -answered the boy; "he sent down, an hour ago, it seems, to one Father -George, at the chapel we passed yesterday in the wood, requiring his -presence to shrive Ferdinand of Altenburg; but no monk was to be found -there; and so he thinks it must have been he who has spirited the lady -away." - -"I will go down and speak with him," said Count Frederick; and, -descending the stairs, he found his host, with heated look, and fiery -words, urging his horsemen, who were mounting as rapidly as possible, -to more speed. - -"Quick, fool, quick!" he cried to one; "will you have never done that -buckling of the girth? Away, by the upper road, to Anweiler. They -cannot be far. Take the road to the left, as soon as you top the hill, -and sweep round through the woods, meeting Mosbach by the blacksmith's -forge. You, Seckendorf, with four or five more, to the abbey at once, -and demand the lady of the abbot, in her father's name. Tell him, as -sure as the sun shines in heaven, I will burn his monkery about his -ears, if he conceals her. You, Adolph, track along the stream, letting -some of the men dismount and look for the prints of horses' feet. If -you can find any, follow them. Quick to the saddle to the saddle; a -minute, more or less, may save or ruin all. Ha! my noble friend. This -is a sad and terrible thing; my daughter fled, and no clue or tidings -of her!" - -"And the youth?" inquired Count Frederick; "can he give you no -information? He, most likely, has some knowledge of her means of -escape. Doubtless, the probable necessity of such a step was -calculated on beforehand." - -"Ha! in my anxiety I forgot him," cried the Count; "true, true--I will -have it from his heart--I will put him to the torture. Go, bring -Ferdinand of Altenburg hither to the great hall. We will have him in -the great hall, Count Frederick. He feared it not in old times; now he -shall have cause to fear." - -Thus saying, he led the way, while his friend followed, the party -being swelled by the jester, the chaplain, and one or two of Count -Frederick's attendants, as they went. What it was that Herr von Narren -said to those who followed, the two noblemen did not hear; but just as -they reached the door of the great hall, and while the man, to whom -the Count had given his orders respecting Ferdinand, was drawing back -the bolts on the other side of the vestibule, a loud laugh, in which -even the priest joined, though not so vociferously as the rest, struck -harshly on the Count of Ehrenstein's ear; and flinging back the door -of the hall, he took three steps in. Then, however, he stopped -suddenly, and gazed with haggard eyes before, around, above him. Count -Frederick also looked with an expression of wonder round the walls; -and, in truth, it was a strange sight that presented itself. The -banners were all gone; the green bows and chaplets of flowers, -wreaths, and coronets, were no longer seen; but on every banner-pole -hung a mouldy shroud, and each thick column was covered with a pall. - -"In Heaven's name! what is this?" exclaimed Count Frederick; "'tis a -strange way of tricking out your hall, Ehrenstein." - -"'Tis for the bridal! 'tis for the bridal, uncle!" cried the jester. - -"What bridal, fool?" cried the Count of Ehrenstein, fiercely, -remembering only the hated union between his daughter and Ferdinand of -Altenburg. - -"Why, the bridal between the worm and the corpse," answered the -jester; "there are few more merry weddings; but what is that on the -chair of state? It looks marvellous like a pillow after a man's nose -has bled in the night." - -Count Frederick advanced with a quick step, and his host followed with -a pale cheek. The object which had attracted the jester's notice -proved to be a blood-stained coat of arms, cut and torn in many -places, and on it lay a strip of parchment inscribed with the words, -"Wilhelm, Count of Ehrenstein--summoned--judged--condemned.--Death." - -"What is all this, my friend?" asked Count Frederick; "you seem to -decorate your hall somewhat strangely." - -But as he spoke, there was a hurried step upon the pavement behind; -and the man who had been sent to bring Ferdinand before his lord, -approached, exclaiming, "He is not there, my lord. The door was fast -locked--not a bolt drawn; but he is gone. Food and wine are there, as -if he had fared well before he went, but not a trace of him can I -find." - -"Wise young man," cried the jester, "he walks after supper. 'Tis a -wholesome practice, and in his case peculiarly preservative of health. -He must have a good physician." - -The Count of Ehrenstein folded his arms upon his chest; and gazing on -the bystanders, murmured, "I am betrayed." Then turning to the chair -again, he fixed his eyes upon the soiled coat of arms, raised the slip -of parchment, read it, and threw it down again, turning to his guest -and saying, "Who can have done all this? I know nought of it. I deck -not my hall with shrouds, nor set free my own prisoners. Who can have -done this?" - -"Nay, it is very strange!" answered Count Frederick. "It would take a -man hours to spread these out. Good faith! I love not the -neighbourhood of such dark mysteries,--and the youth gone, too! I -wonder if our friend of Eppenfeld is safe; for in truth, my noble -friend, your doors seem not the most secure." - -"We will send and see," replied the Count of Ehrenstein; but the -reader is already aware of what must have been the result of the -search. The Baron of Eppenfeld was not to be found; and with a -somewhat heavy brow Count Frederick exclaimed, "He must be taken! -Alone, on foot, and without money, he cannot go far--he must be taken, -Ehrenstein." - -"Good faith! my noble friend, I would willingly help you," answered -his host; "but I have, as you well know, matters on hand that touch me -nearer far; and all the men I can spare must be absent, seeking for -this undutiful girl and her perfidious paramour. Doubtless these monks -are the movers in all this; and I will burn their abbey about their -ears, unless I find her speedily." - -"No, no; oh, no!" cried the Count of Leiningen. "No such rash -violence, Ehrenstein. You may suspect much, but can prove nought -against them." - -"I can prove that one of them wedded my daughter to my sworn -follower," cried the Count, "secretly, by stealth, and at an unlawful -hour. He knew right well what he was doing, and he shall pay the -penalty." - -"Take counsel, take counsel," exclaimed the jester, "and I will show -you a far better way to punish this meddling priest. Force him to -marry a wife himself; and he will repent in sack-cloth, I will -warrant." - -"You have no proof of the fact, as far as I have heard," said Count -Frederick, "and you may bring yourself into great danger. But 'tis no -affair of mine. I will attach myself to find this Baron of Eppenfeld; -and he will lie closer than a hind beside her fawn, or I will find -him." - -"Perchance, in seeking him, you may find what would be to me a far -more precious thing," replied the Count of Ehrenstein; "and I am sure -that, in honour and good fellowship, if you should meet with either my -rebellious child, or he who has seduced her from obedience to her -father, you will send them back to me at once." - -Count Frederick mused for an instant without reply, and then said, -"Nay, not at once, Ehrenstein. Should they fall into my hands, I would -fain give you time to let your wrath subside, and judge the case of -Ferdinand of Altenburg more calmly." - -"He or I shall die," answered the Count, sternly, interrupting his -guest. - -"But not without fair and free trial, if I have him in my custody," -replied Count Frederick, firmly; "that, at least, I will secure to -him. We are all the slaves of our passions, Ehrenstein; and when we -find an angry spirit stirring within us, we should take sureties -against ourselves. For that reason was it that, in judging the guilty -youth who died this morning, I called to my aid as many free and -impartial voices as I could find. You do so too. At all events, if I -take the youth, you shall have no cause to complain that justice is -not done upon him. You shall have every means and every aid to prove -the charge, and then to deal with him according to the laws and -customs of the land." - -"Good faith!" said the jester, "then shall he have hard measure and -short time; for the laws are bitter enough, and the customs are -expeditious. Thank Heaven! we nobles and jesters are above the laws." - -"Not so," answered Count Frederick, while his host stood gloomy beside -him, not very well contented with the restricted promise he had -received; "there are laws for nobles and even for jesters, Herr von -Narren." - -"Doubtless, doubtless, uncle," said the other; "I said not that there -were not laws for all: I only said that we are above them; and that is -true, as I can prove. First, the noble is so high above the law, that, -long as is the arm of justice, it can never reach him. Secondly, so -far is the law beneath the noble, that every day he tramples it under -his feet." - -"Too true, I fear," answered his lord. "But hark, Ehrenstein! I hear -some of your people returning. Let us see what success they have had. -Perchance they have caught the fugitives." - -It was soon found, however, that no success had been obtained. The -persons whom Count Frederick had heard passing the drawbridge were not -of those who had been sent in pursuit of Adelaide; but ere an hour was -over, two or three who had visited the abbey came back with the -tidings that the monks denied the lady had taken refuge there, but -threatened loudly in regard to some violence shown by the Count's men -to the windows of the chapel in the wood. The messenger added, that -they seemed angry enough about something; for he saw vassals and -tenants coming in armed, and horsemen sent out as if to call for -further assistance. Other parties returned soon after, but yet no -intelligence arrived Of the fair fugitive; and the Count of Ehrenstein -mused in silence, perhaps not quite so well contented as he would have -wished to appear, that he could not take his measures unnoticed by the -eyes of one whose frank and generous spirit, and calmer and more -elevated mind, acted as a check upon him. Count Frederick, however, -did not, or would not, see that his presence was in any degree a -burden. He remained with his host, sometimes musing as he mused, -sometimes counselling, sometimes discussing; or busied himself in -ordering preparations for the pursuit of the Baron of Eppenfeld, by -parties of his own band. - -In the mean while, the jester kept close to the side of his lord and -the Count of Ehrenstein; but he too seemed buried in deep reveries; -and at length the last-named nobleman, as if in a fit of impatience, -turned round, exclaiming, "Well, Herr von Narren, what do you meditate -so profoundly? It is to find that one wilful girl can baffle so many -experienced men?" - -"No, good lord," replied the jester, "it is rather to find that so -many experienced men have not wit to take the means at hand for -catching one truant girl." - -"What would you?" cried the Count. "What means have I left untried?" - -"There was once an old woman who lost a piece of money," said the -jester, "and she looked all day for it in every part of her house, -except her own pocket. Now the Lord of Ehrenstein is just like the old -woman, for he looks for the lady in every part of the country except -his own castle, which is just as good a place for hiding a rich thing -as the old woman's pocket." - -"By my honour! he says true," exclaimed Count Frederick; "all these -three missing ones may even now be within a few yards of us, as far as -I have seen any search made." - -"I have had all the rooms above stairs well examined," replied the -Count of Ehrenstein, thoughtfully; "except, indeed, your own, my noble -friend; and there I did not dream that any one could be concealed. The -mystery is, how these doors have been opened, the fugitives brought -forth, and all made fast again. That there is treachery somewhere, no -one can doubt; and those who released them from confinement would -doubtless assist them in flight." - -"That might not be so easy," replied Count Frederick; "but at all -events let us search. There seem chambers and passages enough, here -below, to hide a baron's train. It is quite possible they might find -their way forth from the chambers where they were confined, and yet -not be able to escape from the castle." - -"That is a tempting door," said the jester, pointing to that which -appeared at the end of the hall near the chair of state. "The youth -Ferdinand, when we were sitting here together watching the cold pies, -lest the mice should make houses of them, talked familiarly of that -door, and of the place beyond." - -"Ha!" cried the Count of Ehrenstein, "said he that he had ever been -there?" - -"Nay, not so," replied the jester, "but he told me that it led to -vaults, and to the serfs' burial-place,--very awful vaults, indeed, my -noble lord, where nobody would venture; and he hinted how terrible -deeds had been done there, which had begotten many ghosts. I am not -sure he did not speak of devils too; but he was marvellous conversant -with all that the place contained; and his was a bold heart, just fit -to trust himself with spirits, good or bad." - -"Come," cried the Count hastily, "we will search;" but he led the way -from the door which had been the theme of the jester's conversation, -and, followed by several attendants, examined carefully every part of -the building which had not been searched before, till he came to the -door of the great hall again; but there he paused, and seemed -unwilling to go farther. - -"Let us on, Ehrenstein," said Count Frederick, "and make the work -complete by looking through these vaults." - -"They are not there," answered the Count, in a hesitating tone; "I -feel sure they would not venture." - -"What, not Ferdinand of Altenburg!" exclaimed Count Frederick; "I -would gage a county against a flask of Ingelheim, that he would -venture into an open grave sooner than any man should say he was -afraid. I am some judge of men's courage; and few things would daunt -that lad. If he knew that other men feared to tread those vaults, 'tis -the very reason he would seek refuge there." - -The Count of Ehrenstein mused for a moment. There was truth in what -his friend said; and he remembered, too, how little dread his daughter -had seemed to feel in trusting herself where others were afraid to -stay for even a few minutes. There, too, in that very hall, she had -been alone for some hours with Ferdinand of Altenburg; and the hope of -finding them together in the gloomy asylum beyond, and punishing one -at least upon the spot, filled him with a fierce kind of pleasure; but -yet he hesitated. "I know not," he said, "but I doubt much, my noble -friend, that we shall find anyone to aid the search. All men here -dread that place. Even this hall they hold in terror, from their -superstitious fancies. Did you not see how, when the messenger came to -tell me the answer of these daring monks, he flurried away like -lightning as soon as his errand was told?" - -"Nay, what matters it how many there be?" asked his guest. "Here are -you and I, and our friend Herr von Narren, who, I will answer for it, -fears as little as we do." - -"Oh, I am quite ready, uncle," cried the jester, "though I fear -horribly; but fools are privileged against ghosts; and as your band -has no lack of fools, I think I can get three or four others to bear -us company, though, doubtless, we shall have rare trembling and -shaking as we walk along. There's Henry of Geisen, and his inseparable -Fritz Munter; they will go. Here, lads, here! we want men who love -knocking their heads against stone walls. Here is an enterprise worthy -of you." - -Henry of Geisen was ready to go wherever his lord went, and Fritz -Munter would go wherever Henry of Geisen turned his steps. Two or -three more were collected, who, though it cannot be said they showed -no fear--for every one looked somewhat dull when the vaults were -mentioned--did not hang back; and torches being procured, the Count of -Ehrenstein, with a heavy brow and teeth hard set, approached the -little door on the left of the dais. It was fixed as firm, however, as -a piece of the wall, and did not seem to have been opened for years. - -"Stay," said the Count, who, having made his mind up to the -examination, would not now be disappointed; "I will bring the keys." - -When he returned, Count Frederick, who had been looking steadfastly at -the pile of dust which time had accumulated before the door, pointed -to the ground, saying, "There is a footmark." - -"That is mine," cried the jester, setting his broad square cut shoe -upon it. "I defy you to match that for a neat, tiny, little foot, in -all the castle." - -But the very fact of a footmark being so near the door confirmed the -Count in his resolution of going on; and after some trouble, for the -key was rusty with neglect, the door was opened, and a torch held up -to light the way. On the whole party went, along the stone passage, -down the well stairs, and then into the vault; but here it seemed as -if all the noxious beasts of the place had leagued together to oppose -their passage. Hundreds of bats flapped through the air, and, dazzled -by the torches, swept close past the faces of the intruders; enormous -toads, bloated and slow, crept across the ground; two or three large -snakes darted away, hissing and showing their forked tongues; long -earth-worms, and hideous orange slugs, wriggled or crawled along the -path; and a large mole cricket dashed itself in the eyes of one of the -men, making him start back in terror. - -Not a word passed the lips of the Count of Ehrenstein; but, instead of -going straight forward, he led the way to the left, and made, by a -circuitous course, for the side of the crypt under the chapel. Through -it, too, he passed rapidly, till he reached the door leading out upon -the hill, which he tried, and found fast locked and bolted. - -"Now," he cried, "if they are here, we have them safe;" and he then -applied himself to make his companions spread out and sweep the whole -width of the vaults on the way back, so that the torches might light -every part of the space--he himself keeping on the extreme right. But -this he found difficult to accomplish: the men loved not to be -separated; and only Count Frederick and the jester would take the -places assigned to them,--the others keeping close together, and -following one or other of the three. The torch-light, too, lost itself -in the old darkness of the place, as soon as, having quitted the -crypt, where the windows afforded some light, however dim, they -entered the wider vaults where the serfs were buried; and often one -person stopped, or another, as they went along, examining the various -objects that met their eyes. The Count of Ehrenstein himself paused at -a door on his right, and looked to ascertain that it was fastened; but -he soon resumed his advance again, and had nearly reached the other -side, when a voice, loud and commanding, suddenly cried, "Stand!" - -Every one started, and there was a dead silence for an instant. - -"Who spoke there?" demanded the Count of Ehrenstein. "Leiningen, was -it you?" - -"Not I," exclaimed Count Frederick. "It seemed to come from your -side." - -"I heard it on both sides," said the jester; "but that is natural, -having two ears." - -"Who spoke?" again asked the Count of Ehrenstein, raising his voice; -but no one answered, and Count Frederick took a step forward. The next -moment he exclaimed, "What, in Heaven's name, is this? Ehrenstein, -Ehrenstein, come hither! What is this?" - -The men crowded up to the spot where the nobleman stood. The Count of -Ehrenstein came more slowly; but when he did come, he found his friend -gazing at the skeleton chained to the stone column. That, however, was -not the only object that met his eyes; for in the bony hand was a long -strip of vellum, falling almost to the ground, and upon it in large -characters, written apparently in blood, was the word "Vengeance!" - -The Count paused, and gazed with his eyes straining from their -sockets, his mouth half open, and his nostrils expanded; while beside -him stood Count Frederick, and behind, the jester, with his eyes bent -upon his lord's entertainer, his lip quivering, and his brow knit into -a dark and ominous frown. All kept silent for some time, and no one -moved, unless indeed it was the jester, whose hand opened and shut -more than once upon the hilt of his dagger. At length Count Frederick -broke the terrible silence, and inquired, "What is this, Ehrenstein?" - -The Count made no reply; and in an instant after he fell back, -senseless, one of the soldiers catching him just as his head was about -to strike the ground. - -"Take him up, and carry him to his chamber," cried Count Frederick; -"we have had enough of this;" and two of the men, raising the body of -the Count, who sighed heavily, bore him on, while his friend followed, -conversing in a low tone with the jester. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - - -"Halt!" cried, at length, the same voice which had more than once -sounded in the ear of Ferdinand of Altenburg, during the eventful -night of his escape from the castle of Ehrenstein, but now speaking in -a louder tone than before; and the hands which still held the arms of -the young fugitive somewhat relaxed their grasp. Ferdinand, however, -had now a more definite idea of the place to which he had been -brought; for during the time they had paused in the wood, and the half -hour which had elapsed since they had resumed their rapid course, he -had had time to collect his thoughts, which at first were confused -with agitation and excitement. As soon as they began to move, he had -perceived that they rapidly descended the hill; and shortly after, -though the cowl was far over his eyes, he caught the glistening of the -river at a few steps' distance. The next minute it became clear that -they were passing over the bridge; and then they threaded tortuous -ways, narrow and overgrown with briars and weeds, which, he was sure, -could only lead to the old castle on the hill opposite to Ehrenstein. - -When, at length, the voice cried "Halt!" as I have said, the young -gentleman felt sure that they must be standing in one of the -grass-grown courts or ruined halls of the dilapidated building. The -stamping noise of tethered and impatient horses, too, was heard; and -many whisperings, as of a number of men speaking in low tones, sounded -around. All was as dark as the pit of Acheron, however; till suddenly -a dull red glare found its way even under the cowl; and, a minute -after, the same voice said aloud, "Bring him forward; leave the -other--he is safe; but bring the last before me." - -The hands which were holding Ferdinand but lightly now withdrew -entirely, and there was a movement around. He profited by his freedom -instantly to raise the hood from his head, and look abroad, when he -found himself, as he had supposed, in the great court of the ruined -castle; but he was, indeed, surprised to find it half filled with men. -Each was cased in armour, like the followers of some feudal baron, and -each had the visor of his helmet down, so that no face was visible; -but in the midst of the party, seated on a mass of fallen stone-work, -with a man holding a lighted torch a little in advance on one side, -and another with a large two-handed sword, naked, on the other, was a -being of gigantic stature, clothed from head to heel in jet black -arms. The gauntlet, the casque, the very plume, were all dark as -night; and a strange effect had the light of that single torch, as it -showed that towering form, glistened upon the bare weapon, which was -the only object that reflected its glare, picked out the black figures -all around, and then, as it faded away in the obscurity beyond, -faintly illumined the crumbling towers and falling walls of the -deserted stronghold. - -But, the instant after, a figure was brought forward before the seated -leader, which at once arrested all Ferdinand's attention; for at a -glance he recognised the Baron of Eppenfeld. - -Even now, though the scene and the circumstances were well calculated -to strike terror even into a bold and resolute heart, the Baron -maintained his air of rude and reckless daring, gazed round the groups -in his neighbourhood, fixed his eyes upon the principal figure, looked -at the swordsman with his naked weapon, and then, with a laugh, -exclaimed, "Well, I am amongst comrades, it seems. We are all of a -feather, doubtless, though I knew not there were so many eagles within -a day's flight of my own eyry." - -"Eagles, kite!" exclaimed the voice of the gigantic figure with the -black plume. "You merit plucking for your insolence in comparing a -carrion fowl like thyself to noble birds. Listen, Baron of Eppenfeld, -and answer before the court of the Black Rider; and mark well all that -thou seest, and all that thou hearest. Look at that sword." - -"I see it," answered the Baron; "it is long and strong, and in a good -hand may do good service." - -"The edge is sharp," replied the voice; "and ere half an hour be over -that edge shall smite thy neck, if thou answerest not, or answerest -untruly, any question that is asked." - -"By the Lord! I am in no mood for answering questions," replied the -Baron of Eppenfeld, who did not seem to apply the idea of death to -himself with any great facility, or who perhaps doubted that the -threat held out to him would be put in execution. - -But the tone of him who spoke speedily removed all doubts. "Well, -then," said the voice, "be it as you say. Kneel down, Baron of -Eppenfeld.--Strike off his head,--but, first, smite the spurs from the -heels of the felon!" - -Before the Baron could turn round, or had time to say another word, -the blow of an axe from some one behind struck away the marks of -knighthood from his heels, the sharpest indignity that man could -suffer in those days; and, while his heart beat, and his cheek grew -red and white, the voice again exclaimed, "Kneel down!" - -"Stay, stay," cried the Baron, now convinced that it was no jest they -practised on him. "What are your questions?" - -"Nay, no covenants," answered the Black Rider. "Here men answer, or do -not answer, all that is asked of them. If they answer, well; they are -safe from harm--if they answer not, they die. Such is my law. Once -more, Wilt thou live or die?" - -"Live, to be sure," cried the Baron. "Think you I would die while -grapes grow beside the Rhine, or the roe deer bounds upon the -mountain? Ask what you will, I will answer." - -"Speak without pause or hesitation, then," said the Black Rider. "If -he falter but at a word, sweep off his head. Now, mark well! Did the -Count of Ehrenstein, some sixteen years ago, send you with your men to -seize, near Ulm, a lady and her child?" - -"He did," replied the Baron; "but 'tis well nigh seventeen years, I -think." - -"Did he give you a bond for the payment, in three years, of two -thousand ducats for the deed?" asked the voice. - -"Ay, did he; and he paid all but two hundred ducats," answered the -Baron; "that, he would not pay till I proved that I had done all that -he required." - -"What more did he require than their mere seizure?" inquired the -voice. - -The Baron hesitated, and the Black Rider instantly exclaimed, "Strike -him on the neck!" The swordsman raised his weapon; but the Baron -exclaimed, "Stay, in Heaven's name! I did but think of all the -matters. They are long gone." - -"What more did he require?" thundered the voice. - -"That I should plunge them in the Danube, as if by accident, and let -them perish there," replied the Baron. - -There was a pause of more than a minute, during which every one -remained profoundly silent, and then the Black Rider demanded, "And -did you do this deed?" - -"No, on my life!" answered the Baron of Eppenfeld. "Nay more, I never -intended to do it. I would have seized them, and kept them in some -secret place, to bring them forth when the time served. But--" - -"Have you the bond?" asked the voice. - -"Two days ago, I could have said Yes," was the Baron's answer; "but -they have sacked and razed my castle, and all the papers--for there -were letters many--have either been taken or burnt." - -"Now, speak the truth," said the Black Rider; "Who has the papers?" - -"Count Frederick of Leiningen had them," answered the Baron; "but, -doubtless, he gave them to his worthy and right noble friend of -Ehrenstein." - -"What became of the child and the mother?" asked the voice again. - -"I cannot tell," replied the captive. "They had received timely -notice, it would seem, of my errand, and had fled ere I reached Ulm; -but I have heard that both died of the fever at Regensburg, not a year -after. It is true, too; for those who told me knew what they said. So -I swore to the Count that they were dead; but because I could bring no -one to prove that they perished in the Danube, he would not pay the -rest, and I kept the bond." - -"Who read to you the Count's letters, and wrote your answers," -inquired his interrogator; "for you are no clerk yourself?" - -"A shaveling--a priest I had with me then," said the Baron. "He had -fled to me from Würtzburg, where he had killed a man in a fray about a -woman; but he is dead now, the good clerk. He drank half a hogshead of -red wine in a week, which made him so sleepy he never woke again." - -"No more of him," cried the voice sternly. "So the mother and the -child died of the fever. Now, speak; Who were they?" - -"Nay, that I know not," said the prisoner. "All I know is what the -Count told me, which was, that she was his dead brother's leman, and -the boy a bastard, whom he did not believe even to be his brother's -child. They wanted money from him, I fancy, on some old written -promise of the last count--a thousand Venetian ducats yearly--so he -told me; and he thought it best to give me two years of the payment, -and have done with it for ever." - -"Is this all you know of this matter?" asked the Black Rider again. - -"All, upon my life!" answered the Baron. "They are both dead--that is -certain; but I had no hand in their death, I will swear upon the holy -cross." The gigantic figure remained motionless and silent for more -than a minute, then waved his hand from right to left with a peculiar -motion. The Baron turned his head, in some doubt whether he should not -see the naked sword behind him taking the same direction towards his -neck; but suddenly the man who held the torch reversed it, pressed the -flaming end upon the ground and the next moment all was darkness. - -Ferdinand of Altenburg had listened in silence to all that had passed. -There were many parts of this long interrogatory in which he felt a -deep interest; but that interest was too keen, too overpowering, to -suffer him, even by a word, to interrupt the course of the questions -and replies. There was an awe upon him--he knew not well why--that -would have kept him silent even had he not been listening eagerly for -every syllable. It seemed as if the secret of his life were in the -words then spoken. Sentence by sentence associated itself with other -things within his knowledge. The scenes of his childhood rose up -before him, the flight in the night from a place, the name of which -had long passed away from memory, but which instantly connected itself -with Ulm, as soon as the word was pronounced. The house at Regensburg, -and that name, too, and the death-bed of his mother when he was yet a -child, with many another incident, breaking from spots in the past -which had before seemed dark, like the sparks of fire wandering about -in the half-extinguished tinder, were all brought up vividly before -the mind's eye, till at length he was almost tempted to exclaim, "You -are wrong. The mother did die, but the boy still lives." He would fain -have asked some questions more; and, just as the torch was -extinguished, he took a step forward, but instantly a hand was laid -upon his arm, not grasping tight as before, but gently; and a voice -whispered in his ear, "Not a word; but follow. A horse is ready for -you, and we must ride far ere break of day." - -Ferdinand scrupled not to obey, for he had been about to act upon -impulse; and a moment's thought showed him that it would be better to -say nothing. Turning, then, with the person who had spoken, and who -still kept his hand lightly upon the young man's arm, he passed -through a part of the crowd, every individual in which remained -profoundly silent, and paused where the other paused, near the old -ruinous gateway, through which the dark masses of the hills and woods -around and below could be faintly seen in the dim night air. Suddenly -there was a sound of moving feet and horses' hoofs; and man after man -passed through the archway, till at length the person beside him said, -"Now!" Ferdinand went on, the other followed; and when they issued -forth, the young man saw a whole troop mounted, a number of horses -held at a little distance, and two standing immediately in front. - -"Go on, and mount," said the voice, in the same low tone. - -Ferdinand advanced, without further question, and put his foot in the -stirrup of the foremost horse. The man who had the bridle in his hand -said nothing, and the young gentleman vaulted into the saddle. His -companion followed, and they then joined the group before them. Two -more horses were next brought forward, other persons mounted, and at -length the tall black figure came forth from the arch of the gate, -leapt upon a charger a full hand higher than any of the rest, and then -riding forward, past all those who were already in the saddle, put -himself at the head of the troop. A signal was given from the front, -the whole body began to move in exact order, and Ferdinand of -Altenburg found himself forming a part of the band of the Black -Huntsman. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - - -Adelaide was sad, though the words of the priest had, in some degree, -allayed the anxiety she felt for him she loved; but yet she was -sad--very sad. There were now other causes of depression weighing down -her mind, which during the fever of apprehension she had not -experienced. She now felt what it was to quit her father's house, a -fugitive--under his anger--under, perhaps, his curse. There might -indeed be matter of consolation in her thoughts; there might be a full -justification of her conduct to her own heart. She might feel, or -might believe, that she had done no wrong. Scanning her motives as -severely as she could, she might, with a clear conscience, say, that -not for any personal feeling,--not for love, or from weakness, had she -neglected a duty to a parent; that passion, or fancy, or attachment, -had not shared, even in a degree, in what she had done. Though she -loved as deeply as she was loved in return, and owned to her own heart -that she had made no sacrifice of aught but the girl's timidity, still -it was sad to quit the home of youth as an outcast. It weighed upon -her that her father's last words to her should have been those of -anger and bitterness; that the eye which had ever looked beaming upon -her, even when it fell cold and harsh on others, should at length have -blazed with rage as it rested on her face. - -Apprehension, too, mingled with such painful sensations. What if the -early discovery of all that had taken place should frustrate the -object which had made her willing, eager in her consent? What if her -absence, and that of her young husband, in a moment of peril, should -leave her father exposed to the dangers from which she would fain have -shielded him? Her heart sank as she thought of it; and, moreover, she -said to herself, with a sigh--for all women, and most men, think of -the world's opinion, more or less--"People will believe that I have -yielded to love for Ferdinand to disobey my father on the most vital -point, and they will condemn me justly, and think my punishment hardly -severe enough." - -She felt very sad then: she could take no pleasure in the scenes -through which she passed, though the green woods were everywhere -pleasant to the eye, and often many a lovely spot peeped in upon her -through the sloping chasms in the hills, as she went along. In vain -Bertha, with gay talk, strove hard to win her from her heavy thoughts; -and though the men who accompanied her were kind and civil in their -rude way, yet nought could win a smile to poor Adelaide's lip. - -The sun rose high, and looked down into the dells through which they -wound along, gilding the banks of moss, and chequering the narrow road -with waving filigree work, of yellow light and green shade. He began -to sink behind the branches of the higher trees, and a cool, fresh air -followed his decline. Through the most unfrequented parts of the wide -forest, which stretched far along the hills, they took their way, -avoiding village, and hamlet, and farm, and even keeping at a distance -from the course of the stream. The paths they chose were those of the -woodman; or the hunter; but even the latter trod them so seldom, that -more than once, from a thicket close at hand, the wild roe bounded -away; and twice or thrice, where a shady glade opened into the heart -of the wood, a stag was seen raising his antlered head, and gazing -steadfastly at the unwonted sight of a cavalcade crossing his own -habitual solitude. - -At length, after four hours' slow riding, the man who seemed the -leader of the little troop which had been sent to guard Adelaide on -her way, drew in his horse, saying, "I think, lady, we must now be -beyond all danger, and can well afford to halt for an hour to refresh -ourselves and our horses, under the trees, with the provisions which -my lord, the Abbot, has bountifully supplied." - -"If the horses need refreshment, let us stop," replied Adelaide: "I -would not have the poor beasts misused for me; but you need not halt -on my account: I do not need any repose, and am only anxious to -proceed as fast as may be." - -The good man, however, chose to take it for granted that the cattle -did want food and rest, though they had fed well at the abbey, and had -rested for some hours. Bertha, too, to say the truth, was right glad -of some refreshment; for she had had a weary and an apprehensive -night; and hers was a light heart, that forgot its fears as soon as -danger was no longer very apparent. - -Adelaide dismounted, then, as soon as she saw that it needs must be -so; and seated on the turf, beneath a spreading beech tree, a -plentiful meal was laid out before her, with some of the rich wines of -the abbey; of which good cheer her companions failed not to partake -more plentifully than she did herself. The horses, tethered near, fed -on some oats which had been brought for their need, and finished their -meal upon the forest grass; and thus nearly an hour passed without any -sign of an intention to move. - -The sun where they sat was shining brightly upon a small open space in -front, not a cloud seemed to shadow any part of the sky, and the tops -of the distant hills, seen through the brake, appeared peculiarly -sharp and clear. But, in the midst of this serenity, Adelaide's quick -ear caught a peculiar rolling sound, coming apparently from a distance -on the right, and starting up, she asked, "Is not that thunder?" -adding, "let us go on quickly, I pray you, Sir." - -"Oh, 'twas but the wind amongst the trees, lady," answered the man, -hardly moving a limb: but his assertion was contradicted a moment -after by a louder and a nearer peal. - -All was now bustle and hurry. The horses were prepared in haste, the -remnants of the meal packed up, and the whole party mounted. But -scarcely had Adelaide advanced a hundred yards, when a bright flash -broke across the path; and, ere she had gone half a mile, the rain -poured down in torrents. The leader of her little troop was now really -kind: often and anxiously he looked back towards her; would fain have -stripped himself of his cloak to defend her better from the large, -heavy drops that, as they fell, went through and through the gown of -black serge which she wore above her ordinary dress; and sent two men -away, to the right and left, to see if they could find any cottage, or -woodman's hut, which would afford a covering from the storm. A shed -was at length discovered, and there two weary hours were passed, till -the lady declared, looking up to the sky, that she would rather -proceed, notwithstanding the continued rain, than delay her journey -longer. The leader of the troop was not unwilling, and, after a short -pause, they again began their march, and proceeded for a mile, or -somewhat more, uninterrupted. The rain still poured upon their heads, -and, far from affording any shelter, the trees seemed but to collect -the water amongst the branches, and then let it fall in larger drops -upon the travellers as they passed. But at length they seemed to -approach the verge of the wood; for, through the avenue of tall -beeches which they were now pursuing, Adelaide could see an open field -of green corn, with some shrubs and scattered brushwood beyond again, -though the grey film of heavy drops, which hung like a thin curtain -over all the distant objects, prevented her from distinguishing -anything clearly. It was evident, however, that the leader of the band -thought they were approaching a point of some danger; for he sent on -one of his horsemen a little in advance, to reconnoitre the ground, -and followed more slowly, as if unwilling to advance till he had -received intelligence. The man returned in a minute at full speed, and -said something, in a low tone, which the lady did not distinctly hear. -Instantly, however, the leader turned to her, exclaiming, "Ride back, -lady, with your woman. There are armed men in front, who, he thinks, -have seen him: ride back to the shed. We will--" - -But, ere he could finish his sentence, or Adelaide could ask any -questions, there was the sound of many horses' feet beating the plashy -ground at a quick pace; and, looking between the shoulders of the -horsemen who were in front, the lady saw a number of mounted men -coming rapidly down the road. All was, in a minute, confusion and -bustle: Adelaide's male companions hastening to spread out across the -road before her, at once to conceal her flight and to prevent pursuit. -Without waiting to see more, she drew her rein in terror, and urging -her horse into its quickest pace, dashed away till she reached the -narrow turning which led to the small woodman's shed, up which she -instantly directed her course, nor stopped till she saw the rough hut, -with its thatched roof raised upon six bare poles. There, however, she -paused, and looked behind, thinking that Bertha was following; but the -girl was not to be seen. - -The lady listened; but for a moment no sound was heard: then the quick -trampling of horses' feet reached her ear; and Adelaide fancied that -Bertha was coming; but the beasts and their riders passed by the end -of the little path,--at least she believed that they must have done -so, for no one appeared, and the sounds grew gradually fainter and -more faint, till at length they died away. The poor girl's heart sank. -What had become of her companions? she thought; what had become of -Bertha? Had they met with her father's soldiery, and been routed and -driven back? and was she left there, in the midst of the wood, alone, -and without help or guidance? Every fearful image that fancy could -call up presented itself to her mind; and, though Adelaide was not -faint-hearted, yet, for a time, her courage failed at the thought of -all that might occur to her under such circumstances. She struggled -against her terrors, indeed,--she would not dwell upon the dangers; -and she was nerving her mind to consider calmly what it was best for -her to do, when again the trampling sound of horse was heard; and, -leaving the beast that bore her, under the woodman's shed, she drew -back amongst the trees, and listened. The next moment a loud voice -exclaimed, as if shouting to some distant companions, "Here; the hoofs -have turned up here. Come on, come on!" - -It was evidently not one of the party which had accompanied her from -the abbey who was now seeking her, for they knew whither she had gone; -and the lady drew further back, still hiding herself amongst the wet -trees and bushes, yet leaving herself just room to see what passed on -the open spot around the shed. The boughs had hardly ceased waving -where she had pushed them aside, when, first a single soldier, -leading his horse by the bridle, appeared, and then two or three -others, mounted. Their faces were strange to her; they were none of -the men of Ehrenstein; but that they were seeking her, soon seemed -clear, for one of them exclaimed, "Ah, here's the girl's horse--take -care; don't frighten it;" and, bending down low, behind the bushes, -Adelaide remained as still as death; but with a beating heart. What -more was said she did not hear, though the men remained some time, and -seemed to converse eagerly: but that which appeared most strange was, -that, as far as she could see, they made no attempt to search the -copses around; and at length, mounting their horses again, rode -quietly, but quickly, away. - -For several minutes, she did not venture to raise her head; but when -at length she did so, and looked towards the shed, she saw that the -jennet which had brought her thither was gone. At first her brain -seemed to swim with terror, and her knees shook violently. Alone, -in a part of the country which she did not know, without any means -of proceeding but such as her own weary and trembling limbs -afforded--surrounded, perhaps, by those who were seeking to carry her -to an imprisonment which would almost be worse than death--or in the -midst of wild, lawless bands, which were but too numerous in those -days,--with night fast approaching, and no shelter near but the wide -wood, what was she to do?--whither was she to go?--where could she -find refuge? - -Such agonizing thoughts rushed rapidly through her mind, and it was -long ere she could calm herself sufficiently to reflect upon any plan -of action. At length, however, she remembered the green corn which she -had seen growing at the opening of the road, and she thought, too, -that her eyes had rested upon the foliage of the vine. Such signs of -cultivation implied the proximity of some careful hands, and as these -things recurred to her, hope began to revive. - -"I will wait," she said, at length, "till night begins to fall, and -then quietly find my way forward, and seek out the peasant's dwelling -who has tilled those fields. Though rude, the boors are kind-hearted; -and I am sure they will give me shelter for the night, and, perhaps, -help me on my way to-morrow." - -She seated herself, therefore; and, though still grieved, anxious, and -sad, confidence in some degree returned. She prayed, and her heart -felt strengthened and comforted. The nightingale broke out into song, -in a tree overhead. A timid hare ran along before her--paused, and -stood erect with lifted ears--ran on--paused again and listened more -than once before it was lost to her sight; and Adelaide thought, "Why -should not I, frightened, and in danger, like this poor beast, follow -its example, and make my way forward with the same careful caution?" - -She resolved to do so; and rising, she crept back to the small path -that led from the woodman's shed to the wider road which she had -lately been travelling, and then gazed along it as far as the eye -could reach. Nothing was visible; though in the cool evening light, -with the sun just upon the horizon, shining out from beneath the -exhausted clouds, she could see clearly as far as a spot about two -hundred yards in advance, where the path, taking a turn, was lost -amongst the trees. With a cautious step she went on, pausing to listen -every minute, till she gained a sight of the continuation of the -little way. All was still clear; but yet she feared to trust herself -in the wider road, which she could now perceive crossing the path she -was following; and, drawing somewhat back behind an oak, she watched -eagerly for a moment or two, while the sun sank, the rosy light that -tinged the clouds overhead died away, and the grey shadow of the -coming night was cast upon the earth. - -"I must go on," she said to herself; but still she dreaded to do so, -and did not move, till suddenly a tall hart came slowly trotting down -the road, passed the end of the path in which she was, after standing -for a moment to gaze, as if considering which way he should take, and -disappeared in the very direction in which she was proceeding. - -"There is no one there," thought the poor girl; "the beast's instinct -shall serve my weaker sense, and give me courage to go on." - -Without further hesitation she went upon her way, turned up the road -to the right, and followed it quickly, for the light was failing fast. -Night had completely closed in ere the trees ended; and she found -herself standing by a field of green corn, with what seemed a little -patch of vineyard on a slope beyond, and a dim line of trees farther -forward still. The stars were out in the sky above, for by this time -the stormy clouds had cleared away; but there was, in the scene, a -pleasanter light to the eye of the poor wanderer, than even the -twinkling lamps of heaven. At some distance to the right, were seen a -number of what she concluded were cottage windows, with rays, as if -from fires or candles within, streaming forth upon the darkness; and, -at her side, she saw the commencement of a path, apparently leading, -to the village or hamlet. - -She was very weary; but that sight gave her strength; and, with a -quickened pace, she hurried on. The lights grew more distinct as she -advanced, and she caught a faint glimpse of the buildings before her. -There were cottages, evidently, and a little church; but a larger -and more imposing edifice appeared on the left. It might be a -stronghold--it might be a monastery or convent; and Adelaide tried to -recollect all she had heard of the places in the neighbourhood, in -order to divine what the building could be that now rose before her -eyes, towering higher over the trees every step, as she came nearer. -She knew not, however, how far she had gone, or what direction she had -taken, and she only puzzled herself with conjectures, till she arrived -at the first house of the village, which stood a little in advance of -those tall walls, from which no light proceeded. From two windows of -the lesser building, indeed, the friendly rays were streaming -plentifully; and Adelaide determined to pause there, and ask for -shelter; but she found some difficulty in approaching it. It was a -small house, within a garden, apparently neither the cottage of a -peasant, nor the dwelling of a farmer; for there was a low wall round -the garden, and that wall, again, was surrounded by a foss, full of -water. It did not seem, indeed, defensible against any large force; -but it was, at all events, guarded against the sudden attack of -maurauders; and Adelaide thought she could see the wall winding along -till it joined that of the larger building behind. On the side next to -her she could find no entrance, nor any means of passing the moat; but -when she had walked on, round the angle of the wall, there appeared a -little wooden bridge, and a door, with the masonry raised several feet -on either side, so that no one approaching by the bridge could leap -over into the garden. By the side of the door was the large iron -pulley of a bell; but the young wanderer paused, doubting whether she -should ring there, or go on to one of the cottages a little further up -the hill. She was very weary, however; her limbs felt powerless; her -heart was faint; and with a feeling like despair, she put forth her -hand and rang the bell. - -The next minute she heard a door open within the enclosure, and a step -cross the garden. Then a wooden shutter was drawn back from before a -small aperture in the gate, barred with iron; and a voice asked, "Who -is there?" - -It was a woman's tongue; and oh, how sweetly it sounded in Adelaide's -ears! - -"I have lost my way in the wood," she replied, "and have suffered -much. I am wet, weary, and faint, and I pray you give me shelter for -the night, in Our Lady's name." - -"Are you alone, poor thing?" asked the woman. - -"Quite," answered the lady: "I was not alone in truth, for I had some -men from the abbey of--" She paused, and omitting the name, went -on--"from the abbey, with me and my maid; but we were met by an armed -band, who attacked us, and I fled. Since then I have wandered on, and -know not where I am." - -The woman uttered a short exclamation, as of surprise; but she opened -the door quickly, and Adelaide, the moment after, stood in a little -garden pleasantly laid out in walks covered over with vines trained -upon poles. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - - -"Your steps totter, poor child," said the woman who opened the gate to -Adelaide; "here, lean upon my arm; but first let me make fast the -door. We live in strange bad times; but here you will be safe, if -there is safety to be found; for no one will venture to assail the -Convent of the Holy Cross, or those who live beneath its walls." - -Adelaide made no reply; for there are moments when the motives for -exertion having ceased, the very relief from terror and anxiety is in -itself overpowering, and the corporeal frame yields at the instant of -deliverance to the weight it had borne up under during the period of -peril. She perceived by a faint light, which streamed from the half -open door of the house, that the person who spoke to her was not -habited in the garb of a nun, although she mentioned the convent as -her assurance of security; but Adelaide could ask no question, make no -reply. Everything seemed indistinct and misty; the gardens, with the -rays from the windows and the door pouring in long lines through the -green leaves of the vine, swam before her eyes; her limbs lost their -power, her tongue clove to her mouth, and it was with difficulty that, -aided even by the woman's arm, she reached the threshold of the house. -Her companion pushed the door further open; and supported her up the -little step, but at the top the poor girl leaned more heavily still -upon her guide's arm, and the next instant sank gradually, and even -slowly, down to the ground; while the old woman held her up as well as -she could, calling to some one within for assistance. - -In an instant two other figures were added to the group, one coming -from a room on the right hand, and another from the back of the house. -The former was that of a lady, perhaps forty years of age, though she -looked somewhat older; for her dress was not one calculated to conceal -the effects of time, or to set off the lingering beauties that years -had spared, to the greatest advantage. It was all of black, except the -head gear, which was snowy white, and brought far down over the broad -fair brow, almost entirely hiding the hair. The colours were those -common to many orders of nuns; and there was something in the form of -the dress itself which was in a degree conventual, so that, at first -sight, one might have taken her for a recluse; but at the second -glance one detected many differences from the garb of any established -sisterhood. There was no actual veil, a small portion of the hair was -seen; there were rings upon the fingers, and though a cross and rosary -were hanging at the girdle, there was a locket round the neck, hanging -by a gold chain. The other person seemed a superior servant; but poor -Adelaide saw none of those things, and when first she opened her eyes -again, she found herself in a small chamber furnished with much taste -and some luxury. There was tapestry on the walls, not representing -figures, as was so frequently the case; but divided into panels by -tall columns worked in the web and covered with arabesques, while in -the centre of each panel appeared an exquisitely executed group of -flowers. All the moveable furniture was formed of some dark wood -beautifully carved, and the sombre hue of the material was relieved by -rich crimson velvet here and there, while a fine mirror, and two small -but beautiful pictures of the very early school, which began, or -perhaps I may almost say preceded, the revival of the arts, were -sustained against the walls by poles of iron gilt thrust through the -tapestry. As the poor girl recovered more fully, she saw an elderly -woman-servant kneeling at the end of the bed on which she was laid, -assiduously rubbing her feet, while over her bent a face which seemed -to her almost that of an angel, and a soft hand bathed her temple with -some fine essences. - -"Thank you. Oh, thank you," she said, as soon as she could speak; "how -kind you are." - -"Hush!" said the lady of the house; "not a word at present, my dear -child. You will soon be well again, and then you shall speak. Bring a -little wine, Biancha, and some dry garments, for these are still wet." - -Adelaide took her hand and pressed it in her own; and the servant -hastened away for the things she had been ordered to procure. The -nun's gown which Adelaide had worn throughout the day had been already -taken off, and she now lay in the ordinary dress of a woman of high -rank, which was more distinctly marked from the garments of the lower -orders in those days than at present. Her station, therefore, could -not be doubted; but yet in the look of deep interest with which the -lady gazed upon her, there seemed something more than the mere -compassion which might well be felt for one accustomed to every -comfort and refinement, exposed suddenly to hardships, dangers, and -fatigues, and sinking under them. It was a long, thoughtful, wistful -look that she fixed upon her. It seemed to scan her face, and ask deep -questions of her heart and mind. It was rather, as if it said, what is -beneath that lovely countenance? what spirit is within that graceful -form? than merely, what are you? what is your name and place in the -cold order of this world's classes? But when the poor girl pressed her -hand, and looked up with eyes full of petition as well as thanks, the -lady smiled sweetly; and yet some drops gathered in her eyes, and one -or two rolled over and bedewed her cheek. Then, bending down her -head--perhaps in some degree to hide the tears--she kissed the marble -forehead that lay beneath her eyes, and whispered, "You will soon be -better.--Hush!--Be patient for a while; we will talk more anon." - -The voice was very musical, soft, low, and sweet, with a slight -foreign accent; but still so expressive of kindness and tenderness, -that had it even used an unknown language, Adelaide would have -understood right well its tones of sympathy. - -"I am well, now, indeed," she murmured; "and I must thank you from my -heart, dear lady, for your kindness." - -"Fie!" said her companion; "if you would thank me really, lie still -till you have taken some nourishment. Then you shall speak, and tell -me all that has befallen you. Oh! here is Biancha--Now take a little -wine. Dip a morsel of bread in it first, and swallow that. Then sip -the rest. It will not do you harm." - -Adelaide followed her directions, shaking her head, however, with a -smile, and saying, "It was not food I wanted, but rest and peace." - -"Peace!" said the lady, with a melancholy look; "is there such a thing -on earth? Alas! my child--" - -But she did not finish the sentence; and after her fair guest had -taken the wine, she aided the maid to change the wet garments, and put -on some loose clothing for her, which, if it fitted not quite well, at -least felt warm and comforting. - -"Now lie and rest," said the lady, "and tell me how this has been. The -girl who let you in says, that you were travelling under the guard of -some men from the abbey--What abbey did she mean?--that near -Ehrenstein?" - -"The same," answered Adelaide; but she paused there and hesitated, -looking at the maid. - -The lady seemed to comprehend her hesitation at once, and said, "Leave -us, Biancha;" and when she was gone, she added, "You might trust her, -my child. She is faithful and true--ay, and discreet, as she has -proved herself through many a year. And so you separated from your -guides, and lost your way in the foul day we have had? How did that -happen?" - -"At the edge of the wood, hard by," answered Adelaide, not anxious to -be questioned too closely upon other subjects, "they saw a party of -armed men, who seemed about to attack them; and they told me, with the -maid, to ride back and wait at a woodman's shed, where we had found -shelter some time before from the storm. I rode away in terror, -thinking that Bertha followed; but--how or why, I know not--she never -came. I fear the men of the abbey were attacked and discomfited, for I -heard horses galloping furiously past, as if in flight and pursuit; -and soon after they came up towards the place where I was, and I fled -amongst the trees, on foot, and watched them from behind the bushes. -They did not seek for me far; but took away my horse, which I had left -standing, weary, there. Thus it was that I was forced to find my way -onward alone, with night coming on." - -"And whither were you going, my child?" asked the lady, gazing at her -face somewhat earnestly. - -Adelaide hesitated, but she could not well evade the question; and she -answered at length, in a low tone, "To Heiligenstein, lady." - -"And who sent you thither?" was the next question. - -"One of the good Fathers of the abbey," replied Adelaide, "who has -been very kind to me and mine. His name is Father George." - -The lady instantly cast her arms around her, and kissed her tenderly. -"You are at Heiligenstein, my child," she whispered; "and it was to me -that George of Altenburg sent you. Rest in peace, dear Adelaide; rest -in peace. You are with a mother." - -Adelaide returned her embrace gratefully; but then raised her eyes, -and gazed inquiringly in the lady's face. Strange, mingled emotions -thrilled through her bosom, not to be told, not to be separated. She -saw a likeness to features that she knew and loved; she saw a likeness -in the expression; she saw it in the peculiar light of the eyes: The -tones of that lady's voice, too, were like his; and she had said to -her, his bride, "You are with a mother." "But yet how could that be?" -she asked herself. Ferdinand's mother had been long dead, she had been -told; he himself believed that it was so. Even Father George, when -revealing to her much of his history (more, indeed, than her lover -knew himself), had never mentioned the existence of that parent; and -yet there was something which made Adelaide still believe that she was -indeed with the mother of him she loved. To hear the lady call Father -George by the name which he had long ceased to use, did not surprise -her at all; for both from words which he had himself spoken, and from -the contemptuous epithet which her father had applied to Ferdinand, -she was already aware that the monk was a member of that high house; -but all her thoughts turned to the one question, Who was the kind and -gentle being that sat beside her? - -What is like thought? Nothing that ever was created or devised. Rapid -as the lightning, but yet not like it; not one broad glare -extinguished as soon as seen, but full of combinations, rushing -through innumerable channels, working out a thousand permanent -results. Though in its process and celerity of operation, it has been -well called "the lightning of the mind," it can, in all its -attributes, be compared to nothing that earth has seen. All that I -have related, and much more, passed through Adelaide's mind, and yet -it required but the short interval occupied by the return of the -caress which the lady gave her, for her thus to commune with herself. -The pause was but momentary, and then the lady added, as if she had -hardly stopped, "I will be to you as a mother, dear child." - -Those few words rendered all the poor girl's conclusions once more -vague and undefined. It might be but a form of speech she had used, -Adelaide thought; and Adelaide mused. - -"And are you like your father?" asked the lady at length; after having -gazed for a minute or two on the countenance of the fair creature -before her, while the long, dark lashes of the downcast eyes rested on -her cheek as she meditated. - -"I do not know," answered Adelaide, looking suddenly up. "You do not -know him, then?" - -"I never saw him," replied the lady, thoughtfully, and even gravely; -but after a moment she went on--"We will ask each other no more -questions, dear girl. Here you can stay in safety and peace. That is -enough for the present; all the rest will soon be explained; and -between two agitated and apprehensive hearts, like Yours and mine, it -is better only to speak of things that may tranquillize and reassure -us." - -"And are you, too, agitated and apprehensive?" asked Adelaide. "How, -then, can I rest here in peace?" - -"Agitated! ay, and full of fears, I am, indeed," answered the lady; -"but they are not such as affect you, my child. If it is for Ferdinand -you fear, doubt not that he is safe, for I have had assurance of it; -if for yourself, set your mind at rest, for though this house may seem -but an insecure asylum against the pursuit of those who would take you -hence, yet, first, they know not where you are; and next, by the side -of the very bed on which you lie, is a door that leads at once within -the convent walls. That place is holy, and those walls are strong. If -there be men daring enough to try to force them, there is power at -hand to resist. Now, my child, I will leave you to repose; for it is -that which you most need. Sleep--and Heaven's best benison be upon -you!" - -Carefully and kindly the lady shaded the lamp, but left it still -burning, placed a little silver bell by Adelaide's side, and assuring -her that if she needed aught, she had but to ring, and it would be -instantly brought to her, she kissed her with motherly tenderness, and -left her. - -Adelaide leaned her head upon her hand; but her thoughts were all -bewildered with the events just passed. There are moments when the -mind is too busy for sleep to still its wild activity, but when the -agitation of the heart renders thought vain and fruitless. She could -not think,--she could not sleep: she could only feel. She was then, -for the first time, absent from her father's dwelling. She was the -bride of a single day, with her bridegroom absent she knew not where. -She was a fugitive among strangers, who were kind and gentle to her; -but who they were she knew not. She had passed through dangers and -fatigues such as she had never endured before; and who could say when -they might be renewed? How could she either sleep or think when such -impressions were all fresh upon her? and there she lay till hour after -hour had passed by,--till the convent bell sounded midnight, and all -seemed still and at rest but the heavy marker of the passing time. -Just then, however, she heard a dull sound like the trampling of -horses, and terror began to take possession of her again. The sound -came nearer and more near, and she stretched out her hand to ring the -bell which had been left by her side, when suddenly rose up a strain -of rich harmony in the midst of the darkness and stillness of the -night. Adelaide heard but little of the lay, but thus sang a number of -wild but fine voices, as the cavalcade passed by:-- - - - SONG. - - "The world's all at peace, and the sunshiny earth - Is teeming with riches and joy; - And each passing minute to pleasure gives birth, - And manhood's as gay as the boy. - "Now hark to the sound - Of the horn and the hound, - As they waken the valley and wood:-- - Hide your head, hide your head, - From the march of the dead! - 'Tis the giant Black Huntsman is riding afar; - 'Tis the blast of the trumpet,--the grim dogs of war; - And the land shall be deluged in blood: - Hide your head!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - - -It was a gloomy meal, the dinner at the castle of Ehrenstein; and -would have been gloomier still, had it not been for the presence of -one of those persons who in that age were privileged to mingle jest, -if not mirth, with every event of life's chequered course, and make -the wedding or the funeral alike the occasion of their wild satire. A -number of the troops of Leiningen had gone forth to scour the country -round in pursuit of the fugitive Baron of Eppenfeld; but Count -Frederick himself had been persuaded, somewhat more easily than his -host had expected, to remain till after the mid-day meal. A few -courteous entreaties were all that the frank old nobleman required; -and whether they were sincere or not, he evidently received them as -such, saying that he could well trust his good riders to trap an old -fox, though it might have grown grey in its cunning; but that, if they -had not succeeded by two hours after noon, he would mount himself. - -All was hurry and confusion during the morning, however; and the -castle looked more like a fortress, the garrison of which expected -immediate attack, than the dwelling of a high noble in a time of -peace. Parties were hourly coming in or going forth, messengers -arrived or were despatched continually, and even the hall and the -festive board were not free from business and importunity. The brow of -the Count of Ehrenstein remained as black as night; nothing could move -his lip to a smile; and as he sat at the head of the table in the -lesser hall, with a greatly diminished party around, his very look -spread gloom over the feast, and saddened the gayest hearts present. - -Count Frederick strove to comfort and console him; but the Lord of -Ehrenstein heard his words in silence, or replied in monosyllables. -The priest ate the rich food and drank the fine wine, without -venturing more than a few words in praise of both; the knights sat -round, and partook of their good cheer, with only a whisper amongst -themselves now and then; and no one spoke but the jester, who, as -usual, held on his captious course, as if nothing had occurred to -interrupt the merriment; or, at least, as if he were in utter -ignorance that such had been the case. - -Those were days of privilege, when every prescriptive right, however -ridiculous and sometimes iniquitous it might be, was reverenced as a -part of a great system; and even the privilege of the jester was held -so sacred, that any man who ventured to show serious anger at what he -might say, would have been considered either as a fool or a tyrant. -Thus our friend, on the present occasion, ventured, without the least -fear, to touch upon all those subjects which were most painful to the -master of the dwelling; sometimes wondering if the Lady Adelaide fared -as well in the fields as they did in the castle, sometimes choosing to -suppose that Ferdinand of Altenburg must have gained a goodly appetite -by his early walk. - -At length he exclaimed, looking round, "How silent you are, noble -cousins! I know that it proceeds from your admiration for my rich -talk; so, to improve your manners, I will give you a lecture upon -morals. What is the cause of young men getting into all sorts of -mischief? Answer, or I will answer for you." - -"Want of sense," replied Count Frederick: "it can be nothing else." - -"Wrong, uncle--ever wrong," cried the jester; "for then would old men -get into mischief, too. God love you! there is as little sense under a -grey beard as under a brown one, and more than either under none at -all. Look you now, the Lady Adelaide has more sense than her father, -though she has no beard, and he has a long one; and then he has more -sense than I have, and his beard is but grey, while mine is white. Try -again, uncle, try again." - -"I have you now," answered the Count: "it is want of experience, you -would say." - -"Wrong once more," answered the jester. "See you not that those who -have had most experience still do foolish things. Who would have -thought that an armed lord, with well nigh five hundred men in his -train, would have trusted sundry sacks of gold to be carried by -peaceful merchants, when he could have brought it himself? No, no, -uncle: 'tis the great fault of all men--want of faith." - -"Nay, but, Herr von Narren, this is a lecture on religion, not on -morals, then," replied his lord. - -"Not a whit, not a whit," cried the jester. "Want of faith in all -things is bad; but I dabble not with religion. Let the cobbler stick -to his awl: I am a moralist and philosopher, not a priest; and yet I -say it is want of faith that gets young men into mischief; for, did we -believe what those who have tried tell those who have not tried, we -should 'scape many a danger. But we never do believe in this world; we -always think that we shall be better off than our neighbours, and -therefore wish to try for ourselves. Is not that morality for you now? -And see how it is proved every day. Cage your bird for its own good, -and it will beat itself to death to get out; or, leave the door open -for a minute, and it flies away to be pecked to death by the first -hawk it meets. Is it not so, good Count of Ehrenstein?" - -"Faith! I do not know," replied the Count; "but this I do know, that -if some birds, who have escaped from _my_ cage, fall into my hands -again, I will wring their heads off." - -"So do men get bloody fingers," answered the jester; "but, after all, -who is there among us that has not some stain upon his hand? No one -except myself, I warrant. There is a lily palm, with not a drop of -Christian blood upon it; and as for the gore of a few stray Saracens, -that but cleanses a man's fingers; as a farmer's maiden uses sand, -which is dirt, to scrub her father's floor." - -The Count of Ehrenstein's brow had become doubly dark, but he ventured -to give no other sign of his anger at the words of a mere jester; and -turning to a man who entered, booted and spurred, just at the -conclusion of Herr von Narren's speech, he inquired, "Well, what news? -Are there any tidings of them?" - -"None, my good lord," answered the man; "all the world are so busy -with other thoughts, that they seem to have paid no attention to -anything but one." - -"Ay, and what is that one?" said Count Frederick, turning to the -messenger also. - -"Why, the Black Huntsman is out again, my lord," said the man; "and -old Seckendorf sent me back to let my lord know that all the country -is ringing with his doings. He rode all the way down the valley last -night, and some say, went down to the Rhine, while others will have -it, that he turned towards Zweibrücken." - -"Then we must make ready for war, I suppose," replied Count Frederick; -"but is the news quite sure?" - -"Oh, quite," answered the messenger; "we counted more than a hundred -horses' feet all the way along the dusty old road upon the top of the -hills." - -"Did they stop at the abbey?" asked the Count of Ehrenstein, with a -sneering smile. - -"No, my lord; they left it far to the left," was the man's answer, -"keeping along amongst the hills, until we lost them in the wood, some -six miles off." - -"Well, let it come," said the Count musing, and speaking rather to -what was passing in his own thoughts, than in reference to anything -that had been said by others; "let it come. It shall go hard, if the -tide of war flows through this valley, but that one of the waves shall -sweep away the walls of the abbey--ay, and all that are within;" he -muttered between his teeth. - -"My lord, my lord!" cried a man, who was seated near the window; "here -comes news at length, or I am mistaken. Some one galloping like mad up -from the bridge." - -"Bring him up quick, as soon as he arrives," cried the Count of -Ehrenstein, turning to the attendants behind him; and the meal resumed -its course for a few minutes; though few of those principally -interested in the events which had taken place during that morning and -the preceding night, showed any great appetite for the dainties before -them. - -At length, quick steps were heard in the outer chamber, and the two -Counts turned their faces towards the door with the eager look of -expectation. Some of the servants of the castle were the first that -appeared; but immediately behind them was a stranger, dressed in the -garb of the middle orders, and offering nothing very remarkable, -either in his person or apparel. The Count of Ehrenstein, as was not -unusual with him, fixed his eyes for a moment on the new comer, -without speaking. It seemed, as if he loved to question men's faces, -and to read the character in the countenance before he ventured -anything in words himself. It is not an unfrequent habit with all men -of dark and subtle natures; but before he could speak on the present -occasion, the person who thus sought his presence, looked inquiringly -from his countenance to that of Count Frederick of Leiningen, and then -asked, "Which is the Count of Ehrenstein?" - -"I am he," replied the Count; "what would you with me, Sir?" - -"I bring you this letter, my lord," answered the man; "I was told to -deliver it with all speed." - -The Count took it, gazed thoughtfully at the superscription, and then -raising his eyes to the man's face, demanded, "Who gave you this?" - -"Faith! my good lord, I do not know," replied the man; "it was a young -gentleman, of a fair countenance, and a good bearing, some twenty -years of age or so; and he gave me ten crowns out of his purse, to -carry it to you with all speed." - -"Had he any one with him? Was he on foot or on horseback?" inquired -the Count. - -"Quite alone, my lord," answered the man; "but he rode as fine a horse -as ever carried knight or noble." - -The Count made no observation, but opened the letter and read. Then -laying it down upon the table by his side, he laid his hand upon it, -and seemed lost in thought; but after a moment, he pushed the paper -over to Count Frederick, saying, "Read, my friend, read; for it -concerns you too. Methinks this youth is bold, or else backed by means -we know not of." - -Without reply, Count Frederick took the letter, and read as follows:-- - - "FERDINAND OF ALTENBURG TO THE COUNT OF EHRENSTEIN, - WITH HUMBLE AND RESPECTFUL GREETING. - - "MY LORD THE COUNT, - -"Finding myself in peril within the walls of your castle, and doubting -that you would give me other judgment than that of your own court, -which, as a stranger of noble birth, not born upon the lands of -Ehrenstein, I am not lawfully subject to, I have thought fit to take -such means of escape as were at hand, and have used them to good -purpose. Nevertheless, I wish you to know that in thus flying from the -castle of Ehrenstein, I have no will or purpose to escape from fair -trial and judgment of my guilt or innocence, by a free and open court -of knights or gentlemen of good degree, and that I am ready to submit -myself to such, in any sure place, when I shall be certified that I -shall have impartial judgment. I am now upon the lands of Leiningen, -and will there remain, claiming protection of that noble prince, the -Count Frederick, but ready at all times to appear before a court -summoned anywhere within his jurisdiction, and consisting, in at least -one-half, of persons who are not retainers of the Count of Ehrenstein. -To their decree, I shall bow without appeal, in all matters between -you and me, provided you also pledge yourself to abide by their -decision, whatever it may be. - -"A summons to appear, according to the terms of this letter, with the -guarantee of Count Frederick, that they shall be duly observed, will -meet my eye, if hung upon the gates of the castle of Hardenberg, and I -will appear accordingly, at the place and time appointed." - -Such was the tenor of the letter now laid before Count Frederick of -Leiningen; and after he had read it, he mused several minutes without -commenting upon its contents, till an impatient "Well!" from the Count -of Ehrenstein roused him from his reverie. - -"You think the letter bold, Ehrenstein," he said; "but in this you are -not impartial. To me it seems fair enough. One who is willing to -submit himself to the free judgment of unbiassed men, can be conscious -of no great wrong." - -The Count of Ehrenstein clenched his hand tight as it lay upon the -table, till the veins and sinews seemed starting through the skin, and -he muttered between his teeth, "You too, Leiningen!" - -Count Frederick took no notice of the reproachful words; but calmly -inquired, "What say you, my good friend? Will you accept the terms?" - -"Your wishing me to do so, my lord the Count," replied the master of -the castle somewhat sternly, "shows that you are not disposed to act -the more friendly part, and aid me in hunting down the treacherous -hound, as I would do with you in similar circumstances. Think you, -that if a follower of your house had injured you as deeply as this -youth has injured me, that I would not pursue him through my lands -till I had caught him, and then give him up to you, to deal with at -your pleasure?" - -"I would not ask you, Ehrenstein," replied Count Frederick, coldly; -"justice and fair dealing have ever been my motto. He offers to submit -to justice, and I will have no hand in refusing it to him. If you will -accept his terms, well; I will name four honest men to judge him, and -you shall name an equal number. Doubt not, if he have committed the -crime with which you charge him, they will pronounce due sentence on -him, and I will see it executed; but if he can free himself of the -charge, God give him good deliverance! Once more, what say you?" - -"What must be, must be," answered the Count; "and as I can have no -better, I will take these terms." - -"Well, then," replied Count Frederick, rising, "I will see that notice -be duly given on the gates of my castle of Hardenberg, and will -appoint what place and hour you may think fit. When shall it be, and -where?" - -The Count of Ehrenstein thought for a moment or two, and then said, -"To-morrow, at midnight, if you will. Then for the place--you know the -large old chapel, half way between Hardenberg and Mosbach." - -"At midnight!" said Count Frederick, in a tone of much surprise. - -"Ay, at midnight," answered the Count of Ehrenstein; "I cannot well be -there before, my good friend. I have another fugitive to seek and -find." - -Count Frederick's brow grew rather clouded, for he had doubts which he -did not choose to express; but merely bowing his head in silent -acquiescence, he left the hall with his followers; and ere another -hour had passed, he and his train were riding down the hill, away from -Ehrenstein. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - - -Imbibing somewhat of the spirit of the age whereof I write, I have, -perhaps, in this true history, neglected to a certain degree the -inferior persons of the tale, keeping myself among lords and ladies, -counts and barons, to the exclusion from consideration of not less -worthy and serviceable people; but the events at which I am now -arrived, require me absolutely to descend from this high elevation, -and to notice the fate of one whom, in a former part of the story, I -have spoken of with some partiality. - -It will not be difficult for the reader to recollect, that when -Adelaide of Ehrenstein fled in terror towards the woodman's shed, she -imagined that her maid Bertha was following as fast as 'the four legs -of her horse would carry her, and that soon after she discovered, to -her consternation and surprise, that such was not the case. What -became of Bertha in the mean time? In truth, the good gay girl had -every inclination in the world to do as she was told; but, -nevertheless, she did not follow her mistress ten steps; for, in the -hurry and confusion of the moment, while endeavouring to extricate -herself from the men and horses that were pressing to the front in -order to favour the lady's escape, the long nun's gown, with which she -was covered, caught in one of the large stirrup-irons of those days, -and pulled her from her horse, as the beast hurried on in the -direction which had been given to it. - -She fell heavily, and was somewhat confused and stunned by the -concussion, so that a moment or two went by without her being aware of -anything that passed around. She felt herself raised from the earth, -however, heard a number of voices speaking, saw various indistinct -objects moving quickly about, and, as sense began to return fully, -beheld a party of armed men surrounding her companions of the way and -herself, although the body which had quitted the abbey in the morning, -seemed to be diminished by two or three. - -The first words which she heard clearly, were pronounced in a loud but -melodious tone, and were as follows:--"Pursue them quickly, and bring -them back. Seek for the girl's horse also. We must know what all this -means." - -Looking up in the direction of the sounds, Bertha beheld a tall, -powerful man on horseback, some five or ten yards before her, with -fifteen or sixteen other gentlemen; some fully armed according to the -custom of the day, but others in the garb of peace. Round about, and -in the open space behind, were not less than two or three hundred -soldiers, but the principal personage of the whole, he who had spoken, -displayed no arms whatever, except the ordinary sword and dagger. He -was clothed in a loose coat of buff leather, trimmed with rich fur, -and embroidered with gold thread in various quaint devices. Some -careful and laborious needle had worked all over it the figures of -birds, and flowers, and leaves, of syrens and armed men, and stags, -and hounds, and mermaids; and on his head he wore a bonnet of crimson -velvet, and a high plume of feathers, white as snow. His age might be -between forty and fifty, but his beard and hair were black as jet, and -his teeth white and fine. His countenance was pleasing, though there -was something of a cold and sarcastic smile upon it, and the air with -which he sat his horse was graceful but somewhat haughty. For a minute -or two he said no more; but continued to gaze over the heads of those -before him down the road into the wood, then turning his horse with a -light hand, he exclaimed: "Wait, Rudolph, till they have brought those -men back, then follow me, bringing them with you." - -Leading the way onward at the head of the troop, the person who had -spoken pursued the same course which the party at the abbey had been -taking. About fifty of his followers remained behind, guarding those -who might now be considered prisoners; and though a deep silence -succeeded to the great man's departure, Bertha, whose tongue was not -under the most strict control, ventured at length to ask the man next -her, "Who was that who has just ridden away?" - -The person she addressed was one of her fellow-captives, and he -answered in a low voice, "The Emperor, going to Spires, they say." - -He immediately relapsed into silence, and Bertha's brain began to -revolve the circumstances in which she was placed, and to inquire -whether there was no chance of her being able to extract good out of -evil, and to turn her captivity to some advantage. There were -difficulties, however, which she saw not how to overcome: for, in the -very first instance, she knew not what to do in regard to her fair -mistress. "If I leave her in the wood, poor simple thing," said Bertha -to herself, "Heaven only knows what will become of her. She has not -wit nor experience enough to get herself out of a difficulty, and, -like a bird fresh from a cage, she will go fluttering about hither and -thither till she is starved to death, or pecked to pieces by birds of -prey. Then, again, if I tell these people where she is to be found, a -thousand to one they will send her back at once to her father, and -that will be worse than all. I wish to Heaven I could get a word with -the man he called Rudolph, just to see what stuff he is made off." - -A moment or two after, the sound of horses coming up the road was -heard, and Bertha, looking round, perceived several of the Emperor's -soldiers, bringing with them two of the men of the abbey, who had fled -some minutes before. The leader of the party which had remained to -guard the prisoners, saw the same objects, and pushed his horse a -little forward, till he was nearly by the girl's side. Taking -advantage of the opportunity, which she thought might not occur again, -Bertha drew near to him, saying: "My lord, I wish to speak with you." - -The only answer she obtained, however, was,--"Hold your tongue, pretty -mistress; I have nothing to do with this business. You must speak with -the Emperor, if you have anything to say." - -"But how can I speak with him, when he is not here?" cried the girl, -impatiently. - -"Oh, he will talk with you at Spires," replied the officer; "he never -objects to see a pretty face, and I will tell him you want to speak to -him--there, hold your tongue now, for I cannot attend to you." - -In a few minutes after, the horse which Adelaide had ridden was -brought forward, and Bertha lifted on it without question or ceremony. -The men of the abbey were arranged in a line, a part of the Emperor's -guard went before, and the rest followed; and at a quick pace, they -pursued their way toward Spires, consoling themselves as best they -could. - -Night came on, not long after, and under the influence of darkness and -fatigue, Bertha's good spirits began to fail her sadly, and her light -heart to sink. Nevertheless, hour by hour went by, and it was not till -near midnight that the rising moon showed her some tall towers and -steeples, which indicated they were approaching Spires. By this time, -however, all power of talking had left her, and she could hardly sit -her horse. The gates of that large and then splendid city were closed -when the party reached them, and the few minutes that passed before -they were opened, seemed to poor Bertha an hour. Then came the long -and melancholy streets, lighted alone by an occasional moonbeam, or -the torch or lantern carried before some knight or citizen on his way -homeward from a late meeting. But at length a redder glare was seen at -the end of the streets by which they passed, and the watch fire of a -large party of soldiers showed the tall towers and massive walls of -the stupendous cathedral, with the cupola long since destroyed, -standing out harsh and severe against the starry sky. - -"I can go no farther," said Bertha, in a faint voice to one of the men -who rode beside her; "I shall drop off my horse." - -"'Tis not far, 'tis not far to the Retscher," answered the man, -good-humouredly; "bear up a little, poor maiden, till you reach the -palace, and there you will be lodged comfortably, and well treated. I -will speak with Count Rudolph, who has a kind heart, though a rough -tongue." - -Thus saying, he rode on; and in a few minutes after, the large massive -building called the Retscher, which served as the Imperial palace when -any of the Emperors visited Spires, appeared lighted by innumerable -flambeaux, stuck in large stone stands before the steps. Though the -hour was so late, all the courtly world seemed awake and busy; guards, -attendants, pages were moving about; persons in rich dresses were seen -coming in and going out of the various doors, and the weary head of -poor Bertha seemed to whirl in the midst of a gayer scene than she had -ever witnessed before, as she was detained for a few minutes before -the principal entrance, while the leader of the party, and one or two -of his companions went in. - -At length, however, Count Rudolph, as he was called, appeared again, -and approaching the side of the tired girl's horse, lifted her off -himself, and aided her up the steps, saying, "You must repose and -refresh yourself to-night, fair lady; and the Emperor will see you -early to-morrow." - -Bertha could only reply by bowing her head; and, accompanying him into -the palace, was led up several flights of steps, and through numerous -passages, amidst servants and officers, till at length her conductor -stopped before an elderly man, who had been sitting playing at tables -with a page in one of the vestibules, but who instantly rose and bowed -respectfully. - -"Where is the room for the lady?" asked the Count, quickly. - -"The page will show it, my lord," answered the old man; and given over -to the guidance of a gay-looking good-humoured youth, Bertha was led -on to a small but comfortable chamber at the end of the gallery. She -saw that the young gentleman gazed at her, with a look of interest, -from time to time; and fully conscious of her own good looks, the -pretty maiden might not at any other time have failed to encourage his -young gallantry, but she was too weary even for a light word; and when -at length he lighted the lamp upon the table, and asked if he could do -aught else to serve her, she only answered, "I am very faint." - -"I will bring you some wine in an instant, beautiful lady," he said; -and running away before she could decline, he soon returned with some -wine and bread, and dried fruits. - -He lingered as long as she would let him, pressed her to eat and -drink, and seemed very willing to assist at her toilet also; but at -length she contrived to send him away; and going back to his old -companion, he declared with all the wild enthusiasm and glowing -imagination of youth, that she was the loveliest creature that had -ever been created. - -Bertha slept well, and slept long; nor was it till some one tried to -open her door, which she had wisely locked, that she awoke on the -following morning. The early visitor who thus roused her, proved to be -a woman sent to give her assistance, but she was hardly dressed when -one of the attendants came to summon her to the Emperor's presence. -Bertha would fain have had more time to consider what she should say -or do, but none was allowed her; and, trusting to woman's ready wit, -she followed the man, who showed her a degree of deference and respect -which somewhat surprised her. Descending two flights of steps, she was -led to a door before which stood some armed men, and in a moment after -was introduced into a small cabinet, where sat the same high person -she had seen the day before, but with his head now uncovered, and a -loose robe of rich fur cast negligently over his shoulders. He rose as -she entered, and when the attendant had retired, advanced a step, -saying, "You wished to see me, lady.--But first tell me, is it true -that I see the daughter of my noble acquaintance, the Count of -Ehrenstein?" - -Bertha's heart sank; for if the Emperor were indeed a friend of the -Count of Ehrenstein, how would he judge, she asked herself, his -daughter's escape from her father's roof?--and what would be his -dealings with one who had aided and accompanied her in her flight? She -had but a moment to ask herself the question, for the Emperor -continued gazing on her, and then repeated the question almost -sternly. - -Bertha cast herself at his feet, and, giving way to awe and -apprehension, burst into tears, sobbing forth, "No, mighty Sir." - -"Who are you then, pretty maiden?" asked the monarch, raising her, and -forcing her to sit down. "These men who were with you have been -telling my people a strange tale of doings somewhat rash and unruly in -the castle of Ehrenstein. I understood from them that you were the -Count's daughter; and, although it were not quite politic in me, -placed as I am, to countenance disobedience in a child towards a -parent, yet, in favour of your bright eyes, I would certainly -endeavour to mediate between you and the Count, should you be really -his daughter, and, at all events, would protect you from hardship or -violence; for I know that he is somewhat stern and severe, and has -little indulgence even for beauty and gentleness." - -His words gave new life to poor Bertha, who from time to time had -given the monarch a furtive glance through the tears, from a pair of -dark lustrous eyes, which might well win the admiration they seemed to -have excited; and seeing both that she had gained some advantage, and -that the Emperor was not in a mood, or of a character, to deal hardly -with her fair mistress, even if she were in his power, she resolved to -give him her own version of the story of Adelaide of Ehrenstein. - -"I am not fit, Sire," she replied, rising, "to sit in such a presence -as this. Your officers have made a mistake in thinking that I am the -Lady Adelaide: I am but a very poor and humble companion of that lady, -and my proper place is at your Majesty's feet." - -She spoke gracefully and well; and, as she again knelt, the monarch -felt somewhat like the page, and thought he had seldom seen a lovelier -creature. - -He would fain have raised her again, however, saying, "Nay, nay: I -cannot bear you kneeling, pretty maid; and I must have a fair and free -confession of all that has past." - -"You shall have one as true as if this were a confessional, Sire," -replied Bertha, raising her eyes, with a ray of her old merriment -brightening her look; "but ere I rise, I must be promised absolution -full and entire." - -Woman accommodates herself to new scenes and circumstances more -quickly than man, and Bertha had already lost just sufficient of her -awe to leave her wits free to act, without diminishing in the least -her tone of respect. She had become familiarized with the presence of -the Emperor, without for a moment forgetting his station or her own; -and there are few things more engaging to that curious being, man, -than an air of confidence in his kindness and forbearance. I believe -the natural heart of man would lead him, like other beasts, to pursue -whatever flies--to crush whatever dreads him. - -The Emperor was like the rest of his species, and he was pleased with -the gay look that crossed the sad one, and with the confidence that -brightened the awe. "Well, well," he said, "you shall have full pardon -and absolution for all your pretty little sins, whatever they may -be--but rise, maiden, rise." - -"I would fain kneel still, Sire," answered Bertha: "I feel that it is -my right place in every way--as a humble subject in so high a -presence, as a penitent, as a petitioner." - -"Nay, then," cried the monarch, taking her by both hands, and raising -her with gentle force, "I must make myself obeyed. Now tell me all -truly, and I promise you that if I can aid or befriend you, I will." - -Bertha did tell him all, sometimes in low tones of entreaty and -deprecation; sometimes with a gay smile, subdued and chastened by a -tear; sometimes an irrepressible jest at herself, at the world, at -woman's nature and weakness, half coquettish, half sad, would break -the even course of her tale; and while she went on, the monarch -listened thoughtfully, and with interest in the tale itself, but more -in the person who told it. - -When she had done, he answered, "I must think over this; but for your -sake, sweet one, it shall have kind consideration, and I will keep my -promise by those bright eyes." As he spoke, he took both her hands in -his, and kissed her cheek; meditated for a moment, and still holding -her firmly. But then he suddenly released her, saying, "No," as if to -himself. - -At that moment there was a knock at the door of the cabinet, and the -Emperor said, "Come in." An attendant instantly entered, and gave him -a large sealed packet, saying, "The messenger said it was of instant -importance, Sire, from the Count of--." - -"Well, well," cried the Emperor, waving his hand; and then, turning to -Bertha, he added, "Now go back to your chamber, fair lady, where you -shall be well taken care of. I will give _your_ business full and kind -thought, and will come and tell you the result." - -"Good Heaven!" thought Bertha, as she quitted the cabinet, "What will -become of me?" - -But the Emperor's thoughts were salutary, and he forbore. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX. - - -At first the sleep of Adelaide of Ehrenstein--when she at length could -close her eyes after the strange music which she had heard--was -troubled and light. Dreams visited her again and again; the same -shapes reappeared in different garbs and circumstances; and a thousand -shifting imaginations crossed the darkness of the sleeping brain, and -passed rapidly away, like summer lightning on a warm night. After some -hours, however, more calm and refreshing slumber fell upon her, and, -when she woke, the sun was shining brightly into her chamber, through -the young green leaves of the vine that mantled the window. Everything -looked sweet and peaceful; the song of birds came musical to her ear, -and she thought that from time to time she caught the sound of a -distant chant and the swelling notes of the organ. The window was half -open, and the balmy breath of spring fanned her cheek as she lay, -while by her side sat the lady whom she had seen the night before, now -gazing at her with the look of a tender mother watching a sick child. -It was full of deep affection, yet melancholy, very melancholy; and -who can gaze upon a young and inexperienced being just about to enter -upon the thorny path of mature life--who, with a knowledge of all that -experience teaches, the disappointments, the sorrows, the anxieties, -the pangs, the agonies that await mortal man upon his strange career, -can watch the young lie sleeping all unconscious of the evil to come, -and not feel sad at heart to think that in such a bitter school they -must learn the great lessons that prepare for immortality? - -"Thou hast slept well, my child," said the lady, as soon as she saw -that Adelaide was awake. "I trust that thy weariness has passed away?" - -"Yes, dear lady," answered Adelaide; "but not my fears. I heard -horsemen pass by last night, and voices singing, and, had not my whole -senses been dulled by fatigue, so that even very terror could not take -hold upon them, I believe I should have lain here and watched the -whole night through, thinking that every sound betokened pursuit." - -"Have no fear, for there is no danger, dear one," said the lady. "I -will show you, when you have risen, how easy escape would be, even if -those whose pursuit you fear were aware of your place of refuge, and -sought you here. We have a sure sanctuary close at hand. I will leave -you now for a while, and then I will lead you to the chapel to praise -God for your deliverance last night." - -Adelaide rose, and dressed herself, though not very quickly; for her -limbs still felt stiff and bruised; and often, too, she would pause -and think, gazing from the window into the little garden that -surrounded the house, and feeling the peaceful influence of the scene, -bring balm and refreshment to her heart. At length, when she was -ready, she opened the door, and looked out where the neat woman -servant was arranging all the little articles of furniture in the -passage; and, while the maid ran to call her mistress, Adelaide could -not prevent her thoughts from contrasting strongly the tranquil life -of that humble cottage with the haughty state and troublous energy of -her father's castle. Peace!--it is peace that the pure heart ever -longs for; and every spot where fancy teaches us to believe it -rests--the village, in its mantle of green trees--the cottage, with -its humble thatch and curling smoke--the cloister, the very hermitage, -wherever imagination places it, seems better far, however lowly, than -the highest and most splendid scene without that good and holy tenant. - -Her reverie lasted not long; for, coming down the narrow stairs, with -the fair hand resting on the dark old oak, the lady joined her guest -in a few moments; and then, in a kind and tender tone, she said, -"Come; it is fit that we should thank God for all things. Had we light -to see, everything on earth is a blessing--except sin. There may be -sorrow; but there is no evil but wickedness. Come, my child." - -"I am ready, and quite willing," answered Adelaide, following; and the -lady led her on along the passage to the back of the house, where -appeared a low arch, and a heavy door covered with iron plates. It was -not locked; but, as soon as it was drawn open, Adelaide beheld a -ponderous key and manifold bolts and fastenings within, and another -door beyond, while overhead, between the two, was a space open to the -air, but above which hung the lower edge of an iron portcullis ready -to descend. The lady saw her young companion's eyes turned up, and -answered her thoughts by saying, "The touch even of so weak a hand as -mine upon the machinery behind this other door will cause that gate to -descend in an instant, and cut off all communication between this -cottage and the convent garden. Thus, you see we have a sure escape -always nigh." As she spoke, she opened the other door, and Adelaide -following her as she advanced, found herself in the garden of the -convent of Heiligenstein. It was a calm and thoughtful-looking place, -surrounded by high walls of massive masonry, which towered up almost -to a level with the tops of the old trees. Of these there were many; -beeches and oaks, and elms, with here and there a dark yew, -contrasting strongly and solemnly with the light green foliage of the -rest. They were, nevertheless, not planted thick together; but each -tree stood detached, shadowing its own spot of ground; and beneath the -branches no brushwood was suffered to grow, nor weeds to encumber the -earth. The lower boughs, too, were cut away, to the height of six or -seven feet up the stem, so that those who wandered in the garden in -the summer could sit or stand in the cool shade, and meditate at their -leisure. The ground was generally covered with soft turf; but there -were many paths of pebbles laid side by side, and here and there was a -bed of such simple flowers as then ornamented the gardens of Europe. -Except where some of the nuns were seen walking two and two, and -speaking together in a low tone,--or where a solitary sister stood -cultivating some one particular bed which she had taken under her -especial care, all was still as death; and the only thing that seemed -endued with life and energy was the little stream, which, entering -from the hill above, flowed through the convent garden. - -The nuns nodded kindly to the lady when she passed any of them, and -gazed on Adelaide with inquiring eyes, turning the one to the other, -and talking glibly. The outward world visited them too rarely for even -an occasional glance of one of its denizens not to afford matter for -busy speculation. The young lady of Ehrenstein and her conductor, -however, went on in silence, under the green old quiet trees, and over -the soft cool turf, towards a pile of building with long curved -windows, ornamented in a lighter style than the rest of the convent. -Under a low, but wide-spreading tree, was a pointed door, apparently -ever open, and through it the two passed into the chapel. It was -lofty, if not spacious; and there was an air of misty gloom spread -through it which disposed the heart to prayer, while through the -stained glass windows of the chancel streamed a red and yellow light, -as if from the glories of a world beyond this life. Advancing slowly -to a chapel dedicated to "Our Lady of Good help," Adelaide's new -friend bent her knees, and offered up the prayer of the heart. -Adelaide knelt down also, and, though she spoke not aloud, her lips -moved, and thanks and praise, and entreaty, rose up from before that -altar to the Giver of all good, and the Protector from all evil. She -felt more comfort and refreshment from that prayer than sleep or food -had given; and, when she rose, her thought was, "One can bear much, -with hope and faith in God." - -She was yet destined, and that speedily, to need such support; but we -must turn to what had been passing elsewhere, but not far off. When -the mistress of the little cottage beneath the convent walls had left -her dwelling with her fair guest, all was quiet and peaceful; the -careful maid was busily engaged in the small entrance hall, brushing -the dust from the rare old furniture, raising, as she did so, a thin -cloud of motes, that went dancing away in a long line of sunshine -which streamed through the open door. The other servant was preparing -breakfast for her lady, on her return. Nought stirred in the garden -but the lizard on the wall, and the gay birds moving amongst the -leaves of the vines. The two ladies could not have reached the chapel, -however, when a head was raised over the garden wall at the corner -farthest from the entrance. Had there been doubt or suspicion, no eye -would have been turned in that direction; for there the moat that -enclosed the ground was broad and deep; and, whoever it was, who now -gazed quickly round that quiet little spot, he must have found some -means, by plank or ladder, of crossing the wide ditch. The maids in -the house continued their work, unconscious; no one saw the intruder, -no ear caught any sound of his proceedings; and, after having made his -furtive examination of the premises, he raised himself upon his arms, -swung himself over the wall, and, dropping down within the limits of -the garden, hid himself behind the vines. A moment after, another head -appeared; but the proceedings on this occasion were shorter than -before. There was no long scrutiny of the ground; but, leaping over at -once, this new visitor took up his position beside his companion. A -third, a fourth, followed; and Heaven knows how many more might have -thus poured in unperceived, had not a sudden ringing of the bell been -heard at the garden-gate, which as the reader is aware, lay on the -other side of the house, towards the village. So loud and sharp was -the sound, that the maid who was in the passage ran out at once, and -drew back the little wooden screen from the wicket. The face that -presented itself was that of one of the peasants of the neighbouring -village; and it was full of anxiety and apprehension. - -"There are men getting over into the garden," he cried; "and a number -more down beyond the corner of the wood. Run and tell the good lady." - -The woman turned round, with a scream; for the first glance to the -opposite side showed her three or four persons running from the far -angle of the garden. Darting back into the house, she rushed along the -passage, and through the doors which led to the convent. In her -terror, she said not a word to her fellow-servant; but the moment she -was within the convent-garden, she cast off the chain that upheld the -portcullis, and it fell with a tremendous clang, cutting off the -grounds of the nunnery from the cottage built against their walls. - -In the mean time, three of the men had entered the dwelling where -Adelaide had taken refuge the night before, and were searching it in -no very ceremonious manner; while the fourth rushed to the garden -gate, threw it open, and, running round to the angle, from which he -could see the neighbouring wood, took off his steel cap, and waved it -over his head as a signal to some persons at a distance. The moment -after, a large party of horse drew out from amongst the trees, and -rode up at a quick pace towards the cottage. A circumstance had -occurred, however, which the leader of that party had wished to avoid; -for the Count of Ehrenstein, though, as we have shown, a man of strong -and violent passions, was more cautious, both by habit and by nature, -than is usual with persons of his disposition. The peasant who had -given the alarm to the good woman at the cottage instantly hurried to -the great gates of the monastery, rang the bell, spoke a few words to -the portress, and then ran away to the village. - -In a minute or two after, the great bell of the convent rang loud and -clear, sending the deep waves of sound far over forest and field, -giving notice to a great distance round, that the nuns of -Heiligenstein were in danger, and required aid. Ere it had rung for -three minutes, the Abbess and several of the sisters appeared on the -battlemented portal of the gate, and made signs to some of the -horsemen who were now surrounding the cottage garden, expressive of a -desire to speak with them. No notice was taken for some time; but at -length, with a moody and disappointed brow, the Count of Ehrenstein -himself came out from the cottage, with a number of men who had -entered with him, and springing on his horse, rode up direct to the -gates of the convent. - -He seemed about to speak, but the Abbess, as well aware as any woman -of the advantage of the first word in a dispute, exclaimed, before he -could open his lips, "What seek you here, bold man; and how dare you -enter, like a thief, the grounds and dependencies of this convent?" - -"I seek for my own, my good lady and mother," replied the Count of -Ehrenstein, "and will take it wherever I find it, by fair means, if -peaceably yielded--by force, if withheld. You seem not to know me, -though we have seen each other before; and what you have heard of me -should make you understand that I am not one to be trifled with. You -have my daughter within these walls; that fact I have learned beyond -all doubt. Bring her out to me within five minutes, and all shall go -well. I will take off my bonnet, like a good and humble servant of the -Church, and thank you right courteously. But if you do not, my men -with their axes will, in half an hour, hew down these gates of yours, -and I will take boldly what I now ask reverently, though the night and -a wolf or two may find their way in through the holes I am obliged to -make." - -"This is all pretence," answered the Abbess. "You seek to plunder the -convent. I have never seen your daughter since she was an infant; and -you forge your cause of complaint, Count of Ehrenstein, in order to -commit violence against a body of women whom you think helpless. But, -thank God and our holy Mother, we are not without defence; and if you -attempt to touch the gates, the consequences be upon your own head. -Bid the men come up there, sister Louisa, and garnish the walls. I -take Heaven to witness, that if blood be shed, it is this man's doing, -for he seeks a vain pretence against me." - -One of the nuns here whispered a few words to the Abbess, and the -Abbess replied with an impatient gesture; but in the mean time, at a -signal from above, a number of men, armed in haste, with cross bows in -their hands, began to hurry up, their heads and shoulders appearing at -various parts of the wall, and over the battlements of the portal. At -the same time, the great bell, which had ceased while the Abbess and -the Count were speaking, commenced again its loud peal, and a crowd of -people were seen hurrying down from the hills beyond, while several -parties appeared running with whatever arms they could collect, from -the farther end of the village to a postern behind the convent. Every -thing, in short, seemed to promise, that there would speedily take -place one of the scenes so common in those days, when nunnery or abbey -was attacked by any of its unruly neighbours, and defended -successfully or unsuccessfully, not alone by the vassals, who were -bound by their tenure to serve in arms, but also by the peasantry, who -had generally many motives for gratitude and kindly feeling towards -the ecclesiastics and recluses who dwelt among them. - -The enterprise, however, seemed now somewhat more serious in the eyes -of the Count of Ehrenstein than he had previously expected. The words -of the Abbess were bold and resolute; her declaration that she had not -seen his daughter since she was an infant, had been spoken in a frank -and straightforward tone; the number of men who already crowded the -walls was considerable, and more were likely soon to arrive. Besides -this, the reputation of attacking a nunnery was not altogether that -which the Count of Ehrenstein could have desired; and he felt that he -could be by no means certain of what acts his soldiers might commit, -to bring down discredit on his name, even if he should be successful. - -These considerations made him hesitate; and spurring his horse -somewhat nearer to the gate, he said, "Lady Abbess, it is quite -possible my disobedient child may be here without your knowledge or -consent. I wish to do nothing rashly, wrongly, or unjustly; and to -show you that I am not using a false pretence to violate your rights, -although I have certain information that she is now here, I will give -you half an hour to seek for her, and bring her forth, provided you -stop the ringing of that bell. If you do not bring her forth within -that time, I must use my own right, and take her." - -The Abbess made no reply, but waved her hand, with an angry and -somewhat scornful expression; and, accompanied by the nuns, withdrew -from the walls, leaving them guarded by the armed men who had been -admitted. - -The first care of the Count of Ehrenstein was to prevent the entrance -of any more; and he accordingly detached a small party to guard the -postern at the back of the convent. He then held a conversation with -Seckendorf and old Karl von Mosbach, and, although the bell still -continued to ring, he delayed the threatened attack, withdrawing his -men out of the reach of the crossbows, and watching, with somewhat -anxious eyes, the progress of the peasantry who were coming down the -hills, and who, when they saw the postern guarded by his horsemen, -gathered in one body of considerable strength upon the nearest slope. -When about twenty minutes had elapsed, some movements towards the -attack might be observed amongst his soldiery; several small trees -were cut down, and shaped into various implements with the axe. Twelve -stout men dismounted, and were formed in two lines before the rest; -and, judging by these signs, that more active operations were about to -commence, the cross-bowmen on the walls might be seen fitting their -quarrels to the string; and some of them seemed marking out the -principal figures amongst the assailants for the first shot. - -Before they proceeded further, however, the Count once more rode -forward to the gate, whispering a word before he went to old Karl von -Mosbach, who immediately led five or six men round to the cottage -garden, and disappeared amongst the vines. - -The Count, as soon as he was within hearing, called to a burly yeoman, -who seemed in command above the gate, and bade him send for the -Abbess, as he wanted to speak with her again. A few minutes elapsed -before she appeared; but as soon as she came forward, the Count -addressed her, saying, "You have now, Lady Abbess, had full time to -inquire and learn whether my child be within your gates or not. You -know well that she is. I see it on your face; and I, as her father, -summon you to bring her forth, and yield her to my lawful authority. -If not, the evil consequences, whatever they may be, rest upon your -head, not mine; for you dare not and cannot deny that she is at this -moment in the convent." - -The countenance of the Abbess--it was a venerable and amiable one, -though somewhat touched with pride--was certainly troubled; but still -she replied boldly, and at once, "Your daughter, my lord the Count, is -at the altar of Our Lady of good help, and that is _sanctuary_. I knew -not, when I spoke to you before, that she was within these walls; but -even had I known it, I must have refused to give her up. I no more -dare to take her from sanctuary than you do; and therefore I tell you -to withdraw your men from these gates,--to return home to your own -dwelling, and to leave this holy place in peace." - -"Away with such idle words!" cried the Count, furiously; "what -sanctuary shall shield a child from her father, whom she has offended? -Will you bring her forth at once, or I will fire your convent and your -sanctuary together? Advance, Seckendorf!" - -"Take but one step towards these gates, and the deepest curses of the -church shall fall upon you all," cried the Abbess. "What, shall not -the sanctuary, which gives safety even to the homicide, with his -fellow's blood red upon his hand, shield an innocent child from the -fury of her rash and violent father? Bend your bows, my children, and -defend these holy walls to the last, if they be attacked." - -"On, Seckendorf, on!" cried the Count, waving his hand; but the old -knight rode forward alone, while a quarrel from one of the cross-bows, -discharged by somewhat too eager a hand, rang upon his casque. - -"There is a trumpet, my lord the Count," said the good old soldier, -paying no more attention to the missile than if it had been a -snow-ball thrown by a boy in sport; "better see who is coming, before -we begin: if they be friends, they will help us; if enemies, it were -well not to let them take us in the flank." - -The Count looked round, with a gloomy brow, and a fierce rolling eye, -in the direction towards which Seckendorf had pointed. No one was yet -visible; but the woods and hills screened the roads round about till -they came very near the village; and the sounds of a trumpet was heard -again, clear and distinct, mingling shrilly with the low dull peal of -the great bell of the convent. - -"Help is at hand!" cried the Abbess. "Bold man, you will repent this:" -and, almost as she spoke, two figures appeared at the opening of the -road that led away towards Spires. One was a gentleman of the middle -age, unarmed, but mounted on a powerful charger. The other was a monk, -if one might judge by his garments, riding a mule well nigh as -spirited as a horse. - -"Father George, I think," cried Seckendorf; "but who is that with him? -There are more behind." - -The next instant the head of a troop of horse was seen, with several -officers in arms, a herald, two trumpeters, and a banner; and, as two -and two the men-at-arms issued forth, at a quick pace, the Count of -Ehrenstein soon perceived that his own force was far inferior. - -"Gather the men together, Seckendorf," he cried; "call Mosbach and his -men out of the cottage; bring the party back from the postern there, -and secure that road by the left of the village. We must retreat. Who, -in the fiend's name, can these be?" - -"It is an imperial banner, Sir," answered the old knight, ere he rode -back to the troop to execute the orders he received. - -In the mean while the other parry advanced rapidly: they crossed the -little stream, were lost for a minute behind an orchard,--their heads -and shoulders, banners and lances, were then seen over the walls of -the cottage-garden; and in another moment the officer in command -halted his men within fifty yards of the convent gate. After a few -words to those behind, he pushed his horse forward, accompanied by -Father George, and followed by the herald and one of the trumpeters. -"What is all this?" he cried, in a loud, stern tone: "why is the alarm -bell of this holy place ringing so loud? and what are these armed men -doing before the walls of Heiligenstein?" - -"The Count of Ehrenstein comes to force a penitent from the sanctuary -of our Lady's altar," cried the Abbess, waving her hand for the bell -to cease; "and he was about to force our gates and burn the convent. -Thank God! and all the saints, for your coming, noble Count." - -"I am here, Count Rudolph of Schönborn," said the Count of Ehrenstein, -riding a little forward, and smoothing his brow, "to claim my -disobedient daughter at the hands of these good sisters, who do not -deny that she is within their walls; and it was certainly my -determination to take her hence, with as little force as might be, -upon their refusal to give her up upon the pretence of sanctuary. I -trust that you, as a father yourself, and a brother noble, will aid me -to make this reverend lady hear reason,--for who ever knew of -sanctuary protecting a refractory child from her parent's due -authority?" - -"I know no limit to the shelter of a sanctuary, my good lord," replied -Count Rudolph. "Even I, myself, though now armed with the Emperor's -authority, must respect it, as you will soon see. As to forcing the -gates of a holy place like this, and threatening to burn it down, even -as a menace, it is a high offence, my lord." - -"A usual one with this noble Count," said Father George, "as I showed -the Emperor this morning." - -"Ha, poisonous reptile!" cried the Count of Ehrenstein, giving way to -a burst of fury; "have you been spitting your venom so far from your -own den? Who made my child--the sweetest, gentlest girl that ever -lived--despise her father's authority, fly from her home, and wed a -beggarly outcast? Who prompted his brother's bastard to seduce from -her duty the daughter of his lord? But there is vengeance yet in -store." - -"My lord the Count," replied Father George, calmly, "I might put -questions to you more difficult to answer than these will prove to me. -When you ask them in fit presence, as I believe you will soon have -occasion, I am ready to reply; but the matter is now in other hands, -and there I will leave it for the time." - -"I will leave my cause with you in no other hands," answered the Count -of Ehrenstein, fiercely; "sooner or later I will have vengeance. It -were vain now, I see," he continued, turning to Count Rudolph, "to try -to enforce my right here to the custody of my own child, as you, sir, -refuse to give me aid; and therefore----" - -"Stay yet a moment, my lord of Ehrenstein," said Count Rudolph; "my -whole mission refers to you: and, first, as to your daughter, you had -better witness what steps I take. My dear lady Abbess," he continued, -advancing close to the gates, "I was commanded by the Emperor, my lord -and friend, to seek the lady Adelaide, of Ehrenstein, here, and to -bring her to the Imperial Court at Spires, there to live, under my -good wife's protection, till her case can be fully considered. As, -however, she has claimed sanctuary, far be it from me even to think of -taking her from it without her free consent. Give her, therefore, my -message, and tell her, that if she be willing to go with me, I pledge -my knightly word, at any time that she may require it, to restore her -to her place of refuge, and defend her there against all men." - -"I will tell her, my lord," replied the Abbess, "and doubtless she -will readily go with one so noble and so true." - -"I will not stay here," cried the Count of Ehrenstein, "to be mocked -and set at nought by my rebellious child.--Mount the men, Mosbach, and -march." - -"One moment more, my lord," said Count Rudolph; "I was bound for -Ehrenstein, had I not so fortunately found you here; so that I am -saved a farther journey. You are accused, my lord, before the Imperial -Chamber, of several high offences, and----" - -"And you are ordered, perhaps, to arrest me," said the Count, reining -back his horse towards his troop: "be it at your own peril,--I am not -very tame." - -"You mistake, sir," said Count Rudolph; "I am ordered formally to -summon you to appear to-morrow before the Emperor's court at Spires; -there to answer any charges that may be brought against you. Advance, -herald, and read the summons." - -The herald immediately spurred forward his horse, till he was somewhat -in advance of Count Rudolph and Father George, and then, drawing forth -a parchment with a large seal, he read aloud, in a dull and monotonous -voice, a formal summons for the Count of Ehrenstein to appear, as -Count Rudolph had announced. After he had concluded, he waved his -truncheon thrice in the air, and each time the trumpeter behind blew a -loud short blast. - -"And now, my good lord, I may as well ask whether you will appear, or -not?" said Count Rudolph, as soon as this ceremony was over. - -"I love to have time to consider all things," answered the Count of -Ehrenstein. "To-morrow will be time enough for my determination to -appear: and now, my lord, farewell. I trust your daughter may prove as -obedient as mine, and may find friends, as wise and powerful as -yourself, to aid and encourage her in the course she chooses." - -Thus saying, with a bitter smile, and every angry passion in his -heart, the Count of Ehrenstein turned his horse and rode away, his -retainers following, and old Seckendorf keeping a wary eye to the -rear, lest any attack should be made upon their retreating party, -either by the force of Count Rudolph, or the armed peasantry who had -gathered on the hill. - - - - -CHAPTER XL. - - -It is a common maxim that time destroys falsehood, and leaves truth -intact. This may be true in the abstract; for truth, in its nature is -indestructible; but as the mind of man is always more or less in a -misty state, and his perception of no object very clear and distinct; -even that which is true in the abstract he often renders false in -application by various errors of his own, and by none more frequently -than by using that in a figurative sense which is only just in a -definite sense. No maxim has thus been more perverted than the one I -have cited, that time destroys falsehood, but leaves truth intact. It -has been used figuratively; it has had its signification extended; it -has had its very terms altered; and we find it at last changed so as -to assert that time destroys falsehood, but brings truth to light. In -this form, however, it is altogether inadmissible. Time may destroy -falsehood, as anything else that is perishable. It may sometimes bring -truth to light; but it does neither always; and this is one of the -vulgar maxims of the world, of which we have so many, intended to -support morality, but, in fact, destroying it; for the key-stone of -morals is truth. Society manufactures facts just as it builds houses -and churches, forms rings, or swords, or bracelets. The real deeds, -and thoughts, and feelings of men, and the false assertions concerning -them--all, in short, that forms the great mass of history,--are cast -down, broken, mutilated, and covered over with the mud and ashes of -passing generations, as age follows age; but the truth lies buried as -well as the falsehood; and the waves of time that overlay them with -the refuse, and lumber, and dirt of a hundred centuries, from hour to -hour, roll up the fragments to the feet of those who stand upon the -dry strand of the present; or else man's busy and inquisitive hand -digs them up; and--as we search amongst the ruins of a past city, for -the gems and jewels, the sculpture and the painting of races now no -more, casting from us what is worthless--so seek we amongst the -records of the former times (if we are wise), preserving what is true -and precious, and throwing away what is false. Yet how much useless -lumber and unsubstantial trash is retained and valued in both cases. -What history is not full of lies!--what cabinet uncrowded with -fabrications! - -Perhaps in no case whatever has time given us so little truth as in -regard to many points relating to the religions institutions of the -middle ages. The gross and horrible superstitions and corruptions of -the Romish church, and the ambitious motives and eager thirst for -domination that existed in her hierarchy, acted as a sort of deluge, -overwhelming and hiding many excellent results--much that was -fine--much that was holy--much that was pure. The subject is vast, and -is receiving more attention now than it ever has done since the -Reformation; but I have to do with only one point. The monasteries and -nunneries of those days have been represented, generally, as places of -mere idleness, or idleness and vice; and yet, at the periods when they -were established, and for centuries after, they operated in many -respects most beneficially. They were the countercheck to feudal power -and tyranny; a refuge to the people in the time of oppression; a sure -support in the hour of need. There were drawbacks, certainly; they -were the manufactories of superstitions, the citadels of the enemy in -a fierce war against the human mind. Still they did much good, in some -directions, in their day. The lives of the recluses have been severely -criticised; they have, upon the faith of some shocking instances, been -represented as full of wickedness and corruption; and yet in general -the people loved them. There cannot be a doubt of it,--especially the -people of the country; for the new risen communes were generally -inimical to them. - -At all events, the peasantry round the convent of Heiligenstein were -devotedly attached to the good sisters, who, living amongst them, -witnessed their joys and sorrows, alleviated their sufferings, -wherever it was possible, and sympathised with them whenever they had -no other balm to give. Simple in their lives, kind in their dealings, -liberal of their wealth, for which they had no other employment but -charity, and spreading those human affections which were denied an -individual object over the whole race, the nuns were pardoned easily a -little spiritual pride, as the alloy of the finer qualities which they -constantly displayed. The armed peasants, who had hurried to their -rescue, would willingly have shed their blood in defence of their -friends and benefactors; and a menacing movement took place amongst -them as the soldiery of the Count of Ehrenstein withdrew. A message, -sent in haste by the Abbess, stopped any hostile proceeding; but a -loud shout of derision, harder to bear, perhaps, than actual assault, -followed the Count, and worked up his anger almost to madness. - -Count Rudolph of Schönborn, turned a quick and somewhat angry glance -towards them, for although a kind and noble hearted man, he was not by -any means without the prejudices of his class; and he felt the -indignity offered to another noble as an insult to his whole order. He -might, indeed, have added sharp words to his fierce look, but the -voice of the Abbess, speaking from above, caught his ear, and he -advanced, inquiring, "What says the Lady Adelaide?" - -"I have not given her your message yet, my good lord," was the reply; -"I stayed to see what would happen to that bad Count of Ehrenstein. -But I have ordered the gates to be thrown open for you, my noble lord, -and refreshment to be prepared for your men, in the village. You had -better see the lady yourself, poor thing. Doubtless, her father's -harsh, bad temper has driven her to fly from him. He killed her -mother, who was as sweet a girl as ever lived, and my dear friend, in -childhood." - -"Killed her!" exclaimed Count Rudolph in surprise. - -"Nay, she means but by unkindness, my lord Count," replied Father -George. "There are murders which no law but that of God will reach; -but I cannot but think, that to slay the innocent and good by daily -torture, cold looks, harsh words, and deeds bitterer than blows, is as -great or greater a crime than to end life quickly by the dagger or the -phial. But see, my lord, the gates are open. Will you not enter? I -shall beg leave to accompany you within, for my words may have more -power with the lady than those of a stranger, however noble." - -"We must not be long," answered Count Rudolph; and advancing to the -gates, he entered the outer court of the convent where the Abbess -stood ready to receive him, with all marks of gratitude and respect. -She did not, indeed, lead him to the interior of the building, but -took her way to the parlour of the lodge, where she ordered -refreshments to be brought instantly, and then, at the request of the -Count, sent for poor Adelaide of Ehrenstein. Father George she seemed -to know well, and though they were too courteous to converse apart in -Count Rudolph's presence, their looks held a mute conversation, till, -at length, the door of the parlour again opened, and Adelaide -appeared, clinging with unsubdued terror to the lady with whom she had -found refuge, whose face also was grave and apprehensive. The sight of -Father George, however, seemed to revive and encourage them both. -Adelaide at once sprang towards him and kissed his hand, and the lady -greeted him with a bright and well satisfied smile. To the one, his -manner was kind and paternal; to the other, reverent and courteous; -but Adelaide, ere she even looked round to Count Rudolph, whispered, -"Ferdinand, Father? Ferdinand? I have not seen him." - -"He is safe, my child," said the old monk, in a low tone; "fear not; -the crisis is coming; and you will now find that the promises I made -are fulfilled. You have still to play your part, my child; but look -upon it as a blessing from Heaven, that you have the opportunity of -playing that part, and I trust of saving those most dear to you." - -"Have you told the lady?" asked Count Rudolph, interrupting the monk, -as he was going on. - -"No, my good lord," answered Father George, "I have not ventured to -give your message in your own presence." - -Count Rudolph advanced towards Adelaide, and with a graceful, though -somewhat stately air, he said, "Your case, lady, has come before my -lord the Emperor in two forms: first, by private information from a -source in which he seems to have some confidence; and next, by an open -statement, made this morning, a few minutes before I set out--and of -which, by the way, I know nothing--by my reverend and very good friend -here, Father George. His Imperial Majesty seems to have been greatly -touched by the account given to him, and he despatched me in haste to -request your presence at his court at Spires. To satisfy any doubts -that you might have, he required me to assure you of the protection -and motherly care of my good wife, the Countess Schönborn, which she -will give you, I may say, willingly and frankly, as if you were a -child of her own. The Emperor knew not, when he sent me, that you had -taken sanctuary, and thus he spoke in the tone of command; but being -well aware that no one has greater reverence for the church than he, I -dare use nothing but entreaty now, assuring you, upon my knightly word -and honour, that at your request, I will restore you to this place of -refuge, and there defend you to the best of my power, should it be -needful." - -Adelaide paused, and made no reply for a moment, looking to Father -George, as if for counsel. "Go, my child, go," he said. "Great things -are on the eve of decision in the Emperor's court. It is needful that -you should be present; for it often happens that a woman's voice, -wisely employed, mitigates the severity of man's justice, and acts the -sweetest part of Heaven on earth; go, my child, go. With this good -lord's inviolable word to guard you, you are as safe at Spires as -here." - -Adelaide gently clasped her hands together, and looked down upon the -ground for a moment or two, lost in deep thought. It was not that she -hesitated, it was not that she asked herself, "Shall I, or shall I -not, quit this place of sure and peaceful refuge, to mingle again with -the strifes and confusion of the world?" for her mind was made up; -and, thus far advanced, she was ready to go on. But it was that she -saw many a painful hour before her, and she asked herself, "How shall -I surmount all the anguish and the difficulty of the hour? Will my -courage fail, will my bodily strength give way? Will God help me at my -need, and strengthen me to do his appointed task?" As she thus -thought, her hands pressed closer together, and her lips murmured, -"Christ help me!" Then turning to Count Rudolph, she said, "I am ready -to go, my lord, in obedience to the Emperor's command, and trusting to -your word." - -She did not venture to say more, and Count Rudolph showed some -inclination to depart; but the Abbess besought him to pause awhile, -till both he and the lady had partaken of some refreshment. To speak -the truth, he was not averse to a supply of good meat and wine; for he -had ridden far, and was at all times blessed with a good appetite. He -made Adelaide his excuse, however; and while he courteously -complimented her in somewhat formal speeches, according to the custom -of the day, Father George spoke eagerly, but apart, to the lady who -had been Adelaide's hostess, and then called the Abbess to their -consultation. Like a hill-side under cloud and sunshine, the cheek of -the lady glowed and turned pale by turns, as she listened to the words -which the monk spoke. She gazed down upon the ground, she looked up to -the sky, her eyes filled with tears, her limbs trembled; and ere she -answered, she sat down upon a settle, as if overpowered by what was -said. - -"This is foolish and weak," she exclaimed, at length. "I will not -shrink from the task, and why should I dread the peril? For him have I -lived, for his sake have I endured the burden of existence, which -otherwise would have long since crushed me. 'Tis but the habit of -concealment and apprehension that engenders these foolish fears; and I -will shake them off. Father, you tell me it is right to go, and I will -go, if death should be my portion." - -"Joy may be your portion, daughter," answered Father George, laying -his right hand lightly, but impressively, upon her shoulder;--"joy, -brighter, deeper, than you have known for years, perhaps than you have -known in life--It may be so. I say not that it will; but surely, to -see your son raised to the summit of your highest hopes, is sufficient -motive even for a greater risk." - -"It is--it is," answered the lady; "and I will go, good Father; but do -not abandon me, do not leave me to meet a strange court, and scenes -such as I have not seen for years, alone. I shall feel like some of -the wild creatures of the woods, suddenly caught, and brought before a -thousand gazing eyes." - -"I will go with you, daughter," answered Father George, "for your -sake, and for that dear child's; I will not leave you as long as there -is aught doubtful in your fate. If wrong has been committed, it is -mine; and I will abide the issue with you." - -While this conversation had taken place between Father George and the -lady, with the Abbess listening, and joining in from time to time, -Count Rudolph had applied himself to soothe and encourage Adelaide, -and he had made some progress in quieting her apprehension, when the -refreshments which had been ordered were brought in. The worthy Count -undoubtedly did more justice to the good fare than any of the other -persons present; but he despatched his present task rapidly; and then, -after pausing for a moment to see if his companions would take -anything more, he rose, as a signal for departure. - -Several little interludes had taken place, and all the by-play which -must occur in such a scene. Lay-sisters had come in and gone out; two -men had even appeared in the parlour, had received orders, and taken -their departure; but the Count had paid little attention, and was -somewhat surprised in the end to find that he was to have another -companion besides the Lady Adelaide. He was too courteous to offer any -objection, however; and in a short time the whole party were on their -way to Spires. - -We need not notice the incidents of the journey, which were few and of -no importance. Refreshed by a night's rest, Adelaide was far less -fatigued than Bertha had been the night before; but still, as they -entered the city, then in its splendour and its pride, filled with a -moving multitude, and displaying in its streets all the pageantry of -commerce, of arms, and of royalty, with gay cavalcades at every -corner, with marching troops, with sounding trumpets, with gaily -decorated booths and shops, and with innumerable human beings, all -occupied with themselves, or with thoughts totally alien to her -feelings, situation, and anticipations, Adelaide felt lost and -abandoned in the crowd, and her heart sank with a greater feeling of -desolation than ever she had felt in the wildest scenes of her own -hills. - -Such sensations were increased when they approached the palace, and -beheld a multitude of guards and attendants, armed and on horseback, -surrounding a small open space, in the midst of which was seen a -magnificent charger, held by two grooms; while, with one knee bent to -the ground, a man of lordly aspect, held a gilded stirrup, to which -another, of the middle age, robed in royal splendour, placed his foot, -and then vaulted into the saddle. - -Count Rudolph reined in his horse, and the whole party halted, while -the Emperor putting himself at the head of his train, rode past, -merely noticing his friend and companion by an inclination of the -head. As soon as the Imperial troop had marched by, Lady Adelaide was -conducted to the palace, and led, by nearly the same course which -Bertha had followed the night before, to two rooms which had been -prepared for her. Father George followed, but paused at the door, -saying, "I must seek myself lodging in the priory; but before I go, -dear lady, let me tell you, I find, from the words of the Emperor this -morning, that your maid Bertha is here. I learned late last night, -that your party had been intercepted by one of the three men who fled; -and I set off two hours before daybreak, to inquire into the fate of -all. You will need your maid to attend upon you, and I will ask one of -the pages to send her. Moreover," he added, in a low voice, "it is -needful to know what she has said to the Emperor; not that I wish you -to have any concealment from him; for he may know all; indeed, he does -know all, as far as I can tell it; and it will be well for you to show -him the motives on which you have acted, and to plead at once for that -lenity, of which some who have offended may have great need. Now, for -the present, farewell, my child, and farewell too, dear lady; I shall -see you both again ere night." - -Thus saying, Father George left his fair companions, and in a moment -or two after, Bertha ran into the room, and threw her arms round her -fair mistress, kissing her tenderly, but gazing upon the stranger who -was with her in some surprise. - -"Oh! dearest lady," she cried, in her usual gay tone, "I have been in -sad terror about you, and about myself too, ever since we parted. I -knew you were little fit to take care of yourself where you were; and -I soon found I was little fit to take care of myself where I was; for -Bertha in a court was quite as much lost as Adelaide in a wood; but -Heaven took care of us both it seems. Yet I must hear all that, has -happened to you; for by no stretch of imagination can I conceive how -one so little experienced in the tangled ways of life, could get out -of that forest in the night time--unless indeed, Father George came to -your help; for that wild boy of a page tells me, a monk sent him to -call me to you--pray, let me hear all." - -"You will hear in good time, maiden," said the elder lady, somewhat -gravely; "but at present, it is needful that you should tell your -mistress all that has taken place between yourself and the Emperor; -for we know not when he may return and call for her; and it is right -that she should hear what has been said." - -"Oh, I will tell what I said to him, in a minute," answered Bertha, -laughing; "but I must not tell all he said to me, for that would be -betraying Majesty's confidence--though it would serve him right too; -for great men in furs and velvets should not try to make fools of poor -girls." - -"I seek not, my good Bertha," replied Adelaide, "to hear aught that he -said to you. That does not concern me; but Father George seems to -think that you told him much respecting me, and--" - -"I told him all I knew, dear lady, and all I guessed," answered -Bertha; "but it was not till he had promised me, upon his royal word, -pardon for myself, and help for you, in case of need. But to my story, -such as it is--first, I told him that you were lost in the wood, which -I described as well as I could; and, moreover, that if you were out of -it, you would be as much puzzled to find your way either through the -mazes of the country or the mazes of your fate, as if you remained in. -Then he asked me a great number of questions, to which I could only -answer by guess--such as Whether you were really married to Ferdinand -of Altenburg? and I told him, I felt very sure of it, though I did not -see the ring put on with my own eyes." - -Adelaide's cheek grew somewhat crimson, but the lady who was with her -asked, "Well, what more?" - -"Why then, Madam, he inquired," continued Bertha, "Who Ferdinand of -Altenburg really was? and I told him that I fancied he was of higher -rank than he seemed, and of better hopes and fortunes too." - -"I think you must have omitted something, dear Bertha," said Adelaide; -"for how came he to ask if I were married to Ferdinand of Altenburg, -if you told him nothing of poor Ferdinand before?" - -"That puzzled me as much as it does you, lady," replied Bertha; "but -there were a thousand things besides that, which made me feel sure -that he had got nearly as good information as I could give, from some -one else. I went to him in the nun's gown, and he took me for you at -first; but when he found out the mistake, he questioned me closely, I -can assure you. Amongst other things, I told him that it was high time -for both you and Ferdinand to run away, inasmuch as I believed, if you -had staid, my good and merciful lord, your father, would have chopped -both your heads off. Then he asked if you were very handsome, and I -said Not particularly; for it seemed to me that this mighty Kaiser had -a great faculty of falling in love, and that if I told him how -beautiful you really are, you might find it unpleasant." - -"Hush! hush! Bertha," said Adelaide; "there is no fear of the Emperor -falling in love with either of us. You must not mistake mere courtly -words for lover's professions." - -"Well, I wish I were safe out of the place," answered Bertha; "for, on -my life! these courtly words are very warm ones; and as summer is hard -by, the air is hot enough without them. But to my tale again I told -him, in short, that I thought you were married; that I knew you had -long loved; that I believed you knew who Ferdinand of Altenburg really -is, as well or better than he does himself, and that I was quite sure -you acted for the best in giving him your hand without your father's -knowledge. On that he questioned me a long while, as to whether love -would not make a woman do anything, and whether you had not listened -to love instead of duty. I said No; that love would do great things, -but not all, and that, whatever his Majesty might think, there were -some women who would not do what they knew to be wrong, even for -love." - -"You said well, Bertha;--you said well," answered Adelaide, casting -down her eyes thoughtfully, and questioning her own heart as to how -far love had made her lend a willing ear to persuasions that took the -voice of duty. But the elder lady bent her head approvingly towards -the maid, and gave her a well pleased smile. - -Bertha's tale was soon concluded, and for a while both the ladies -mused over her account. The elder seemed not dissatisfied with what -she stated had taken place, but there were parts of the maid's -narrative which created some uneasy feeling in Adelaide's breast.--She -had previously shrunk from meeting a monarch to whom she might be -obliged to speak of feelings and actions which she would fain have -left in silence for ever, although the feelings might be pure and -noble, and the actions just and right; but she gathered from Bertha's -words that there had been a lightness of tone in the Emperor's -conversation which might well increase her apprehensions and make the -timid modesty of her nature almost deviate into terror. Her cheek -turned pale as she thus thought, and the watchful eye of her elder -companion saw the change. - -"You are somewhat faint and weary, my dear child," she said; "I wonder -that the Countess of Schönborn has not yet appeared. She would -doubtless procure you some refreshment." - -"I can do that as well, Madam," answered Bertha, turning gaily to the -door. "In the Emperor's absence, I command the buttery, and the -cellar, and am humbly served, I can tell you.--Here, slave," she -continued, opening the door and speaking to some one in the passage; -"bring these ladies some food and wine; and be quick, if you would -merit favour." - -Adelaide smiled, inquiring, "Who have you there, giddy girl?" - -"Oh, one who has vowed humble service this morning," answered Bertha; -"and as I hope and trust his bondage will not be long, I may as well -use my reign imperiously." - -In a few minutes, the page whom we have seen before came in with an -inferior servant bearing refreshments; but ere Adelaide and her -companions had tasted much, Count Rudolph of Schönborn and his -Countess were announced, and ushered in with more of the pomp and -state of high station than had yet been seen in the Retscher. To the -surprise of both Adelaide and her companion, it was to the latter that -the Countess of Schönborn first addressed herself, and that with an -air of deep deference and respect. - -"Although it was to this young lady--whom I take to be the Lady -Adelaide of Ehrenstein," the Countess said,--"that my husband promised -my protection and support, yet, Madam, as my good friend, Father -George of Altenburg, has made me acquainted with much concerning you, -let me first offer you any courtesy or attention I can show." - -"I may doubtless yet much need your favour, Madam," replied the lady; -"and will seek it frankly, with many thanks that it is frankly -offered; but, for the time, this dear child requires countenance and -help, such as I ought to have power myself to give her, were it not -for the wrong I suffer." - -The Countess's next address was to Adelaide; but it gave the poor girl -but small comfort or support; for though she wished to be kind and -considerate, Count Rudolph's worthy dame knew not rightly how. Stately -and ceremonious, she was not fitted to console under misfortune, or -inspire confidence in difficulty. She was one of those people who are -ever ready to do a real service or confer an important favour, but who -make even bounty burdensome by the manner in which it is exercised. -Oh, how poor and unequal is the exchange thus sought, of deference for -regard! Strange, strange must be the constitution of those minds who -prefer reverence to affection. Words of course, formal courtesies, -were all that passed between the Lady Adelaide and her visitor, and -although Heaven knows the poor girl had little pride in her nature, -and her heart was as gentle as the summer air, yet such was the -influence of the Countess's manner upon her that she became cold and -almost haughty in demeanour. Perhaps it might do her good, however; -for deeply depressed as she was, ignorant of the fate of those she -loved best, anxious and apprehensive in regard to the event of each -coming hour, she required something to rouse her from her despondency, -and recall her thoughts from the dreary looking forward to the future. - -The Countess of Schönborn staid long, and only retired when the sound -of trumpets announced the Emperor's return; but, strange as it may -seem, though her demeanour had certainly not much pleased Adelaide, -yet Adelaide had much pleased her. Her cold stateliness had generated -the same; she herself had been reflected from Adelaide's mind as from -a glass; and as she valued herself highly, she was well satisfied with -the image. - -"She is a dignified and high-minded young woman," said the Countess to -her husband, as they went away; "and I am quite sure that, whatever -men may say, she would never do aught unworthy of her rank and -station." - -Count Rudolph knew more of human nature than his wife; he understood -the process by which the fair girl had become so different a creature -in the Emperor's palace from what she had been at the convent and by -the way; and he smiled, but without reply. - -When they were gone, Adelaide's heart sank again; she expected each -minute to be called to the presence of the monarch, and all her fears -and apprehensions returned. Bertha, who knew her well, easily divined -what was passing in her heart, and strove to console and cheer her, -saying, "Indeed, dear lady, you, who fear no ghosts, need not fear any -emperors. They are a much tamer sort of cattle than we have any notion -of till we come near them--somewhat frolicsome, but no way frightful." - -"Alas! my poor Bertha," answered the lady, "we have all our own -particular objects of fear; and that which might reassure you, would -terrify me. I am in no sportive humour myself, and I could easier bear -a reproof just now than a jest." - -Still no summons came: hour after hour passed by, and Adelaide began -to think she was forgotten. A short visit from Father George tended in -some degree to break the heavy tedium of expectation; but he remained -not more than ten minutes, and during that time he was engrossed in -eager and private conversation with the lady of the cottage. He was -evidently hurried, and Adelaide thought she saw more agitation in his -manner than she had ever before witnessed. Her fears increased; she -asked herself if aught had gone wrong; if his plans, like so many -other well-devised schemes, had failed; but the calm demeanour of her -fair companion when he was gone, reassured her in a degree; and at -length just as the light that streamed through the long windows was -growing somewhat fainter, the expected summons came, and she rose to -obey it. - -"I would fain go with you, my dear child," said the elder lady, in her -low, musical voice; "but I fear I must not on this occasion." - -"I know it--I know it," answered Adelaide, "but, strange to say, I -fear less now than I did a moment ago. Expectation is fear." - -Thus saying, she departed, and, preceded by two officers of the -palace, was conducted to the room where the Emperor awaited her. He -fixed his eyes steadfastly upon her for a moment as she entered--then -advanced, as she would have knelt, prevented her from doing so, and -led her to a seat. - -Physiognomy is generally looked upon as an idle science, not, indeed, -deserving of the name. All must admit that it is an uncertain one; but -yet there is something in the human countenance, whether it be in -feature or in expression, or in both combined, which has its effect -upon every one. We judge by it, even when we know not that we are -judging; we act in consequence of its indications without being aware -that we are influenced by it. The monarch, while he imagined that the -girl Bertha was the daughter of the Count of Ehrenstein, had demeaned -himself towards her in a very different manner from that which he now -displayed towards Adelaide. It was that her appearance had produced a -very different impression. There is an alchemy in a high heart, which -transmutes other things to its own quality. He was calm and grave, but -mild and kind; and, as he saw that his fair visitor was somewhat -agitated, he soothed her tenderly, more in the tone of a father than a -sovereign. - -"Do not be alarmed, my dear young lady," he said: "I am neither going -to speak harsh words nor ask idle questions. Your whole tale has been -told to me by lips that could not lie; therefore all discussion of the -past is useless. It remains but for me to do the best I can to render -you happy, to right what has been done wrong, and, if a fair -opportunity be given me, to temper justice, as far as possible, with -mercy. With such purposes and such wishes, all I have to ask of you -is, will you trust me?--will you place full confidence in me, and not -act in any shape till I let you know the time is come?" - -"Oh! Sire," exclaimed Adelaide, in a tone of deep gratitude, "you are -too kind and too noble for me to doubt you for an instant. Command, -and I will obey." - -"Well, then," replied the Emperor; "be prepared in an hour's time to -set out on a journey of some length. A litter shall be ready for you, -as you have already had much fatigue;--and fear not," he added, seeing -that she cast down her eyes thoughtfully: "you will be surrounded by -friends, and guarded against all danger." - -"There is a lady here with me, Sire," replied Adelaide, "whose fate, I -feel, is in some way connected with mine." - -"I know, I know," replied the Emperor, with a smile: "she will go with -you; her presence is as necessary as your own, as doubtless you are -well aware. And now, farewell. I will not keep you longer. Be ready, -and fear nothing." - - - - -CHAPTER XLI. - - -The sky was as black as ink; not a star was to be seen through the -dark veil of clouds; no moon had yet risen to shed even a faint -glimmer through the heavy vapours that over spread the heaven. Woods -and hills were around, and all was darkness over the scene, except -where from a tall and extensive building, with six long pointed -windows on either side, streamed forth a red and somewhat sombre -blaze, lighting some of the larger objects in the immediate -neighbourhood: the large masses of an oak, a tall projecting rock, and -a crucifix of stone mounted on six steps. It was the chapel between -Hardenberg and Mosbach, and the hour of midnight was nearly come. On -either side of the door of the chapel stood a man-at-arms of the house -of Leiningen, with a broad battle-axe on his shoulder; and the large -door itself was thrown back, emitting the light, as well as the -windows. Within, the scene was somewhat striking. For many years the -old building had not beheld such a light, for the abbey to which it -had been formerly attached, had been suppressed about thirty years -before, on account of gross irregularities, and the revenues -attributed, part to the Bishop of Spires, and part to the Abbey of -Limburg. Doubtless it was the intention of the authorities who -performed this act of severity, that the chapel, which had been a -great convenience to the neighbouring peasantry, should be kept up, -and service performed therein; but, as in the act of suppression, it -was not distinctly specified who was to bear the expenses of its -maintenance, neither of the parties who benefited by the confiscation -had thought fit to undertake the task: the service ceased; the -building was neglected; and ruin and dilapidation was fast taking hold -of it. - -Now, however, between each pair of the twelve tall columns that -supported the broken roof, stood a man with a torch in his hand, the -red glare of which poured over the grey stone-work, and showed even -the green stains that damp winter had left upon the masonry. Just -within the door stood a trumpeter with his trumpet in his hand; and at -the farther end of the chapel, with one or two of his friends and -attendants round him, his head somewhat bent, and his face thoughtful, -stood Count Frederick of Leiningen. A little farther down, gathered -together in a small knot under one of the arches, appeared four -gentlemen wrapped in long, dark mantles, but bearing on their heels -the gilded spurs of knighthood; and in various parts of the building, -two or three other figures were seen, some with their countenances -turned towards the light, some gazing forth from the windows. A number -of seats were placed in a semicircle a few yards in advance of the -spot where the altar had stood, and a small table with a lamp, some -writing materials, and an hour-glass, appeared in front of the -settles. On either hand, behind Count Frederick of Leiningen, was a -small arched doorway, leading probably into the rooms where the -priest's vestments used formerly to be kept, and above the altar was a -round window, the stained glass of which was still perfect. - -As if somewhat impatient, Count Frederick twice advanced to the table, -and looked at the hour-glass, and then, turning to one of those who -were with him, he observed, "It is nearly out. Think you he will not -come?" - -"I hear the sound of horses, my lord," said one of the persons who had -been standing near the window; "he is coming now. They seem a goodly -troop, by the noise they make." - -Count Frederick smiled; and in a few minutes, the Count of Ehrenstein, -followed by a considerable number of armed men, entered the chapel. - -His face was less gloomy than it had lately been; and whatever he -might feel, he greeted Count Frederick in friendly terms, but at the -same time shaded his eyes with his hand, as if the glare affected -them. - -"Why, what a blaze!" he exclaimed; "do you not think, Leiningen, that -we had better extinguish some of these torches? The Emperor, I find, -is at Spires; his men are all about; and this may call attention to us -and our proceedings." - -"Be it as you will," replied Count Frederick; "but I have taken good -care, my friend, to guard against all surprise. I have three hundred -men, scattered in parties round, within the call of a trumpet." - -The Count of Ehrenstein's face evidently fell, and he replied in a -tone of some surprise, looking to his companions as he spoke, -"Indeed!" - -The Count took no notice of his exclamation, but ordered all the -torches except two to be extinguished, and then, turning to the Count -of Ehrenstein, inquired, "Had we not better bid the trumpeter call -upon Ferdinand of Altenburg to appear? It is now midnight; you see the -sand is run out." - -"Let us first take our places," said the Count of Ehrenstein, -thoughtfully. "These four gentlemen, I presume, are those whom you -have selected?" - -"They are," replied Count Frederick; "you have Mosbach I see with you, -but where is my old friend Seckendorf?" - -"I left him to guard the castle," replied the Count; "but here are -three others, knights, and of good degree." - -"Well, then, let us take our seats," said Count Frederick, "and to the -judgment of these noble gentlemen refer the free decision of all that -may be brought before them. You and I, my friend, taking our places -with them to witness and execute their judgment, but having no voice -in their decision." - -Thus saying, Count Frederick moved towards one of the two seats placed -in the midst of the others, courteously waving the Count of Ehrenstein -to the one next to him on the right hand. It was the place of honour, -but the latter would fain have declined it; for, by the position in -which the several parties stood, it placed Count Frederick between -himself and his followers, so that no private communication could be -held by him with those whose judgment he might wish to influence. His -old companion, however, courteously insisted on retaining his seat to -the left, and the knights having taken their places, after some little -debate on this point, Count Frederick said aloud:-- - -"To you, noble gentlemen, as men impartial and of true honour, we -defer the cause which you will hear, calling upon you, however, most -solemnly to remember your knightly oath, and to cast from your mind -all prejudice, but judging solely according to your consciences in the -sight of God. Now let the trumpeter go out, and call before us -Ferdinand of Altenburg, according to his written word and promise. Let -him be called three times; and if he appear not, let judgment go -against him." - -The trumpeter went forth as he was ordered, and immediately after, -there was heard a loud, shrill blast, and a voice pronouncing some -words which could not be distinguished within. A short space of time -then elapsed, and again the trumpet sounded, and the proclamation was -repeated. - -No one appeared, however, and the Count of Ehrenstein muttered between -his teeth, "He comes not--I knew he would not." - -"Patience, patience, my good friend," said Count Frederick; "many -things come when we least expect them. Let the trumpet sound again, -and we shall see." - -Almost as he spoke the blast was repeated, and to the surprise of all, -it was instantly echoed by another trumpet. - -"He has got a herald with him, the mighty prince;" said Count -Frederick's jester, who was standing behind. - -Little attention, however, was bestowed upon his words, for all eyes -were eagerly bent forward upon the doorway of the chapel, and every -ear turned to hear whether any one was approaching. The moment after, -the sound of horses' feet beating the sandy road at a rapid rate, -could be distinguished. They came quickly on, without pause till they -reached the chapel, then halted, apparently opposite the crucifix, and -a brief interval followed. Then approaching steps were heard, and the -figures of several men were seen through the long aisle making -straight towards the door. The first that entered, with bonnet on his -bead, and sword and dagger by his side, was Ferdinand of Altenburg. -His look was calm and firm, his bearing was high and almost stern, and -he walked on up the aisle without pause or hesitation, gazing over the -faces of those before him with a steadfast and unwavering eye. Close -upon his steps came four men completely armed, all except the head, -which was covered only by the common velvet cap of the time; but the -persons assembled round the table remarked that each in his bonnet -bore three long feathers, usually the sign of knightly rank; and as -the eye dropped to the heel of each armed figure, the gilded spurs -buckled to the broad strap across the instep, showed that the honours -of chivalry had indeed been received. Most of them were men well -advanced in life; and on the faces of two were sundry scars, as if -from ancient wounds; but on those two countenances the eye of the -Count of Ehrenstein fixed with an eager and inquiring look, and his -cheek grew pale as they came nearer and more near. - -"Surely," he exclaimed at length, "I have seen you before." - -Whether the two knights did not perceive that his words were addressed -to them, or whether they were unwilling to reply, they spoke not; and -Ferdinand of Altenburg, taking another step forward, laid his hand -upon the table, saying, in a firm, clear tone, "My lords and noble -knights, I am here according to my word, to answer aught that may be -brought against me, and to pray your judgment in all causes between me -and this good lord here present, he and I having both pledged -ourselves to abide by your decision, in whatever the one may have -against the other." - -"Stay, stay, bold boy!" exclaimed the Count of Ehrenstein; "the cause -we have here to try, is solely my charge against you, for treason -against your sworn lord." - -"Not so, noble Sir," replied Ferdinand, calmly and respectfully; "such -was not the tenor of my letter; therein I said that I would bow -without appeal to the decree of this court in all matters between you -and me, provided you would pledge yourself to do the same. To that -pledge Count Frederick assented in your name, and to him appeal as -witness if I speak the truth." - -"You do assuredly, young gentleman," replied Count Frederick; "such -were the terms of the compact." - -"I have been deceived," muttered the Count of Ehrenstein, bitterly, -gnawing his lower lip. - -"Bird-lime! bird-lime!" said the jester, from behind. - -"Well," cried the Count, after an angry pause, "it matters not. Let it -go forward: you can have no cause of complaint against me; and first, -as in due order, I will call for judgment upon you. What you will deny -and what you will admit, I know not; but I am armed with full proof of -your base treachery, should your impudence fail you here, and you deny -your guilt." - -"My lord, I am here," replied Ferdinand of Altenburg, "to acknowledge -and to justify every act that I have done. I refuse you, however, for -my judge, as you are my accuser; and I call upon these noble gentlemen -to pronounce a just sentence upon me, being ready to answer every -question they may ask, truly and freely, as if I were before the -throne of Heaven." - -"What is the charge, my lord?" said one of Count Frederick's knights, -turning to the Count of Ehrenstein; "we must have it clearly stated, -if you please." - -"I have written it down here," said the Count of Ehrenstein: "it is -this:" and he proceeded to read as follows:--"that he, Ferdinand of -Altenburg, being my sworn retainer and customary man, eating my bread, -and drinking my wine, and I--having the power of high and low justice -in my own domains,--did, contrary to the laws and customs of the land, -seduce the affections of my only daughter, Adelaide of Ehrenstein; and -did with her, secretly and privately, and contrary to my knowledge and -consent, contract marriage on the night of the fourteenth of this -month, in the chapel of our Lady of Strangers, on the hill of -Ehrenstein; and, moreover, that he, being imprisoned for judgment in -my castle of Ehrenstein, did break forth thence, and fly from the -award of my court; and that he did persuade and induce my daughter -aforesaid to fly with him, or to follow after, to the great wrong and -detriment of his sworn lord. That is the charge. I can prove it fully; -and I claim judgment of death against him, according to the law." - -As he spoke, he laid the paper on the table, and the knight, on his -right, took it up and read it over again in silence. - -"You hear the charge, Ferdinand of Altenburg," said the gentleman when -he had done perusing it, "and you have expressed a determination to -confess freely all that you have done. It will save us much time and -trouble, if, as I read these charges over to you once again, you -separately state which of them you acknowledge to be true, and which -of them you deny. After you have done so, we will examine the proofs -of all that you declare to be false, and then, upon the whole, hear -your defence. Is there any one who can write here?" - -The knights around were silent; but Count Frederick's chaplain came -forward, saying, "I can, noble Sir." - -"Then let me ask you, Father, to take down this young gentleman's -replies," said the knight who had before spoken; and as soon as the -chaplain was seated, he continued, addressing Ferdinand of Altenburg, -"Do you acknowledge that you are the sworn retainer and customary man -of the noble Count of Ehrenstein?" - -"No, I am not," answered Ferdinand of Altenburg, in a firm and decided -tone. - -The Count of Ehrenstein looked round to Karl von Mosbach with a laugh, -saying, "We will soon prove that." - -But the knight who had spoken waved his hand impatiently, saying, "The -proofs hereafter.--Do you acknowledge, Ferdinand of Altenburg, that -you did seduce the affections of the Lady Adelaide of Ehrenstein, and -contract marriage with her in secret, on the night of the fourteenth -of this month, in the chapel of our Lady of Strangers, on the hill of -Ehrenstein?" - -"I did win her love," replied Ferdinand, boldly, "and I did contract -marriage with her at the place and on the night you have mentioned; -but neither contrary to law, nor without right, but fully justified in -all I did." - -"Bold, on my life!" said the Count, setting his teeth hard. "Would I -had you for an hour within the walls of Ehrenstein!" - -Ferdinand made no reply, and the knight, after looking over the priest -till he had finished writing the answer, turned again to the paper -containing the charges, and went on to inquire:-- - -"Did you, Ferdinand of Altenburg, being imprisoned, and awaiting -judgment of the court of the Count of Ehrenstein, break forth and fly -to escape the award of the said court?" - -"No," answered Ferdinand, again; "I left the castle of Ehrenstein as I -would leave my own house, with full right and power to do so. I was -not imprisoned to await the judgment of any lawful court, but was held -by very empty bonds, that I might be done to death privately, as yon -knight, Karl von Mosbach, knows right well." - -The old soldier looked down with an embarrassed air, and played -somewhat nervously with the hilt of his dagger; but Ferdinand, after -having eyed him for a moment, went on, "I may as well answer the last -charge at once, to save further trouble. I did not induce the Lady -Adelaide to fly with me, though, as her husband and her rightful lord, -I was fully entitled to take her whither I pleased; but I held no -communication with her, and indeed I could not." - -"What does he mean," cried Karl von Mosbach, anxious to escape from -the immediate question of what was the Count's object in placing the -young gentleman in confinement--"what does he mean by his not being a -sworn retainer and customary man of my good lord the Count? Why, a -dozen of us heard him take the oath." - -"Let us proceed in order," said the other knight; and taking up the -paper which the priest had written, he continued.--"Thus, then, stands -the case: Ferdinand of Altenburg acknowledges that he did, as he is -charged, contract marriage secretly with the Lady Adelaide of -Ehrenstein; but he denies that he was then the sworn retainer and -customary man of the Lord of Ehrenstein. Perhaps we had better keep -this part of the charge separate from the rest, as his guilt or -innocence, both in regard to the act which he acknowledges, and to all -the other charges, must depend upon whether he was or was not, at the -time of this marriage, what is here stated, namely, the sworn retainer -and customary man of him whose daughter he secretly married. What is -your proof, my Lord of Ehrenstein, that he is that which you have -stated?" - -"It shall be quite sufficient," answered the Count; "there are three -or four men here present who have heard the oath taken by him, -Ferdinand of Altenburg, when admitted to serve in arms. Here, Albert, -come forward. Were you, or were you not present when that youth took -the usual oath?" - -A stout soldier stepped forward with some degree of reluctance -apparent in his countenance and manner; but the question being -repeated, he replied, "I was: we all take it." - -"Repeat the precise words of the oath," said the knight. - -The man rubbed his head, as if to awaken memory, and then answered, -"As far as I can recollect, it was to serve my lord, in arms, well and -truly, and to defend him in life and goods at the peril of his head." - -Count Frederick's knights looked at each other, and the one who had -been the only spokesman said, "This renders him an armed retainer in -military service, but not a customary man. Where is the proof of -that?" - -"It is a fact of common notoriety," answered the Count of Ehrenstein, -"that he for years has taken my bread and wine, and that, together -with this oath, makes him my customary man." - -"Nay," replied the knight; "he might be your guest, my noble lord. -There is more required to show him your customary man than that. Have -you given him wages or hire, fee or reward?" - -"Wages or hire he has not had," answered the Count of Ehrenstein; "for -he had ever money of his own; but he has had arms and horses of me." - -"Fine fee or reward that," cried the jester from behind; "the means of -getting his skull cracked, or breaking his neck." - -"This is something in the shape of recompense, assuredly," said Count -Frederick's knight, musing. - -"You seem learned in the law, Sir," said the Count of Ehrenstein, with -a sneer. - -"I am, my good lord," answered the knight, with cold calmness. "I have -studied the laws and customs of knighthood and nobility since first I -buckled on my spurs, now five-and-twenty years ago; and I have often -found the knowledge serviceable to myself and others, as here also it -is likely to prove. But let us proceed: you have given this young -gentleman arms and horses, you say, as recompense and wages for the -services he has sworn to perform. It is a somewhat doubtful point -whether this will render him your man; but I think it will, if--" - -"Ha!" cried the Count, "what is the _if_? The case is as clear as -light. He is my man; and I claim him as such. Where is there an _if_?" - -"I was about to show you," said the knight; "for there are several -conditions which would bar your claim. He must have received them and -acknowledged them as payment, not as a free gift, not as a loan to -serve you with in war. He must be of inferior degree." - -"I thank you, noble Sir," said Ferdinand of Altenburg, interposing, -"for your strictness in seeing justice done me; but I will avail -myself of no doubtful points of law to shield what I have done. The -Lady Adelaide's love I have won, the Lady Adelaide's hand I have -gained. I have done it boldly, and boldly will I justify it; denying -all power in her father to judge me as his man, or to do aught but -treat me as noble to noble. He has no law that can touch me; he has no -authority that can bind me. I here proclaim, and by this I will abide, -that by no possibility could I ever become his man, though he might -become mine. Nay more, I say that his bread I have never eaten; that -his wine I have never drunk; that his horses or arms have I never -received; that to the Count of Ehrenstein have I taken no oath." - -"The youth is mad," exclaimed the Count; and all present looked from -one to the other with surprise, as boldly and even vehemently -Ferdinand of Altenburg poured forth such startling assertions. - -"Ay, he is mad enough," said old Karl von Mosbach; "that is clear." - -"Pray, good youth," said the Count, with a look of contemptuous pity, -"by what title have you fed in my castle, ridden with my band, or used -my arms, and in what position do you stand as to the oath between us?" - -"As your sovereign lord," replied Ferdinand of Altenburg, in a clear -distinct voice. "As the head of your house, the chief of your name; -and you as my poor kinsman without wealth, or land, or station. The -bread I ate, the wine I drank, was mine, from my own fields and -vineyards; the horses, arms, are all my own. The castle in which you -held me was mine, and Ferdinand of Ehrenstein is not come here so much -to answer your vain charge, as to claim his own. Whisper not to -Mosbach, my good uncle, with so pale a cheek. The troops with which -you so carefully surrounded me here this night, thinking--if those -noble knights acquitted me--to secure your prey in violation of your -word, are prisoners and disarmed; and Mosbach can do nothing of all -that you would wish him. Ay, noble Count Frederick, you may well gaze -at him with surprise; for though you doubted some foul play, as I -judged by the precautions you had taken, you know not the extent of -the treachery, and that every vassal from the lands of Ehrenstein, far -outnumbering your parties, have been drawn round us, like a net to -catch the deer. But his craft has fallen upon his own head; and the -castle, which he thought secure when he left it, is now beyond his -power. He stripped it of all that could defend it, and now it is safe -enough; but in other hands." - -At this last intimation the Count of Ehrenstein startled up and laid -his hand upon his sword, with his eyes flashing fire, and exclaiming, -"Liar and villain! do you come here with such an idle tale, trumped up -by your crafty uncle, to thrust his brother's bastard into the -patrimony of a noble house. I can prove that you are the child of -Charles of Altenburg. Out upon it! Listen not to him, noble knights; -but proceed to judgment on this foul calumniator. Count Frederick, my -noble friend, you will not doubt me, I am sure. I brought with me but -what force was needful to guard me in these troublous times, and if -that youth has dared with any bands--perchance the remnants of -Eppenfeld's force--to--" - -"I will confound you in a moment!" cried Ferdinand of Altenburg, in a -loud voice. "Ho! without there! Bring in the Baron of Eppenfeld. Now, -Sir, if, in your heart, there be secrets connected with this man that -you would have concealed; if you have plotted, colleagued, deceived -with him; if, for dark and secret purposes, you obtained him as your -prisoner from your noble friend there, and then, having driven your -bargain with him, set him free to commit fresh crimes--tremble, I say; -for every long-hidden act is about to be made manifest. Deep, deep, -did you think them covered by the blackest shade of night; but, thanks -to the care and foresight of the eyes that were upon you, they have -all been gathered and recorded so as to leave you no escape. Every -foul crime of the last twenty years shall now be blazoned to the eyes -of the world; and your charge against your brother's son, shall be the -spell that dissolves even the silence of the tomb." - -"Stay, stay," exclaimed Count Frederick of Leiningen, as the Count of -Ehrenstein sank back, pale and quivering, against the column behind -him. "These are bold assertions, young gentleman; and should be proved -calmly and deliberately; perhaps were better proved more privately and -temperately." - -"What! shall I be temperate when my father's blood cries out for -vengeance," exclaimed Ferdinand; "shall I be temperate when my -mother's voice rises from the depth of the waters, and demands -punishment on her murderer? Proved! my Lord Count; I call upon you as -knight, and noble, true, and loyal--and such I hold you to be, if ever -yet man was so--to say here, in presence of all, if, in the castle of -Eppenfeld, you did not find, if even now you do not hold in your -hands, the proofs of this man's treachery towards his brother's wife -and child?" - -"Thus adjured, I must not deny it," answered Count Frederick, in a -firm but sad tone. "I did find proofs indubitable, that the late Count -of Ehrenstein, left behind him a widow, an Italian lady of high rank, -and one boy--who might now be of the age of this young man; and, -moreover, that practices most terrible had been used against their -lives." - -"Still we shall need evidence to show that this young gentleman is the -child so left," said the knight who had chiefly conducted the -proceedings of the court, on the charges against Ferdinand of -Altenburg. "If he can bring forth proof of that fact, of course the -accusation against him falls to the ground." - -"And I can bring such proof," replied Ferdinand. "Here are my -witnesses beside me." - -As he spoke, two of the armed men who had accompanied him, advanced, -and the elder laid a paper on the table saying, "I tender a copy of -proofs of marriage between Ferdinand Charles, Count of Ehrenstein, and -the Lady Eleanore Sforza, laid before the Imperial chamber, and -registered after examination; and also of the birth of one son, -baptized by the name of Ferdinand, issuing from the same marriage." - -"And I tender proofs," said the other knight, "of the arrival of the -same lady and her child at Nuremberg, in the month of August, 14--." - -"We are witnesses to the marriage, to the baptism of the child, and to -the passing of the same lady and her son, as far as Augsburg, in the -month of September, in the year preceding," said one of the two elder -knights, who had not yet spoken; "and that at that time she went under -the assumed name of Meissen." - -"I will now call farther witnesses," said Ferdinand, in a lower tone -than he had yet used, and gazing with feelings difficult to define -upon the bowed figure of the Count, as he sat, apparently almost -crushed to the earth with the torrent of discovery and disgrace which -had poured upon him, "and God is my witness that I do all this with -deep regret. But though the task is a bitter one, yet it must be -accomplished. First, I will call the Baron of Eppenfeld to show--" - -"Stay," cried the Count, rousing himself by a great effort; "young -man, you play your part boldly, so boldly that I--even I am inclined -to believe, you credit the tale you tell. I know you well, Ferdinand -of Altenburg, and am aware that you are not by nature a good -dissembler. Either you must have faith in what you say, or you must -have learned the great trade of the world quickly." - -"Grace after meat is a good rule," cried the jester, "but I never yet -did hear of so much grace after a bad supper." - -"Nevertheless," continued the Count of Ehrenstein, without heeding the -interruption, "this cause cannot be judged by this court. Long and -close examination, thorough scrutiny of every proof, and the presence -of men well versed in the law, is ever required to convey rich lands -and lordships from a possessor of well nigh twenty years to a new -upstart claimant, first heard of but yesterday." - -"It required fewer formalities, it seemed," said the jester, "to -convey his head from his shoulders, though, after all, to my thinking, -a man's head is his best possession, for without it he will want the -chief of his title-deeds." - -"Pshaw!" cried the Count, "this is no jesting matter. I boldly -pronounce this claim to be false and fabricated, and I appeal to the -court of the Emperor." - -He spoke in a loud and resolute tone; and instantly a voice from the -farther part of the chapel answered, "So be it!" - -The view down the nave had been obstructed by the forms of Ferdinand -and his four companions; and since he had entered, a number of -persons, retainers of the two Counts and others, had gathered round to -hear the proceedings; but at the sound of that voice every one turned -his head, and then drew somewhat back. A lane was formed--the light of -the two torches farther down streamed through--and a tall figure was -seen advancing with slow and stately steps towards the place where the -judges sat. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII. - - -Count Frederick of Leiningen immediately rose from his seat, gazing -forward, as the figure we have described advanced up the nave of the -chapel; and, at the same time, a number of voices exclaimed, "The -Emperor! the Emperor!" Though several steps before any of his -attendants, however, the Emperor was not alone. The clanging step of -armed men was heard behind him; knights, officers, and soldiers were -seen pouring in at the doors of the chapel; a great part of the lower -end of the nave, and both the aisles behind the columns were crowded -with forms, faintly seen in the dim glare of the two torches; and -nought was left vacant but a space of about twenty feet in front of -the spot where the judges sat. The face of the Count of Ehrenstein -turned deadly pale; and his look was certainly not one of satisfaction -at the speedy opportunity afforded of trying the appeal he had just -made. A smile of joy beamed upon the lip of Ferdinand of Altenburg, as -he drew back with those who had accompanied him, to allow the monarch -to pass; but old Karl von Mosbach, though every one else rose, still -kept his seat, with his teeth chattering in his head, as he gazed -round, and saw all means of escape cut off by the armed men who -crowded the chapel. - -With a firm, proud step, and eyes bent sternly forward, his bonnet and -plume upon his head, and his mantle thrown back from his shoulders, -the Emperor advanced up the aisle, having his sheathed sword unbuckled -in his left hand. - -"Well met, knights and nobles," he said, coming near the table; "what -cause judge you here, with our Imperial Court so near as Spires?" - -"We knew not, my lord, when this meeting was appointed, that you were -so soon expected," said Count Frederick of Leiningen, "or we might -have referred the trial of the case to you; but this young gentleman -voluntarily submitted himself to the judgment of those here assembled; -and it was agreed, on both parts, that there should be no -appeal--though this good Lord of Ehrenstein has thought fit to make -one." - -"There must ever be an appeal to the Imperial Court," said the -monarch, moving round to take the seat which Count Frederick had -placed for him, in the centre of the table. "No agreement can -frustrate the laws of this empire. Therefore the Count's appeal is -good; and we will hear it this night, having already some cognizance -of the questions in debate." - -Thus saying, he seated himself, laying his sheathed sword upon the -table, and waving his hand to some gentlemen who had followed him more -closely than the rest of his train. Six of these immediately advanced, -and arranged themselves round the table, as if about to form a new -court. The knights and gentlemen who had accompanied Count Frederick -of Leiningen and the Count of Ehrenstein, looked at each other and -their lords with a glance of hesitation, not knowing whether to -withdraw or not; and while Count Frederick turned his eyes to the -Emperor, the Count of Ehrenstein bent his upon the ground, by no means -well satisfied, notwithstanding the favour the Emperor had shown his -appeal, that his cause should be tried by a tribunal completely -independent of his influence. - -After a moment's wavering doubt, one or two of those who had -previously occupied seats round the table, took a step back, as if to -withdraw, and give up their places to the Imperial Councillors; but -the Emperor stopped them, saying, "Stay, gentlemen, stay; we will have -your assistance likewise, as you have already heard this cause in -part; and we will abridge some forms, to come at the truth. Who is -this young gentleman that stands before us, with two of the officers -of our own court, and some other knights, whom we do not know?" - -Before any one could answer in a more formal manner, the Count of -Ehrenstein exclaimed, vehemently, "This, my lord the Emperor, is the -bastard son of Charles, Count of Altenburg, brought up by cunning -Brother George, the monk, and tutored by him to steal away my -daughter, and to put in a false claim to my inheritance." - -"How is this, young man?" said the Emperor, looking gravely at -Ferdinand of Altenburg; "is this charge true? I pray you, remember -that this shall be sifted to the very bottom, and the severest -punishment of the law shall fall upon him who speaks falsely. Answer -me,--is this true?" - -"It is false, my lord," replied Ferdinand, in a calm, firm tone; "I -claim here, before your court, to be received and acknowledged as -Count of Ehrenstein, and to receive the lands and lordships thereof, -doing homage, and rendering service for them as fiefs of the empire; -and I am ready, even now, to prove my title; so that there shall be no -doubt left." - -"Ah! you are well-tutored, I can believe," exclaimed the Count; but -Ferdinand went on, not heeding his interruption, saying, "I have -already tendered proofs from the Imperial Chancery, of the marriage of -my late father, the Count of Ehrenstein, and also of my own birth." - -"Of the birth of a son," exclaimed the Count of Ehrenstein; "a son, -who perished afterwards, as well as his mother." - -"Well, then," cried the Emperor, turning to him quickly, "you admit -the marriage of your brother, and the birth of a son issuing from that -marriage?" - -The Count of Ehrenstein was silent, gnawing his under lip, and fixing -his eyes upon the table; but Count Frederick of Leiningen replied to -the Emperor's question, "He cannot deny it, mighty lord; proofs that -admit of no doubt are now in hands of these two noble knights; -officers, as I understand, of your Imperial Court." - -"This simplifies the question greatly," said the Emperor; "let me look -at the papers." - -The officers who had before produced them immediately presented them -to their Imperial Lord, who examined them closely, looked at the seals -and the numerous signatures of authentication, and then returned them, -saying, "They are in due form, and perfect in every respect. There can -be no doubt. This part of the case is proved; it remains for you, -young gentleman, to establish on unquestionable evidence that you are -the son thus born, otherwise these facts go for nothing." - -"It shall be done, my lord, clearly and step by step; but I would fain -know whether your Majesty judges best, that I should commence from the -period of this son's birth, and trace his life downward, till you find -him here before you, or to go back from the present with my past -history, till it connects itself with that of the son of whose birth -you have proof." - -"The latter were the better course," said the Emperor; "for, as things -that have lately happened are more likely to be within mean's memories -than things remote, we shall more speedily and easily arrive at a -flaw, if there be one." - -"The last twelve years of my life, my lord," replied Ferdinand, "are -known to many here present. During that period, or nearly that period, -I have dwelt in the castle of Ehrenstein, first as a page, then as a -squire to my uncle, calling himself Count of Ehrenstein--is this -admitted, or does it require proof?" - -"Pshaw!" exclaimed the Count of Ehrenstein; "we all know the kindness -that for twelve years you have received at my hands, and how you have -repaid it. It is admitted, ay, and proved, that for that time you have -been a retainer in the castle of Ehrenstein; but who placed you -there?" - -"Father George of Altenburg," replied the young gentleman, "by whom, -during the two years preceding, I was educated at the abbey of--" - -"To be sure," exclaimed the Count again, "who should educate his -brother's bastard but the monk?" - -"To refute this," replied Ferdinand of Altenburg, "I will call the -monk himself, who can prove from whose hands he received me." - -"Let the monk be called," exclaimed the Emperor; "summon Father George -of Altenburg by the sound of the trumpet. We must have his evidence, -or adjourn our sitting." - -These words gave a fresh hope to the Count of Ehrenstein; for to have -delayed the investigation, even for a short time, would have delivered -him from the immediate presence of the Imperial guards, whose -proximity did not at all please him, and would have enabled him to -employ any of those many means of resisting right, which were often -resorted to successfully in those days. But the instant after, a -trumpet sounded at the door of the chapel, and the name of Father -George was pronounced. After a moment's pause, the crowd that filled -the lower part of the building, began to move and fall back on either -hand, and the tall form and fine countenance of the monk was seen -advancing up the aisle. - -"This is all concerted," muttered the Count of Ehrenstein to himself; -"the cause is judged before it is heard." - -The Emperor, however, without noticing his half audible words, raised -his voice and addressed Father George of Altenburg, even before he had -reached the table, saying, "Father, we have ever heard that you are a -good and holy man, and we now call upon you to speak truth, and to -tell us who is that young man now standing before us, as you will -answer to God." - -"This," said Father George, laying his left hand upon Ferdinand's -shoulder, "is Ferdinand of Ehrenstein, the son of my beloved friend, -the late Count." - -"Can you prove this fact?" inquired the monarch; "for this is a matter -of serious import, and we must not decide hastily, even upon the -showing of a holy man like you. From whom did you receive this boy, -that you so well know he is Ferdinand of Ehrenstein?" - -"From his own mother, my lord the Emperor," replied Father George; -"that is to say, not from her own hands; for unhappily I was not -present when she was seized with the fever at Nuremburg; but at the -point of death, when she had received extreme unction, and had taken -leave of all worldly things, she sent him to me by one who had been -faithful and true to her, and who brought him safely to the abbey, and -delivered him into my hands, in the time of Abbot Waldimer." - -"But what proof had you that this was the son of the Countess of -Ehrenstein; how did you know that it was not the son of some one -else?" - -"I had often seen the boy before;" replied Father George: "from his -infancy up to that hour, I had never been two months without holding -him on my knee. He changed, it is true, from the soft infant in the -nurse's arms, to the light, wild, vigorous boy; but in that slow and -gradual change something still remained which showed the same being -was there before my eyes: one day bore over to the next the lineaments -of my dead friend's child; and though in each two months I could see a -difference in the boy, yet there were the same eyes looked upon me, -the same lips smiled when I spoke to him. It was like a sapling that I -watched and nourished, increasing in height, putting forth leaves and -flowers, but still the same, whether as the tall tree or the young -shoot." - -"You say a faithful servant brought him to you," said the Emperor, -after pausing a moment, when Father George had done speaking; "is that -person still living?" - -"He is, my lord, and is here," answered the monk. - -"Call him," rejoined the Emperor; and Father George raising his voice, -pronounced the name of Franz Creussen, when immediately from one of -the side aisles, pushed forward between the columns the gigantic form -of the blacksmith: no longer, indeed, in the garb of his trade, but -armed from the neck to the heel in black armour. His head alone was -bare, with the short, curly hair sweeping round his bold face. - -"Ah! our good friend the blacksmith, who shod my horse the other day -in the woods," exclaimed the Emperor; "but how is it, friend? You seem -to have changed your trade." - -"But taken up my old one, Kaiser," answered the deep thundering voice -of Franz Creussen. "I was bred to arms, and hammered on enemies' heads -before I touched an anvil." - -"Then how came you to change one profession for the other?" asked the -Emperor. - -"Oh, every man has many reasons for one thing," said Franz Creussen; -"mine were partly a fondness for iron, partly to gain my bread at a -time when no wars were going on, partly to watch and protect this boy, -my dead lord's child." - -"Then you, too, know him to be the son of the late Count of -Ehrenstein?" said the Emperor. - -"He was the late Count's lady's son," answered Franz Creussen, -bluffly; "and the Count never doubted he was his own." - -"And did you bring him to Father George," inquired the Emperor, "at -his mother's death?" - -"The case is this, my lord," replied the blacksmith: "I never quitted -the dear good lady for any length of time, from the hour when we set -out from Venice, till the hour when she told me to carry the lad to -Father George of Altenburg, and made me swear that I would watch and -guard him at the peril of my life. I was not always with her, I was -not always in the house; for when we arrived at Augsburg, we had -notice that yon lord, the Count's brother, had seized upon the lands, -had strangled poor Rudolph of Oggersheim, who bore him the tidings of -his brother's fate, and had set men to waylay us and destroy us, so -that he might enjoy the inheritance in peace. It was needful, -therefore, to keep quiet, and to watch shrewdly, too; and I, with the -rest of the men, kept guard about the place, riding here, and riding -there, for news, till we were all obliged to fly together, having -tidings from Father George here, that the Baron of Eppenfeld had set -out with all his band, to carry off the lady and her child, and drown -them in the Danube, by orders of yon lord." - -"It is false!" cried the Count of Ehrenstein; "it is a bitter -falsehood!" - -"False!" thundered Franz Creussen; "if I had you on this side of the -table, I would cleave you to the jaws;" and he ran his hand angrily -over his heated brow; but, the next minute he added with a laugh: "I -will do better, I will convict you. I have a witness here you wot not -of.--Ho! my men, bring in the prisoner, bring in the Baron of -Eppenfeld.--The truth shall appear at length, Count William. Ha! you -tremble and turn pale, to find that he whom you let out of Ehrenstein -has fallen into the hands of Franz Creussen." - -The Count of Ehrenstein remained silent; and well he might, for there, -in the presence of the Emperor, guarded by two stout soldiers, stood -the Baron of Eppenfeld, with the same look of careless, almost gay, -indifference which we have seen him bear on so many and so varied -occasions, without a touch of fear, of embarrassment or remorse. - -"Ah! plunderer and knave, have you been caught at length?" exclaimed -the Emperor, with his eyes flashing, as he gazed upon the Baron. "By -the Lord that lives! I will put down such as you within this empire, -so that the memory of your cruel deeds and of your terrible punishment -shall become a tale to frighten children with." - -"Faith! my good Lord," replied the Baron; "if you do that, you will -have to sweep your house clean; for I am not one whit worse than at -least a half of your good nobles, only I have done what I thought fit -to do somewhat more openly. To take men's purses sword in hand, to my -mind, is not half so bad as to rot their reputation with a smooth -tongue; to make men's merchandise pay toll on the highways of the -world is a better deed than to ruin them by false accusations; to -fight against strong men with harness on their backs, better than to -skin poor boors alive who have no means of defending themselves." - -"There is some truth in what you say," replied the Emperor; "yet you -shall find that other men's crimes shall not excuse your own. Now, -what know you of this Lord of Ehrenstein, here?" - -"Oh, I know a good deal," answered the Baron, with a careless laugh; -"but look you, Lord Emperor, you have used sharp words to my ear, and -if I take your meaning rightly, you intend to use a sharp axe on my -neck. Now, I say, out upon those fools who babble when they die! The -wolf, the wolf is the brave beast who will not give one howl when the -dogs worry him. If there be any profit in speaking, I will speak; but -if I am to go on the long march, I will troop off in silence. If there -be any choice which is to go, the Lord of Ehrenstein or I, why, I -would decline the honour, and beg him to lead the way; but if I am to -go at all events, I do not need his company. I can travel alone quite -well to the low bed in the dark house." - -"Your very words are a confession, robber," replied the Emperor; "and -you shall die whether you speak or not. I will not barter justice due -on one man's head, even for evidence against another, perhaps not less -guilty." - -"I can supply the testimony he refuses to give, mighty lord," said -Count Frederick of Leiningen, in a grave tone. "It is with deep regret -that I place in your Majesty's hands these papers, taken by me when we -stormed the castle of Eppenfeld. I have looked over them, and have -held them until now, in the hope that one who was a companion of my -boyhood would show some signs of repentance for deeds so black as -those disclosed this night; but now I am bound to give them up, that -justice may be done. You will there see the price given, or offered, -for the death of Ferdinand of Ehrenstein and his mother, and will find -full proof of the truth of all that good Franz Creussen has advanced." - -The Count of Ehrenstein folded his arms upon his chest, and raised his -head haughtily. "All are against me here," he said, in a stern and -bitter tone. "My lord the Emperor, I did not come here prepared for -these charges. False and groundless I pronounce them to be; and false -and groundless I will prove them; but I still require time to call my -own evidence, and to send for some who are now at a distance, but who -can show that this accusation has been devised to ruin me; that those -papers are fabricated; and that this Baron of Eppenfeld has long -threatened me with disclosing the pretended treachery on my part -against my brother's widow, sometimes affirming, sometimes -denying--ay, even in writing--that his charge was true. Here is one -present,--this very reverend priest, the chaplain of Count -Ferdinand,--who has seen his denial of all these charges; nay, more, -who even saw him sign it, and read it over to him." - -"Ha! ha! ha! my friend, the knave!" cried the Baron of Eppenfeld. "Say -you so?--say you so? What, these are all lies of my invention, are -they? 'Tis good--'tis mighty good. But now, remember, I spare you no -more. I was quite ready to do you a good turn, and die--if needs must -be--without speaking; but now you turn so ungratefully upon me, all -the truth shall out." - -"You see, my mighty lord," said the Count, turning to the Emperor, -"that he is moved by every breath of passion, and not by the simple -voice of truth. Let the priest speak. Did he, or did he not, my -reverend friend, sign a paper, denying all these charges to be true, -after having heard every word written therein read clearly over to -him?" - -"Even so," answered the priest, in a deliberate tone; "he heard the -paper read, and made some marks meant for his name, though the -orthography was aught but good; and at the same time he told me, by -way of protest, that he signed to save his life, which you had -threatened to take, by secret means, in prison to gain a chance of -liberty, which you had promised, and to obtain a certain sum of money, -which was to be added, to send him on his way." - -There was a deep silence for a minute, while all eyes were fixed upon -the Count of Ehrenstein, whose eyes seemed to grow dim and glassy, and -whose cheek was deadly pale. It was he himself who spoke first, -however, saying, in a faltering tone, "I claim time, my lord; I claim -time to meet an accusation long prepared and carefully devised, and to -bring forward proofs that this youth is not what he pretends to be." - -"Time you shall have, Sir," replied the Emperor, sternly, "to meet the -dark charges brought against you. It is but right you should; and we -will see justice done you on that score; though, if it be proved that -this young gentleman is Count of Ehrenstein, to his court, as your -sovereign lord, for all lands you hold, are you amenable for all -crimes done against him. You shall have time, as I have said; but it -shall be in sure custody. Ho! Count Rudolph, advance, and receive the -body of William, calling himself Count of Ehrenstein, to produce -before our Imperial Court, at Spires, when need shall be, on peril of -all that you can forfeit to the empire." - -Count Rudolph of Schönborn, came forward with two men-at-arms, and -laid his hand upon the Count of Ehrenstein's shoulder, saying, "Your -sword, my good lord." - -The Count gave it up, without vain resistance; and the Emperor -leaned his head upon his hand, with his eyes fixed upon the papers, -as if lost in thought of their contents. At length, after a silent -pause of more than a minute, Ferdinand--whom we have called of -Altenburg--advanced a step, and said, in a low and deferential voice, -"I pray you, mighty Sir, to judge at once the cause between me and my -uncle here present, concerning the lands of Ehrenstein. He came -hither, pledging himself to abide, in all things betwixt him and me, -by the decision of the noble gentlemen whom you found here assembled. -Upon an after-thought, he appealed to your Imperial Majesty; and -though he was barred by previous renunciation, I am as ready to submit -to your high judgment as he can be; but I would fain have it speedy, -as my men even now hold the castle of Ehrenstein, which he left nearly -ungarrisoned, in order to seize me here, if the cause should go -against him. Now I am not disposed to hold, even for an hour, that -which is not mine; and if my claim be not made good this night, I am -ready to withdraw my people from his house." - -"You speak well, young gentleman," said the Emperor; "and it is but -fit that, ere the deep and terrible accusation which has been urged -before us be tried upon its merits, we should know whether you be his -vassal or he yours. As far as we have hitherto gone, the weight of -proof seems in your favour; and, casting aside all consideration of -the crimes with which he is charged, we will freely examine your title -as you can further prove it. Remove that Baron of Eppenfeld, till we -can deal with him further." - -"Stay, stay," cried the Baron, shaking off the hands of two stout -soldiers, who were about to take him somewhat unceremoniously from the -Emperor's presence; "I can tell you something that will soon settle -all your doubts, if you will promise me good meat and drink.--I mean -warm wine of Ingelheim, or better still, of Eberbach, till I die." - -"That you shall have," said the Emperor, with a smile crossing his -face against his will, "if you do clear up all doubts. What is it you -have to say?" - -"This," replied the Baron: "When I was setting out for Augsburg, to do -the bidding of my noble friend the Count here, he informed me, in -order to make right sure that I fell into no mistake regarding his -nephew, that the poor man he put to death had told him there was a -cross marked in deep blue upon the boy's left side, above the -heart--stamped there by magic, for aught I know, but so that no water -would bring it out--in memory of his father's journey to the Holy -Land. They are the Count's own words. I am not sure that you may not -find them there in the letter; for I read little, and write less; so -that--as time flies, and memories fly with it--I know not whether the -hint was written or spoken; but be you sure that if the mark be on his -breast, he is the heir. If not, he may be any man else's son, but not -the late good Count of Ehrenstein's--a worthy man he was as ever drew -a sword." - -"Ha!" said the Emperor, fixing his eyes upon him; "I thought he had -been your enemy, and curbed, with a strong hand, your lawless doings." - -"Ay, my lord Emperor," answered the Baron; "but yet, though the lion -rends us and we fly him, we love him better than the wolf, and own him -for a gallant beast. The last Count was fierce enough with us who live -after the old fashion. He slew William of Feldhofen, and burnt the -castle of John of Bernau; but yet he did it all manly, with notice -given and banner on the wind; man to man, and lance to lance. He was a -true friend or a true enemy, and not like that man, who will use and -betray. But look to the boy's breast. I will swear that the words were -spoken--" - -"They are written here," rejoined the Emperor; "but he calls the child -in this letter his brother's bastard, and speaks of the mother as a -concubine." - -"That is disproved by these papers, and two competent witnesses, -mighty lord," said the knight who had taken so active a part in -examining the Count's charges against Ferdinand: "the only question -remaining for decision is, whether this youth, who was placed by the -good monk Father George under the care of that noble lord, is the boy -who came with the Countess of Ehrenstein from Venice." - -"The monk declares it, and this good man, Franz Creussen, also," -answered the Emperor; "but the latter is not of noble blood." - -Franz Creussen laughed aloud. "Ah, ha!" he said, "as if an honest man -were not an honest man, because he does not wear beasts and birds -embroidered on his shirt. You have there a proof how a proud noble can -lie and cheat;" and he pointed to the Count of Ehrenstein, adding, -"but look at the boy's breast. His uncle writes to have the boy who -was brought to Augsburg killed, and says he is marked with a cross. We -say this is the boy; and if the cross be there, 'tis proof, taken with -our oaths. Then you have the testimony of two knights, and sundry -papers, that the boy so brought was born in lawful wedlock. What want -you more? But if you want it, you shall have it." - -"What he says is true," replied the monarch; "the mark here described, -if found upon him, will be strong corroborative evidence." - -"It is here, my lord," said Ferdinand, opening the bosom of his -doublet; "I have borne it from a child;" and there, upon his left -breast, appeared in faint blue lines, but perfectly distinct, the -figure of a cross. - -"Lucky you bathed not in the good Count's presence," said a voice -behind Count Frederick of Leiningen; "or he would have had out the -heart that pants beneath the cross." - -"Well, noble lords," exclaimed the Emperor, not noticing this -interruption, "you have heard the evidence in this strange case; and -to you I will leave the judgment, reserving to myself to see it -carried out, with all regard to speedy justice." - -There was a short pause, and then the knight, who was fond of all the -niceties of feudal law, observed, "This good man, Franz Creussen, has -said there can be more evidence brought. It were well that we heard -all that can be testified, so that no doubt may remain on the mind of -any one." - -"Stay," said the Emperor: "ere you go farther, in order to give this -lord the chance of atoning for the wrong he has done, and meriting -grace from him whom he has wronged, let him be asked the question, -Does he yield to testimony which to us seems most conclusive?--does he -acknowledge that this is his brother's lawful son? Will he at once -give up lands and lordships he unjustly holds, or will he resist, and -have the whole knavery unravelled to the last thread?" - -Few there present had looked at the face of the Count of Ehrenstein -for some minutes, as he stood somewhat behind, with Count Rudolph's -men-at-arms on either side; but had they turned their eyes that way -they would have beheld the working of strong passions on a countenance -long trained to withstand emotions, and still resisting in a degree -their influence. - -At first, and especially when the evidence of the Baron of Eppenfeld -was given regarding the cross, he had more than once seemed about to -interrupt the proceedings with some vehement burst of passion; but -gradually his countenance fell, his firmness seemed to forsake him. -His cheek, indeed, could not well grow paler than it had been for some -time; but his lip quivered, his eye sought the ground, his hands -grasping his sword-belt moved convulsively, and even his cheeks looked -wan and hollow. The last words of the Emperor he seemed hardly to -hear; but when Count Rudolph repeated them to him, he started and -replied, after a gasp for breath, "I appeal to a freer court--to a -court--" - -"A freer court!" exclaimed the Emperor in an angry tone, while Count -Frederick of Leiningen whispered something to him; but ere the -sentence was finished a loud voice seemed to the Count of Ehrenstein -to cry, "A freer court you shall have. I summon you to the court of -the dead! William of Ehrenstein, appear before the seat of your true -judge!" - -At the same moment it appeared to the eyes of the culprit, that the -light of the two torches suddenly went out; the chapel was left almost -in darkness, illuminated only by the small lamp that stood upon the -table. The Emperor and all the knights rose and drew back, as if in -fear; and by the faint rays that streamed down the aisle he beheld a -change on the figures that crowded round. Armed men and officers, and -forms robed in silks and furs disappeared; and sweeping up in a -shadowy circle, there came a line of tall dark figures, each covered -with a long grey garment not unlike a shroud. Each held in the -gauntleted hand, not by the hilt, but by the cold blade, a naked -sword; and behind the semicircle, which stretched from one side of the -chapel to the other, rose a number of old dusty banners and pennons, -tattered and soiled, and stained apparently with blood. A chair--moved -forward by hands that were not seen--was placed in the midst, and one -of the tall grey figures, with the hood of his robe falling far over -the face, and the folds enveloping the chin and mouth, seated itself -therein, and waved the hand as if for silence. Instantly a trumpet was -heard echoing round and round the old walls, and a solemn voice -proclaimed, "William of Ehrenstein, appear before your liege lord and -brother, dead in the year of grace 14--, and answer to the charge of -treason and felony, for that you did incite his vassals to do him to -death; for that you did slay in prison his faithful henchman, Rudolph -of Oggersheim; for that you did attempt to murder his widow and his -son, your lord. Stand forth, and answer to these charges, as God shall -give you courage!" and again came a loud blast of the trumpet. - -The Count of Ehrenstein felt himself free, for those who had stood -beside him had drawn back. He gazed wildly round him--took a step -forward--stretched forth his hands as if struck with sudden blindness, -and then fell prone to the ground without sense or motion. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII. - - -When the Count of Ehrenstein opened his eyes, it seemed to him as if -he were in a dream, or as if he had been dreaming. The shrouded -figures, the darkened chapel, all had passed away, and everything was -restored to the same state as it had been before the awful apparition -had presented itself to his sight. There sat the Emperor in the centre -of the table, the knights forming the court were placed around. -Ferdinand, Father George, Franz Creussen, and those who had followed -them, stood in the centre aisle; the torches glided upon the walls and -pillars, and the end of the nave was crowded with the gaily dressed -nobles and officers of the Imperial Court. He himself, supported by -two guards, was seated on a settle, a few yards to the left of the -Emperor; and Count Rudolph of Schönborn, with his arm crossed upon his -chest, was gazing at him attentively, as if watching the progress of -his recovery. - -The next moment, the Emperor's voice was heard, saying, in a loud -stern tone, "We can wait no longer; we must proceed to judgment." - -"Stay, my lord, stay," replied Count Rudolph; "he revives, he is -opening his eyes." - -"Where am I?" murmured the Count, in a low tone. "What has become of -them? Where have they gone to?" - -"Whom do you mean?" asked Count Rudolph, gravely. - -"My brother and his followers," said the Count, closing his eyes -again, as if afraid of beholding some dreadful sight. "I saw them -there--there before me." - -"Your brain has wandered, my good lord," said Count Rudolph; "all are -here present who have been here to-night." - -"It is a warning from Heaven," observed the voice of Father George, -"calling upon a bad man, perhaps for the last time, to repent of what -he has wrongly done, and to make restitution of what he unjustly -holds. Let him obey the voice of conscience, before it be too late." - -"Your last words, my lord," said Count Rudolph, "uttered just before -you fell, were insulting to the Emperor and his court. You appealed to -another tribunal; but, from what you have just said, it would seem -that you were not then in command of your understanding. Doubtless, -the Emperor will take this into consideration, and hear anything that -you may have to say before he pronounces judgment between you and your -nephew, as he is about to do." - -The Count rose feebly, with a pale cheek and haggard eye; and Count -Frederick of Leiningen, who was gazing at him, exclaimed, in an eager -and a friendly tone, "I beseech you, William of Ehrenstein, do -justice, and remember equity. To every one here present, I believe, -this case seems perfectly clear. Your brother's son stands before -you--there cannot be a doubt of it. It is proved that he was born in -lawful marriage; yield to him that which is rightly his; and, by a -grateful acquiescence in that which you cannot prevent, atone for the -past, and induce him not to inquire farther into deeds that it were -best to leave obscure." - -"A little comfortable darkness is not unpleasant to most men," said -the jester, from behind his lord; but the Count of Ehrenstein waved -his hand fiercely, exclaiming, "I will never yield that which is mine -to this base tissue of forged evidence. My lands may be torn from me -by the arm of power; but I will not consent to the tyranny that wrongs -me." - -"Have you aught more to say?" demanded the Emperor, gazing at him -sternly. The Count was silent, rolling his eyes around, as if seeking -for something to reply, and finding naught; and the monarch, after a -moment's pause, proceeded. - -"To your judgment, noble lords, I leave this cause," he said. "You -will consider, first, whether you have evidence sufficient; next, if -you have, you will judge whether the claim of this young gentleman be, -or be not, fully substantiated. I will have no voice therein, but -leave you free to decide upon these questions, that no man hereafter -may say you have been influenced by aught but your own sense of right -and justice." Thus saying, he rose from his seat, and took two steps -back, standing with his arms folded upon his chest, and his eyes bent -upon the ground. A low and murmured consultation instantly took place -amongst the gentlemen round the table; and, after a very short -hesitation, the eldest rose, and, turning to the Emperor, said, "We -have decided, my lord, that the evidence is fully sufficient." - -"Then judge upon it," replied the Emperor, briefly. "I am here to see -your judgment executed." - -Again a low murmured consultation took place, and, once more, the old -knight rose and said, "We find, upon the evidence tendered to us by -Ferdinand, hitherto called of Altenburg, that he is the lawful son of -the late Count Ferdinand Charles of Ehrenstein, and as such entitled -to the lands, lordships, rights, and privileges of the house of -Ehrenstein, upon doing due and customary homage, and rendering such -service to the Imperial Crown as his predecessors have done before -him." - -There was a dead silence for a moment. The Count clenched his hands -tight together, and gnashed his teeth; and then Count Frederick of -Leiningen, and Father George of Altenburg, took Ferdinand by the hand, -and led him between them to the Emperor. He was about to kneel, and -tender homage at once; but the monarch took him in his arms, and -embraced him, saying, "I give you joy, young Sir, upon the recovery of -your own. Reserve your homage, however, for another day, when it shall -be received in public, in our city of Spires. At present, there is -another task before you, and one more form to be gone through, before -I place you in that chair, to take the first steps in judging those -who have wronged you." He then raised his voice, and said, aloud, "Let -the trumpet sound, and the herald call upon any one who denies that -Ferdinand, hitherto named 'of Altenburg,' is of right, Count of -Ehrenstein, to come forward now, and show cause why he should not be -pronounced such by the Imperial Court, and received to homage -accordingly. Sound!" - -Instantly the trumpet sounded at the door of the chapel, and a herald -made proclamation in due form. All men listened to the words in -silence, not, indeed, expecting any reply, except it were from Count -William. - -To the surprise of all, however, a voice, not very far from where the -Emperor stood, exclaimed aloud, "I do deny his title!" - -There was a slight movement among the crowd; the lords and knights -made way for the appellant; all eyes from the other parts of the -chapel turned in the direction of the altar, and wonder, not unmixed -with scorn, was depicted on every countenance but two or three, when -the jester advanced from the group around the Emperor, and took his -way straight towards the chair in which the monarch had lately sat. - -"What foolery is this?" cried one. - -"Cast the mad fellow out!" said another. - -"This is no time for such jests," said a third. - -But, with a firm and lordly step, a head held high, and an air of -dignity and command in his whole look, the jester walked up to the -table, seated himself in the central chair, and then looking round to -the knights who had pronounced judgment, he said, in a loud, clear -voice, "You have pronounced that Ferdinand of Ehrenstein is the lawful -son of Ferdinand Charles, upon good, just, and true evidence. But -before you pronounce him Count of Ehrenstein you must prove that -Ferdinand Charles is dead." - -Thus saying, he removed the unsightly cap from his head, and with it a -large quantity of white hair, threw the bauble from his hand into the -midst of the aisle, cast back the cloak from his shoulders, and gazed -around him,--as lordly a man, in his presence and bearing, as any in -the whole court. - -As he did so, a cry, strange and horrible, came from the group on the -left; and Count William of Ehrenstein darted forward, with his hands -clasped tight together--gazed for an instant, with wild eagerness, in -the face of him who had so boldly seated himself in the Emperor's -chair--and then falling on his knees, exclaimed, "Ferdinand! -Ferdinand!" - -The multitude in the chapel seemed at once to conceive the whole; and -a loud shout--the mixture of surprise and satisfaction--burst from -them, and made the vaulted roof ring. At the same moment, too, good -Franz Creussen strode up to the table, and taking the Count's hand in -his, wrung it hard, exclaiming, "Welcome to your own again, my good -and noble lord!" - -But how shall I depict all the varied expressions on the -countenances of those who surrounded the table at that moment:--the -joy, the surprise, the bewilderment in the face of Ferdinand of -Ehrenstein;--the agony and despair in that of his uncle, as he still -knelt, with the eye of his brother fixed even fiercely upon him; the -look of terror and dismay of old Karl von Mosbach; and the calm and -triumphant glance of satisfaction in the eyes of the two old knights -who had accompanied Ferdinand thither, and of several other hardy -warriors around. - -Nor was there less pleasure in the aspect of Count Frederick of -Leiningen, who, after having paused for a moment to let the first -feelings have way, advanced, and laid his hand upon the shoulder of -him who had so lately appeared as his jester, and said aloud, "This is -Ferdinand Charles, Count of Ehrenstein, delivered by my assistance -from the bonds of the infidel. No man, who knows him and looks upon -him, will deny it; but, should there be any one bold enough so to do, -I will prove the fact, either by my body against his in battle, or by -the course of true evidence; showing that this noble Count has, ever -since his captivity, been in constant communication with the Grand -Master of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem; who, at his intercession -and upon his bond, has ransomed, from time to time, every one of his -companions made captive at the same time with himself; and would have -ransomed him also, long ago, had not the sum demanded been utterly -unreasonable. William of Ehrenstein, do you deny that this is your -brother?" - -"I do not," answered the unhappy man, bending his head down to the -table, and covering his eyes with his hands. "It is--it is my brother. -Fool that I was not to know him sooner!" - -"Fool that you were, indeed," replied his brother; "for fool must be -every man who takes not warnings repeatedly given. You have had every -means; you have had every chance. When I could have struck you in the -halls that you had taken from my son,--when I could have punished you -at the board, where you had no right to sit but as a guest,--when I -could have made you bow the head amongst the soldiery, where you had -no place but as a vassal--I forebore; although I knew you to be -perfidious, blood-stained, cruel! But yet I hoped that there might -be some grace left,--that some redeeming quality--some tardy -repentance of error--might give room for clemency,--might excuse, to -my own heart, the traitor against my own life, the plotter against my -child, the persecutor of my wife, the assassin of a faithful though -humble friend. Yet here, even here, to the very last, no touch of -remorse has shaken you,--no shame has found place in your bosom. When -proofs, as clear as day, have established rights of another and your -own guilt, you have resisted, with base and dishonourable subterfuges, -the restitution of that to which you had no claim; and have striven to -murder, with words, him whom your steel was impotent to reach. The day -of mercy and tenderness is past; I have swept from my bosom every -feeling of brotherly love--every memory of youthful hours--all the -linked tenderness of young affections,--all the sweet bonds of the -early heart. I deal with you as traitor, knave, assassin;--false to -your brother and your lord; and henceforth, from me, hope neither -grace, nor favour, nor compassion. Not as you have done to others will -I do to you; but, with the stern and rigid arm of impartial justice, I -will strike at proved crimes and wickedness unrepented.--My lord the -Emperor," he continued, rising, "I have usurped this seat too long, -and crave your gracious pardon; but at your hands I demand this man, -my vassal and my liegeman, whom I formerly called brother, to deal -with him, in my court, according as justice shall determine; and -justice he shall have, even to the uttermost jot, according to the -laws and customs of the nobles of this realm." - -While he spoke, the culprit had remained with his head bent down, and -his face hidden; but the moment that the stern words left the Count's -lips, his brother made a convulsive motion forward, and grasped his -knees, exclaiming, "Ferdinand! Ferdinand!--Have mercy, have pity!" - -But the Count spurned him from him, asking, in a deep fierce tone, -"Have you had pity?" And as the unfortunate man fell back upon the -pavement, there was a shrill cry--not exactly a shriek, but the sound -of grief rather than of terror; and suddenly from between the pillars -which separated the south aisle from the nave, a beautiful form darted -forward, passed the knights before the table, passed the prostrate -suppliant and his brother, passed Father George and the Emperor, and, -advancing straight to Ferdinand of Ehrenstein, caught his hand, and, -casting herself upon her knees at his feet, raised that beautiful face -toward him, exclaiming, "Ferdinand! Ferdinand! my husband, my beloved! -Now, remember the promise that you made me, the oath you swore. Save -my father: intercede for him--now, even now, when the warm gush of -parental love must be flowing from the heart of him who has our fate -in his hands, when the long yearnings of the soul to see his child -must make his spirit tender. Save my father--save him, my husband; by -your oath, by our hopes, by our mutual love. Kneel to him--I will -kneel too." - -Ferdinand replied not but by a mute caress; but then advancing, he -bent his knee before the Count, saying, "My father!" Adelaide followed -timidly, and knelt beside him. But the Count seemed not to notice her; -and, casting his arms round the youth's neck, he bent his head over -him, while tears bedewed his cheeks, murmuring with faltering accents, -"My son! My brave, my noble son!" - -At the same time he strove to raise him; but Ferdinand remained upon -his knee, and lifting his eyes to the Count's face, he answered, "Oh, -my father, my dear father! Welcome, welcome from bonds, from -captivity, from the grave, to receive your own, and to make all your -own happy. A boon, a boon, my father--in this hour of unexpected, of -unparalleled joy, grant your child one boon. Cloud not this hour of -happiness by the darkest blot that can stain existence. Spare your -brother. He may have wronged you, he may have wronged me, but he is -still your brother. Let it not be said that there was one man in all -your lordships who had real cause to mourn, that the Count of -Ehrenstein came to claim his own again. Let it be all bright, let it -be an hour of sunshine and of joy to every one, that brought you back -to us, when we all thought you lost for ever." - -Adelaide also clasped her hands, and, gazing in his face, strove -eagerly to speak, but terror had too strong possession of her, and all -that she could utter was, "He is my father--have mercy, have mercy!" - -"He is your father, Lady," answered the Count, sternly; "he is my -brother. His wrongs to me I could forgive--I do forgive them. His -wrongs to those who were dearer to me than life, I forgive them too. -But he has wronged others, ay, and with a darker and more devilish art -than man might fancy hell itself could produce--blackened the name of -the honest and the true, of the most faithful of servants and friends, -that he might stifle in the blood of the messenger the crimes -committed against him who sent him. Entreat not, Ferdinand, for it is -in vain. In this I am immoveable. The hour of mercy, as I have said, -is past. Endurance has been prolonged to the utmost; and not even the -voice of a son, dear and beloved though he may be, can shake me in my -purpose. It is all, all in vain. Rise, youth: if I must speak plain, I -deny your boon--I refuse your prayer; and this man dies, as I hope--" - -"Hold!" said Father George, "there is still another voice to be -heard." - -"Not yours, good Father," said the Count. "I love, I esteem you. I -know that for this object you have laboured to unite him who is -dearest to me on this earth, to the daughter of him who has become my -bitterest foe; and I have seen and suffered it, for her virtues atone -for the crime of being his daughter. But I have suffered it with the -full resolve of guarding myself sternly against your pious policy, and -not permitting my firm heart to be moved, even by filial love or -parental tenderness, to pardon him who has hardened his heart till -pity were folly, and mercy were injustice. Speak not for him; for I -will not hear. Your voice is powerless as theirs." - -"There may be another stronger," said the monk; and at the same moment -a lady, closely veiled, advanced from behind him. - -"I know not that!" she said (and she, too, knelt at the Count's feet), -"my voice was once strong with you, my noble lord. I am sure that it -will be powerful still, unless you are changed indeed--changed in -heart, as I am in form, unless your spirit has lost that beauty of -essence which I have lost of person. Yet my voice, now as ever, shall -be raised only in entreaty, beseeching you to remember hours of -tenderness and love long past, and to grant life and pardon to this -man, your brother, for the sake of one who has mourned and wept full -twenty years for you." - -A strange change had come over the Count of Ehrenstein. It could -hardly be said he listened. He heard it, it is true; but his spirit -seemed pre-occupied by other thoughts. His face turned deadly pale; he -trembled in every limb; he gasped, as if for breath; and all he could -utter was, "That voice--that voice!" As she ended, he stretched forth -his hands eagerly towards the veil, but ere he could touch it, she -threw it back herself, and after one momentary gaze, he cast his arms -around her, exclaiming, "My wife, my beloved!" and pressed her to his -bosom, with a convulsive clasp. - -There was a deep silence through the chapel for some moments, and -then, as she still remained resting on her husband's bosom, the voice -of the Countess of Ehrenstein murmured a few words in his ear. - -"Take him," cried the Count, suddenly, casting wide his right arm, and -pointing to his brother, while his left still pressed his wife to his -heart: "do with him what you will,--I give him to you, and renounce -all power over him and his fate." - -Adelaide caught the lady's hand, and kissed it; and gently releasing -herself from her husband's embrace, the Countess of Ehrenstein -approached his brother, and said, in a low tone, "You are free, my -lord; you had better, perhaps, retire, and for a time betake you to -some place of seclusion till my lord and husband has forgotten some of -the past events, or has time to think more gently of them." - -The unhappy man bowed his head low, and with pale cheek, turned away. -The crowd drew back to let him pass; but ere he could take two steps -from the spot where this scene had passed, Adelaide sprang forward and -knelt before him. He had not noticed--he had not seemed to see her -before; but now she raised her beautiful face towards him, with the -rich brown hair falling back, and the torch-light streaming on her -brow; and, in a tone of musical melancholy, she said, "Forgive me, my -father! Oh! forgive me, and let me go with you to comfort you. What I -have done, was done only in the hope of saving you, not from undutiful -disobedience. I learned that these events were coming, only under the -most solemn vow of secrecy, and even then but vaguely. I was told -enough, however, to know, or at least to believe, that the only means -of rescuing my father from destruction, was by giving my hand to one -whose voice might be most powerful with my uncle. I trust I hope that -the love, which I own I felt, had no weight in my resolve; but, at all -events, you are saved, my father; and my first duty now is, to beseech -your forgiveness, and to try to soothe and to console you." - -For an instant, as she spoke, her father eyed her with a stern and -angry glance. Old passions revived; he forgot how he had fallen: -pride, and the lingerings of a vengeful spirit, made themselves felt -again; but as he raised his eyes, all that he saw around brought back -the bitter and humiliating present. He felt that he was crushed down -to the very earth,--nay, more, he felt that his own crimes crushed -him. His heart was humbled--the first step to true repentance--and -that better feeling threw open the gates of the breast to others: -parental love returned; ay, and even a sense of gratitude for that -which his child had done. He saw, he understood the motives on which -she had acted; and listening, softened, to the last words she spoke, -he put his arms around her, and leaning down his head, for the first -time, he wept. - -"I will go with you,--I will go with you," murmured Adelaide. - -"Nay, my child, it must not be," replied her father. "I do believe you -have acted for the best; but now you are bound in duty to another. -Stay with your husband. I have done him wrong; but he loves you -deeply, I am sure; and you shall teach him, by your gentle tenderness, -to forget your father's faults.--Adieu, my child! May God bless and -protect you!" - -As he spoke, the Count of Ehrenstein strode forward, and took him by -both the hands. "William," he said, "William, do you repent of what -you have done?" - -"From my heart and soul, Ferdinand," replied his brother. "Nay, more, -I have ever repented bitterly. I have found that one crime, besides -its own remorse, brings a thousand others to be repented of. The -things I have done have haunted me by day and night: they have -embittered life; and I have learned, too late, that though crime may -purchase a moment's joy, it is sure to be followed by an existence of -misery. But you know not--oh! you know not, you who have lived in one -course of integrity and honour, how entanglements and temptations -crowd upon one, how they interweave a net, from which the heart, were -it as strong as a lion, could not break forth, when once we have -plunged into a course of wrong,--how the evil wish begets the evil -act,--how the evil act calls to the lie to conceal it,--how the lie, -in its shame, has recourse to a new crime to cover it. None can know, -none can tell, what are the difficulties, the agonies--what are the -struggles, the writhings, of those who go on in doing what is wrong, -with some sense of right remaining. Oh! the longing for deliverance; -the eager thirst to obliterate the past; the tender thoughts of youth -and infancy, and innocence and peace; the fearful looking forward to -the future day, when Satan will claim his tribute of fresh wickedness -to purchase a brief immunity from the penalty of the soul's dark bond; -the effort for firmness, even in the course we have taken; the feeling -that there is no real strength but in virtue, no fortitude but in -honesty! It is inexpressible, it cannot be described or told: but I -call God to witness that I speak the truth, when I say, that I even I, -for the last twenty years--though I seemed to have gained all that -ambition could desire--though wealth, power, luxury, enjoyment, were -all at my command--have suffered tortures that hell itself can hardly -equal, and which might well expiate a life of sin. I know now, I know -bitterly, what is the meaning of 'the worm that never dies, and the -fire that can never be quenched.' And what has this strife made -me?--how changed a thing from what I was before! If I look back but -for a few short years, I can see myself a different being. Do you -remember, Ferdinand, when we were boys together at Würzburg, and this -good lord here of Leiningen was our gay companion, how cheerfully the -days passed, how light the hours seemed? Time had no weight: existence -was a blessing. The free, sunshiny air came with its wings loaded with -enjoyment; the breath of the spring flowers was like the balm of Eden, -the singing of the birds an angels' choir. I enjoyed all, in those -days; I loved you all well. My heart was open as the Heaven to every -human creature. The whole universe had nothing but delight, except -when sometimes I thought, with a regretful sullenness, that you were -destined to the busy scenes in which I longed to mingle, and I to a -cloister's gloom, and the separation of a hard vow from all my fellow -men. But that was nothing: a light cloud upon a summer's sky, in a -moment borne away, and all was sunshine again, and cheerfulness.--Do -you remember, Ferdinand? It seems to me but yesterday." - -His face lighted up, as if the sunshine of early days shone forth on -his countenance; and as he spoke, he laid his hand forgetfully upon -his brother's arm, and gazed upon him with a look of tender memory. -The Count, too, gave way to the soft influences of those early days: -they came back upon him, as his brother spoke. One harsh feeling after -another faded away, like darkness giving place to light: he leaned his -arm upon Count William's shoulder; and, bending down his head, while a -tear trickled from his eye, he said, "I do remember, William; I do -remember all right well." - -"And what am I now?" asked his brother, suddenly withdrawing from him, -as if he felt that he was not worthy of that kind familiar touch; "a -wretch, an outcast, hated by all, abhorrent to myself. But that is -nothing--all nothing to the past. I am happier now than heretofore; -for the effect of that dark struggle in my heart was strange and -terrible; from kind, I had become fierce and cruel; from gentle and -patient, angry and proud. Powerless to enjoy, I hated the sight of -enjoyment; and with a chain of adamant about my heart, the sight of a -free spirit in another was bitterness to me. Only, indeed, in the case -of this youth and this dear girl did I ever witness the pure and -simple pleasures of happy innocence, without hating what I witnessed -for the reproof it bore me. But it was not so with them.--He knows it -was not.--In his wild energies and soaring fancy, in his free spirit -and his bold heart, he would often call back the brother of my youth, -vaguely but sweetly, and in the regrets I felt there might mingle -melancholy, but no pain. It was too indistinct to wound. It was as a -sight or a sound that we have known in childhood, coming back upon the -ear of age, and cheating it with a misty dream of early joy. - -"Oh, it was sweet to mark him; and, though sometimes--provoked to -sudden frenzy, as if a demon whispered, he had wrongs to avenge upon -me--I would be fierce and wayward with him, like a tyrant as I was, -yet Heaven can testify that I loved him better than any being on -earth, except this my child." - -The Count suddenly took him by the hand, and, pointing to Father -George, he said, "There is hope yet, William--good hope, I am sure; -the seed may lie long in the foul earth, but will germinate and bud, -and grow and blossom, and bear fruit at last. Speak with this holy -man: he will comfort you, he will lead you to a better forgiveness -than a brother's, which is already given. A time in solitude, in -thought, and prayer, will calm down remorse into repentance, and hope -and peace may yet visit your latter days. I have been entangled for -twenty years in earthly bonds: you in fetters that have chained the -spirit. I have returned, against all likelihood, to claim that which -was once mine; you will return, too, to take a former and a better -nature upon you. If she so wills it, this dear girl shall go with you -to comfort you." - -"No," exclaimed his brother,--"no. That selfishness shall be the first -I will cast off. She shall remain where present duty calls her, with -those who love and will cherish her. God's blessing upon you, my -child! may you be happy as you deserve! and, that no thought for me -may break in upon your peace, be assured that the only state in which -I can now find repose, is that of solitude and thought, where, removed -afar from the battlefield of the passions, I can rest after the combat -in which I have been vanquished; not without pain from my wounds, and -shame for my defeat, but still with the hope of recovery, and trust in -the future.--Adieu! adieu!" and, disengaging his hand from Adelaide, -as she bent her head over it bedewing it with tears, he turned towards -the door of the chapel, and walked silently away. - -Father George followed him, without a word, merely waving his hand, in -token of farewell to the party that remained; and a number of those -present crowded round the Count of Ehrenstein, eagerly grasping his -hand, and congratulating him upon the events of that night. Adelaide, -with her head bent and her eyes full of tears, stood, like a lily of -the valley in the shade, by her young husband's side; and Ferdinand, -with expanded chest, high head, and beaming eyes, gazed from his -mother to his father, who stood for a moment in the midst, with a calm -and tempered satisfaction on his countenance, thanking all, but with -his mind evidently abstracted from that which was immediately passing -around him. Who can say what were his sensations at that moment?--what -was the strange turmoil of feelings in his bosom? There are times when -the meeting of the past and the present is sensibly felt, from their -strange contrast. We have all seen two rivers unite and flow on in -peace, mingling their waters together so gradually that the line of -their junction can scarcely be told; but many have beheld two torrents -rushing down in fury, like contending armies, and, for a time, -struggling in a whirlpool, ere they blend and rush away. Like that -whirlpool, perhaps, were the emotions of his mind, when the long lapse -of the dark and stormy past first met the gay and sunshiny present. -But he was not without power over his own mind; and he conquered the -tumult in a few moments. One glance at his wife, as she still clung to -his arm; brief thanks to his friends; and then, turning to the -Emperor, with the lady's hand in his, he bent the knee, and said, "I -do you homage, my liege lord, not only with a true but with a grateful -heart; and among all the causes of regret with which my long captivity -has furnished me, there is none greater than that I have been -prevented thereby from drawing a sword, which was once good, in behalf -of your just rights. All is now in peace, thank God; but, should it be -wanted, there is still strength in this old frame to go with you to -the field; and, when it fails, here are young, hardy limbs,"--and he -pointed to Ferdinand,--"which will never be found unwilling to mount a -horse and couch a lance in your Majesty's behalf." - -"God grant that we never need them," replied the Emperor, raising him; -"but should a wise head and a strong arm, a good sword and a stout -heart, be needed in our cause, there is nowhere I will seek them more -confidently than with the Count of Ehrenstein and his son." - -"And now, knights and nobles," he continued, gaily, "we will bid you -all adieu, and back to Spires; for, by my faith! we have been out so -late at night, without pretext of war, or feud, or hunting party, that -our fair Empress might think we were fooling away the hours with some -rosy country maiden, had we not so strange a tale as this to tell her, -of events that have been well worth the seeing.--Good night to all." - -Thus saying, he quitted the chapel, followed by his train. For some -minutes after, a buzz rose up from within, as of many voices speaking. -Then came forth men and torches. Horses and litters were sought for, -and away towards Hardenberg wound a long train, to which the gates -opened, and spears and men-at-arms, and nobles in gay raiment passed -over the drawbridge and through the dark archway. For an hour there -were sounds of revelry within. A health, with a loud shout, was given -in the great hall; and while many prolonged the banquet and drained -the cup to a late hour, two young and graceful figures, lighted by a -lamp, moved slowly along one of the wide corridors of the castle. The -gentleman held a lamp in his hand, and gazed down upon his fair -companion; the lady, with both hands circling his arm, bent her eyes -on the ground, and trod softly, as if in fear of her own foot-falls. -Bertha, the gay maid, stood at the end of the passage, and opened the -door for them to pass through. She closed it when they were gone; and -then, clasping her hands together, she bent them backwards, looked up -half sighing, half laughing, and said, "Well, they are happy at -last.--Lackaday." - - - - -CHAPTER XLIV. - - -The public is a body very much like that which assembles round a -dinner table, and the wise host will cater for all. For some the -substantial joints, for some the _hors d'[oe]uvres_ are necessary, and -some will dwell long upon the dessert, which others will not deign to -taste. Those need not eat, who do not like it; and thus, with the -explanations at the end of a long tale, we may say to the reader, -close the page if you have heard enough. In the case of many, -imagination will supply all gaps, explain all obscurities, far better, -probably, than the writer can; at least, that skilful limner will use -brighter colours than any that the artist can employ; but with many -another man, on the contrary, fancy requires a leading hand; or -curiosity exacts a full account of what the author himself intended. -For such, I must give at least one more scene, and that shall be in -the same place whence we first set out,--the castle of Ehrenstein. - -It was in the great old hall there--that hall so long deserted, or -only tenanted for an hour or two, to be again abandoned. Its aspect, -however, was now changed; the mould and damp had disappeared from the -walls and columns; rich stained glass in the windows, receiving the -full light of the summer sun, poured a flood of glorious colours -across the pavement; wreaths of flowers wound around the massive -pillars; green boughs and glittering armour hung upon the wall; and, -though the serving men, from time to time, looked round with habitual -dread at any sudden sound, yet the chief party, which remained in the -hall after the mid-day meal, was full of gay life and cheerful -happiness. - -That party was small in number compared with those we have before seen -in the same mansion; for the retainers of the house, though lately -increased in number, had withdrawn, and left the lord of the castle -and his family alone. Old Seckendorf, indeed, still occupied a seat -amongst the rest, but the fact was, that the stout aged knight, after -a morning spent in hard and vigorous exercise, had eaten and drunk to -repletion, and was now nodding away the hour of digestion with his -head leaning on his hand. At the head of the table, sat the old Count -of Ehrenstein himself, with ineffaceable traces of cares and labours -still visible on his cheek and brow, his hair white as snow, and his -beard and eyebrows somewhat grey, but with a clear light in his keen -eye, the rose upon his cheek, his frame firm and strong, and a hand -that could raise a cup rounded with wine untrembling to his lips. -Through all and above all sparkled that living grace which never dies; -which age cannot wither, nor time touch; which death itself--as those -who have marked the clay of men kindly and cheerful in their nature, -must know well--which death itself, I say, gives over to corruption -undiminished--the grace which an elevated, generous, and noble spirit -spreads through the whole frame that contains it. - -By his side sat his long-lost but well-beloved wife, who now, in the -garments of her rank and station, freed from grief, anxiety, and -apprehension, had recovered from the grasp of time a great portion of -that beauty for which she had once been famous. Her eyes were turned -upon the face which she had so constantly loved, her hand rested near -his, as if ready to touch it, and assure herself that he was there -indeed; and the half opened lips, when he spoke, showed how she drank -in his words, and how musical to her ear was the voice which she had -once deemed stilled in death. - -Near them were another pair, in the first fruition of life's brightest -hopes, Ferdinand and Adelaide. His face was all brightness; his joy -was at its full; care and sorrow had no hold upon his heart; from his -own bosom spread forth a light that brightened all things; and the -world, and every object it contained, seemed instinct with joy, and -lustrous with happiness. Man's nature is not more susceptible of -pleasurable emotions than woman's, and, indeed, perhaps the finer -delights, the more delicate enjoyments which she feels, are to him -unknown; yet, as an equivalent, those very fine movements of the -spirit, which are the source of so much delight, are often the cause -of shadowy afflictions. Man can enjoy to the full, woman seldom, -without some vague sensation of a different character,--it may -be melancholy, it may be regret, it may be fear--mingling even -with the cup of joy, perhaps to diminish, perhaps to heighten the -flavour,--which I know not. - -The lady's face was full of satisfaction, her beautiful eyes beamed -with joy; but yet--oh, that there should ever be but yet--those eyes -would sometimes turn thoughtfully towards the ground, and a shade -would come over that angelic face; it could not be called a cloud, it -was so light, so evanescent. Perhaps the reader may divine, without -explanation, the cause of that vague shadow, or, at all events, a word -will give him a clue. Her father was not there; and memories of his -fate and his loneliness would interweave themselves with the warp of -thought, and chequer with darker figures the bright web of her own -happiness. - -One more figure completed the group,--it was that of good Father -George, now prior of his order; the abbacy he had declined; although, -since the events we have lately narrated, the worthy but weak Lord -Abbot had died--it was whispered from a surfeit, of a very nice but -dangerous animal, called in the language of the country "_Nine-eyes_," -which has slain almost as many great men as the sword. The good monk -hardly looked as fresh and well as when first we beheld him, for he -had lately passed through some scenes of great excitement; and it is a -curious fact, that men of advanced life, who generally are less -susceptible of strong emotions, suffer more severely than others when -they do feel them. Nevertheless, during the meal he had been more gay -than usual, and now he was prolonging the conversation aloud with the -Count, while, from time to time, Ferdinand and Adelaide spoke together -in low tones, of things which referred only to themselves. - -"Ah! my good lord," said the Prior, "if the verse-maker Ovid had lived -in these days, he might have added more than one book to his -Metamorphoses, and, in this very place, might have found matter for -many a long and ponderous verse. We have all, indeed, undergone -transformation--you from a jester to a count; I from a poor monk to a -rich prior; and you, my good youth, from a stripling to a married man. -Nor amongst the least is the change of this old hall. Why, not two -months ago, that is when last I saw it, it was all dark and mouldy, -the stone-work peeling away, the rafters rotting and inclined to fall, -with nought in it but the old banners and the great chair of state. -Men were afraid to tread it for fear of spectres, and the whistling -wind, the bats, and the dust, were its only tenants. Now it looks as -gay and as sunshiny as a bridal banquet-chamber, with its gay garlands -and festive flowers, and all fears seem laid aside in its new -freshness. - -"Nay, not quite all fears," answered the Count; "and I believe they -never will be; for there is nothing so enduring as traditional terror. -From time to time, some of the men will look around over the left -shoulder, whenever the name of ghost or apparition is mentioned; and -often have I seen a merry tale interrupted in the midst, by one man -being seized with fears and infecting all the rest. But I do not much -mind that. At present, their terror does not go to an inconvenient -length; and with the passing days it will wear down to a calm and -wholesome superstition, which may have its advantages. Doubtless, too, -those who know all the secrets of the place, will whisper, amongst the -rest, the causes of all they have seen, and if they do, the marvellous -will suffer greatly, though doubtless, in winnowing truth from -falsehood, some part of the chaff still stays with the corn." - -"What were the causes, my dear lord?" asked Adelaide, fixing her eyes -upon him; "I am well nigh as ignorant as the others; and though, as -Ferdinand can tell you, I am not much given to fear--" - -"When love is in the case, dear child," said the Count, interrupting -her, with a smile. "But come, as a reward for that dear love, I will -tell you all." - -"It has been well rewarded already," she said, looking at her husband; -"but yet I would fain know, and we will take the history as a pure -grace. I guess at some things, and I know others, but still there is -much that is dark and misty; and I have often heard, my dear lord and -uncle, that woman's curiosity will not rest satisfied till all has -been discovered. I see amongst us here in the hall at meal-time, many -a scarred and weather-beaten face that I know not; but all their eyes -seem to turn to you as if you were a saint, so that they must have -known you long; and I hear them talk of distant lands and strange -adventures, and therefore I deem they must have been your companions -in the Holy Land." - -"My good friends and fellow-soldiers of the Cross, my dear child," -replied the old Count. "With a noble train of such as these, now more -than twenty years ago, I left my home to fight, in company with other -lords of this and distant lands, for the deliverance of Christ's -sepulchre. We were bound by a vow to give our banners to the wind upon -the shores of Syria or Africa before a certain day; but in the fair -city of Venice, the starlight daughter of the blue Adriatic, of which -the heathen Venus was but an imperfect type, I met with one who made -me long to break my oath--" and he laid his hand upon his wife's. -"When she became a soldier's bride, however, she felt for a soldier's -renown, and sadly, yet unmurmuringly, parted from me, that I might -fulfil the promise I had made. I went, dear child, leaving some -faithful friends and followers to guard her hither, after our first -child's birth; and then comes a time, on the events of which I will -not dwell. You have already heard too much, perchance. Suffice it that -I was wronged, and that the wrong has been forgiven. When I was -captured by the Saracens, some of my brave companions fell, some were -taken with me, some escaped to a castle of the Knights Hospitallers on -the African shore. There I had left a certain sum of treasure; but my -sword had plagued the infidels too sorely for them to let me go, -without enormous ransom. The Order of St. John and my comrades who had -escaped, trafficked eagerly with my captors to liberate me; but it was -in vain; and in those distant lands some years were consumed in these -fruitless endeavours. While they went on, I was permitted to see -several of my friends; and a plan struck me, for using their services -to gain the freedom of my companions in misfortune. At my desire, they -bound themselves to serve the Order of St. John in arms, a certain -number of years, upon condition that at the end of each man's time the -Order should redeem from slavery one of their comrades of equal rank, -they still retaining their homage to me. Thus, in the course of the -last four or five years, all of my train who survived had been set -free, the one part from the bondage of the infidel, the other from -their engagements to the Order; and as each man thus obtained -liberty, I sent him back hither with a sum of money, to watch over and -guard my child; for I knew that he still lived, although I had wept -for his mother as in the grave. To each I furnished a knowledge of the -secrets of this place,--for it has secrets, as you will soon -hear,--and bade them address themselves either to my reverend friend, -Father Francis, or to my old henchman, good Franz Creussen, for -farther information and directions. My own liberation seemed hopeless; -not a ray of light broke in upon the darkness of my fate; till some -good soul in England, where there are kind hearts and wealthy men, -left a large sum to the Knights of St. John, for the purpose of -ransoming the prisoners of the Cross. Still, the sum demanded for me -was very large: there were many who were suffering as severely as -myself: the Knights did not think it just to redeem any one man at -such a price; and I might have lingered still in Saracen bonds, had -not my noble friend, Frederick of Leiningen, come over to war in -behalf of the Order; and, when he heard of my state, gave up all the -recompense that was his due from the Hospitallers, to make up the -amount of my ransom, with what the Grand Master had already offered to -give. When the news first reached me that I was free, I cannot tell -you--for I am not a learned man, like my good brother--all the strange -thoughts and considerations that came into my mind. I fancied, if I -came back in my true character, supported by Count Frederick's power, -and the sixty or seventy good warriors I had sent back, I should have -to punish the guilty, as well as to reward the honest, and perhaps to -war for my inheritance against my own blood. I am not a harsh or cruel -man, my child, and the thought frightened me. I therefore bethought me -to take some disguise; but what to choose I knew not. If I came back -with shield and spear, as a follower of Count Frederick's, I felt sure -my brother would recognise me at once in a garb which I had so often -worn before his eyes. So I fell upon a jester's habit; for I had ever -been fond of a smart speech and a gay joke, and in my young days could -cope in his own coin with any fool of the imperial court. The dress -was sent me before I joined my friend, that his followers might not -know me in any other character; and I came hither in that garb, as you -know.--But now, to turn back to the fate of those I had sent over -before: three or four perished by the way, the rest arrived in safety. -The first, immediately on their return to their native land, visited -the cell of Father George, and from him received instructions how to -act.--I know not, my reverend friend," and he turned to the good monk, -"whether I read your intentions rightly; but it has always seemed to -me that your design was to collect the men together in one body, to be -ready for all emergencies; and that, foreseeing or hoping I should -myself in time return, you wished by superstitious impressions to -prepare my brother's mind for that event, and induce him to yield to -me, willingly and cheerfully, all that he had wrongly assumed." - -"Good faith! my dear son," replied Father George, "if the truth must -be told, I, at first, had no design, like many another man who is -supposed to act upon well-digested schemes of policy; when, if put -upon his truth and honour, he would acknowledge that circumstances -suggested deeds. I hid the men in the old vaults, when first they -arrived, because I knew not what else to do with them. Some of the -people of the place saw them, and took them for ghosts; so I said, 'In -Heaven's name, let them be ghosts!' It was a better mode of -concealment than any I could devise. Then, again, as their numbers -increased, it was necessary to provide them with food. My poor old -trembling hands could not carry up all that was necessary; and -therefore I applied to good Franz Creussen, who, I knew, would supply, -and not betray. With him the whole business of the apparitions was -matured; and from the key which you gave me long ago of the private -passages, other keys were made, to give the good men exit and entrance -when they pleased." - -"Ay," said the Count, "it is of those private passage I was about to -speak. You must know, my dear child, that when the old castle was -pulled down, some two hundred years ago, and a new one built in its -place, a famous architect was employed, who did not live to see his -whole designs completed, but was buried under one of the chambers, -where his tomb now stands. His son continued the work to a conclusion, -and the plans have never been made known to any but the lord of this -castle and his eldest son. Ere long, I will lead Ferdinand through the -whole of the building, and will show him the map thereof, which lies -in a niche of the architect's tomb. Suffice it to say, that the whole -of this vast structure, solid as it seems, and solid as it indeed is, -in reality, is double; there is as much beneath the surface of the -rock as above it. Every wall has its passage; between the ceiling of -one chamber and the floor of another, are rooms, and halls, and -staircases; and there is no part in the whole inhabited portion of the -castle of Ehrenstein, that I could not reach without showing myself to -one mortal eye of all those who are moving about in the clear and open -day. The great extent of the building, the masses of its towers and -walls, the cornices and mouldings, the buttresses and turrets, conceal -all the contrivances which were resorted to in its construction. No -eye gazing on it from without asks, 'with what chamber communicates -that loophole?' Or, 'why is there so great a space between one range -of windows and another?' All is in such good keeping, that all seems -natural and ordinary; and by means of these rooms and passages, you -and yours have been surrounded for the last five years, when you -thought yourselves most alone, by a body of men daily increasing, who, -at a word, would have seized the castle in their rightful lord's name. -Such were the circumstances when I myself arrived. I soon gathered, -from what I heard, that the old hall had been deserted, on account of -rumours of apparitions, and, having held frequent communication with -my friends here after my liberation, I easily divined the cause. More -information, however, was required, and that information I gained when -I undertook to watch in this hall with you, my son. From that moment -my course was determined, my path clear. I suffered events to take -their course, but added numerous warnings to my brother to soften his -heart, to awaken remorse, and to induce him to do right, without a -struggle, when the moment came. In your own secret marriage, my dear -children, I acquiesced, from feelings I cannot well define nor -describe. First, if ever there was one who won upon the heart at first -sight, it is this dear girl; and next, there was in my bosom a vague -unwillingness to strike the very blow I meditated, a lingering anxiety -for some excuse to pardon and forget. I gladly seized that which was -offered me; and however watchful and ready to step in and save my -child, should need be, yet I was not displeased to see him somewhat -tried by difficult circumstances, ere the day of his fortunes became -unclouded and serene. You may now range the events and their causes -easily for yourselves, for I have explained all that is needful to the -right understanding of the past." - -While the Count had been speaking, old Seckendorf had roused himself -from his slumber, and was listening attentively; but when a pause -ensued he exclaimed, "Ay, that accounts for many a good ghost, my -lord, but the one I saw was a real ghost, I will swear; for you had -not arrived at the castle then. Tell me that I would not know a -man-at-arms from a shadow! Pooh! pooh! I am too old a soldier for -that." - -"Doubtless, just such another ghost as the rest," replied the Count, -while Father George listened to the quiet smile. - -"Not a whit of it," cried Seckendorf, "it made no more noise than a -cat, and walked through the door as if it had been air.--I'll call -Bertha--Bertha saw it too," and striding to the door of the hall, -the old man shouted for our pretty friend at the top of his -voice,--"Bertha, Bertha!" he exclaimed; "some of you knaves send the -girl hither. Devil take the girl! any one ought to hear my voice at -the top of the west turret." - -"She is busy, Sir, I fancy," answered one of the men without; "but I -will call her for you;" and at the same moment the voice of Father -George exclaimed, "Herr von Seckendorf, come hither again. What would -you say, if I were the ghost?" - -"Pooh! nonsense!" exclaimed Seckendorf bluntly, "I won't believe it." - -"It is nevertheless true," answered Father George; "I was crossing the -end of the hall in the dusk to visit my young friend, Count Ferdinand, -here, when I saw you and Bertha together: I heard her scream, but, -guessing what was the occasion, took no notice, and went upon my way. -You may remember that you found me in his room; and as to my silent -step, I should think you had heard often enough from Count William, -that 'the noiseless sandal of the church reaches higher places than -the clanking heel of the man-at-arms;' at least, so he was wont to -say. He may think differently now." - -Adelaide had fallen into thought, as the good Father spoke, and the -shade had come over her fair brow. But Father George observed the -change, and, going over to her side, he said in a low voice, "Do not -grieve for him, my dear child. It was but yesterday your father owned -to me, that he had never known peace or happiness till now. He has -chosen his fate; Heaven has granted him a period between the turmoil, -the strife, the passions, the sins of the world, and that state where -all is irretrievable, and all to be accounted for. Doubt not that he -will use it to the best advantage; and if so, happy is it for him that -those things which withheld him from better thoughts and higher -purposes have been taken away. But should power, and reverence, and -honour still have any hold upon his mind, or any value in his eyes, -they are within his reach. The abbacy is still vacant, and undoubtedly -at his disposal; I know not whether he will seek it or not, and by not -one word will I endeavour to influence him. If he feels like me, he -will avoid that which has been a snare to most men, and a fall to -many; but, at all events, we will pray that God may grant him grace in -any state to fulfil the duties of his station wisely--but here comes -Bertha." - -"There, there," cried Seckendorf; "say nought of the ghost; that's -done. We'll have no more of them. But who, in fortune's name! has she -got with her?" - -"The Emperor's page," cried Adelaide; some degree of alarm mingling -with her surprise. - -Bertha, however, advanced up the hall with a timid and downcast look, -and glowing cheek, not at all with her usual gay and light-hearted air -and countenance; her steps were slow and hesitating; her bright eye -veiling itself under the sweeping lashes, and her hands, with the -invariable sign of bashful hesitation, playing with the tassels of her -bodice. Behind her came the page, with his plumed bonnet in his hand, -and more of sheepishness in his air, too, than was usual with himself -or any page of the day. But the matter was soon explained, though in -somewhat broken sentences. - -"Please you, my lord," said Bertha, presenting herself before the -Count; "here's one of the Emperor's pages--" - -"I was, pretty Bertha," interrupted the young man; "but I am now out -of my pagehood." - -"And he has come to ask a question," said Bertha. - -"To which I have got an answer," said the page, twirling round his -bonnet gaily, but casting down his eyes at the same time. - -"Not yet, master Karl," rejoined Bertha, quickly; "I told you it must -depend upon the will of my lord and lady." - -"Oh, but they won't refuse if you wish it," cried the youth. - -"Who told you I wished it?" exclaimed Bertha. "I only said that sooner -than break your heart--and you know you swore more than twenty times -that it would if I refused--I would marry you, just to save you from -drowning, or a halter, or some other bad kind of death; but that is -not to say that I wish it. On the contrary, I will do what my lord and -lady think fit. I am quite passive, and do nothing but out of pure -benevolence;" and she clasped her pretty hands before her, and rolled -one thumb round the other with the most indifferent air in the world. - -"Has inclination no share in it, my fair one?" said the Count, with a -smile; "if so, I think I shall withhold my consent; for such -indifferent marriages are never happy ones." - -Bertha's cheek began to grow warm, and she answered, in a hesitating -tone, "I can't say I dislike him, my lord--I like him as well as any -other man." - -"I must have something more than that, pretty Bertha," replied her -lord, with a slight degree of malice. "I am too grateful for all you -have done to serve those I love, to let you wed a man to whom your -whole heart is not given. You must like him better than any other man, -or never marry him." - -"Well, perhaps I do like him a little better than most," answered -Bertha, with a sigh at her confession. - -"Well enough to make a very good wife, my lord the Count," interposed -the page. - -"Never believe that any woman will make a good wife who does not love -her husband, young gentleman," rejoined the Lord of Ehrenstein. "Do -you love him with all your heart, Bertha?" - -"Yes," whimpered the girl. - -"Better than any?" - -"Yes." - -"Better than all? Would you give your life for him? Will you give it -up to him?" - -"Yes, yes, yes," she replied, and burst into a fit of tears. - -"Well, then, you shall have a dower and a blessing," replied the -Count; "and I doubt not you will, as he says, make him a very good -wife; for the sauciest maidens sometimes turn out the humblest -spouses. But what says the Emperor, my good youth?" - -"Oh, he says that I may do as I like," replied the young man; "and, -good faith! he could not well say less, for I believe he would have -married her himself if, by good luck, he had not had another wife." - -"Nay, that was a stroke of fortune on your behalf," answered the -Count, laughing; "in the lands I have just left, he would have married -her notwithstanding. But, by my faith! I think one such will prove -enough for any man." - -"Enough for me, my lord," said the page, with some grace; "I seek no -more, and with her shall find happiness enough." - -Bertha held out her hand to him with a warm smile, exclaiming, "Well, -I do love you dearly." - -"Right, right," cried the Count; "this is all right. We will take care -of your household, Bertha. Let your own heart make the sunshine, and -we will see that it shall have few worldly clouds; and now, if long -courtships be good, speedy weddings are better; so go your ways and -settle the day between you, leaving all the rest to us." - -Ere ten days more had passed, there was a marriage train wound down -from the castle towards the little chapel in the wood; for Bertha, -with a gay smile in her young mistress's face, had prayed that her -wedding might be there celebrated, instead of the loftier building at -the castle. The way was strewed with flowers by young girls from the -village, and garlands hung amongst the branches of the old oaks and -beeches. Light hearts and pretty faces gathered round; and nought was -wanting to the happiness of Bertha but the presence of her young lord -and the old Count, who had promised to give her to her husband. Both, -however, had ridden away from the castle at an early hour, and good -Franz Creussen had appeared in the bridal train as a substitute for -the Count of Ehrenstein, to perform the part of parent to the fair -bride. The Countess and Adelaide accompanied her, and when by the way -she ventured to express her regret that her good lord was not to be -present, Adelaide replied, with a smile, perhaps produced by a -comparison between her feelings at the moment and those with which she -had trod the same path herself as a bride, "Doubtless he will come, -Bertha; for he went away this morning early, without telling any one -his errand. I know he intended to be here." - -I have, far away in the beginning of this true history, described a -spot where the little chapel, and the door with its fretted -stone-work, first appeared on the road descending from the castle, and -when Bertha's bridal train reached that point, a group was seen in the -green glade before the portal, somewhat more splendid than might have -been expected to attend the bride-groom on his meeting with his -betrothed. There were dresses of silk and velvet, of gold and -embroidery, a banner or two waving above the horsemen, and a small -group of men-at-arms behind, with lances raised, and limbs hanging -drowsily, as if forming part of a scene in which they took no great -interest. In front were four or five gentlemen on foot, and the first -who came forward at a quick pace was the gay page. Behind, however, -were seen the Count of Ehrenstein and his son, and near them, a step -in advance, with head slightly bended, and all that air of dignity, if -not of pride, which is so frequently generated by the habit of -unlimited command, appeared the Emperor himself. He was speaking -eagerly to the Count of Ehrenstein, as if they had just met, but when -the two groups united, he took a kiss of Bertha's warm cheek, saying, -"I have come unasked to your wedding, fair maid, out of love for yon -youth and for you; make him a good wife as you have been a faithful -friend, and if he makes you a good husband he shall never want -advancement. Now let us forward to the ceremony: I will stand for his -father who is far away in Vienna, and you will have a noble godfather, -who will doubtless portion you as you deserve." - -Bertha replied not, but by low obeisance; but, in the mean while, the -Count of Ehrenstein had placed himself between his wife and his -step-daughter, and, addressing himself to the latter, he said, "Let -this be a joyful day for us all, my dear Adelaide! I have just -returned from your father. Thinking that in such a case as this, we -might well bury all bitter memories and unkind feelings of the past, I -went over to the Abbey to see if he would quit his solitude, and join -our little festival. Though he declined to quit his cell till his vows -be taken and his fate sealed, yet it will give peace and comfort to -your heart to know that our hands have clasped in peace, and that we -have mutually agreed to remember nought but that we are brothers. All -is forgiven. By me all shall be forgotten; if he remembers aught, it -is the secret of his own heart, and between him and his God. He is -seeking happiness in the only course where he can find it; and he bade -me tell you that your joy and peace was the only earthly blessing that -Heaven could bestow. No more shadows on that fair brow, then, my dear -child; for though I have marked them with love, I have marked them -with regret; and be assured that he who is most justly dear to you, -except your husband, knows best the way to his own peace." - -Adelaide replied not in words, but she took the old Count's hand, and -kissed it tenderly, and then accompanied her husband and father-in-law -to the chapel, where Bertha's marriage vows were speedily plighted. - -"And now, my good lord Count," said the Emperor, "I have come to spend -a day within your castle halls, bringing with me but a small escort; -for I know that the good nobles of this land are somewhat fearful of -encroachments upon their rights." - -"Had you come with a whole host, my liege lord," replied the Count, -"you should have been welcome; my heart is as free of fear as it is of -guile. I have served your house ere now in war and in counsel, and you -will see nought within my walls to make you doubt that I am ever ready -to do so still. Were you a bad or an unjust monarch, which I know you -not to be, you might, perchance, seek to infringe the rights, or -disturb the peace of your vassals; but I do not think the first with -whom you would begin would be the Count of Ehrenstein." - -"Assuredly not," replied the Emperor; "and to say the truth, the -object of my coming, noble friend, is to seek counsel and assistance -from your experience in framing some system by which the rights and -the happiness of all classes of people in this empire may be better -secured. The private wars of the lands, the constant feuds that take -place between cities and nobles, and between nobles themselves, as -well as the condition of the peasantry, form a great evil, which -requires some remedy. Count Frederick of Leiningen will join us this -night, and we will consult together--not bringing preconceived -opinions or unreasonable prejudices to council, and then fancying we -deliberate, but considering well and calmly whether anything can be -done, and if so, what had best be done to ameliorate the condition of -the people, and the institutions of the realm." - -They met as was proposed; and in the consultation of that night was -drawn out the first sketch of that famous chamber of justice at -Spires, to which all causes of contention and dispute were referred. -Years passed, it is true, before the scheme was acted upon, but when -once it was in full operation, it soon put an end to that almost -anarchical state of which some scenes have been displayed in the -foregoing pages. - -Little more remains to be told. The latter years of the Count of -Ehrenstein passed in peace; and, bowed with age, though scarcely -sensible of decay, he fell quietly asleep at a more advanced age than -is usually attained by men who have undergone such hardships, and -endured such privations. Old Seckendorf, too, with the flame burning -dimly over the lamp, passed far beyond man's allotted term. His body -submitted to all the ordinary processes of age; withered away from -that of the stout old knight to that of the decrepit and querulous old -man, sank into the lean and slippered pantaloon, and thence, through -life's last act, into the grave. His tombstone marks his age as 93; -but the truth of the record may be doubtful, for no one could ever -ascertain the precise year in which he was born. Bertha made a very -good and joyous wife, retaining just sufficient of the playful malice -of her youth to keep the waters of existence from stagnating; and -Ferdinand and Adelaide of Ehrenstein went on to the end with the same -bond of love between them which had encircled them in childhood, and -been knit fast in youth. In the lavish spirit of strong affection, he -had, as we have seen, made many a promise of enduring tenderness; but -his honour was very dear to him, and, had he even felt inclined to -break one of those dear engagements, he would have still held that a -promise to a woman is even more binding than to a man. But Adelaide -never had to remind him of one vow. Happily, her own high qualities, -her deep devotion to himself, her gentleness, and the strong moving -spirit of love which ruled her every action, deprived duty of all -honour in the unwavering performance of each assurance he had given. -Their hearts and their happiness shed their sunshine around them, and -as the old retainers dropped away, others supplied their place, and -inherit their veneration for their lord and lady. - -Thus passed the days of the earthly inhabitants of the castle of -Ehrenstein; its unearthly tenants disappeared with the return of the -old Count to reclaim his own. Gradually the tales of spirits and -apparitions became less frequent and more vague; but yet they have not -entirely faded away from tradition; and the peasant returning home -late at night, from market or fair, will pass the mouldering bridge -with some awe, and fancy that he sees shadowy shapes and giant forms, -when he looks up by moonlight to the crumbling walls and ruined towers -of Ehrenstein. - - - -THE END. - - --------------------------------- -PRINTED BY BERNH. 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P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James"> - -<meta name="Publisher" content="Bernhard Tauchnitz"> -<meta name="Date" content="1847"> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> -<style type="text/css"> -body {margin-left:10%; - margin-right:10%; background-color:#FFFFFF;} - - -p.normal {text-indent:.25in; text-align: justify;} -.center {margin: auto; text-align:center; margin-top:24pt; margin-bottom:24pt} - - -p.right {text-align:right; margin-right:20%;} - -p.continue {text-indent: 0in; margin-top:9pt;} -.text10 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:10%; margin-right:0px; font-size:90%;} -.text20 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:20%; margin-right:0px; font-size:90%;} - - -.poem0 { - margin-top: 24pt; margin-left: 0%; - margin-right: 0%; text-align: left; - margin-bottom: 24pt; font-size:90%} - -.poem1 { - margin-top: 24pt; margin-left: 2em; - margin-right: 10%; text-align: left; - margin-bottom: 24pt; font-size:90%} - -.poem2 { - margin-top: 24pt; margin-left: 20%; - margin-right: 20%; text-align: left; - margin-bottom: 24pt; font-size:90%} - -.poem3 { - margin-top: 24pt; margin-left: 30%; - margin-right: 30%; text-align: left; - margin-bottom: 24pt; font-size:90%} - - - - - -figcenter {margin:auto; text-align:center; margin-top:9pt;} - -.t0 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:0em; margin-right:0em;} -.t1 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:1em; margin-right:0em;} -.t2 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:2em; margin-right:0em;} -.t3 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:3em; margin-right:0em;} -.t4 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:4em; margin-right:0em;} -.t5 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:5em; margin-right:0em;} - - -.quote {text-indent:.25in; text-align: justify; font-size:90%; margin-top:36pt; margin-bottom:36pt} -.ctrquote {text-align: center; font-size:90%; margin-top:36pt; margin-bottom:36pt} - -.dateline {text-align:right; font-size:90%; margin-right:10%; margin-top:24pt; margin-bottom:24pt} - -h1,h2,h3,h4,h5 {text-align: center;} - -span.sc {font-variant: small-caps; font-size:110%;} -span.sc2 {font-variant: small-caps; font-size:90%;} - -hr.W10 {width:10%; color:black; margin-top:0pt; margin-bottom:0pt} - -hr.W20 {width:20%; color:black; margin-top:12pt; margin-bottom:12pt} - -hr.W50 {width:50%; color:black;} -hr.W90 {width:90%; color:black;} - -p.hang1 {margin-left:3em; text-indent:-3em;} -p.hang2 {margin-left:3em; text-indent:0em;} - - -</style> - -</head> - -<body> - - -<pre> - -Project Gutenberg's The Castle of Ehrenstein, by George Payne Rainsford James - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Castle of Ehrenstein - Its Lords Spiritual and Temporal; Its Inhabitants Earthly and Unearthly - -Author: George Payne Rainsford James - -Release Date: October 27, 2015 [EBook #50325] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CASTLE OF EHRENSTEIN *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (the Bavarian State Library) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Notes: -1. Page scan source:<br> -https://books.google.com/books?id=1vhLAAAAcAAJ<br> -(the Bavarian State Library)</p> - -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>COLLECTION</h4> - -<h5>OF</h5> - -<h3>BRITISH AUTHORS.</h3> - -<h4>VOL. CXV.</h4> - -<hr class="W20"> - -<h3>THE CASTLE OF EHRENSTEIN BY G. P. R. JAMES.</h3> - -<h5>IN ONE VOLUME.</h5> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>THE</h4> - -<h3>CASTLE OF EHRENSTEIN;</h3> - -<h5>ITS LORDS</h5> - -<h4>SPIRITUAL AND TEMPORAL;</h4> - -<h5>ITS INHABITANTS</h5> - -<h4>EARTHLY AND UNEARTHLY.</h4> - -<h5>BY</h5> - -<h3>G. P. R. JAMES.</h3> -<br> - - -<h4><i>COPYRIGHT EDITION FOR CONTINENTAL CIRCULATION</i>.</h4> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>LEIPZIG</h4> - -<h5>BERNH. TAUCHNITZ JUN.</h5> - -<h5>1847.</h5> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>EHRENSTEIN.</h3> - -<hr class="W10"> - -<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">It was an awfully dark and tempestuous night; the wind howled in fury -through the trees, and round the towers; the large drops of rain -dashed against the casements, the small lozenges of glass rattled and -clattered in their leaden frames, and the thick boards of the oaken -floor heaved and shivered under the force of the tempest. From time to -time a keen blue streak of lightning crossed the descending deluge, -and for an instant the great black masses of the forest, and the high -and broken rocks around, appeared like spectres of a gone-by world, -and sank into Egyptian darkness again, almost as soon as seen; and -then the roar of the thunder was added to the scream of the blast, -seeming to shake the whole building to its foundation.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the midst of this storm, and towards one o'clock in the morning, a -young man, of about one-and-twenty years of age, took his way -silently, and with a stealthy step, through the large old halls and -long passages of the castle of Ehrenstein. His dress was that of one -moving in the higher ranks of society, but poor for his class; and -though the times were unusually peaceful, he wore a heavy sword by his -side, and a poniard hanging by a ring from his girdle. Gracefully yet -powerfully formed, his frame afforded the promise of great future -strength, and his face, frank and handsome without being strictly -beautiful, owed perhaps more to the expression than to the features. -He carried a small brazen lamp in his hand, and seemed bound upon some -grave and important errand, for his countenance was serious and -thoughtful, his eyes generally bent down, and his step quick, -although, as we have said, light and cautious.</p> - -<p class="normal">The room that he quitted was high up in the building, and, descending -by a narrow and steep staircase, formed of large square blocks of oak, -with nothing but a rope to steady the steps, he entered a long wide -corridor below, flanked on one side by tall windows like those of a -church, and on the other by numerous small doors. The darkness was so -profound that, at first, the rays of the lamp only served to dissipate -the obscurity immediately around it, while the rest of the corridor -beyond looked like the mouth of a yawning interminable vault, filled -with gloom and shadows. The next moment, however, as he advanced, a -blazing sheet of electric flame glanced over the windows, displaying -their long line upon the right, and the whole interior of the -corridor. Here and there an old suit of armour caught the light, and -the grotesque figures on two large antique stone benches seemed to -grin and gibber in the flame. Still the young man walked on, pausing -only for one moment at a door on the left, and looking up at it with a -smile somewhat melancholy.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the end of the corridor, on the left, he came to a larger staircase -than that which he had before descended, and going cautiously down, -and through some other passages, he found himself in a small -vestibule, with two doors on either hand. They were of various -dimensions, but all studded with large nails, and secured by thick -bands of iron; and turning to the largest of the four, he quietly -lifted the latch, and pushed it open. The wind, as he did so, had -nearly blown out the lamp, and in suddenly shading it with his hand, -he let slip the ponderous mass of woodwork, which was blown back -against its lintels with a dull clang, which echoed far away through -the vaulted passages of the castle.</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man paused and listened, apparently fearful that his -proceedings might be noticed; but then, as all was silent till a loud -peal of thunder again shook the ear of night, he opened the door once -more, carefully shading the lamp with his cloak. Then, closing the -door gently behind him, he turned a large key that was in the lock, -seemingly to ensure that he should not be followed. He was now in a -vast old hall, which seemed to have been long unused, for there were -manifold green stains upon the stone pavement, no customary rushes -strewed the floor, no benches stood at the sides, and the table, at -which many a merry meal had passed, was no longer to be seen. A number -of torn and dusty banners and pennons, on the lances which had borne -them to the field, waved overhead, as the wind, which found its way -through many a broken lozenge in the casements, played amongst these -shreds of departed glories. A whispering sound came from them -likewise, and to an imaginative mind like that of the youth who walked -on beneath them, some of the rustling banners seemed to ask, "Whither, -whither?" and others to answer, "To dust, to dust."</p> - -<p class="normal">In the middle of the hall he paused and thought. A degree of -hesitation appeared to come over him; and then, murmuring "It must be -all nonsense; but, true or not, I have promised, and I will go," he -walked forward to another door at the far end of the hall, much -smaller than that by which he had entered. Apparently, it had not been -opened for a long time, as a pile of dust lay thick, against it. There -was no key in the lock, and it seemed fastened from the other side. -After pushing it, however, to see if it would give way, the young man -drew forth a key, saying to himself, "Perhaps this opens all," and -applying it, after some examination of the key-hole, he turned it, and -threw back the door. Then holding up the lamp ere he entered, he gazed -into the space before him. It was a low narrow passage in the -stone-work, with no windows, or even loopholes, perceptible; but yet -the damp found its way in, for the walls were glistening all over with -unwholesome slime. The pavement, too, if pavement indeed there was at -all, was covered thickly with a coating of black mould, from which, -every here and there, sprang up a crop of pale sickly fungi covered -with noxious dew, spreading a sort of faint, unpleasant, odour around.</p> - -<p class="normal">So foul, and damp, and gloomy looked the place, that it evidently -required an effort of resolution on the young man's part to enter; but -after pausing for a moment he did so, and closed and locked the door -behind him; then turning round, he looked on, still holding up the -lamp, as if he expected to see some fearful object in the way: all was -vacant, however, and as the faint rays of light dispersed the -darkness, he could perceive another door at the end of the passage, -some twenty yards in advance. It, when he reached it, was found -unfastened, and on drawing it back--for it opened inwards--the top of -a flight of stone steps was before him, descending, apparently, into a -well.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was no faint heart that beat within his bosom, but those were days -in which existed a belief almost universal in things which our more -material times reject as visionary; or which, at least, are only -credited by a few, who can see no reason why, in the scheme of -creation, there should not be means of communication between the -spiritual and the corporeal, or why the bond of mortal life once -dissolved, the immortal tenant of the fleshly body should not still -feel some interest in the things of earth, amongst which it moved so -long, and have the power and the permission to make its presence felt -for warning and for guidance. It is very different to feel an awe and -a dread in any undertaking, and to shrink from executing it. The young -man did feel awe, for he was going in solitude and the midst of night -into places where mortal foot rarely trod, where every association and -every object was connected with dark and dreary memories, and with -still more gloomy anticipations--the memorials of the dead, the -mouldering ruins of fellow-men, the records of the tomb, the picture -of all that warm existence comes to in the end. He stopped for a -moment there, and gazed down into the dark void below, but the next -instant, with a slow and careful foot upon the wet and slippery steps, -he began the descent. The air, which was sultry above, felt cold and -chilling as he descended, and the lamp burned dim, with a diminished -flame, from the impure vapours that seemed congregated in the place. -Each step, too, produced a hollow echo, ringing round, and decreasing -gradually in sound, both above and below, till it seemed as if voices -were whispering behind him and before him. Twice he paused to listen, -scarcely able to persuade himself that he did not hear tongues -speaking, but as he stopped the sound ceased, and again he proceeded -on his way. The square cut stones forming the shaft in which the -staircase turned, with the jointing only more clearly discernible from -the mortar having dropped out, soon gave way to the more solid masonry -of nature, and the rude rock, roughly hewn, was all that was left -around him, with the stairs still descending in the midst. A hundred -and seventeen steps, some of them perilous from decay, brought him, at -length, to the termination, with a door ajar at the foot. All was -darkness beyond, and though there seemed a freer air as he pulled the -door back, and the lamp burned up somewhat more clearly, yet the vast -gloomy expanse before him lost scarcely a particle of its gloom, as he -advanced with a beating heart, bearing the light in his hand. He was -unconscious of touching the door as he passed, but the moment he had -entered it swung slowly to, and a solemn clang echoed through the -vault.</p> - -<p class="normal">Laying his left hand on his dagger, he turned suddenly, and looked -behind him, but there was no one there, and he saw nothing but the -heavy stone walls and low groined arches, which seemed spreading out -interminably on either side. The next moment a bat fluttered across, -and swept his face with its cold dewy wing, nearly extinguishing the -lamp as it passed; and then, as he took a few steps forward, a low -voice asked, "Who is he?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who? who?" several other voices seemed to say; and then another -cried, "Hush!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man caught the lamp in his left hand, and half drew his -sword with his right, demanding aloud, "Who spoke?" There was no reply -but the echo of his own voice amidst the arches; and holding the lamp -before him, he turned to the side from which the first question seemed -to proceed, and thought he saw a figure standing in the dim obscurity, -at a few paces distance. "Who are you?" he cried, stepping forward, -but there the figure stood, grew more defined as the rays fell upon -it, and the eyeless grinning head, and long mouldy bones of a skeleton -appeared, bound with a rusty chain to a thick column. Instinctively he -started back, when he first discovered what the object was, and as he -did so, a low, wild, echoing laugh rang round through the arches on -every side, as if mocking the horror which his countenance expressed. -Nothing showed itself, however, and, ashamed of his own sensations, he -drew his sword out of the sheath, and walked quickly on. His path soon -became encumbered, and first he stumbled over a slimy skull, then trod -upon some bones that cranched under his feet, while strange -whisperings seemed to spread around him, till, with no light joy, he -saw the farther wall of the vault, with an open arch leading out into -some place beyond. When he had passed it, however, the scene was no -less sad and gloomy, for he seemed now in a vast building like a -chapel, where, ranged on either hand, were sepulchral monuments -covered with dust, and between them long piles of mouldering coffins, -with overhead a banner here and there, gauntlets, and swords, and -tattered surcoats, the hues of which could scarcely be distinguished -through the deep stains and mildew that covered them. Here frowned the -figure of a warrior in black marble, there lay another hewn in plain -stone; here stood a pile of coffins, with the velvet which once -covered them, and the gold with which they were fringed, all -mouldering in shreds, and offering a stern comment on the grossest of -human vanities, that tries to deck the grave with splendour, and -serves up the banquet of the worm in tinsel. When he had half passed -along the solemn avenue, he thought he heard a sound behind, and -turned to look, but there was nothing near except three small coffins -and the marble effigy of a lady kneeling in the attitude of prayer. -When he turned round again, a sudden light, blue and pale, like that -of the unconfirmed dawn, shone through the long arcades, wavered and -flickered round, as if moving from place to place, though whence it -proceeded he could not see; but as he strode on, it served to show him -a large snake, that darted from under the crumbling base of one of the -monuments, and glided on along the path before him, as if guiding him -on his way.</p> - -<p class="normal">"By Heaven! this is all very strange and horrible," he exclaimed, and -instantly there was a wild "whoop," coming from several parts of the -chapel. The pale light that shone around was extinguished, and nought -remained but the dim lamp in his own hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">He would not be turned back, however, but hurried only the more -quickly forward till he reached a door at the opposite side. It was -bolted within, but not locked; and pulling back the iron bar from the -staple, he rushed out, the strong gust of the night air and the -pattering drops of rain instantly extinguishing the lamp. A shrill -scream met his ear as the door swung to behind him; but nevertheless -he paused, and put his hand to his brow, with sensations in his bosom -which he had never felt before, and which he was ashamed to feel.</p> - -<p class="normal">While he thus stood a fierce flash of lightning blazed around, -dazzling his eyes for a moment, but serving to show him the exact -point of the rocky hill which he had now reached, and a path winding -on down the woody descent, narrow, rough, and stony, looking more as -if it had been traced by some torrent pouring down the side of the -slope, than by the foot of man. Along it he turned his steps, guided -by the trees and bushes, which rendered it impossible that he should -miss his way, till, nearly at the bottom of the hill, a faint light -shone before him from the window of what appeared a little chapel.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The good priest is watching for me," the young man said to himself; -and hurrying on he gained a small projecting point of the rock which -stood out clear from amongst the trees. Like many another jagged -fragment of crag in that wild country, it towered up above the -surrounding objects like a ruined outwork of the castle above, and -when he had climbed to the summit, the young wanderer turned to gaze -up at the building he had just left. All was dark and gloomy; not a -ray broke from window or loophole, except at one spot where a blaze -shone forth upon the night high up in the sky, shining red and hazy -through the tempestuous air, like some star of evil omen. But the -youth heeded not that light; he knew well that it was the beacon on -the highest pinnacle of the donjon, beside which, under shelter of the -watch-tower's roof, the weary sentinel was striving to keep himself -awake, perhaps in vain. The rest was all as obscure as the world -beyond the tomb, and satisfied that his going had not been marked, he -hurried on to the little chapel or hermitage, and lifted the latch.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The interior of the building into which the young man now entered, -afforded a strange contrast to the wild and fearful scenes through -which he had just passed. It was like life and death side by side--the -world and the grave; and the change struck him as much, or perhaps -more, than if the particulars had been reversed. It was a little cell, -dependent upon the neighbouring monastery, with a chapel attached to -it, dedicated to Our Lady; but the room into which the door -immediately led was one of the two dwelling-chambers of the priests, -who came up there in weekly turn to officiate at the chapel. It was -low-roofed and small; but, nevertheless, it had an air of comfort and -cheerfulness about it; and the large well-trimmed lamp showed the -whole extent, and left not one corner in obscurity. A little table -stood in the midst, with the good priest seated at it: a book open -before him, and another closed at his side; but besides these objects -of study or devotion, the table bore several things connected with our -corporeal comfort, which showed that at all events the chapel was not -a hermitage. There was a well-roasted capon, and two or three rolls or -small loaves of white bread--a rarity in that part of the country, and -at that time; and besides these, there appeared two or three neat -glasses with twisted stalks, and a capacious green bottle, large in -the bulb, flattened at the sides, and with a neck towering like a -minaret. It was a very promising vessel indeed, for its peculiar -shape, form, and thickness, were too expensive to be in general -bestowed upon bad wine; and the monks were supposed in those days, as -at present, to be very accurate judges of what was really good.</p> - -<p class="normal">Amongst the most cheerful things in the place, however, was the -countenance of the priest himself. He was a man of somewhat more than -sixty years of age, but fresh, firm, and unbroken, with a complexion -which, originally fair and smooth, seemed only to have grown fairer -and more smooth with years; and though the untonsured part of his hair -was as white as driven snow, his blue eye was as clear and bright as -in youth. His features were high and somewhat aquiline; his eyebrows -long and white; but that which denoted age more than aught else, was -the falling in of the lips by the sad ravages of time upon those -incessant plagues of life--the teeth. His countenance was a cheerful -and contented one; not without lines of thought, and perhaps of care; -but to the eye of one accustomed to read the character upon the face, -the expression would have indicated a temperament and disposition -naturally easy and good-humoured, without any want of mental energy -and activity.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! Ferdinand," he said, as soon as he beheld his visitor, "you have -kept me long, my son, but that matters not--it is a terrible night, -and the way somewhat troublesome to find. But, all good angels! what -makes you look so pale, boy? Yours is not a cheek to turn white at a -flash of lightning. Sit down, sit down, my son, and refresh yourself. -See, I have provided for your entertainment."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The way is a terrible one, good Father," replied the young man, -seating himself, and resting his arm upon the table, "and it is one I -will never tread willingly again, unless it be to return home this -night, though that I would not do, if there were any way of avoiding -it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, how now, how now?" asked the priest. "Never let it be said that -you have been frightened by a score of old monuments, and a few dry -bones."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's not all, good Father, that's not all," answered the young man; -and he proceeded to relate, in a low voice, all that he had heard and -seen as he came thither.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Phantasms of the imagination!" exclaimed the priest. "Voices in the -serfs burying-place! lights in the chapel vaults! No, no, good youth, -such things are quite impossible; these are but tales of the castle -hall, told in the winter's evening round the fire, which have so -filled your imagination that you realize them to yourself in a dark, -stormy night, and a gloomy place. I have gone up there a hundred -times, by night and day, and never yet saw aught but old crumbling -stones and mouldy arches, and fleshless bones here and there; things -fitted, surely, to produce solemn thoughts of the mortality of man's -frame, of the vanity of all his works, and the emptiness of his glory, -but not to fill your head with fancies such as these."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, Father, I tell you I heard the voices as distinctly as I hear -you speak," the youth rejoined, in a half angry tone; "that I saw the -light as plainly as I see this before me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A flash of lightning," replied the priest.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," answered his companion, "I never saw a flash of lightning -that lasted uninterrupted, calm, and quiet, for five minutes, nor you -either, Father; nor did I ever hear the thunder ask, 'Who is he?' nor -laugh and hoot like a devil. I would not have believed it myself, had -I not had eyes and ears to witness; and so I cannot blame you for -doubting it. I never was a believer in ghosts or phantoms, or spirits -visiting the earth, till now. I thought them but old women's tales, as -you do."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay," exclaimed the priest, eagerly, "I did not say that;" and -he fell into a deep fit of thought before he proceeded farther. At -length he continued, in a grave tone, saying, "You must not suppose, -Ferdinand, that I doubt, in any degree, that spirits are at times -permitted to visit or revisit this world. We have the warrant of -Scripture for it, and many facts of the kind are testified by fathers -of the church, and holy men, whom it would be a sin to suspect of -falsehood, and a presumption to accuse of foolishness. But I do think -that in thousands of instances where such apparitions are supposed to -have taken place, especially in the present day, there is much more -either of folly or deception than of truth. In this case, although I -have heard the women, and some of the boors, declare that they have -seen strange sights about the castle, I have always fancied the report -mere nonsense, as I never beheld anything of the kind myself; but -there certainly was something odd and unaccountable in the Graf -suddenly shutting up the great hall where his brother used always to -feast with his retainers; and people did say that he had seen a sight -there which had made him dread to enter it again; yet I have passed -through the vaults and the hall, many a time since, without ever -beholding aught to scare me.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But take some food, my son, aye, and some wine too,--it will refresh -and revive you."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man did not object, for, to say truth, he much needed -refreshment, the agitation of the mind being always much more -exhausting than mere corporeal fatigue. The good priest joined in his -supper with moderation, but with evident satisfaction; for, alas that -it should be so! yet, nevertheless, it is a fact, that as we advance -in life, losing pleasure after pleasure, discovering the delusions of -the imagination, which are mixed up with so many of our joys, and the -deceitful character of not a few even of our intellectual delights, -there is a strong tendency to repose upon the scanty remnant of mere -material gratifications that are left to us by the infirmities of the -body. He helped himself and his guest to a glass of the good wine, -took another without hesitation, and then insisted upon Ferdinand -replenishing his glass, and, encouraging him to do so, bore him -company. The young man's spirits rose; the scenes he had just passed -through were partially forgotten, and the feelings and impressions -which he had felt before he set out, and which, indeed, had brought -him thither, once more became predominant. Finishing his meal, he -wiped his dagger, and thrust it back into the sheath; and then turning -to the monk, he said, "Well, good Father George, I have come at your -bidding, and would come further to please you, though I know not well -what you want, even if I suspect a little. There was nothing very -wrong, though I saw you gave me a frown."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never thought there was anything wrong, my son," replied the -priest, gravely. "I saw the lady's hand in yours, it is true. I saw -her eyes turned up to yours, with a very beaming look. I saw yours -bent down on her, as if your knee would have soon bent also, but I -never thought there was anything wrong--of course not."</p> - -<p class="normal">His tone was perfectly serious; but whether it was conscience, or a -knowledge that Father George did not altogether dislike a jest, even -upon grave matters, Ferdinand could not help suspecting that his -companion spoke ironically. He did not feel quite sure of it, however, -and after considering for a moment, he replied, "Well, whatever you -may think, Father, it was all very simple. Her horse had fallen with -her in the morning; I had not seen her since I had aided to raise her, -and I was only asking how she had fared after the accident."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nothing more, I doubt not," replied the priest, in the same tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"On my life, on my honour!" exclaimed the young man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And yet you love her, and she loves you, Ferdinand," rejoined Father -George, with a quiet smile. "Deny it not, my boy, for it is a fact."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well," answered the youth, with a glowing cheek, "it may be true that -I love her, but I love without hope, and I do trust--though perhaps -you may not believe me when I say so--I do trust that she does not -love me, for I would not, for my right hand, that she should ever know -the bitterness of such hopeless passion."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But why hopeless?" demanded the priest, and paused for an answer.</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man gazed upon him in surprise, almost amounting to -irritation; for deep feeling, except when it is so intense as to lose -all sense of external things, will not bear to be trifled with, and he -thought the old man was jesting with his passion.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why hopeless!" he exclaimed at length. "By difference of station, by -difference of wealth, by all the cold respects and icy mandates of the -world. Who am I, Father, that I should dare to lift my eyes to the -daughter of a high and mighty lord like this! Noble I may be--you have -told me so--but--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"As noble as herself," replied the priest. "Nay, if blood be all, -higher in station. True, fortune has not befriended you, but that same -goddess was ever a fickle and capricious dame, and those she raises -high one day she sinks low the next, to lift up others in their stead. -How many a mighty lord has been pulled from his chair of state, to end -his days in dungeons. We have heard of emperors confined to a poor -cell, and of princes and heroes begging their bread. The time may -come, boy, when upon your arm may hang the fortunes of that lady's -house, when to you she may cling for protection and support; and the -sun that now shines for her father, may shine for you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand shook his head with a desponding smile, as if it were nigh a -mockery to talk of such things. "Whence should those golden days come, -Father?" he asked. "Even opportunity, the great touchstone of the -heart and mind, the gate of all success, the pathway of ambition, -love, and hope, is closed and barred to me. But yesterday--it seems -but yesterday I was her father's page; and a day earlier, a boy -running through the abbey grounds, under your kind care and good -instruction--the object of your bounty, of your charity, I do -believe--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, not so," exclaimed the priest, quickly; "you had your little -store of wealth when you fell to my charge, Ferdinand. I have doled it -out as I thought best in your nurture and education, but I have still -some remaining, which I have invested for you in land near the abbey, -and am ready to account for all. But still, even if all were as you -say, I see not why you should be in so hopeless a mood; all ladies may -be won, all difficulties overcome. There is a chance given to every -man in life, his be the fault if he do not seize it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The distance is too far, Father," answered the young man. "I have -often, when I was a boy, stood and looked at the sun rising through -the clouds, and when a bright, broad ray has travelled forth like a -pall laid for some emperor's tread, stretching from the golden canopy -hung over the ascending monarch of the day, and reaching well nigh to -my feet, I have almost thought that I could tread upon it, and wend my -way to heaven. But such fancies have passed now, Father; such suns no -longer shine for me; and in the broad, harsh noonday of manhood, I -dream such dreams no more."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you dream others no less bright, Ferdinand," replied the priest. -"Visions of triumph in the field, and mighty deeds, and great renown, -and service to the State, and beauty's smile; fame, happiness, and -joy, float even now before your eyes, and those visions may prove -true. Did I want proof that such things still are busy in your heart, -your very gay and flowery words would show them to me. I am the last -to bid you banish them, my son; when well directed and kept within -reasonable bounds, they are often the harbingers of great success."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But who shall direct them for me?" asked his young companion, who had -heard encouragement so little expected with evident marks of surprise; -"who shall fix the bounds to be called reasonable? To me most of those -dreams seem foolish, especially that which is sweetest."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will direct, if you will let me," answered the priest. "I will fix -the bounds; and to begin, I tell you that the hope you fancy the most -visionary is the least so. But leave the matter to me, my dear -Ferdinand; follow my counsel, and Adelaide shall be yours, and that -speedily."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, Father!" exclaimed the young man, stretching forth his hand, and -grasping that of the priest, "do not--do not, I beseech, you, raise in -me such hopes, if there be a probability of their failure."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is none," replied Father George. "Pursue the course before you -boldly; seek her resolutely, though calmly and secretly; tell her of -your love; win her confidence, gain whatever ascendency you can over -her mind, and leave all the rest to me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, Father, what will be said of my honour, when all is discovered, -as it must be?" rejoined the young man. "What torrents of reproach -will fall upon me,--what disgrace, what indignity, will not be heaped -upon me! Danger I do not fear, death itself I would encounter, but for -the chance of possessing her; but shame--I cannot bear shame, Father."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Think you, my son," asked the priest, somewhat sternly, "that I would -counsel you to anything that is disgraceful? I only advise you to -caution and secrecy, because you would meet with opposition in the -outset. Have no fear, however, as to the result. I will justify you -fully. I have told you that you are her equal in birth, if not at -present in wealth; that you have a right to seek her hand; nay, more, -that if your heart goes with it, it is expedient both for you and her -that you should do so."</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is all a mystery to me," replied the young man, thoughtfully.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay," answered the priest; "but there are many mysteries in this life, -which it is well not to scan. However, if there be blame, your blame -be upon me. Still, it is right that you should be able to show that -you have not yielded to mere passion; and before you go, I will give -you, under my hand, authority for what you do, for you must neither -doubt nor hesitate."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not hesitate, Father," said Ferdinand, with a smile. "Heaven -knows that my heart prompts me only too eagerly to follow such -pleasant counsel. I will go on, then; but you must be ever ready to -advise and assist me; for, remember, I am working in the dark, and may -need aid and direction in a thousand difficult circumstances, which -neither I nor you foresee."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Advice shall be ever at your command," answered Father George, "and -aid, stronger and better than perhaps you expect; only pursue -implicitly the course I point out, and I will be answerable for the -end. Now let us talk of other things. How goes the party at the -castle--well and cheerfully?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay," replied the young man, "never very cheerful, good Father. The -Count,<a name="div4Ref_01" href="#div4_01"><sup>[1]</sup></a> you know, is not of a merry disposition."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, indeed," said the priest, "he never was so, even from a youth; a -dark, stern heart throws its shadow far around, as a bright and -benevolent one casts light on everything. He's a very different man -from his brother, the last Count, who was cheerfulness itself, full of -gay jest and merry happiness, looking lightly and mirthfully upon all -indifferent things, yet not without due reverence and feeling for the -essential duties of a Catholic Christian and a man. Ah, those were -merry days at the old castle, then. The board was always well filled -in the great hall; good meat, good wine, gay guests, and pleasant -talk--in which the noble lord himself still led others on to enjoy, -and seemed to find a pleasure in their pleasure--those were things -always to be found where there is now nothing but gloom, and state, -and cold service. There were no ghosts then, Ferdinand; no spirits but -cheerful ones haunted hall or bower;"--and the old man fell into a fit -of thought, seeming to ponder pleasantly upon the times past, though -they might contrast themselves in his mind with the darker aspect of -the present.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand also remained thoughtful for several minutes, but then rose, -saying, "I must be wending my way homeward, Father, though I doubt I -shall hardly find it, as I have now no lamp, and those vaults are -intricate."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay a while, stay a while," answered Father George, "the storm will -not last long, and I will go with you. No spirits will show themselves -in my presence, I am sure."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I fear them not now," replied Ferdinand; "such hopes as you have -given me to-night, Father, will be a spell to lay them."</p> - -<p class="normal">The old man smiled, well knowing that, notwithstanding the boast, his -young companion would not at all object to his company; but he merely -replied, "I will take my lantern, youth; for without a light you might -lose yourself in the caves, as some have done before you. Look out, -and see how the sky appears. The thunder has ceased, I think."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man opened the door, and took a step forth, and then -returning, said, "It lightens still, but faintly; and it rains a -little. It will soon be over though, I think;" and seating himself -again, he spent about half an hour more in conversation with the -priest. At the end of that time, the rain having ceased, they set out -together for the castle, while the faint flashes of the electric -fluid, with which the air was still loaded, gleamed over the sky from -time to time, and a distant roar to the westward told that the storm -was visiting other lands. It was a toilsome journey up the steep -ascent, rendered slippery by the wet, for a man of Father George's -years, but he bore up stoutly, and at length they reached the entrance -of the crypt below the chapel. Pushing the door open boldly, the old -man went in, and advancing some twenty or thirty steps, held up the -lantern and looked round. Nothing was to be seen, however, and no -sound but the fall of their own footsteps reached the ear of either of -the two wanderers, as they pursued their way through the chapel-vaults -and the excavations in the rock against which the building was raised. -In the midst of what was called the Serfs' Burying-place, however, -close by the spot where the skeleton was chained to the column, Father -George paused, and gazed for an instant at the sad sight which it -presented. "Ah, poor fellow!" he said, "they bound him there, and -strangled him against the pillar, for murdering his master, the last -Count, when fighting far away; but to the last he declared, that -whatever hand had done it, it was not his act--and I believed him, for -he loved the Count well, and the Count loved him. 'Tis twenty years -ago, and yet see how the bones hold together. Come on, my son; I will -see you to the hall door, and then leave you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand, who was not at all partial to a prolonged stay in the -vaults, readily followed, and when they reached the little door that -led into the hall, the good priest remarked, with a quiet smile, "We -have seen no ghosts, my son, nor heard them either."</p> - -<p class="normal">"True, Father, true," replied the young man; "but those who have heard -and seen must believe. I trust that you may pass back as unmolested as -we came."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear not, Ferdinand," answered Father George; "and what is more, -you must also shake off all apprehensions; for in order to win her you -love, you may have often to tread these same paths."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If there were a devil in every niche, Father," replied Ferdinand, "I -would face them all for her sake."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well, good night," said the priest, shaking his head: "love is -the religion of a young man, and if it lead him not to wrong, it may -lead him to things higher than itself. Keep the key as a treasure, -good youth, for it may prove one to you in case of need."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, the old man suffered him to light his lamp at the -lantern, which was not done without difficulty, as the drops of rain -had somewhat wetted the wick; and ere Ferdinand had reached the -opposite end of the hall, after leaving the priest, his light was -extinguished again, and he had to feel his way to his own chamber, -along the dark corridors and staircases of the building. He was wet -and tired, but he felt no inclination to sleep, even though darkness -continued for more than one hour after he had returned to the castle. -There was a brighter light in his heart than that of morning, and in -it the new-born hopes sported like gay children at their play. The -hour passed away; and having cast off his wet garments, the youth lay -down for a few minutes on the bed, but half dressed, thinking--"I will -sleep if I can; for it is better they should accuse me of late rising -than see from my pillow that it has not been pressed all night." But -sleep, like all the pleasant things of life, will not come for much -seeking. In vain he shut his eyes; the grey light of dawn found its -way between the lashes, sounds were heard in the castle, showing that -some of the inferior attendants had risen; and the night watch was -relieved under the window of the tower in which he slept. A moment -after, however, came another noise; a distant horn sounded, there was -a cry of dogs borne from a distance on the air; and with all the quick -temerity of aristocratic blood in regard to the sports of the field, -the youth started up on his couch and listened. Again the deep -melodious music of hound and horn was heard, and bounding from his -bed, he threw open the casement and called to the guard, asking--"Is -the Count abroad?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The answer was in the negative, and throwing on hastily the rest of -his dry clothes, the youth rushed out as if to combat an enemy.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The morning rose bright and beautiful after the storm, shining down -the valley, glittering on the stream, and illuminating the castle. -High on its rock, from the base of which, steep and rugged as it was, -stretched forth about a mile of more gradual descent, broken and -undulating, thickly covered with trees, and here and there presenting -a large mass of fallen stone, looking like the wall of some outwork, -decayed by time, and garmented with moss. The whole surface on the -summit of the hill was crowned with walls and towers, and such was the -commanding situation which they occupied, that in days when the -science of warfare, though often practised, was but little known, it -might well seem a hopeless task to attempt to take that castle by any -means but famine. On a lower point, or what may be called a step in -the rock, appeared a very beautiful and graceful building, the lower -part of which displayed strong masonry, and manifold round arches -filled up with stone; while in the upper, the lighter architecture of -a later period was seen, in thin buttresses and tall pointed windows, -pinnacles, and mouldings, and fretwork. Built against the steep side -of the cliff below the castle, there seemed at first sight no path to -this chapel but from the fortress above, with which it was connected -by a few steps, flanked by a low square tower; but to the eye of a -traveller, riding or walking along the ridge of hills on the opposite -side of the valley, glimpses of a path displayed themselves, winding -in and out amongst the wood; and somewhat more than half-way down the -hill appeared a small edifice, in the same style of architecture as -the upper story of the castle-chapel.</p> - -<p class="normal">On that opposite ridge of hills was another stronghold, or rather what -had been so, for at the time I speak of, it was already in ruins;--and -down below, on either hand, swept an ocean of green boughs, covering -the declivities of the hills, and leaving a narrow track of little -more than half a mile in breadth for verdant meadows, hamlets, and a -small but beautiful stream. Following the course of the little river, -the eye rested, at about two miles distance, upon the towers and -pinnacles of a large building, half concealed in wood; and from the -walls thereof, at the hours appointed for the various services of the -Roman Catholic Church, might be heard the great bell of the abbey, -swinging slow upon the breeze the call to prayer.</p> - -<p class="normal">Beyond the abbey and the woods that surrounded it, a world of hill and -valley was descried, with rocks tossed in wild confusion here and -there, taking every different variety of form--now like a giant -sitting on the side of a hill, now like the ruined wall of some old -fortress, now like a column raised to commemorate some great event, -now like the crest of a warrior's helmet, plumed with feathery trees; -they offered to imagination infinite materials for the sport of fancy. -All the hollows, too, except those directly facing the east, were -filled with mists and shadows, while the tops of the mountains, the -higher crags, the old ruins, and the steeple of a distant church, rose -as if from the bosom of a dim and gloomy ocean.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He!" exclaimed the young man; "who is he, boor--do you know him? Who -is it dares to hunt in our lord's lands? If I caught him, he should -pay dearly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, Master Ferdinand of Altenburg, he is one who would make you pay -more likely; but, luckily for you, you can neither cross nor catch -him--it was the Black Huntsman and his train. We saw him with our own -eyes, and you may go back and tell the Count to prepare for war. -Twelve months will not pass from this day before there are armies -warring here. Tell him that old Werner says so; and I have lived years -enough to know what I am talking about."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The Black Huntsman!" exclaimed Ferdinand, holding in his horse, which -was struggling forward. "And did you see him, say you--both of you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, both of us," answered the old man. "And he shook his fist at -Wettstein here, just because he looked at him a little too sharply."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The Black Huntsman!" cried Ferdinand, again. "I never before knew any -one who saw him. What was he like, Werner?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He seemed to me ten foot high!" exclaimed Wettstein, joining in; "and -his horse big enough to bear him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay, not ten foot," cried Werner; "eight he might be, or eight -and a half--and all in black from head to heel. I did not see a white -spot about him, or his horse either. Did yon, Wettstein?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not a freckle as big as a pea," replied his comrade.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here's a mighty great horse's footmark, to be sure," said one of the -soldiers, who had dismounted, and was examining the ground. "I think, -Sir, you had better go back and tell our lord, for he'll be glad to -know of this."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man mused without reply for a moment or two, and then -turning his horse, rode back towards the castle, halting from time to -time to listen for the sounds of the hunt. All had now ceased, -however; the valley had returned to its stillness, and nothing but the -breeze sighing through the trees was heard, as Ferdinand and his -followers rode up the opposite hill.</p> - -<p class="normal">A number of men were collected under the arched gateway of the castle, -and several horses stood ready saddled near, but before them all -appeared a tall, dark-looking personage, somewhat past the middle age, -but still in full vigour, with a stern and somewhat forbidding -countenance. The expression was sharp, but not lofty, morose rather -than firm, and as Ferdinand rode up and sprang to the ground, he -exclaimed, "Ha, who are they, boy? Or have you turned back from -laziness or fear, without having found them?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand's cheek grew red, and he replied, "If I had been fearful or -lazy, my lord, I should have waited for orders ere I went to seek -them; but when we reached the road leading to Lindenau, the sounds -were scarcely to be heard, and we met Werner and Wettstein in the -wood, who told us that it was the Black Huntsman."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, ay," exclaimed the Count, moodily; "doubtless the Black Huntsman. -There is never a cry of hounds across the land, but, if you believe -the peasants, it is the Black Huntsman. They are in league with the -robbers of my deer and boars. The swine-fed rascals have their share, -no doubt."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, my lord Count," replied one of the soldiers who had accompanied -Ferdinand, "this time the men saw him, and he shook his fist at -Wettstein for daring to look at him too close. Besides, old Werner is -not a man to lie about it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Werner and Wettstein!" said the Count, "who are they? We have a -hundred of such hogs in the valley."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They are men of the abbey, my good lord," replied Ferdinand; "and at -all events, they were both in the same story, and told it at once. One -of our men, too,--it was you, Karl, was it not?--saw the hoof-marks -much larger than the common size."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, that I did," replied the man; "as big as any two in the stable. -My lord can see them too, if he doubts it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will," replied the Count, sternly; and without more ado he turned -into the castle, leaving the rest to follow to the morning meal.</p> - -<p class="normal">Contrary to a very common practice of the day, when most of those who -were qualified to bear arms were considered fit to sit at the table of -their lords, the Count of Ehrenstein usually admitted none but two or -three of his chosen followers to take part in the meal at the same -board with himself and his daughter. The large hall, of which we have -already spoken, had been long disused, and a smaller one, fully large -enough, indeed, for the diminished number of retainers which the -castle now contained, was divided into two unequal parts by a step, -which raised the table of the lord above that of his vassals. It was -to this hall he now took his way, moving slowly onward with a heavy -step and eyes fixed upon the ground, till, opening the door, he gazed -round it for a moment, and his face lighted up with the first look of -pleasure it had displayed that day, as his eyes rested on a group at -the farther end of the chamber. From the midst of that group, with a -light bounding step, was even then coming forward to meet him, as -beautiful a form as was ever beheld, even by a father's eyes; and what -father in his heart has never said, when gazing on his child--</p> - -<p class="center">"Du nun als ein Engel schön?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Young she was, very young--in the first early bloom of youth, and -wonderfully fair--for no marble that was ever hewn by the most -fastidious sculptor's hands, was whiter, clearer, softer, than her -skin; and yet there was a glow of health therein, not seeming in the -skin itself, but shining through it, like the rosy light of morning -pouring into the pale sky. Her eyes could hardly be called blue, for -there was a shade of some other colour in them; but the long black -lashes, together with the strong contrast afforded by the fairness of -her face, made them look dark, though soft, till one approached her -very near. Her dark brown hair, too, full to profusion, looked almost -black where it fell upon her neck, notwithstanding the bright golden -gleams that shone upon the wavy clusters. Round, yet tapering, every -limb was moulded in the most beautiful symmetry, which even the long -line of floating garments from the hip to the heel shadowed without -concealing; and, as almost always happens, perfection of form produced -grace of movement, though that grace is in some degree dependent also -upon the spirit within, where it is natural and not acquired. Even in -the light, quick, bounding step with which she sprang to meet her -father, there was a world of beauty, though it was simply the -unstudied impulse of filial affection; and for an instant, as I have -said, the very sight of her bright countenance dispelled the gloom -upon her father's face, and brought a momentary gleam of sunshine over -it; but the grave, hard look soon returned, and taking her hand in -his, he led her on to the upper table, calling to him two of his old -ritters or knights, and seated them beside himself and his child.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand of Altenburg was about to take his place as usual at the -other board, not judging that he stood at all high in the graces of -his lord; but after a moment's consideration, the Count beckoned him -up, saying, "Sit there, Ferdinand," and then commenced the meal in -silence. Adelaide of Ehrenstein looked down, but yet a momentary light -shone in her eyes, and a well-pleased smile, before she could check -it, played round her lip; and then, as if afraid that the pleasure she -felt should be marked by too watchful eyes, the colour glowed warm in -her cheek, and even tinged her fair brow. Oh, those traitorous -blushes, how often they hang out the flag of surrender, when the -garrison would fain hold firm. The young lover saw the look, and -judged it rightly; but no one else seemed to remark it; and while he -was thinking what could be the Count's motive in thus honouring him, -his lord raised his eyes heavily, saying, "And do you really believe -this story of the Wild Huntsman, Ferdinand?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, my lord, I know not what to think," replied the youth. "The men -seemed so frightened themselves, and spoke so naturally, that I could -not doubt that they believed it. Nevertheless, if I could have heard -the sounds any more, I should have followed to see this Black Huntsman -with my own eyes, but the noise was by that time done."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Would you not have feared to meet him?" asked the Count, with a -smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not I, Sir," answered Ferdinand. "If I find any one hunting on my -lord's lands, I will stop him and ask his right, be he black or white. -But we could never catch the noise again and there was another reason, -too, that made me think it best to return; the old man, Werner, bade -me tell you there would be war within a year."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And so there will," replied the Count, "if it be truly the Black -Huntsman."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am glad to hear it," replied Ferdinand; "there will be some chance -of honour and distinction then."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count's brow grew dark. "Ay, foolish youth," he answered, "and -what sums of gold will have to be spent, what fair fields ruined, what -crops swept away!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"And what bloodshed!" said Adelaide, in a low tone. "Oh, my father, I -hope it will not be!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Bloodshed, that's but a small matter," replied her father, with a -grim smile. "It does good to these hot youths to bleed them. Is it not -so, Seckendorf?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, my lord," answered the old knight to whom he spoke; "and as to -the gold and the crops, that's no great matter either. Money must be -spent, soldiers must live; and it's a pleasant sight to see a troop of -bold fellows in a vineyard swilling the fat boor's grapes. I don't let -them burn the houses, unless there's resistance; for there's no good -in that, if the knaves give up their money and their food."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide was silent, but as she gazed down, with her beautiful eyes -full of deep thought, many a dark image of spoliation and cruelty -presented itself to fancy as approaching in the train of war. Her -father was silent too; for he knew that his somewhat unknightly love -of gold was not likely to raise him in the opinion of his followers; -but at length he said, "Well, then, we must prepare, at all events, -Seckendorf, if this be the Black Huntsman."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, that we must, my good lord," replied the old man. "He never comes -out without being sure of what he's about. I remember when I was in -the Odenwalde, with the lord of Erlach, looking at the book in which -is written down each time he has gone forth for these two hundred -years--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"And you couldn't read it if you did look," said the other knight, who -was at the same table.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, I know that," replied Seckendorf; "no one better; so I made the -sacristan read to me, and it never failed once, when that Black -Horseman went forth, or when the cry of his dogs was heard, that there -was war within a twelvemonth. But it is right to be sure that this was -he; for it would not do to sit here with the place cooped full of men, -fretting ourselves for a year, with the thought of a brave war coming, -and then for none to come after all. We should be obliged to have a -feud with some friend, just to give the men something to do."</p> - -<p class="normal">"True, true," answered the Count, with a quick assent; "that would not -do at all, Seckendorf. I will go after meat, and inquire more into the -affair."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You had better see the two men, my Lord Count," said Ferdinand. "I -will fetch them up from the abbey in an hour, and you can question -them yourself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, you will stay where you are, Sir," replied his lord, sharply; "I -can question them myself without your help. I will see these -hoof-marks too. But tell me more; from the sounds I heard as I hurried -from my bed, there must have been a whole host of followers with this -Black Huntsman. What said the man?"</p> - -<p class="normal">In return, Ferdinand gave as good an account as he could of all that -had occurred, though he had little to add to what he had told before. -He neither exaggerated nor coloured his narrative, but with the vice -of youth he indulged in many a figure to express his meaning, as was -indeed somewhat customary with him; drawing freely upon imagination -for the language, though not for the facts. This mode, however, of -telling his tale, did not altogether please his lord, upon whose brow -an impatient frown gathered fast. But Adelaide paid his flights of -fancy with a smile, and her father's anger was averted by a man coming -in hastily from the walls to announce that some one who seemed a -messenger was riding up at full speed towards the castle.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let him be brought in," replied the Count; and he added, with a -laugh, "perhaps this may be news of the Black Huntsman."</p> - -<p class="normal">Expectation is ever a silent mood; and the meal continued; even the -wine circulated without anything more being said, till at length a man -dirty with hard riding through a country still wet with the storm of -the preceding night, was brought in, with formal ceremony, by two of -the Count's attendants, and led to the table at which he sat. The -stranger seemed a simple messenger in the garb of peace, and in his -hand he bore one of the large folded letters of the day, inscribed -with innumerable titles then and still given to every German nobleman -of rank, and sealed with a broad seal of yellow wax.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who come you from?" demanded the Count, before he opened the letter -which the messenger presented.</p> - -<p class="normal">"From the high and mighty prince, Count Frederick of Leiningen," -replied the man; "who bade me bear this letter to the noble and -excellent lord, the Count of Ehrenstein, his old and valued friend, -and bring him back an answer speedily."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! where is the Count?" exclaimed the lord of Ehrenstein; "when came -he back? 'Tis many a year since we have met."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He stopped last night, noble Sir, at an abbey some ten miles beyond -Zweibrücken, and he will reach that place this day," replied the -messenger, answering only one of the Count's questions. "I pray you -read the letter and let me have my answer."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count cut the silk, and, unfolding the paper, read, while -Seckendorf commented in a low tone, with words of admiration, but with -something like a sneer upon his lip, at his lord's learning, which -enabled him to gather easily the contents of what seemed a somewhat -lengthy epistle.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, this is good news indeed!" exclaimed the Count, at length. -"First, that I should see again and embrace my old friend and comrade, -Count Frederick;" and he bowed his head, not ungracefully, to the -messenger. "Next, that your lord has, after so many years, collected -together some of my poor brother's wealth, which he went to cast away -with his life upon a foreign shore. It will come well, Seckendorf, if -the Black Huntsman make his promise of war good.--You, Sir, take some -refreshment, while I go to write the safe-conduct which your lord -requires. Then you shall spur on, as hastily as may be; for, if not, I -shall overtake you on the road. Tell the mighty Count, that I will not -answer his letter till I've held my old friend in my arms, and that he -shall see me at once at Zweibrücken ere two hours past noon." Thus -saying, he rose and left the hall, and while Seckendorf and the other -knight made the messenger sit down at the lower table, furnished him -with food and wine, and questioned him eagerly as to Count Frederick's -journey, and when he had returned from eastern lands, Ferdinand of -Altenburg leaned across the table, and spoke a few low words to -Adelaide of Ehrenstein, which made the colour come and go in her -cheek, as if some strong emotions were busy in her heart. Whatever he -said, indeed, was very brief, for he feared to draw the notice of -those around upon them both; and in a moment after he had ceased, the -Count returned, with a paper in his hand. The messenger would not wait -to finish his meal, but retired from the hall, remounted his horse, -and spurred on his way back.</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon as he was gone, the tables were cleared, and orders given for -instant preparation, that the Count might set out to meet his friend, -with all the state and display that befitted his station. Before he -went, he whispered to Seckendorf to bring up during his absence, all -the vassals from the neighbouring estates, to swell the number of -retainers in the castle, against the following day; to sweep the -country round of its poultry, eggs, and fruit--a pleasant mark of -paternal affection which the peasantry of that day not unfrequently -received from their lords; and to prepare everything for one of those -scenes of festivity which occasionally chequered the monotony of -feudal life in peaceful times.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand of Altenburg stood ready to accompany his lord, with his -horse saddled, and his gayest garment displayed, never doubting for a -moment that he was to form one of the train. No sooner, however, had -the Count done speaking to the old knight, than he turned towards the -youth, saying, sharply, "Did I not tell you that you were not to go? -You will stay and guard the castle while Seckendorf is absent, and go -no farther from it, till I return, than the stream on one side, or the -hamlet on the other."</p> - -<p class="normal">The tone was haughty and imperious; and Ferdinand felt his heart burn, -but he merely bowed, and took a step back; the Count, fancying that he -had mortified him by leaving him behind, and feeling that sort of -bitter pleasure which harsh men find in giving pain, though, in truth, -if he had sought to consult the youth's most anxious wishes, he would -have acted just as he did act. What was to Ferdinand, Count Frederick -of Leiningen? What cared he for the meeting of two haughty lords? In -the castle of Ehrenstein remained Adelaide; and where she was, even -though he might not see her, there was festival for him.</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide had left the hall while the preparations for her father's -journey were being made, and was not present when he departed. Old -Seckendorf bustled about for nearly half an hour after the Count was -gone, choosing out men, from those left in the castle, to accompany -him upon what was neither more nor less than a marauding expedition; -and he then set out with right good will to perform a part of his duty -which he loved the best. Ferdinand of Altenburg watched from the -battlements of one of the towers the train of his lord, as it crossed -the valley and mounted the opposite hill, and then fixing his eyes on -the spot where the road, emerging from the wood again, wound on -through the distant country, continued to gaze till the last horseman -disappeared on the road to Zweibrücken. He then paced up and down till -Seckendorf and his people also were gone, and then paused, leaning -thoughtfully against the wall, as if considering what was next to be -done.</p> - -<p class="normal">The world is full of thin partitions, moral and physical, so slight, -so feeble in appearance, that one would think they would fall with a -touch, but often more strong than doors of brass or iron; and like the -airy limits of two hostile countries, they are full of dangers to -those who pass them. There, in the same dwelling, with nought between -him and her but a door that would at once yield to his hand, was she -whom he loved. His heart beat to go and join her; hers he fondly hoped -would flutter gladly to have him near; but yet he dared not go. -Surrounded by her women, as he believed she was, he knew that the risk -of such a step would be great to all his future hopes; and yet he -asked himself again and again, if he must lose so bright an -opportunity. It might never return; all the manifold chances of human -fate presented themselves to his mind, and he would have been less -than a lover, if he had not resolved to find some means of drawing -sweet advantage from the golden present. How? was the only question; -and after long thought, he descended slowly by the steps that led to -the battlements beneath the lady's window, and there seating himself, -with his eyes turned over the distant country, as if simply whiling -away an idle hour, he sat and sang:--</p> -<div class="poem2"> -<h3>SONG.</h3> - -<p class="t1">Wander with me, loved one, loved one,</p> -<p class="t2">Wander with me where none can see;</p> -<p class="t3">Through the wood,<br> -By the flood,</p> -<p class="t2">Under the greenwood tree.</p> -<br> -<p class="t1">Wander with me, loved one, loved one,</p> -<p class="t2">Wander with me where none can hear;</p> -<p class="t3">Where none is nigh,<br> -But the birds that fly,</p> -<p class="t2">And the timid and silent deer.</p> -<br> -<p class="t1">Wander with me, loved one, loved one.</p> -<p class="t2">Wander with me where none can mark;</p> -<p class="t3">Where the leaves green,<br> -Our love shall screen,</p> -<p class="t2">In their bower 'twixt light and dark.</p> -<br> -<p class="t1">Wander with me, loved one, loved one,</p> -<p class="t2">And a tale to thee I'll tell,</p> -<p class="t3">Which, if thy heart<br> -With mine takes part,</p> -<p class="t2">Shall please thine ear right well.</p> -</div> - -<p class="normal">As he ended, the casement, which was partly open, was drawn fully -back, and the head of a gay, light-hearted girl, one of Adelaide's -attendants, was thrust forth with a laughing countenance, exclaiming, -"Get ye gone, you vile singer! no one can rest in peace for your harsh -voice. Methought it was a raven or a daw cawing on the battlements, -and our lady cannot read her missal for hearing thee talk of thy -'loved one, loved one.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, let him alone," said Adelaide, advancing to the window; "I love -music, Bertha; 'tis that thou canst not sing a note thyself that makes -thee jealous. Sing on, if thou wilt, Ferdinand; I would listen to you -with right good will, but that I promised Father George to come down -to the shrine to-day; and I must read before I go."</p> - -<p class="normal">She said no more, and did not even look at him while she spoke, but -the gay girl Bertha's eyes twinkled with an arch smile upon her lips, -as if she guessed more than either the lady or her lover suspected. -Ferdinand replied little, but slowly moved away: and in about ten -minutes after he might be seen going forth from the castle gates, and -taking the road which led away in a different direction from the -chapel in the wood.</p> - -<p class="normal">The reader need not be told that in every portion of life, in all -life's doings, in everything moral and physical, there are circuitous -paths; nor that nine times out of ten, when a man seems to be doing -one thing, he is doing another. It is a sad truth, a bitter dark -reality; so much so, indeed, that those who have watched man's ways -most closely, will best understand the force and beauty of the -words which the inspired writer uses,--"a man without a shadow of -turning"--to express all that we should be, and are not. However, in -that deep wood that cloaked the side of the hills, there were nearly -as many crooked paths and tortuous roads as in human life. Ferdinand -took his path to the north, the chapel lay to the south. The watchman -saw him go, and thought no more of it; but the keen eye of the gay -girl Bertha marked him also, and she smiled. Some half hour after, -when her young mistress went out alone, and bent her steps towards the -chapel, Bertha laughed.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">About an hour and a half after Ferdinand's song had ceased, the door -of the chapel, which had been closed, opened, and two figures came -forth under the green shadow of the forest leaves. The first was that -of Adelaide of Ehrenstein, and her face bore tokens of recent -agitation. By her side appeared good Father George, with his head -uncovered, and no staff in his hand. He was speaking with the lady, -earnestly but gently, and he still continued to walk on with her for -some yards up the hill. More than once, as they went, Adelaide's eyes -were turned to either side of the path, as if she feared or expected -some interruption, and though she said not a word to indicate what was -passing in her heart, the good Father marked the sort of anxiety she -seemed to feel, and at length paused, saying, "Well, my child, I will -go with you no farther. You will be quite safe on your way back; and -if you attend to my voice, and follow my counsel, you might be happy -yourself, and save others worlds of pain."</p> - -<p class="normal">He did not pause for a reply, but turned, and re-entered the chapel, -leaving Adelaide to pursue her way through the wood, with almost every -path of which she had been familiar from infancy. Nevertheless, as she -went, she still continued to look timidly round. She did not go far -alone, however, for just as she passed the first turning, which hid -the chapel from the eye, there was a step near, and Ferdinand was by -her side.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, Ferdinand!" she said, "I am terrified. What is it you want to -say? If any one were to find me here with you alone, what would they -think?--and my father, if he heard it, it would bring destruction on -your head too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fear not, fear not," replied her lover; "turn into this path with me, -dear Adelaide, it will bring you as quickly to the castle as the -other, and we can speak there more freely."</p> - -<p class="normal">His fair companion hesitated; but taking her hand in his, he led her -gently forward, though not without a glowing cheek and eyes cast down. -It was a small footway, which horses could not travel, and wound with -many a turn up to the top of the high hill on which the castle stood. -The short green mountain turf, the broken masses of rock here and -there, the straggling boughs reaching across, and the wild flowers -springing uncrushed, even in the midst of the path, showed that it was -trodden by no very frequent feet. The green branches crossing on high -shaded it from the sun; except when, about the hour of noon, his -searching rays poured down, slept on a mossy bank here and there, or -chequered the grass with dancing light and shade. The dove and the -wood-pigeon murmured overhead, the breeze sighed faintly through the -leaves, and the nightingale--still in song--trilled his rich notes -upon many a bough above. There was a tenderness and yet a freshness in -the air; there was a calming and softening light upon the way; there -was a loveliness and a promise, and a wooing gentleness in the whole -scene, that fitted it well for lovers and for love. The voice of -nature seemed counselling affection; the aspect of all things -harmonized with the passion in each of those two young hearts; and -though Ferdinand was not skilled enough in the mystery of association -to have chosen that scene as one likely to melt and touch the heart he -sought to make his own, yet he could not have found one on the whole -earth better adapted for the tale he had to tell. He lost no time ere -he told it; and though his words were ardent--ay, and even -impassioned--yet there was a gentleness in his whole tone, a soft and -deprecating look upon his countenance, a tenderness as well as a -warmth in all he said, which prevented the young and timid woman's -heart from feeling much of that sort of apprehension with which it -often shrinks from the first touch of love. Brought up with him almost -from her childhood, unlearned in the ways of the world, left nearly to -solitude since her mother's death, with no other companion in her -girlhood but him who walked beside her, and loving him with a love -that had still increased, Adelaide felt it less strange to listen to -such words from him, than she would have done with any other human -being. She felt it less difficult, too, to reply to him, timidly, yet -frankly, not concealing what she felt, even when she did not speak it.</p> - -<p class="normal">He told her how long he had loved,--for a few short years, or even -months, were long in their short lives. He told her how the affection -of the boy had grown into the passion of the man; how the fraternal -tenderness of early life had warmed into the ardent affection of -maturity. He told her, too, how hope had been first illumined in his -heart by light that seemed to shine forth from hers; how words that -she had spoken without feeling their full import, had bid him not -despair; how smiles from her lips, and rays from her eyes, had -nourished and expanded the flower of love in his bosom. He went on to -relate how he had trembled, and feared, and doubted, and hesitated, -when he first became conscious of the full strength of all his -sensations; how he had put a guard upon himself; how he had refrained -from seeing her alone; how he had resisted many a temptation; but how -the power of the passion within had overcome all prudent care, and had -made him more than once speak words of tenderness, in spite of every -effort to restrain them. With the rich, wild imagery of a warm and -glowing imagination, and of a heart full of eager affection, he -depicted the pangs he had endured, the struggles he had undergone, the -cares and anxieties which had been his companions during the day, the -bitter and despairing thoughts which had haunted him through the -night. But at length he explained how hope had dawned upon him; how -assurance and comfort had been given him the night before; and how -one, upon whom they could both depend, had encouraged him to -persevere, and held out mysterious hopes of fortune and success.</p> - -<p class="normal">He did not, indeed, pursue his tale evenly to the close; for more than -once his fair companion murmured a few words of compassion for what he -had suffered, of anxiety for his safety, of doubt regarding the -future; all of which were very sweet, for all showed him too happily, -too brightly, that he was loved in return; and when at length he -referred to his conversation with the priest, and to the expectations -which had been held out, she looked eagerly up in his face, replying -without disguise, "So he said to me, Ferdinand. He spoke of strange -and mysterious things; of my fate and that of my house being linked to -yours by an unseen tie; which, if it were broken, would bring ruin on -us all. I could not understand him. I doubted, for I could scarcely -believe such happy tidings true."</p> - -<p class="normal">She paused and coloured, as soon as the words were spoken; and blushed -more deeply still when he asked, "Then they were happy, dear -Adelaide?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"You do not doubt it," she murmured, after a moment's silence. "But at -all events," she continued--suddenly turning from the question--"my -mother told me, the very last time she held me in her arms, to trust -to what he might say; and now he bids me give myself to you, without -fear or doubt. I know not what to think."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Think that he directs you right, dear Adelaide," replied her lover -eagerly; "and oh! follow his guidance, and the guidance of your own -heart."</p> - -<p class="normal">She was silent for some minutes, walking on by his side, till at -length he asked, "Will you not promise, Adelaide, will you not promise -to be mine?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"How can I--how dare I?" she answered. "Without my father's will, what -good were my promise, Ferdinand?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"All, everything to me," answered her lover; "for that promise once -given you would not break it, dear one. Who can tell what your father -may design? Who can tell that he may not some day seek to drive you to -a marriage with one you hate; or, at best, can never love? But that -promise once given to me, would be strength to you, my beloved, as -well as comfort and assurance to myself. It would be the rainbow of my -life; a pledge that there would be no more destruction of all hopes. -Oh! dear girl, do not refuse me; give me back comfort and joy; give me -back light and sunshine; give me that security against all I dread; -give we that support in danger, that consolation in affliction, that -object of endeavour and of hope. Were it but the voice of a lover, -Adelaide, you might well hesitate, you might well doubt; but one who -has no passion to serve, who is calmer, alas! than I can be; who knows -more than we know, and judges more wisely than we can judge--one for -whom your dear mother bespoke your confidence; one whom you promised -her to trust and to rely on he urges you as strongly even as I do, and -bids you follow the course in which love would lead, not for my sake -alone, but for your own also."</p> - -<p class="normal"> -They had reached a spot, by this time, where the wood fell back a -little from the path on one side, and a low, rocky bank appeared on -the other, crowned with old beeches. A spring of bright, clear water -welled from the stone, filling a basin that some careful hand had -carved below; while above, in a little niche, was placed a figure of -the Virgin, with the infant Saviour in her arms; and Ferdinand, -extending his hand towards the well, added earnestly, "Here I, at -least, Adelaide, saw that dear lady for the last time; here she taught -us to kneel down and pray together, not many days before she laid that -injunction upon you. And now, dear Adelaide, now you will not refuse -me now you will follow the counsel to which she pointed--and promise -to be mine."</p> - -<p class="normal"> -There was love in her heart, there was a voice in her own bosom spoke -more eloquently than his; she wavered--she yielded. He saw the colour -come and go; he saw the bright eyes full of tears; he saw the lip -quiver, and he cried, "Oh! promise, promise, Adelaide!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I do," she murmured; and at the same instant a voice near -seemed to say, "Promised, promised!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Both started and looked round, but nothing was to be seen. The clear -light streamed through the trees on the top of the bank, suffering the -eye to see for some way between their trunks; the open space behind -was considerable, and no place of concealment appeared to be near.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was but the echo, dearest," said Ferdinand; and pronouncing a word -or two sharply, there was a slight return of the sound. Adelaide was -not satisfied, however, and laying her hand upon his arm, she said in -a low tone, "Come away, come away. Oh, Heaven! if any one should have -discovered us!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No fear, no fear, dearest," replied her lover, walking on by her -side. "But to guard against discovery for the future, Adelaide, we -must devise some means of communication. Is there any one near you, -whom you can trust, my beloved?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No one but Bertha," answered the lady: "I can trust her, I am sure, -for she is good and true; but yet I do not think I could ever make up -my mind to speak to her on the subject first."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand mused for a moment or two, with a smile upon his lips; and -then replied, "I almost suspect, Adelaide, that Bertha will not -require much information. If I might judge by her look to-day, she's -already aware of more than you suspect."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Adelaide, "do not say so. If she is, my -conduct must have been very imprudent."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Her eye may have been very keen," replied her companion; "but if -you think you can trust her, I will speak to her upon the subject -myself--cautiously and carefully, you know, dear one, so as not to -tell her more than is necessary at once; but, indeed, I can foresee -many circumstances in which we shall have absolute need of some one to -aid us--of some one who can give tidings of each to the other, when -all opportunity of private intercourse may be denied us."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must judge, Ferdinand, you must judge," answered Adelaide; "but, -indeed, I fear I have done wrong already, and tremble to look forward -to the coming time. And now, leave me, dear Ferdinand. We are near the -castle, and you ought not to go with me further. Every step agitates -and terrifies me, and I would fain seek my own chamber, and think."</p> - -<p class="normal">Still Ferdinand lingered, however, for some time longer; still he -detained his fair companion; nor would he part with her till love's -first caress was given, and the bond between them sealed upon her -lips. But at length Adelaide withdrew her hand, half smiling, half -chiding, and hurried away, leaving him to follow some time after. When -she reached the castle, she passed the room where she had before been -sitting, catching with a glowing cheek a gay, arch look that Bertha -directed towards her; and entering her bed-room, cast herself upon her -knees and prayed, while tears of agitation and alarm, both at her own -sensations, and at what she had promised, rolled over the dark lashes -of her eyes, and trickled down her cheek. Young love is ever timid; -but in her case there were other feelings which moved her strongly and -painfully. She was not satisfied with her own conduct; she feared she -had done wrong; and for that one day she acted the part of a severe -censor on herself. True, her father's demeanour little invited -confidence; true, he was often harsh and severe, even to her; true, -from him she could expect no consideration for her wishes or for her -feelings; but yet he was her father, the one whom she was bound to -love and to obey; and her own heart would not altogether acquit her, -even though love pleaded eloquently on her behalf. I have said that -she thus felt and suffered for that one day; for, as will be seen -hereafter, a strange and sudden change came over her, and with no -apparent reason, she soon gave herself up unboundedly to the full -influence of, her attachment. The human heart is a strange thing; but -very often, for visible effects which seem unaccountable, there are -secret causes sufficient for all. In our dealings with the world, and -with each of our fellow-men, we are too often unjust, not so much from -judging wrongly, as from judging at all. "Man can but judge from what -he knows," is the common cry of those who find themselves fearfully -wrong when all is explained; but the question which each should ask -himself is, "Am I called upon to judge at all?" and too often the -reply would be, "Judge not, and thou shalt not be judged; condemn not, -and thou shalt not be condemned." Sufficient, surely, is the awful -responsibility of judging, when duty or self-defence forces it upon -us; how terrible, then, the weight when we undertake to decide -unnecessarily upon the conduct of others, without seeing the -circumstances, without hearing the evidence, without knowing the -motives,--and yet we do it every day, and every hour, in our deeds, in -our words, and in our thoughts, lacking that true charity of the heart -that thinketh no evil. But man has become a beast of prey: the laws -prevent him from tearing his fellows with his teeth, and the human -tiger preys upon them in his thoughts.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">There are men who rise from a low station to a throne; and it -certainly must be a grand and triumphant sensation which they -experience when first they sit in the seat of sovereignty, and feel -their brows pressed by the golden circlet of command, with the great -objects of ambition all attained, the struggle up the steep ascent to -power accomplished, and the end reached for which they have fought, -and laboured, and watched through many a weary day and night. But the -exultation of that moment, great as it may be, is nothing to that -which fills the heart of youth in the first moment of successful love. -The new-throned usurper must be well-nigh weary of repeated triumphs; -for the step to the throne is but the last of many a fatiguing -footfall in the path of ambition. He, too, must foresee innumerable -dangers and difficulties round; for the experience of the past must -teach him that in his race there is no goal, that the prize is never -really won, that he may have distanced all others, but that he must -still run on. Not so with the lover in the early hours of his success; -his is the first step in the course of joy, and the brightest, because -the first. Fresh from all the dreams of youth, it is to him the -sweetest of realities; unwearied with the bitter task of experience, -he has the capability of enjoyment as well as the expectation of -repose. The brightness of the present spreads a veil of misty light -over all that is threatening in the future; and the well of sweet -waters in the heart seems inexhaustible.</p> - -<p class="normal">With what a different step Ferdinand of Altenburg trod the halls of -the castle on his return; with what a different view he looked on all -things round him! The gloomy towers, the shadowy chambers, the long, -cheerless corridors, seemed full of light; and there was a gay and -laughing spirit in his heart which had not been there since love first -became its tenant. He could have jested, he could have sported like a -child; but, alas! there was no one to jest or sport with, for not more -than five or six men were left in the castle after the train of the -Count and the little band of Seckendorf had departed. Adelaide, too, -remained in her own apartments, whither he dared not venture; and none -of the two or three girls who attended upon her, and who, with an -elderly dame, whose principal function appeared to be to quarrel with -the chief butler, formed all the female inmates of Ehrenstein, -ventured forth for nearly two hours after his return. Bertha, indeed, -looked at him once, as he paced the battlements below the windows of -the room in which she sat, but maliciously kept the casement closed, -suspecting, perhaps, that he had had enough enjoyment for one day. -Anxious to speak with her, and to carry out his plan for making her -the means of communicating with her mistress, Ferdinand, as he turned -back again, ventured to make her a sign to join him; but Bertha took -no notice, and plied her busy hands on the embroidery frame where she -sat, without seeming even to see him.</p> - -<p class="normal">The poor lover's first happy day promised but a dull passing. Those -were not days of many books; and perhaps, in the whole extent of the -castle, not more than four or five were to be found. But Ferdinand -could not have read, even had they been to be procured, for his whole -thoughts were in that busy and excited state, in which it was -impossible to fix his mind with attention upon anything but his own -fate and projects. He went the whole round of the castle; then he saw -that everything was in order; he spoke to the men who were in the -execution of their daily duties; and often as he went, he fell into a -fit of thought, where fancy rapt him far away, wandering in bright -sunny lands, side by side with her he loved. At length, returning to -the corridor above, through which he knew that both Adelaide and -Bertha must pass, if either came forth from the ladies' apartments, he -stationed himself at one of the windows, and continued to gaze out -over the wide extent of forest, and hill, and dale, which the prospect -presented. All was silent and quiet. A dreamy stillness hung over the -whole place; the sunshine itself seemed to sleep quietly over the -motionless masses of the trees, and never was there an hour or a scene -in which a young lover might indulge the glittering visions of -imagination, with less to distract or interrupt his thoughts.</p> - -<p class="normal">The last four-and-twenty hours had been busy ones in Ferdinand's -life--busy in emotions, if not in action; and they had been varied too -by many a change of sensation, by much despondency, by awe and by -fear, and by hope and joy. But if the truth must be told, it was only -on the hope and joy that his mind dwelt. The strange and fearful -scenes through which he had passed the night before were forgotten, or -at least not thought of; the sorrows that were past gave but a sort of -shadowy relief to the bright aspect of the present; difficulties, -impediments, dangers, were unheeded or unseen.</p> - -<p class="normal">For not more than half an hour, however, was he suffered thus to -dream; for, at the end of that time, the door at which he had looked -up as he passed on the preceding night was opened and closed; and -turning quickly round he saw Bertha gliding down the corridor towards -the top of the staircase. She laid her finger on her lips as she -passed him; and, without speaking, he followed were she led.</p> - -<p class="normal">The gay girl took her way to the battlements on the shady side of the -castle, to which few of the rooms of the building were turned; there -she paused, and looked gaily at Ferdinand, with her dark eyes -sparkling, and her pretty little lip curling with fun and malice. -"Impudent young man," she said, as he joined her, "how can you do such -things? first singing a love song under my window, and then making me -a sign to come and join you. I'm a great deal too good-natured, and -too tender thus to indulge you. If our lady were to find out that we -were lovers, she would tell her father and then we should soon both be -sent out of the castle."</p> - -<p class="normal">She spoke as gravely as she could; and though her gay look might eye -some indication of what was passing within, yet Bertha's eyes were -always such merry ones, that Ferdinand felt not a little embarrassed -how to answer what perhaps might be a jest, but which might yet be -serious also. She enjoyed his perplexity for a moment or two, and then -asked in a sharp tone, "Well, Sir, why don't you speak if you have -anything to say? If you don't, I must give you something to talk -about. Tell me, Sir, what is it has made my mistress so sad since she -went out and met you in the wood?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Sad is she?" exclaimed Ferdinand, alarmed; "I know nought that should -make her sad."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, she is," replied Bertha; "for she's shut up in her own room, -and Theresa compassionately looked through the keyhole, and told us -she was weeping."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good Heaven!" exclaimed Ferdinand, still hesitating whether he should -acknowledge that he had met Adelaide or not. "Nothing I have ever done -could give her pain."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, don't look so terrified, Sir lover," answered Bertha; "there -are a thousand other things beside pain that make women weep; -sometimes joy, sometimes fright; and perhaps it is the last in this -case."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But why should she fear?" asked Ferdinand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, that you know best," replied Bertha. "You've neither of you -thought fit to tell me anything about it; but you had a great deal -better; for, if you don't, depend upon it you'll get yourselves into -all manner of difficulties and dangers. You are both of you as -imprudent and as ignorant of such matters as if you were twelve years -old; and I should not wonder if you were to have yourself strangled -for making love to your lord's daughter, and to get her either shut up -in a convent, or married in haste to some fierce old baron, who may -maltreat her, as my good and noble lord, the Count, used his poor -wife."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, now you are trying to tease me, pretty Bertha," replied -Ferdinand of Altenburg. "As I see you know a great deal, I may as well -tell you all; and I will, if you can be serious; but if you go on in -jest with me, I will jest with you, and may find means to tease you -too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, am not jesting at all," answered Bertha, more gravely; "all I -have said is true enough: and I can tell you I have been in a great -fright for you both for some time. For during the last month I have -been terrified every day lest others should see what was plain enough -to my eyes. Do you consider what it is you are doing, and what sort of -a man our lord is--that he would no more hesitate to put you to death -in the castle-ditch than to eat his breakfast?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He dare not," answered Ferdinand, boldly. "He may do that with a serf -or a vassal, perhaps; but I am neither the one nor the other, and as -noble as he is."</p> - -<p class="normal">All women love daring, and the youth's answer pleased his companion -well; yet she could not help jesting him a little upon what she called -his pride. "Oh, yes, you're a gentleman born!" she said; "you have -made us all know that. But now, Ferdinand, talk a little reason, and -don't pretend to say what our lord dare do, or dare not do. He dare do -many a thing, and has before now, which perhaps neither I nor you -dream of. But in a word, young gentleman--for I must not stop long--I -have seen for some time all that is going on here, and would have -given a great deal to stop it, but I did not know how; and now it is -too late. The only thing to be thought of at present is, what is to -come of all this? On my life! my knees shake when I think of it; and I -am not apt to be afraid of a little adventure either. What is it that -you two propose to do?"</p> - -<p class="normal">To say the truth, this was a question for which Ferdinand was not at -all prepared with an answer. He had laid out, indeed, no distinct plan -of action. Youth and love are strange reliers upon circumstances, and -he replied simply, "To go on loving, I suppose."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, that plan will never do," answered Bertha, laughing. "You can't -stop there. In the first place, you would neither of you be content to -go on loving like a couple of turtles in two separate cages all your -lives; and besides, things would soon happen to drive you out of such -idleness of love. Any day of the week, any lord may think fit to marry -his daughter; and what would she and you do then? I must think of some -plan for you, poor things; for I see you are not fit to devise any for -yourselves."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The only plan, my pretty Bertha; to be followed at present," answered -Ferdinand, after a moment's thought, "is for you to befriend us, and -give us help as far as you can, in whatever circumstances may occur; -to let me know everything that happens to your lady that I do not see; -and I will take care that you shall know everything that occurs to me, -in order that it may be communicated to her. I am sure it is your wish -to serve her, Bertha; she loves you dearly, and has such confidence in -you that she told me I might confide in you implicitly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I would serve her with my heart's blood," replied the girl, warmly; -"though Heaven forbid that I should have to do so," she added, -laughing; "for I would a great deal rather have that heart's blood -where it is, and see her happy too, poor girl. But, heigho! I don't -know how that's to be done, and if I am to be the messenger between -you, Master Ferdinand, there will be nothing for it but for you to -make love to me; or, at least, to get the people of the castle to -think you are so doing."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, that won't be a very difficult task, Bertha," replied the young -man, with a gallant look. "And all we can do is to watch events, and -to take advantage of them as they arise--at least till we have further -counsel from Father George as to how we ought to act."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, is Father George in the secret?" cried Bertha, clapping her hands -joyfully; "then there is hope. The lord of the abbey against the lord -of the castle will always beat in the end. But what says the good -Father?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He says everything to encourage us," answered Ferdinand, "and, unlike -you, fair Bertha, nothing to discourage."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He knows more than I do," replied Bertha, "more than any of us; and -he has some reason, I'll warrant. I wish to Heaven I could see him; -but I dare not go down so far, for fear I should be missed. He was -with our poor lady in her last hours, and doubtless could tell a tale -if he would--well, well, men are strange creatures. I wonder women are -such fools as to make themselves their slaves--I'll never marry--not -I; for I never yet saw the man that was not as soft as a dormouse -while he was courting, and as hard as a hyena when he was married. But -there comes old Seckendorf riding up through the wood--I must away, -for he's the greatest old tell-tale in the world, with the gossiping -tongue of a grandmother, the spite of a monkey, and the heart of a -wolf."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay, Bertha," cried the young gentleman. "If we are to seem -lovers, you know, it is as well that the old man should see us; and if -he catches sight of you walking here with me, without perceiving who -it is distinctly, he may fancy it is Adelaide, and make mischief -there."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, you treacherous boy!" cried the gay girl, "that is a true -specimen of all men. To shield yourself and your love of the hour you -would have all the risk and the blame fall upon me, though Heaven -knows I am hazarding enough to serve you. The more faith and truth we -poor things have, the more ready are you to sacrifice us. It seems -quite natural and right, does it not, that I should, just as an honour -and a pleasure, fall into blame with my lord, and seem your light of -love to blind him to your mad passion for his daughter."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you yourself proposed, I should make the people think that you, -Bertha, are the object I am seeking," replied Ferdinand; "and now when -I propose to follow that very plan you accuse me of ingratitude, -wavering to and fro like an aspen leaf."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Am I not a woman?" cried Bertha, laughing; "have I not a right to -waver? If you are to make love to me, I tell you, I will change fifty -times a day; when I pout, you shall call my lips budding roses; when I -smile, you shall call my brow, heaven; when I cry, you shall say my -eyes are like the April sky. Now, I am not in the humour for being -made love to, so I have more than a mind to run away and leave you as -a morsel for old Seckendorf's grinders--at least, those he has left."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay, dear Bertha," cried Ferdinand, pressing to her side as he -saw the horsemen coming near; "if not for mine, for your sweet -mistress's sake, play out the part you have undertaken."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The mystery must not be a long one, then, Master Ferdinand," answered -Bertha; "and, for modesty, keep a little farther off, for although I -do not very much mind that people should say I listened to a love -story--there being no great harm in that--I would rather they did not -think it too warm a one, for women have a character to lose, though -men have none worth keeping."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But then, dear Bertha, it is understood that you will befriend us," -said her companion, "and will keep our secret, and give us all sorts -of information and advice."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Aye, aye," answered Bertha, "I must risk putting my hand into the -bee-hive and being stung to death, to get you to the honey. I am older -than either of you, and ought to know better, but you are two such -poor imprudent things, that if I did not help you, one would die of a -broken heart, and the other of a broken neck, very soon, so I must -even run the risk. But I will have some talk with Father George, very -soon, for if he does not give me some assurance and comfort, I shall -dream of nothing but being strangled every night. Here they come, here -they come; Seckendorf and his gang. Heaven and earth! what have they -got all those horses loaded with? they must have been plundering -Neustadt. Now, cannot you make me a fine speech, Master Ferdinand, -swearing love and eternal constancy, such as you men tickle poor -girls' ears with, just to let old Seckendorf see you in the act of -protestation?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I would give you a kiss, pretty Bertha," replied Ferdinand, gaily, -"and that would do better, only you told me not to come near."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, that would be too close, a great deal," answered Bertha, -laughing. "There, he sees us--hark! he is calling out to us I will run -away as if in a fright, and let him see my face as I go."</p> - -<p class="normal">She did as she proposed, and in a moment after the old knight came -riding along under the battlements calling up to Ferdinand with a loud -laugh, "Ha, ha, you young dog, that's what you staid at home for, to -chat with pretty Bertha on the walls!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No great harm in that, Seckendorf," replied Ferdinand, leaning over -to speak to him. "I dare say you have done such a thing before now, -yourself; and will do it again many a time. Both she and I like a walk -in the free air, better than being stifled in the castle all day long. -And why shouldn't we take it together?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"If that were all, why didn't you go on the side, where folks could -see you?" replied the old man, still merry. "No, no, youngster, I am -too old a campaigner for that. However, it's no business of mine. -We've made a glorious forage. The rogues did not expect to be called -upon in such a hurry, so that all the capons were strutting before the -door; aye, and geese too. How many geese have we got, Martin?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nineteen, Sir," answered the man; and the old knight was riding on, -when Ferdinand called after him, laughing, "Why, that's the number of -your troop, Seckendorf!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The other shook his fist at him good-humouredly enough; for his heart -was expanded by the success of his expedition, and to say the truth, -Bertha had done him but scanty justice. He was a thorough old German -knight of the times--a character which had generally more or less of -the reiter in it--as ignorant as a boor of everything but war, brave -as a lion, superstitious in a high degree, bloody when enraged or -opposed, rapacious as any beast of prey, and holding fast by the old -maxim, that anything is justifiable in love or war. Far from thinking -the worse, therefore, of Ferdinand, if he had made love to all -Adelaide's maids together, he would only have considered it a very -laudable method of employing his idle hours, and would never have -thought of reporting it to the Count as a matter of blame. He looked -upon deceiving a poor girl with tales of love, or beating a boor -nearly to death who resisted any unjust demand, as one of the -privileges of a soldier and a gentleman, which it was not only just -but expedient to exercise from time to time, to keep such rights from -falling into desuetude; and after he entered the castle, turning his -thoughts to other affairs, he gave no more attention to the -proceedings of Bertha and Ferdinand, only jesting the young man for a -moment upon his love-making; and declaring that he had shown bad -taste, for that Theresa was by far the prettier girl of the two.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's because you are as black yourself as one of the andirons," -answered Ferdinand, "and therefore you think every fair-faced girl -with flaxen hair a perfect beauty. I dare say you've said sweet things -enough to Theresa, and, therefore, I wouldn't for the world try to -spoil your game, if you won't spoil mine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pooh, nonsense; I've given up love these twenty years," said -Seckendorf, "but I won't meddle with your affairs. I wouldn't mar a -nice little plot of love for half the lands of Ehrenstein--so go on -your own way, I'll not interfere."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Upon your honour?" asked Ferdinand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Upon my knighthood," replied the old man. "So long as you do your -duty as a soldier, I not meddle with your love affairs. But on my -life, I'm mighty hungry, for I've had nothing but a flagon of wine -since I went, and I can never wait till supper-time."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not be afraid," answered Ferdinand, "I made the cook put by for -you at dinner, the whole of a roast chine of roebuck, though Metzler -and Herman looked at it as if their very eyes would have eaten it. I -knew you would come home like a wolf."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's a good boy, that's a good boy," answered the old knight, "I -won't forget you for that. You shall have the skinning of a fat -village some day all to yourself; but I'll go and get the -<i>Reh-braten</i>, for I could eat my fingers." And away he went, to -satisfy his appetite, which was at all times one of the best.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">An hour or two went by, and it was drawing towards night, when -Seckendorf, after having appeased the cravings of hunger, was walking -up and down the ordinary hall, for want of anything else to do. -Indeed, the piping time of peace to a soldier of his stamp was a very -dull period, especially at that season of the year, when many of the -sports of the field are forbidden; and any little incident that broke -the monotony of the castle life was a great relief. There was nobody -in the hall but himself; and he was cursing the slow flight of time, -and thinking the Count very long upon the road home, when the lifting -of the door latch made him turn his head, and he instantly exclaimed, -with a hoarse laugh, "Ha! who are you looking for, Mrs. Bertha? -Ferdinand is not here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was looking for you, Sir," answered Bertha, with perfect composure, -at the same time walking up to him. "I do not think my lady is at all -well," she continued, "she has been moping by herself all day, and -says her head aches."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! that's bad, that's bad," answered Seckendorf: "no one should have -a headache but a boy of sixteen who has been drunk overnight. But what -can I do, pretty Bertha; I'm no leech, and am more accustomed to -bleeding men than bleeding women?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, but Sir Knight, you can send down to the chapel, where one of the -monks will be found. They all know something of leechcraft; and if -Father George is there, he knows a great deal."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But it's growing dark," said Seckendorf. "The gates must be shut in -ten minutes, and we want all the men we have about the place. Better -wait till the Count comes back, and if she should be very bad, I'll -tell you what you must do; mull half a pint of Zeller wine; put plenty -of spice in, and a spoonful or two of honey. Let her drink that down -at one draught,--that will cure her. It is just what cured me the only -time I ever had a headache."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, but what would cure you might kill our lady," replied Bertha, who -did not at all approve of the prescription. "I pray you, Herr von -Seckendorf, send down one of the men to the good Father. What would -you say if this were to turn out a fever after you refused to send for -help?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"A fever!" cried Seckendorf, "what has she done to get a fever? She -has neither ridden fifty or sixty miles in a hot sun, nor lain out all -night in a damp marsh; nor drunk three or four quarts of wine to heat -her blood--Well, if I must send, I must; but mind, I do it with no -good will, for I don't like to send any of the men out after gates -closing."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he put his head out of the door, calling till the whole -building echoed again: "Martin, Martin--Martin, I say;" and then -returning to Bertha's side, he continued, "I don't think much of the -monks. They can't be such holy men as people say, else they'd keep the -wood clear of spirits and devils, and things of that kind. Why one of -the men, who was looking out from the turret during the storm last -night, vows he saw some kind of apparition just down below the chapel, -fencing with the lightning, and playing at pitch and toss with balls -of fire. Then all in a minute he vanished away.--Ah! Martin, you must -go down to the chapel in the wood, and tell the priest to come up and -see the lady Adelaide, who is ill; so let him bring his lancet with -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nonsense," cried Bertha, "she will need no bleeding; you soldiers -think of nothing but blood."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man Martin dropped his bead, and did not at all seem to like the -task; but then gave a look through the window to the sky and walked -away, grumbling something which was neither heard by the old knight -nor the young damsel. Bertha having performed her errand, was then -tripping away; but Seckendorf caught her hand, saying, in a honied -tone, "Stay a bit, my pretty maid, and chat with me, as you did with -young Ferdinand this morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, indeed," cried Bertha, trying to withdraw her hand; "that was in -the free air and sunshine, not in a dark hall--let me go, Sir." But -the next moment her eyes fixed upon something at the further end of -the long room, and giving a loud scream she started back.</p> - -<p class="normal">Seckendorf let go her hand, and turned round to look in the same -direction, where two doors opened into the opposite sides of the hall. -Both apparently were closed, but yet, from the one to the other he -distinctly perceived a tall shadowy form, clothed in long garments, -stalk slowly across, and disappear. The old man who would willingly -have confronted a whole host of mortal enemies, and plunged his horse -into a forest of spikes, now stood rooted to the ground, with his -teeth chattering and his knees shaking, a thousand-fold more terrified -than the young girl beside him. Bertha seized the opportunity to -hasten away to her mistress's apartments; and Seckendorf, who called -after her in vain, thought the line of her retreat by the door behind -them so excellent, that he followed as soon as he could regain -strength to go.</p> - -<p class="normal">Never in Seckendorf's life had he so eagerly desired companionship as -when he quitted the hall; but companionship he could not find, of the -kind and quality that befitted his rank and station. The old ritter -would have felt himself degraded by associating with the common -soldiers, or anybody who had not von before his name; but Ferdinand he -could not find; his companion, old Karl von Mosbach, had accompanied -the Count, with all the other persons of gentle birth who filled the -various anomalous offices which then existed in the household of a -high nobleman; and not even a crossbow-man, who, as was generally -admitted, had a right to sit down to table with a knight, could be -discovered by our worthy friend, as he went grumbling through the -castle.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hundert Schwerin!" he exclaimed; "to think of my seeing the ghost! -Santa Maria! who'd have ever fancied it would have come into the hall? -It looked to me, mighty like our poor dear lady that's gone, only it -had a long beard, and was six foot high. I wonder if our good lord did -put her out of the way, as some people think!--What could it want in -the hall? Very saucy of an apparition to show itself there, unless it -were at meal times, when, poor thing! it might want something to eat -and drink. It must be cold and hungry work to go shivering about all -night in vaults and passages, and to sneak back to its hiding-hole at -daylight. I'd rather stand sentry on the northern'st tower in the -middle of January. I wonder if I shall ever be a ghost! I should not -like it at all. I'll have this one laid, however, if it costs me five -crowns out of my own pocket; for we shan't be safe in our rooms, if it -goes on in this way, unless we huddle up five or six together, like -young pigs in a sty. Donner! where can that young dog, Ferdinand, be? -I won't tell him what I've seen, for he'll only laugh; but I'll call -him to talk about the Lady Adelaide; he's very fond of her, and will -like to hear about her being ill;" and, raising his voice, with these -friendly intentions, he called up the stairs which led to the young -gentleman's room,--"Ferdinand! Ferdinand!--I want you, scapegrace!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is it, ritter?" answered the voice of Ferdinand from above; "I'm -busy, just now; I'll come in a minute."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I want you now," answered Seckendorf, who was determined not to -be left longer without society than was necessary;--"Come hither and -speak to me, or I will come to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand said a word or two to some one above, and then came -unwillingly down the stairs.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, wild one!" said the old knight, "what would you have given to be -in my place just now? I've had a chat with pretty mistress Bertha, -just between light and dark, in the hall."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" answered Ferdinand. "I dare say it was very innocent, -Seckendorf; and so was my chat with her on the battlements. But what -might she want with you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, the Lady Adelaide is very ill," replied Seckendorf.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ill!" exclaimed Ferdinand, in a tone of much alarm. "What, the Lady -Adelaide! She seemed quite well this morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, but women change like the wind," said Seckendorf; "and she's ill -now, however; so I've sent down to the chapel for the priest to come -up and say what's to be done for her."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, Father George is in my room now," replied Ferdinand, "giving me -good counsel and advice."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Send him down, then,--send him down, quick," said Seckendorf; "and -then come and talk with me: I've a good deal to say."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand sped away with a much more rapid step than that which had -brought him thither, and returned in a few seconds with the good -priest, whose face, as far as Seckendorf could see it, in the -increasing darkness, expressed much less alarm than that which the -lover's countenance had displayed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"'Tis nothing,--'tis nothing," he said, after speaking with the old -knight for a moment, on the lady's illness; "some trifle that will -soon pass. But I will go and see;" and, accompanied by Ferdinand and -the old soldier as far as the door of Adelaide's apartments, he went -in without ceremony.</p> - -<p class="normal">While he remained,--and he staid for more than an hour, Ferdinand and -Seckendorf continued walking up and down the corridor, and only went -beyond it to order the hall and the passages to be lighted. Their -conversation was entirely of the Lady Adelaide and her illness; for -though, with the invariable garrulity of one who had seen a marvel, -Seckendorf more than a dozen times approached the subject of the -apparition, ready to pour the whole tale into Ferdinand's ear, -notwithstanding all his resolutions to the contrary, the young man was -still more occupied with the thoughts of his fair lady's state, than -the old knight with the memory of the ghost, and he ever turned back -to that topic just when the whole history was about to be related. -Then Seckendorf would discourse learnedly upon calentures and fevers, -hot and cold, describe the humours that ferment in man's blood, and -tell what are the vapours that rise from their fermentation; shake his -head and declare that it was a wondrous pity young girls should be so -given phthisick, which often carried them off in the flower of their -age, and the lustre of their beauty; and, shaking his head when he -pronounced Adelaide's name, would declare that she looked sadly frail -of late, doubting whether she would last another winter. But as all -this--though it served to torment in a terrible manner the heart of -the young lover--would probably not prove very entertaining to the -reader, we will pass over the further particulars till the good -father's return. By this time, to Seckendorf's great comfort and -consolation, there was as much light shed through the corridor, from a -great crescet at one end and a lantern at the other, as the passages -of the castle ever displayed. It was not very brilliant, indeed, but -sufficiently so to show that Father George's countenance was perfectly -cheerful and calm; and in answer to the eager questions of Ferdinand, -and the less anxious inquiries of the old knight, he said,--"Oh, the -lady is better; 'tis but a little passing cloud, and she will be as -well as ever ere the morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Have you let her blood?" asked Seckendorf.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, no need of that," answered Father George. "Her illness came but -from some melancholy fumes, rising from the heart to the head. That I -have remedied, and she is better already,--but I must hasten back, for -I may be needed at the chapel."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay, good father," cried the old knight; "I have something to -ask of you. I will go with you to the gate;" and walking on with -Father George, he entertained him with an account of the apparition he -had seen in the hall, and besought him to take the most canonical -means of laying the unwelcome visitant, by the heels, in the Red Sea; -or if that could not be done for a matter of five or ten crowns, at -least to put up such prayers on his behalf, as would secure him -against any farther personal acquaintance with it.</p> - -<p class="normal">Father George smiled quietly at the old knight's tale, and assured him -he would do his best in the case, after due consideration. Then, -hastening away, he passed down the hill, and just reached the door of -his temporary dwelling, when the sound of many horses' feet, coming up -from below, announced the return of the Count to Ehrenstein. Father -George, however, did not wait to salute the nobleman as he passed, or -to communicate to him the fact of his daughter's illness, but entered -his little cell, and closing the door listened for a moment or two as -the long train passed by, and then lighted his lamp.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean time the Count rode on, with somewhat jaded horses, and at -a slow pace, looking to the right and left, through the dim obscurity -of the night, as if he, too, were not altogether without apprehensions -of some terrible sight presenting itself. More than once he struck his -horse suddenly with the spur, and not one word did he interchange with -any of his followers, from the time he crossed the bridge till he -arrived at the Castle gates. He was met under the archway by -Seckendorf and Ferdinand, the <i>Schlossvogt</i>, or castle bailiff, and -two or three of the guard. But he noticed no one except the old -knight, whom he took by the arm, and walked on with him into the hall.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What news, Seckendorf?" he said. "Has anything happened since I -went?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, two or three things, my lord," replied Seckendorf. "In the first -place, the lady Adelaide has been ill, headachy, and drooping, like a -sick falcon."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pooh! some woman's ailment, that will be gone to-morrow," replied the -Count.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, so says Father George, whom I sent for, to see her," answered -Seckendorf. And finding that his lord paid very little attention to -the state of his daughter's health, he went on to give him an account -of his foraging expedition in the morning, dwelling long and minutely -upon the number of ducks, capons, geese, sheep, and lambs, which he -had obtained, and dilating somewhat at large upon his conversation -with sundry retainers and vassals of the Count whom he had summoned in -the course of his ride to present themselves at the castle on the -following day.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such details of all that was said by the peasantry were usually very -much desired by the Count, whose jealous and suspicious disposition -made him eager to glean every little indication of the feelings and -sentiments of the people towards him, but on the present occasion -Seckendorf's long-winded narrative seemed to weary and irritate him, -and after many not very complimentary interjections, he stopped him, -saying, "There, there, that will do; there will be enough, doubtless, -both of geese and asses, capons and boors;" and he remained standing -with his eyes fixed upon the ground, in thought.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear, my good lord," said the bluff old soldier, who generally took -the liberty of saying what he liked, "that you have not been very -successful in your expedition; for you seem to have come home in a -mighty ill humour--I suppose the money isn't so much as you expected."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no; it is not that," answered the Count, "I never expected any -till this morning, so it is all pure gain, and a good large sum too, -when it arrives. Heaven send it come safe! for Count Frederick has not -brought it with him, but trusted it to some of the lazy merchants of -Pisa.--No, no, it isn't that, Seckendorf. But there are things I love -not about this place. By Heaven! I have a great mind to take a torch, -set fire to yon old rafters, and burn the whole of it to the ground."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Better do that to your enemy's mansion than your own," answered -Seckendorf, drily, and a good deal surprised at his lord's vehemence.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, but my enemy has a house that won't burn," answered the Count. -"You can't burn the grave, Seckendorf,--that's a vain effort. What I -mean is, that these stories of spirits and unearthly beings wandering -here and there around us, oppress me, Seckendorf. Why should I call -them stories? Have I not seen? Do I not know?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, and I have seen, too," answered Seckendorf; "but I never knew you -had, my good lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, this very night," continued the Count, grasping his arm tight, -and speaking in a low tone, "as I came through the woods, wherever I -turned my eyes, I saw nought but dim figures, flitting about amongst -the trees; none distinct enough to trace either form or feature, but -still sufficiently clear to show that the tale of the peasants and the -women is but too true--."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Peasants and women, Sir!" cried Seckendorf. "Knights and soldiers, -too, if you please. Why, within the last two months, ghosts have been -as plenty in the castle as holly berries on the hills. 'Tis but this -very night, that, as I stood talking to Bertha about her lady's -illness, here where we now stand--just in the twilight, between day -and night--a tall, lank figure, in long, thin, flowing robes,--it -might be in a shroud, for ought I know--crossed from that door to -that, and disappeared. We both of us saw it, for her scream made me -turn round. So you see the very hall itself is not safe. There should -always be a tankard of red wine standing here--for I've heard that -spirits will not come near red wine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Methinks we should soon find plenty of ghosts to drink it," answered -the Count, with a bitter laugh. "But it is very strange. I have done -nought to merit this visitation."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Something must be done to remedy it, my good lord," replied -Seckendorf, "that is clear, or they will drive us out of this hall as -they drove us out of the old one--That's to say, I suppose it was the -ghosts drove us out of that; for though you did not say why you left -it, all men suspected you had seen something."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count took a step or two backwards and forwards in the room, and -then pausing opposite to Seckendorf, he replied, "No, my good friend, -I saw nought there but in fancy. Yet was the fancy very strong! Each -time I stood in that hall alone, it seemed as if my brother came and -stood beside me; walked as I walked; and when I sat, placed himself -opposite, glaring at me with the cold glassy eyes of death. It was -fancy--I know it was fancy; for once I chased the phantom back against -the bare cold wall, and there it disappeared; but yet the next night -it was there again.--Why should it thus torment me," he continued -vehemently. "I slew him not; I ordered no one to slay him; I have done -him no wrong." And he walked quickly up and down the room again, while -Seckendorf followed more slowly, repeating,</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, my good lord, it's clear something must be tried to stop this, -or we shan't get soldiers to stay in the castle. The rascals don't -mind fighting anything of flesh and blood, but they are not fond of -meeting with a thing when they don't know what it is. So I thought it -the best way to speak with Father George about it, and ask him to lay -my ghost--I've had enough of it, and don't wish to see such a thing -any more."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You did wrong--you did wrong, Seckendorf," answered his lord. "I do -not wish these monks to meddle, they will soon be fancying that some -great crime has been committed, and putting us all to penance, if not -worse. We must find means to lay the ghost ourselves--spirit or devil, -or whatever it may be."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, my good lord, the only way is to laugh at it," answered -Seckendorf. "I dare say one may become familiar with it in time, -though it's ugly enough at first. One gets accustomed to everything, -and why not to a ghost? We'll jest at him; and if he comes near me, -I'll throw the stool at his head, and see if that will lay him--I am -very sorry I spoke to Father George, if it displeases you; but, -however, there's not much harm done, for the grey gowns of the abbey -know everything that goes on; and the devil himself can't conceal his -game from them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Too much, too much," answered the Count; "they're the pests of the -land, prying and spying, and holding their betters in subjection. We -are but the vassals of these monks, Seckendorf; and if I had my will, -I'd burn their rookery about their ears."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, here comes Karl von Mosbach," cried Seckendorf, glad to escape -giving an answer to his lord's diatribe against the monks, for whom he -retained all the superstitious veneration of an earlier period. "Ay, -and the Lady Adelaide, too! Why, bless your beautiful eyes, yon girl -there told me you were ill, fair lady!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have been somewhat indisposed, but I am well again now," answered -Adelaide, advancing to her father. The Count, however, took little -notice of her, calling Bertha to him, and making her give an account -of what she and Seckendorf had seen.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fancy, fancy, my dear father," cried Adelaide, when the girl had -done, laughing much more joyously than was her wont. "These tales are -told and listened to, till the eyes become accomplices of the -imagination, and both combine to cheat us. Bertha came down in the -grey twilight, to say that I was ill; and I will warrant, went -trembling along the dark passages, and taking every suit of armour, -and every shadow through the window, of soldier or of warder passing -without, for a grim spirit in a shroud."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay, dear lady," cried Bertha, and was about to defend herself, -but the Count cut her short, turning to his daughter with a smile, and -saying, "So these tales have not infected your fancy, Adelaide. You -have no fears of ghosts or spirits?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not I, indeed," answered the lady. "First, because I have never seen -them, and next, because I know they would not hurt me, if I did. If -they be unsubstantial they cannot harm me; and if I be innocent, they -would not seek to do so, if they could. I fear them not, my father, -and I only pray, if any are seen more, I may be called to behold them -too."</p> - -<p class="normal">The fair girl spoke more boldly and more lightly than she usually did, -and through the rest of the evening the same cheerful spirit did not -leave her. Seated with her father at the last meal of the day, she -cheered him with conversation, and asked many a question regarding -Count Frederick of Leiningen, and those he brought in his train.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is none that will fit thee for a husband, I fear, my child," -replied the Count who for the time had caught a portion of his -daughter's gaiety. "They are all bluff old soldiers, like Seckendorf -or Mosbach there. Even his very jester is white-headed, and his dwarf -like a withered pippin."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Methinks it would not be easy to jest if one were old," said -Adelaide. "Gravity and age, I have always thought twin sisters."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," replied the Count, "that is because you know nought of the -world, dear girl. Why Count Frederick himself is just the same gay, -joyous soul as ever, and is as old as I am, or a year older. Now, I -dare say, to your young eyes, I seem to have reached a vast antiquity, -for it is only in looking back that space seems short. It appears but -yesterday that I was a boy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I do not think you so very old," replied his daughter, smiling, -"when I set you against Seckendorf, you seem but a youth."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But when you compare me with Ferdinand," replied her father, -laughing, "I am quite an old man. Is it not so, child?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide neither answered nor coloured, as might have been perhaps -expected, but smiled faintly and fell into thought; for it is -wonderful what a vast chain of associations is very often spread out -before the mind, by a few very simple words; and those associations -are nine times out of ten totally different from any that the speaker -intended to awaken.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was so in this case. The comparison of her lover's light and active -youth, with the gay rose upon the cheek, the glossy unchanged hair, -the movements full of elastic life, the eye lighted up with that -heart's fire, which, like the watcher's lamp, grows slowly dimmer with -each passing hour, and her pale, thoughtful father, with his stern -look, his rigid air, his hair thickly scattered with the snow of time, -went on to take in the two elder men where the progress of decay had -passed its first stage; and at each step her fancy halted to ask, "And -will he whom I love soon be like this--and this?" Her father had said, -it seemed but yesterday that he was a boy; and Adelaide thought, "It -may be but to-morrow ere I look back upon these days and feel the -same." From time to time a sudden consciousness of the great truth, -that mortal life is but a point amidst eternity, seems to burst upon -us and is then lost again--the whisper of an angel drowned in the -tumult of earthly hopes and fears.</p> - -<p class="normal">Before she had roused herself from her reverie, Seckendorf had taken -up the conversation, saying, "And so, my good lord, Count Frederick is -as gay and jovial as ever? I remember you and him, and the late Count, -your brother, all curly headed boys together--two merry ones and one -grave one; for you were always more serious than the rest."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because I had less cause for merriment," replied the Count, with a -cloud coming over his brow. "They wanted to make a priest of me at -that time, Seckendorf; and it was not to my taste--But do not let us -talk of those days. The past is always a sad subject. You will see our -friend to-morrow; for he will be here ere nightfall, and may stop a -week or more, so that we must have all things prepared. The great -hall, too, must be made ready; for we shall not have room here. The -casements must be mended early to-morrow; and the dust cleaned off the -walls and banners."</p> - -<p class="normal">Seckendorf did not answer, but looked at the Count stedfastly, with an -inquiring air, in reply to which his lord nodded, saying, "It must be -done."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By my faith! my good lord," cried Karl von Mosbach, "you won't get -many people willing to do it; for every one says that the hall is -haunted; and we love not even passing by the door."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We will have it sprinkled with holy water," replied the Count, -somewhat bitterly; "but do not tell me that any of my men will refuse -to obey my orders, or I will shame you all by a girl."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was no reply; and the Count demanded angrily, addressing himself -to none in particular, "Are you afraid? Here, Adelaide, will you -undertake to deck the hall with flowers, and strew the floor with -rushes?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Willingly, willingly, my dear father," answered the fair girl; "and -you shall see how gaily I will trick it out."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I beseech you, my lord, to pardon me," said Ferdinand, "but I am not -afraid at all to obey anything that you command; and I can very well -spare the Lady Adelaide the trouble in the hall; if she will but -wreathe the garlands for me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have a heart of steel, good youth," replied the Count; "what if I -tell you now to go and bring me the banner which hangs between the -shields at the farther end of the hall?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will do it at once, my lord," replied Ferdinand, rising.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count fixed his eyes upon him, and Adelaide also gazed at him -earnestly. The young man's cheek might lose a shade of colour; but -still he seemed perfectly willing; and his lord nodded, saying, "Go!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must take a light, or I may not be able to get down the banner," -replied Ferdinand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The moon shines clear through the casements," answered the Count. -"You will need no other light."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man made no reply, but drew his sword-belt a little forward -and walked calmly to the door. One or two of the men followed him out -of the room; not with the intention of accompanying him; for none of -them very much liked the task, but merely with the idle curiosity of -seeing him cross the passages and enter the hall. In a minute or two -they returned; and one of them said, "He has got in, my lord, but -whether he will come out again, I can't tell."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Got in!" repeated the Count, "What do you mean, Ernst?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, we watched him from the stone steps," replied the soldier, "and -he lifted the latch and shook the door, but at first it would not -open. After a while, however, it was suddenly flung back, and in he -went."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did he close it behind him?" asked the Count, and Adelaide gazed -anxiously on the man's face, in expectation of his answer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Some one did," replied the soldier, "but I can't tell whether it was -he or not."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying he took his seat again at the table, and all remained -silent for several minutes, waiting with different degrees of anxiety -for the result.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The boy is mad," murmured Seckendorf, to himself, after two or three -more minutes had elapsed; and then he added aloud, "Hundred thousand! -we must not leave this lad to be strangled by the ghosts, or devils, -or whatever they are, my lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will go myself," replied the Count, rising from the table; "let -those who will, follow me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, let us get some torches," cried Karl von Mosbach.</p> - -<p class="normal">But just at that moment there was a clang which shook the whole -castle; and while the party assembled gazed on each other's faces in -doubt and consternation, the door of the hall in which they were was -thrown quickly open, and Ferdinand entered bearing a banner in his -hand. His face was very pale; but his brow was stern and contracted, -and advancing direct towards the Count, who had come down from the -step on which his table was raised, he laid the banner before him.</p> - -<p class="normal">His lord gazed from the banner to his face, and from his face back to -the banner, which was torn and soiled, and stained in many places with -blood. "How is this?" he exclaimed, at length. "This is not what I -sent you for!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is the banner, my lord," replied Ferdinand; "which was hanging -between the two shields at the farther end of the hall, over your -chair of state."</p> - -<p class="normal">Old Seckendorf bent down over the tattered silk, on which was -embroidered a lion with its paw upon a crescent; and as he did so, he -murmured, with a shake of the head, "Your brother's banner, Sir, which -he carried with him to the East."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What have you seen?" demanded the Count, sinking his voice, and -fixing his eyes upon the young man's countenance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not now, my lord," replied Ferdinand, in the same low tone; "another -time, when you are alone, and have leisure."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count made no reply, but seated himself at the table, and leaned -his head thoughtfully upon his hand for a moment or two, while the -rest of the party remained in groups around, some gazing from a -distance at the banner, some looking at it more closely, but none -speaking in a louder tone than a low whisper. It was not, indeed, that -they were kept silent by any ceremonious respect for their lord; for -those were days of much homely freedom of demeanour; and that distance -and reserve did not exist between a chief and his followers which a -higher and more fastidious state of civilization has introduced. But -there was a feeling of awe approaching to terror, in the bosoms of -all, which oppressed them in their speech. Each asked himself, what -could this mysterious event mean? how had the banner come where it was -found? what did it all portend? for none, in those days of -superstition, doubted that the event which had just taken place was an -omen of others yet to come. The pale cheek with which Ferdinand of -Altenburg had returned, too, and his grave stern look, as he stood by -the table where he had lately been sitting, attracted observation, and -led every one to believe that there was more to be told, though they -had not heard his reply to their lord's question.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, however, to the surprise of all, the Count suddenly shook -off his gloomy and abstracted look, and pushed across the flagon of -choice wine, which stood at his right, to his young follower, saying, -with a laugh, "Come, drink a cup of wine to me, Ferdinand the -ghost-queller. By the Lord! there is not a braver man amongst us than -thou art, boy. Would to Heaven! that all here would follow thine -example. I, for one, will do so, and think no more of these strange -things than if they were but the whisperings of the wind through the -trees. Drink, good youth! drink."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand filled a cup and drank to his lord; and the next moment the -Count rose again, exclaiming, "Now, to bed, to bed, we must all be up -by cock-crow for our preparations. I will sup in the old hall -to-morrow, if all the devils on the earth or under it should be its -tenants;" and thus saying he left the room, followed quickly by -Ferdinand, who did not choose to undergo the questionings of his -comrades. The others remained for a few minutes, shaking the wise head -and commenting gravely; and then by threes and fours quitted the hall, -and retired to rest; but there was much oil burned in the Castle of -Ehrenstein that night.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The Count of Ehrenstein tossed uneasily on his bed, in that state -between sleeping and waking, when the mind neither enjoys quiet -repose, nor yet lives as an active being dissevered from the body, in -continuous and regular dreams--when scattered and disjointed fragments -of visions cross the imagination--when voices call and suddenly sink -away from the ear--when figures appear for an instant, and are lost -before we can accurately see what they are. Often his bosom heaved and -panted, as if oppressed with some terrible load. Often murmured words -and smothered cries broke low and indistinctly from his lips. Often -the eyeballs would roll under their filmy curtain, as if some sight of -horror presented itself to fancy.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length the grey light of day streamed through the narrow window, -and fell upon the sleeping man's countenance; and then having turned -for a moment from side to side, he started up and gazed towards the -casement, with a bewildered look, as if he knew not where he was. -After leaning his head upon his hand, and apparently thinking deeply -for several minutes, he rose and dressed himself without aid. Then -walking to the little dark anteroom, in which two of his attendants, -or <i>knechts</i>, were sleeping, he drew back the bolt of the door--for -his was not a heart without suspicion--and stirred one of the men with -his foot, as he lay upon the ground, bidding him go and tell Ferdinand -of Altenburg to come down upon the eastern rampart immediately. Having -given these orders, he himself issued forth, and walked slowly up and -down, now casting his eyes upon the stones beneath his feet, now -gazing at the rising sun. But few minutes had elapsed, however, ere -Ferdinand was at his side, and the Count turned towards him, saying, -"What! up so early? You should have no dreams, young man, to break -your rest."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, my lord," replied Ferdinand, "every one dreams, I suppose. Have -you been disturbed?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That have I," answered the Count. "I have seldom passed a more -troublous night, and yet I was weary, too, when I went to rest."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Were they good or evil visions, my lord," asked the young man. "Mine -were all bright."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Would that mine had been so!" answered the Count. "But they were wild -and whirling things, and 'tis no matter--and yet these undigested -thoughts," he continued, after a short pause, "these fanciful nothings -of the dreaming brain, trouble us as much at the time as fierce -realities--nay, perhaps more. I have suffered more bitterly, at -times, in some dark vision of the night--yes, even in my corporeal -frame,--than even choking death itself could inflict. I cannot but -think that there is a land to which the spirits of the sleeping travel -for a time, and undergo a strange and wayward fate, till they are -called back again. I've often fancied there must be such a place: a -kingdom of dreams, as it were, to which all the strange actions and -thoughts of the world are sent as soon as done, as a sort of commodity -or merchandise, and there are mingled up by some fantastic power with -the productions of the land itself. There go the images of the dead, -the voices that are lost upon the earth, the passionate loves and -follies of our youth, the thirsty ambition of our manhood, the crimes -and the temptations of all years, even the very thoughts of infancy, -and there we find them all, when the spirit is summoned from the -slumbering body to visit that strange country. Else, how is it, that -when we lie with darkness all around us, no sight, no sound, no scent, -to wake up memory, things long forgotten, faces that no effort of the -waking mind could call before the eye of fancy, voices that have long -ceased to ring in the deafened ear of forgetfulness, come upon us, all -strong and vivid as reality; ay, even the feelings also no longer -suited to our state of being, totally dissonant to the condition of -our corporeal frame or to our mental age:--such as the joys and -pastimes of our early boyhood, and the prattled pleasures of our baby -days? Yet there they all are--bright as if in life, though strangely -mixed with other wilder things, and cast into mad impossible array. -Last night it seemed as if every action of my life, charmed by some -frantic Orpheus, danced around me in wild and grotesque forms--never -pausing till I had leisure to taste one joy, or power to resist one -pang. Would to Heaven! I could be a boy again, and, with the knowledge -of each act's results, live over life anew--It would be a very -different one!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand had let him proceed without observation or question; indeed -he was too much surprised to answer, for he had never before heard the -Count speak thus to any one. It seemed, in truth, more as if he were -talking to himself than to his companion; as if the weight of thought -overpowered him, and he cast down the burden where he could. But the -young man's surprise was not less excited by the matter of the -confidence, than by the confidence itself. He knew the Count was -learned far beyond most of the nobles of his day. He knew that he was -thoughtful; but he had ever seemed in disposition, worldly, grasping, -avaricious; evil qualities, as he thought, perfectly incompatible with -fancy. In his inexperience of the world, he was not aware how -frequently habits of thought and of desire often produced in us by the -operation of a long train of ruling circumstances--overbear the -natural bent of the mind, and lead us to a course of life, and to -innumerable actions, utterly inharmonious with the original tone of -the character. It is so; and there is scarcely any man who is not thus -walled in by circumstances in his course; scarcely any tree that, -however upright its original shoot, is not bent by the prevailing -wind. Nevertheless, when the mind is left free for a moment from the -habitual influences,--when the passions that have been indulged are -not called into play,--when the desires that have usurped a sway over -us, are for a time without either object or opposition, the original -character of the mind is suffered to indulge itself for a brief space, -like a prisoner allowed a few moments of free air. So was it with the -Count of Ehrenstein. Busy with the thoughts which had succeeded to his -dreams, he forgot not only his motives for sending for the young man -at his side, but also his habitual reserve; and led from one feeling -to another, as he discoursed imaginatively of the visions of the -night, he was hurried on to admit those sensations of regret which, -sooner or later, visit every one of Adam's race, but which the pride -that entered in us at the Fall forbids us to acknowledge.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand had walked on by his side, thoughtful and interested, with -his eyes, too, bent down upon the pavement of the rampart, and eager -to hear more. But soon after the Count paused, the young man brought -the confession, if it may be so called, to a conclusion, by asking a -question which would naturally rise in any simple and straightforward -heart, saying,--"Is it not very easy to repair, my lord, that which -has been done amiss?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no, youth," answered the Count, turning upon him, and speaking -almost bitterly, "that is a foolish error. It is never possible to -repair aught that has been done amiss. Each act, once performed, is -irrevocable. It is more,--it is a foundation-stone upon which, under -the lash of the stern taskmaster, Fate, we must, whether we will or -not, build up a part of the fabric of our life. Now do not go, silly -boy! and from what I have said raise up in your fanciful brain a -belief that I have committed great crimes, and bitterly repent them. -It is with me as with all men who have power to think, and who try -from the past to extract guidance for the future. I see small errors -producing greater evils; I see pitiful mistakes, which were thought -nothing at first, swelling with bitter consequences,--but nothing -more. Every man, Ferdinand," and he laid his hand upon his shoulder -with a sort of monitory gesture, "every man who has passed through a -great part of life, is like one who has climbed a mountain and is -destined to descend on the other side. If he turns round to look at -the country he has travelled, he sees it spread forth beneath him, -with all its roads and passes, rivers and valleys, laid out as in a -map, and he will ever find he has often lost his way; that there were -paths which would have led him to his object shorter than those he has -taken; that the objects on which he has fixed his eyes to guide him -on, were often wide of the right course; and, in a word, that he has -not accomplished, in, the summer day of life, one-half he might have -done, with less labour, and by easier means. And now let us speak of -other things. You would not say last night what you had seen in the -old hall; now tell me what befell you there. We were then in the hour -of fanciful conceits, when the imagination wanders and easily receives -false impressions. We are now in the broad light of the real day, and -you can better tell, and I can better understand whatever you may have -witnessed there."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did not wish to speak last night, my lord," replied Ferdinand, in a -clam and easy tone, "because all the people about us have filled -themselves with fears which would be quite as well away; and all I had -to say would only have made them more afraid. I went straight to the -hall as you directed--I do not mean to say that I would not rather -have had a light--but neither flesh nor spirit shall turn me from -doing what I have undertaken to perform. I found the door fastened, -however, and after having lifted the latch, I shook it hard, but it -did not give way. For a minute, I thought of coming back to tell you; -but then I fancied that you and the rest might doubt me, and I tried -again. Just then I think I heard a heavy grating sound, but, however, -the door opened, and I went in. At first I could hardly see--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, the moon shone, and must have given plenty of light through the -windows," replied the Count.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There was too much light, my good lord," answered Ferdinand. "I came -out of the dark vestibule, and when I entered the hall, it was all in -a blaze of light. The suits of old armour that stand against the wall -had, each one, a gauntleted hand extended, and in it was a torch. It -seemed, indeed, that there were more suits than usual, but I did not -stay to count them, for as soon as I could see, I hurried on, passing -the table where they were seated--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who?" exclaimed the Count, "who were seated?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, my lord, I cannot tell you," answered Ferdinand. "Some six or -eight tall figures, each wrapped in a strange garment like a shroud, -dusty and soiled; as if they had lain long in the earth, covering the -head, and falling down to the eyes. My heart felt very heavy, and beat -fast, and I dared not look narrowly at them. But I drew my sword, and -hurried on, mounting into the great chair to reach the banner; when, -just as I laid my hand upon it, the voices of those round the table -said, 'Health to the Count of Ehrenstein! health to the living dead!' -and looking round, I saw that they had cups raised high, as if they -were pursuing their unearthly wassail without seeing or noticing my -presence. I felt somewhat faint and sick, but I tore down the banner, -breaking, I fear, the rest that held it, and hurried out as fast as I -could go. As I paused to take breath, I heard a loud clang behind, but -what it was I do not know."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We will see, we will see," said the Count, sternly; "six or eight, -did you say?</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, my good lord, at the least," replied Ferdinand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Can there be some trick in this?" rejoined the Count, and fell into a -fit of deep thought, which occupied him for several minutes. "And yet -all the men were in the hall," he continued, evidently showing which -way his suspicions turned. "I marked the absence of none, except the -horse boys."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They would not dare, my lord," replied Ferdinand. "There is scarce a -man in the whole castle would venture thither in the broad day, and -surely none at night."</p> - -<p class="normal">"True, true," rejoined the Count, "but yet they shall venture thither -if I live till supper time. What could this clang be that followed -your coming out? We all heard it, even at that distance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I shall soon see, my lord, if it have left any trace behind it, for -should you hold your intention of feasting in the hall to-night, they -shall not stop me from decking it forth as I have promised."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You seem right willing to venture with these ghosts," said the Count, -with his habitual sharp suspicion.</p> - -<p class="normal">"They have done me no harm as yet, my lord," answered Ferdinand -boldly, well understanding what was passing in the Count's mind. "When -you have seen some such sight yourself, you will believe, but, -doubtless, not till then. I would not myself unless I had seen."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I will try," replied the Count. "Come with me now, and perhaps -we may discover what was the cause of this clatter, which shook the -whole castle as you were returning."</p> - -<p class="normal">He spoke somewhat scornfully, and Ferdinand made no reply, but -followed as his lord led on, with hasty strides, as if either -impatient to see the state of the hall with his own eyes, or fearful -that his resolution would fail before his intention was fulfilled.</p> - -<p class="normal">On their way they passed through the lesser hall, where their meals -were now usually taken, and thence through a long stone passage, which -crossed the entrance from the great gates, down a broad flight of -steps, and into the vestibule by one of the smaller doors opposite to -that the great hall. There the Count paused for a moment, as if he -hesitated, then putting his hand upon the latch, he lifted it, and -flung back the ponderous mass of wood-work, which yielded at once to -his hand. With an eager and straining gaze, his eye ran round the wide -vaulted chamber, which was vacant of every living thing; but still the -sight that it presented offered strange confirmation of the tale which -Ferdinand had told. The twelve suits of old armour, no longer in the -mode and fashion of the time, which had been for many years ranged -along the wall opposite to the windows, upon wooden standards that -kept them in an erect position, were now cast prone upon the pavement, -and the lances, swords, and axes, which had been arranged in fanciful -devices, between them, were likewise strewed upon the ground as if -they had been flung down at once by an earthquake. The old banners -remained waving overhead, but that which had formerly hung over the -chair of state, and which the Count had sent Ferdinand to fetch on the -preceding night, was no longer to be seen. The chair which had been -the only piece of furniture left in the hall, stood there still, with -its cushion of crimson velvet, affording a strange contrast to the air -of desolation presented by the whole of the rest of the scene; the -broken casements, the mouldering banners, the rusty suits of armour -cast down, and the disjointed pavement, with the green grass growing -up between the crevices of the stone.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count took a step across the threshold, and then stopped short, -repeating several times, "This is very strange!" To have supposed that -Ferdinand himself had cast the armour down, was out of the question, -for it would have taken him half an hour to do it, and the first -impression upon the Count's mind was evidently one of awe, if not of -terror. But still there seemed to be doubts, or else he thought fit to -assume them to cover the emotions which he really felt; for after -remaining for several minutes in the same position, he turned suddenly -round to his young companion, inquiring, "Where sat these things you -saw? Here is neither board nor bench, for them to hold their revels."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand's face was very grave, and even sad, but he replied at once, -walking some ten paces forward, to a spot on the left-hand side of the -hall; "Here they were seated, my lord, or appeared to be so."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count followed him, and gazed upon the ground. "They have left no -traces of their presence," he said, at length, and then looking up to -the vacant space where his banner had formerly hung, he asked, "And -did you really take that thing you brought me from that place. The -rest does not seem broken."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thought I heard it break, my lord," replied the young man, walking -on towards the chair; but then, stopping as he came up to it, he said, -"Here are the marks of my feet, my lord, in the dust upon the -cushion."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well, I do not doubt you," said the Count, who had followed; -and then crossing his arms upon his chest, he fell into thought again, -from which he did not rouse himself for a long time. In the end he -exclaimed, with a start, "He shall not drive me hence--I have done him -no wrong," and with a slow pace he trod his way back towards the door. -"There, that will do," he continued, as Ferdinand followed him out; "I -do not want you more; say nothing of what has happened to any one; and -go fly your hawk, or wheel your horse till breakfast time; I will -speak to you further afterwards."</p> - -<p class="normal">When the hour of breakfast came, and the household were assembled in -the hall, the Count again called Ferdinand up to his own table, and -seemed to regard him with much more favour than he had ever done -before; but the young man remarked that his lord's eye wandered round -the chamber in which they sat, and then rested on the groups of his -followers and attendants, as if calculating whether, with the numbers -which were to be added that day to the party there assembled, the hall -where they then were would contain them all. A fairer object of -contemplation, indeed, was before the young man's eyes, for he was -seated opposite to the Lady Adelaide, on Seckendorf's left hand. She -was a little paler, perhaps, than on the preceding morning, but that -was the only trace which her temporary sickness seemed to have left. -She was more than commonly gay; indeed, though there was a thoughtful -and a feeling tone mingled with her cheerfulness, making it like the -song of a lark, in which, though blithe and happy on the whole, may be -heard sad minor tones by any ear that listens for them.</p> - -<p class="normal">When the meal was over, the Count rose, saying, "Come with me, -Ferdinand. Come hither, Adelaide;" and walking forth, he led the way -to the corridor above, into which the different apartments occupied by -himself, his daughter, and the maids, opened either directly, or -through their several anterooms. There, after taking a turn backwards -and forwards, he turned to his two young companions, who had followed, -speaking with their looks, and said, "To you two I must trust the -arrangement of the great hall for our guests this evening. It is vain -to ask these dastardly men below, who are frightened at mere shadows; -and the other hall will not hold one-half--that is clear enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, ask them not, my dear father," answered Adelaide. "I and -Ferdinand can do it all, and we have no fears."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good faith! dear lady," rejoined Ferdinand, "though I fear not, yet I -somewhat doubt whether unaided we can accomplish all, at least in -time. The armour has somehow fallen down, many of the lozenges of -glass require to be replaced, and, in truth, I hardly know how I am to -manage that. All the rest we might accomplish easily enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That shall be done for you," said the Count, "if you and Adelaide can -do the rest. I would not have my jesting friend and his gay followers -come hither, and say, that they found the Castle of Ehrenstein in -ruins, and its banquet hall as if it never saw a feast. Do the best -you can to give it some air of cheerfulness, wreathe the crescets and -corbels with flowers--there are many in the woods just now--and with -green branches; strew the pavement over thickly with rushes, so that -no flaws be seen. As I go, I will send one to repair the casements who -would beard the devil himself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He must come from far, my lord," answered Ferdinand, "for all the -people near have got this tale. I first heard it down at the Abbey; -and not one of the people of the village, I believe, would come up to -save his soul."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not very far either," replied the Count; "within a mile of the Abbey, -on the other side. You know Franz Creussen, the great blacksmith? -He'll not fear, I warrant. Why look you so surprised, youth?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because, my lord, I one day heard you threaten to split his skull," -said Ferdinand, "when he refused to shoe your horses; and certainly he -never showed you any great reverence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It would take a sharp sword to split his skull," rejoined the Count. -"A thick-headed blockhead, as rude and as hard as the iron that he -hammers, but if he answers my purpose that is all I heed. He that -doesn't fear me within ten miles around, is not likely to be easily -frightened--I must set forth in half an hour, to meet my noble guest -by the way; and as I go, I'll speak to the man, so that he shall be up -before mid-day. Now, Adelaide, my child, go with your girls and gather -the flowers and tender branches, so that you may make the dull old -hall look light and cheerful as yourself, for there will we all sup -to-night, even if the fiend says, Nay."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he left her standing with Ferdinand. It is strange--it is -very strange, that blindness which in some circumstances comes over -the most clear-sighted upon the questions in which they feel the -deepest interest. But yet it is so common--I might say, so -invariable--that let no one think it unnatural the Count of Ehrenstein -should actually throw his daughter into the way of one to whom he -would never have consented to give her. It was perhaps because he -thought it impossible that such presumptuous love could enter into the -young man's thoughts, It was the blindest of all passions--pride that -dimmed even his keen eyes; and there he left them to the brief caress, -the low spoken words of love, the looks far more eloquent. They both -said they must part at once, yet they both lingered; they both thought -it was no use to risk aught by staying there when they were to meet -again so soon in the old hall, yet the near future could not win them -from the sweet present. They both knew it was dangerous to be seen in -close companionship, and yet the hands met and the thrilling fingers -clasped upon each other. Adelaide would fain hear what had befallen -Ferdinand in the old hall; and he answered by telling how he loved -her. She urged him to go, and to let her go, and he tried--oh, vain -endeavour!--to explain to her the burning thirst of a young lover's -heart to be near her he loves. He told her that one might as well -expect the parched traveller over the Syrian sands to forbear the well -as to ask him to quit her while she would stay; and Adelaide believed -it without difficulty. They said much one way or another, and yet -their conference was not long; for some noise upon the staircase -scared them, and with a fresh spring of joy in their hearts from their -brief interview, they parted for the time and hurried to their several -tasks with the glad hope of meeting soon again.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER VIII.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand was busy at his work about a quarter of an hour after the -Count of Ehrenstein had ridden forth with his train. The castle was -left even more empty than the day before, for Seckendorf and his party -had gone with their lord, and none of the feudal retainers of the -house had yet arrived. Some grooms and horse-boys in the stables, and -eight or ten men on the walls, or in the courts, were all that -remained behind, besides the young gentleman himself; and they were -not at all disposed to aid or interrupt him by their presence in a -place which they all viewed with dread, even when they passed it at a -distance. Many were their comments, indeed, upon his daring; and -several of those comments were by no means favourable to their young -lady's lover, for while some of the men wondered how Master Ferdinand -was getting on, without venturing to go and see, others went the -length of supposing that he must have either some amulet from the Holy -Land, which was a charm against spirits, or a plain compact with the -evil one, which gave him the command over them for a time.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean while, Ferdinand worked away at his unaccustomed -occupation, perhaps not quite so dexterously as if he had been an -armourer's man, or a groom of the chambers to some great lord; but he -did it cheerfully, and without apprehension; for the gay sunbeams -shone through the dim casements and chequered the old mouldy pavement -with a bright fretwork of light and shade. His heart, too, felt very -summery, for there was hope within, and the expectation of love. -Everything was done quickly, too, for he fancied that he might not be -long without the presence of one he loved, and thought that every -moment thus busily employed might well purchase one of sweeter -occupation.</p> - -<p class="normal">His first task was to raise the different suits of armour from the -ground, and fix them in their places again. Nor was this an easy -undertaking, for, in many cases, the thongs and buckles had given way -in the fall, and the several pieces were scattered about, and had to -be re-united. Nevertheless, he worked on zealously, stooping over the -quaint old garments of steel, lifting their ponderous masses, and ever -and anon casting back from his face the thick, glossy curls of his -hair, as they fell over his brow and eyes. He showed no signs of fear, -notwithstanding the strange sights which he had seen on the two -preceding nights; he never started at the sound of the wind; he never -turned to give the timid glance over his shoulder towards the door -leading to the vaults; but more than once he looked towards the other -entrance of the hall, and listened for any sound from the vestibule. -At length, as he was raising one of the suits of harness, where the -rusty gauntlet and vantbrace were still stretched out, as he had seen -them on his previous visit, some white spots upon the steel, seemed to -catch his eye, and to awaken a train of new and interesting ideas, for -he paused in his work, and with his hand to his brow, remained in deep -thought for several minutes, with a smile upon his lips.</p> - -<p class="normal">As he thus stood, the sound of voices speaking near the door was -heard, and it was gently pushed open, while the well-known tones of -Bertha exclaimed,--"I would not go in for Neustadt, and you do not -want me, either, dear lady,--you know you do not; but I'll stay here -and watch against any ghosts on this side. I'll open that other door, -however, and have more light; for spirits don't like the daylight, and -I don't like the dark."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, stay there,--stay there, then," answered Adelaide; "I can carry -in the wreaths myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ere she concluded, Ferdinand was by her side, and, raising up the -flowers and young branches which Bertha and her mistress had brought -thither, he carried them in and laid them down upon the pavement of -the hall. Bertha's merry eye was first turned, with a somewhat timid -and apprehensive glance, towards the interior of the chamber, and -then, with a meaning smile, to Ferdinand's countenance. As soon, -however, as the lady had followed her lover in, the discreet damsel -closed the door, murmuring to herself--"Well, love's the best charm -against evil spirits, after all! Heigho!--I wish I had somebody to -love!".</p> - -<p class="normal">By this time, Ferdinand's hand clasped that of Adelaide; but I have -noticed before that a strange change had come over the fair girl since -their meeting on the preceding day; and that change was more apparent -now than ever. All doubt, all timidity seemed to be banished. There -was no boldness, it is true, for modest gentleness seemed an inherent -part of her nature; but the fear, the anxiety, the hesitation of -unconfirmed and perilous love, no longer had any influence over her. -When Ferdinand's hand clasped hers, she laid the other upon it, gazing -in his eyes with a warm and affectionate light beaming in her own, and -saying with a thoughtful, if not absent air, as if the question she -put was as much to her own heart as to him,--"You love me, dear -Ferdinand,--is it not so? And you will ever love me, and never do -aught to grieve me, nor let others grieve me, if you can help it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Can you doubt it, beloved?" cried Ferdinand, drawing her to him; "is -not my whole heart and being only love for you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I do not doubt it," answered Adelaide; "I will not doubt -it.--Yet I have heard tales of men vowing deep vows, and breaking -them; of their looking upon woman, and woman's love, but as a flower -to be gathered and cast away: but I will not believe it. No, no!--we -have known and loved in childhood, and we will love still. I will -trust you, dear Ferdinand,--I will trust you; only promise me that if -the time should ever come when deep grief and pain menaces your -Adelaide, and it is in your power, by any act, to avert it, you will -do so, whatever be the consequences."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Can you suppose I would hesitate?" exclaimed Ferdinand, eagerly; "but -I do promise, dear one!--I vow by all I hold sacred,--by all that is -dearest to me, that you shall never ask me aught that can remove a -grief from you, without my doing it at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thank you,--thank you," answered Adelaide, resting her face upon his -shoulder, while he kissed her soft cheek; "then I am happy!--then I am -all yours! I have longed for this moment to come, Ferdinand, for I -wished to say all that might be said; and to tell the truth, it was -for this opportunity I undertook so readily the task we have here to -perform."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And are you really not afraid, dear Adelaide?" asked her lover. "For, -certainly, here I have seen fearful sights, though I think it must be -a demon, indeed, that could harm you. Have you no fears?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"None, none, in the world," she answered, gaily; "I set all spirits at -defiance, Ferdinand, but the spirit of love; and it would have needed -somewhat more than imaginary terrors to keep me away from you to-day, -when we have so fair an opportunity of saying all that we could wish -to each other."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, not all," answered Ferdinand; "there is no day, no hour, when I -shall not have something more to say to you; if it be but to tell you, -again and again, how I love you, how I thank you.--But there may be -more, much more, to be said, dear Adelaide; there may be difficulties, -dangers, unforeseen circumstances; and even with Bertha's aid, it may -be impossible to communicate them to you fully and freely, without -seeing you and speaking to you myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, I will come to you," replied Adelaide, with a beaming -smile, as if to banish all his apprehensions, like mist before the -sun; "or if not, you shall come to me. I have no hesitation, I have no -doubt now. All yesterday, after we parted, I was full of gloomy -thoughts and dark apprehensions. I was like one wandering by night in -a wood, and losing his way, to whichever side he turns. I was doubtful -of myself, doubtful of you, doubtful of the past, doubtful of the -future; but that has vanished away, and I am all your own."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And what dispelled it?" asked Ferdinand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"One word," answered Adelaide; "but you must not question me farther. -I say I will come to you, or you shall come to me, at any hour, at any -season that it may be needful.--I know I can trust you," she -continued, gazing at him with a look grave and yet tender, and then -raising her eyes towards the sky, "I do believe, Ferdinand, that for -the best gift under Heaven's sun, you would not wrong your Adelaide in -word, or thought, or deed, and it is that trust, as well as some -necessity, that makes me promise you thus boldly to find means of -seeing you whenever you desire it. Should there be danger to either of -us, but especially to you, let me know it at once. Even if it be in -the dead of the night, I should not be frightened, Ferdinand, if I saw -you standing beside me,--ay, in the very spirit-walking time, when all -mortal eyes are closed in sleep. I am very sure--quite sure, that you -would not come without some real need, that no light motive would -bring you, to my risk and to yours, and therefore I am thus bold, for -love and confidence makes me so."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thank you, thank you, Adelaide. From my very heart I thank you," -replied her lover, "not alone for the dear privilege you grant me; but -from the trust that gives birth to the grant. You but judge me -rightly, dear one. Your fair form, beyond all mortal beauty, may well -charm my eyes; the touch of that dear hand, of that dear lip, may well -be prized before all that earth can give; but not for the joy of -heaven, my love, would I do aught that could tarnish the bright gem -within that lovely casket. Your very confidence is a bond upon me, far -stronger than your own reserve could be; and in your happiness, if I -could sow one regret, I should curse myself for ever."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But why should regret mingle with happiness?" asked Adelaide, half -gaily, half thoughtfully; "there must be some very wicked and some -very discontented people in the world, to make it so. It seems to me, -Ferdinand, that God has provided us with so many pleasures that can -produce no regret, that we should show ourselves unworthy of his -bounty did we seek others. Fields, gardens, mountains, forests, -streams, these flowers, the singing of the birds, the sunshine and the -sky, the very dreamlike clouds and their soft showers, the changes of -the seasons, music, thought,--calm, tranquil thought, the music of the -mind--and every form of meditation, whether it be upon our own strange -nature and mysterious destiny, or on God's mercy to his creatures, or -his great power and infinite wisdom--all these, ay Ferdinand, and -innocent love, too, are surely full of joy, unsoiled and imperishable. -They are like the notes of some tuneful instrument, each sweet in -itself, but doubly sweet by those that go before, and follow and -mingle with it in the harmony; and infinite, too, in change and in -variety. What needs man more, that he should sully with his evil what -God made pure and beautiful?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, dear girl, and from one joy you have named, all others receive a -tenfold brightness," answered Ferdinand; "innocent love has its own -light to add to all the rest."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know it, Ferdinand; I feel it," answered Adelaide, "and I scruple -not to tell you that I do; for once having said 'I love,' I have said -all--though I one time thought I could never bring my lips to utter -those two words."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And I must ask no questions," said Ferdinand, "for your thoughts are -changed, indeed, dear one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"None, none;" answered Adelaide, with a gay laugh. "And now we must to -our task, Ferdinand; for if they come and find it unperformed, they -may inquire in their own thoughts, how we have loitered so. Aid me to -hang up these garlands, and to fix the green branches on the walls, -and then I will go and seek the wreaths that Theresa is still -weaving."</p> - -<p class="normal">He did as she desired him, moving the great chair of state for her -tiny feet to climb and hang the flowers on every prominent place that -would hold them; and often he mounted thither too, and supported her, -lest she should fall, with the arm cast lightly round her waist, and -the hands, as they came in contact, when stretched out to reach the -projecting beam, or cast the garland over the wood-work, often clasped -together with the gentle pressure of warm love; and if, from time to -time, they paused for a moment or two to speak of the things of their -own hearts, their pleasant toil was resumed the instant after, and -proceeded the more quickly, from the happy spirit that was in both.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was a dream of love and joy, and the flowers which Adelaide had -brought were nearly all expended, when a rough voice was heard talking -to Bertha, without, and Ferdinand sprang down lightly from the chair, -and looked towards the door. It opened as he did so, and a man -entered, on whose appearance I must pause for a moment, as we may see -more of him hereafter.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER IX.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The personage who broke in upon the conversation of Ferdinand and -Adelaide must have been at least six or eight inches above the -ordinary height of the human race. Nevertheless, though he undoubtedly -looked a very tall man, and those who stood beside him felt themselves -like pigmies, yet at first sight he did not seem so tall as he really -was. Unlike most of those persons who deviate from the common -standard, either above or below, there was no disproportion in his -limbs, nor want of symmetry--the neck was not long, like that of a -crane, the form was not spare and meagre, the joints were not large -and heavy, the knees did not knock together as he walked. If there was -anything out of proportion, it was that the chest and upperpart of the -frame were even too broad and bulky; and the head was comparatively -small; but it was round and well-shaped, with a capacious forehead, -and the short brown hair curling round it like that of the Farnesian -Hercules. The features of the face were good, but somewhat short, and -the expression stern and bold. There were no wrinkles on that -countenance, except a deep furrow between the eyes; and yet, by those -indescribable indications which convince us of a fact without our well -knowing why, one judged in a moment that the man who entered was -between forty-five and fifty years of age, though everything in his -whole aspect and carriage denoted undiminished vigour and activity. -Here and there, indeed, in his beard and hair, might be traced a -single white line, but that was all that spoke the passing of years.</p> - -<p class="normal">The dress of this worthy personage was that of a handicraftsman of -moderate wealth. His coat was of untanned leather, slashed here and -there upon the arms--as was the custom of the times--and he wore -before him a great leathern apron blackened and soiled, apparently -with the labours of the forge. A little vanity, of the kind which the -French call coquetry, was observable in the covering of his head; -which was a cap or bonnet of black felt, bordered with a lace of gold; -the brim was somewhat broad, slashed in the forms of one of the Greek -mouldings, and turned back towards the crown, while a bunch of green -feathers, taken, not from the wing of the ostrich, but rather from -that of some more homely bird, stretched across the front, and leaned -towards his left shoulder. His shoes, or rather half boots, for they -came up to his ankle, were long, and pointed at the toe; and under one -arm he carried a number of pieces of lead and iron, while his right -hand was armed with a sledge hammer, which, wielded by him, might have -brained an elephant.</p> - -<p class="normal">Behind the blacksmith came a lad (bearing a basket, full of various -utensils of his trade), who, in any other situation, would have -appeared a good-sized, comely youth, but who, by his side, looked a -mere dwarf; and such was the effect of the man's appearance, that -Adelaide, who had never beheld Franz Creussen before, turned somewhat -pale at the sight, though Ferdinand welcomed him with a good-humoured -smile of recognition, perhaps a little vexed that he had come so soon, -but not attributing any blame to him on that account.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha, ha, Master Ferdinand!" cried the giant, as soon as he saw him, -"good morning to you, Sir, I thought how it would be--Why don't you -help the lady? She can never get that bunch of flowers up there;" and -at the same time striding forward, and towering above Adelaide even as -she stood raised upon the chair, he stretched out his long, powerful -arm, and fixed the wreath upon the spot she could not reach.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You thought how what would be, Franz?" asked Ferdinand, who had -remarked a peculiar tone as the blacksmith spoke, and a glance of the -eye from himself to Adelaide.</p> - -<p class="normal">But Franz Creussen did not answer his question, going on in a rambling -manner. "So there are ghosts here, the Count tells me; and all the men -and women but you two are afraid. Let the ghosts come hither, and see -if I will not split their skulls with my hammer."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, Franz, I hardly thought you would come," answered Ferdinand; "I -heard you once tell the Count you would neither shoe his horses, nor -do work of any kind for him. I am glad to see you in a better humour."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I would not have come," answered the blacksmith, "only he told me -that all the people were afraid; and as I never yet saw a thing to be -afraid of, I came to look if I could find it here. But I must set to -work, Master Ferdinand.--God help us, how thou art grown! When I first -saw thee, thou wert scarce half an ell high, and now thou art above my -shoulder."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand smiled, for though he was certainly above the blacksmith's -shoulder, he was not much higher, and had no reason to believe he -would ever rise above the height he had attained. Franz Creussen, -however, turned abruptly to his work, and with the aid of his boy, -soon unhinged the latticed part of the casement nearest the door, in -which the largest fractures were, perceptible. He then proceeded to -another and another, while Ferdinand continued to aid the fair girl in -ornamenting the other side of the hall, with somewhat less familiarity -of demeanour; but nevertheless many a dear whispered word passed -between them, as they hung the garlands, or shook the banners, or -crowned the war crests of the old helmets with bunches of flowers.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, as the blacksmith reached the fourth window, Adelaide's -store was exhausted, and she said, "I must go and bring more, -Ferdinand; Theresa, I dare say, has twined plenty of wreaths by this -time; and in the mean while, if you could drive some nails between the -stone-work of the arches, we could span over the vault with green -branches, and make the old hall look like a forest bower."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will get Franz to help me," answered her lover; "his arm, I should -think, would drive a nail into the heart of the stone, if it were -needful."</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon as she was gone, however, Franz handed down the lattice of the -fourth window to his apprentice, saying, "There, carry that to the -little court by the stables--I will work there. Then come for the -others, boy;" and as the youth departed, the stout man leaned upon his -hammer, and gazed after him till the door was closed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come, Franz, help me to drive some nails in here, to hold some -boughs," said Ferdinand. But Franz Creussen strode up to him, and -grasping him tightly by the shoulder with his heavy hand, he said, in -a low voice, bending down his head, "Be careful, be careful, young -man."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Be careful of what?" asked Ferdinand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pooh! nonsense," cried Franz Creussen, "do you think others will not -see what I see? and if they do, you may chance to go to bed one night, -shorter by the head."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand was somewhat puzzled how to answer. It was a case, perhaps, -in which insincerity is tolerated by all the rules of social polity; -but he knew the man who spoke to him to be honest and true-hearted, -and one who had always displayed towards him a peculiar and remarkable -degree of kindness and regard when he was almost at open enmity with -all the rest of the Count of Ehrenstein's household. After a moment's -hesitation, however, he answered, "I know not what you have seen, -Franz, to make you use such words; but I wish you would speak more -plainly. I do believe you love me, and would do all you can to serve -me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, more than you know, Master Ferdinand," replied the blacksmith. -"Speak more plainly! Why I have spoken plainly enough. Who is it makes -love to his lord's daughter, and thinks that all other men are -buzzards, and can only see by candle-light? I knew it would be so long -ago, and told Father George so, too, when he first put you here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But if Father George wishes it," rejoined Ferdinand, looking up in -his face.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why I suppose he knows best, then," answered the man, turning on his -heel, "but it's a dangerous game. A neck's but a neck, and that's soon -cut through.--But he knows more than I do, and I suppose he is right;" -and thus saying, he searched his basket for a number of large nails -that it contained, and was soon busily driving them in between the -joints of the stone-work, without adding a word more.</p> - -<p class="normal">In a minute after, his boy returned to take away another of the -frames, and as soon as he was gone, Franz Creussen turned to Ferdinand -again, and said, "I'll tell you what, young gentleman; Father George -knows best, and so you must follow his counsel; but these monks, -though they manage all the world, do not always manage it as they like -best; and if this matter should go wrong, and you should need help, -you will always know where to find it, as long as Franz Creussen -lives. In any time of need, come down to me if you can; and if you -can't get out, which is not an unlikely case, get me down word, and -the door will be strong indeed that Franz Creussen's arm cannot open."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thank you, Franz, thank you," answered Ferdinand, grasping his hand. -"But I would not have you peril yourself for me. I must take my fate -as I find it, and no fears for myself will stop me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's right, that's right," answered Franz Creussen. "Life would not -be worth keeping if it always wanted watching. But I don't fear peril -either, good youth; and I can do more than you think, for there's many -a man round about would follow my leathern apron as soon as a knight's -banner; I can ride with as good a train, if I like it, as any baron in -the land. But all I tell you is, don't you wait too long. If you find -yourself in danger come to Franz Creussen in time--the good Count is -quick in his despatch; didn't he strangle the poor fellow who he -thought--or said, whether he thought it or not--had stabbed his -brother, within twelve hours after he brought home the news of the -last Count's death?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" exclaimed Ferdinand, "I was not aware he had done so."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, ay," answered the blacksmith, "he did it sure enough; you may see -his bones, poor fellow, chained to the pillar against which they -strangled him, down in the serf's burial vault--but that was before -you came here, of course, so you can't know much of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was aware he had put him to death," replied Ferdinand, "but did not -know he had been so prompt in his execution."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He was, though," rejoined the blacksmith, "and for that reason, be -you prompt too. If you see signs of danger, come to Franz Creussen at -once--better to him than to the Abbey, for though the monks hold their -own well enough against the Count, they do not like to meddle in other -people's quarrels; and it is likely there would be long consultations, -before the end of which, the Abbey might be stormed, or at the end of -which you might be given up."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, the Lady Adelaide returned with a fresh supply of -garlands, and Franz Creussen turned away to drive in more nails on -which to hang the branches; and, at the end of about a quarter of an -hour, he quitted the hall, saying with a laugh,--"I'll go work at the -casements, in the court; I am better there than here; and you shall -have timely notice when the Count is coming up the hill."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That man looked very strange," said Adelaide, "and spoke strangely -too. Can he suspect anything, Ferdinand? He frightened me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, do not fear him, dearest girl!" replied her lover; "he is honest -and true, if ever one was so, and has a great love for me. I must not -conceal from you, my beloved, that he does suspect, and has been -warning me, if any danger should arise, to fly to him speedily, or to -send to him at once, if I should be imprisoned. He is much loved, and -much feared in the country round, and might give good and serviceable -aid in case of need."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Heaven forbid that it should ever be required!" cried Adelaide, -clasping her two hands together, and gazing sadly down; but the moment -after, the light rose in her eyes again, and she looked up with a -bright smile, exclaiming,--"I am doing what is right, and I will not -fear; but we must be careful, dear Ferdinand; we must not, for the -mere happiness of the moment, call suspicions upon us that might -endanger the happiness of our lives. Let us to our task--let us to our -task, and show them, when they return, that we have been right busy in -that we undertook."</p> - -<p class="normal">For the next three or four hours, with a brief interruption for the -mid-day meal, the lady and her lover continued to employ themselves in -decorating the old hall; and, aided by Franz Creussen and his lad, -contrived completely to change the appearance of the place. Bertha, -too, by seeing the other four continually go in and come out, by -hearing the cheerful sounds of their voices from within, and by the -presence of so many persons who seemed to have no fear, was at length -encouraged to look in, and then to speak from the door to her mistress -at the other end of the hall; and lastly, to enter herself, and assist -with her own hands.</p> - -<p class="normal">Everything was nearly completed; but a few more boughs were required -to be added to form a sort of canopy over the chair of state, and to -bring in the tables from the other halls, when the distant sound of a -trumpet was heard, and Franz Creussen's boy learned from the feudal -retainers, who had by this time assembled in considerable numbers, -that a large body of horsemen was coming over the opposite hill. -Adelaide hastened away to prepare herself for the reception of her -father's guests; but Ferdinand remained for a few minutes longer, to -finish, with hurried hands, all that remained to be done, and then -left the hall with Franz Creussen, who declared that he would now -hasten home, adding, in a surly tone,--"I will not stay to see them -revel who have no right to be here."</p> - -<p class="normal">At the door, however, Ferdinand turned to look back, and mark the -general effect which had been produced by the labours of the day. A -pleasant, though a somewhat strangely mingled sight it was, and -certainly the change which had been produced was very great. The old -arches, with their fretted roofs above, the grey stone-work, from -which the hue of age and disuse could not be removed, contrasted -curiously with the gay garlands of bright summer flowers that crowned -the chapters of the pillars, and hung in wavy lines along the walls. -The green boughs, too, with their regular irregularity, forming a -vault as it were within the vault, crossed in different directions by -the banners, now shaken clear of the dust which had long covered them, -and the rushes with which the floor was thickly strewn, gave the old -hall, as Adelaide had said, the appearance of a forest glade, dressed -out with flags for some chivalrous holiday; and as he stood and looked -around, strange dreamy visions crossed his mind, such as could present -themselves only to fancy in a chivalrous age. Thoughts of wild and -strange adventure, of renown in arms, of generous deeds and noble -daring, of befriending the poor and needy, of supporting the weak and -oppressed, of overthrowing the wrong-doer and delivering the wronged, -mixed in strange confusion with sylvan sports and forest glades, and -calm hours spent by castle hearths between. But in every scene, with -every picture, came one fair, dear form; wherever fancy placed him, -the bright soft eyes looked at him, the sweet lips smiled his reward. -She whom he loved was the soul of all his imaginings, and he felt how -truly it was that innocent love gave its own sunshine to everything -around. Even the hall he had just been decorating lost its light when -she was gone, the old walls grew cold and damp, the flowers seemed not -half so fair, the boughs appeared to droop more languidly. It all -looked but half as gay as when Adelaide was there, and yet he saw not -what could have been done better. Nevertheless, a great change had -been effected; and when he compared the hall with what it had been, -before he and Adelaide had undertaken its arrangement, he felt sure -that his lord would think that they had laboured well during his -absence, and though but half-contented with his work, hastened to his -chamber to remove the dust from his face and hands, and don his -festival attire.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER X.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">A body of about some sixty armed vassals of the house of Ehrenstein, -was drawn up in the outer court of the castle. They were under -different subordinate leaders, for by the subdivision of land, in -descending from one generation to another, the exact number which had -been originally assigned by tenure to different portions of the -signory, had become somewhat confused, and also difficult to compute; -for many small properties were now only bound to send half a man, and -others one, two, or three and a half. As it was not so easy to divide -a man as it had been found to divide the ground that nourished him, -each little community was usually called upon to send its aggregate -number of soldiers, with whom was a chief appointed to command them -under the Lord of Ehrenstein, or one of his officers.</p> - -<p class="normal">As Ferdinand of Altenburg was the only person of note in the household -of the Count, who now remained in the castle, the villagers were, of -course, under his guidance, and he endeavoured to array them in such a -sort as to make the greatest possible display of force on the entrance -of the lord of the castle with his guests. The outer gates, however, -were closed by his orders, although some of the retainers thought it -not a little strange that the young gentleman should shut the doors -upon the Count himself. But Ferdinand knew well his task, and after -directing a banner to be displayed upon the walls, he approached the -gates, and waited with some impatience, listening for the sounds from -without.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length the shrill blast of a trumpet upon the bridge, within a few -yards of the spot where he stood, showed him that the Count was near; -and opening the wicket, he demanded--"Who seeks to enter here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The trumpeter replied in the same tone--"The Count of Ehrenstein. Open -the gates to your lord!" And the young gentleman instantly commanded -them to be flung back, that the cavalcade might enter.</p> - -<p class="normal">It consisted of some sixty or seventy men, with a number of baggage -horses following in the rear. At the head of the first and principal -group, appeared the Count himself, in the garments of peace, while on -his left rode a fine-looking man, somewhat past the middle age, -partially armed. His head was only covered with an ordinary velvet cap -and plume, however, so that Ferdinand had a full opportunity of gazing -at his features, and he did so with a degree of interest for which he -knew no cause. He had heard of Count Frederick of Leiningen, indeed, -as a gallant and skilful soldier, and a frank-hearted and amiable man. -But he had seen many such without feeling the same sort of curiosity -which he now experienced. The Count's face was one that well expressed -his character; blithe and good-humoured, though with a high, -thoughtful brow, while two or three scars upon his lip and cheek, -showed that he had not acquired the glory of arms without tasting the -perils and the pangs of war. His hair, nearly white, falling from -beneath his cap, would have seemed to show a more advanced period of -life than the Count of Ehrenstein had attained; but on the other hand, -the guest was more upright and stately in person than his host, and -rode his horse with a more martial air. Behind those two appeared old -Seckendorf and Karl of Mosbach, with several knights of Count -Frederick's train; and the first group was closed by a party which -would have appeared very strange, and in most unnatural companionship -to our eyes, though in those times it was of every day occurrence. On -the right was a priest, in his ordinary riding apparel, bearing a dry -branch of the Oriental palm in his hand; and on the left rode a tall, -powerful personage, whose motley garb, and sort of Phrygian bonnet, -surmounted by a bell instead of a tassel, spoke him the jester of the -high nobleman whom he followed. He, also, was past the middle age, and -his beard, which seemed to have been once of a rich dark brown, was -now thickly mingled with white; his eyebrows were quite blanched, but -his eye was keen and quick, and his teeth white and perfect. The -powerful horse that he bestrode, he managed with ease, and even grace; -and as he came forward, he sent a rapid and marking glance over every -tower and battlement of the castle, and round all the retainers of the -house of Ehrenstein, scrutinizing each face, and then passing on. -Behind these two, and mounted upon a horse as tall as those that went -before, was a dwarf, excessively diminutive in size, and hideous in -feature, form, and complexion; he was decked out in all the gayest -colours that could be found, which seemed to render his deformity but -the more apparent, and his small black eyes twinkled from beneath his -bent brows, with a dark, malicious expression, as if in that small -frame there, were a vast store of hatred for all human things more -favoured by nature than himself. Some pages in attendance, of good -birth, followed, and then the men at arms.</p> - -<p class="normal">Just beyond the arch of the gateway stood the Lady Adelaide, with her -women, looking more lovely--at least in the eyes of Ferdinand of -Altenburg--than she had ever done before; the colour of her cheek -heightened, and the light in her eye which can only be given by love. -As soon as Count Frederick saw her, he spoke a few words to her father -in a low voice; the Lord of Ehrenstein bowed his head, and his guest -instantly sprang to the ground, and advancing gracefully to the lady, -took her hand, and pressed his lips upon it. The rest of the party -also dismounted, and Count Frederick, still holding Adelaide by the -hand, and gazing upon her with a look of admiration and interest, was -led to the lesser hall, where her father, apologizing for being absent -a moment, left him to the entertainment of the fair lady for a time, -and hurrying back into the court, called Ferdinand to him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is all prepared in the hall?" he asked, with a low voice.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, my good lord," replied the young man. "But I pray you do not go -to see it yet, till it be lighted up. The evening is beginning to -fall, and at supper-time it will show as you could wish it. So sweetly -has Lady Adelaide decked it all, it seems as if she were born a queen -of flowers, and that they do her bidding willingly."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count smiled, but went on to say, "Then you had nothing to -interrupt you--none of these strange sights again?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"None, none, my lord," answered Ferdinand. "The only strange sight -that visited us during the day, was that giant Franz Creussen; but he -did us good service, helped to reach up where we could not stretch our -arms, and in the labouring part did more than any one. He was only -just gone when you arrived."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He passed us on the road, without a word," replied the Count; -"neither doffed his bonnet, nor made any sign of reverence. The time -may come for a reckoning between me and good Franz Creussen, when we -shall know whether the noble is to be bearded by a serf."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I believe he means no harm, my lord Count," replied Ferdinand, -warmly, but respectfully: "he has borne arms, I have heard, and is -somewhat rough in manners; but all the country people speak well of -him, and men say he is no serf, but of good blood."</p> - -<p class="normal">"His trade is a churl's, at all events," replied the Count, frowning, -"and the trade makes the man, youth.--I know right well he has borne -arms--'tis that renders him insolent. The day will come, however--the -day will come.--All men speak well of him, eh? Did you ever know any -one of whom all men spoke well, who was not a cunning knave, skilful -in taking advantage of the follies of others for their own purposes? -The man whom the rabble curse, is often their best friend; the fawning -sycophant who panders to their caprices, uses them but as means, to -cast them off when he has done with them."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand could have well replied, that Franz Creussen was not one to -fawn on any man; but he saw that his lord was in no mood to hear -truth, and after giving a moment to gloomy thought, the Count repeated -his question. "So all passed quietly?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"So peacefully and lightly, my good lord," answered Ferdinand, "that -standing there in the broad sunshine of the day, I could hardly -believe that my eyes had not played me the knave last night, and -cheated me with idle visions."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps it was so," said the Count, "and yet that banner--that was no -vision, Ferdinand. However, we must forget such things, and you must -choose out twenty of the men to be with us in the hall to-night. Lay -my commands strictly on them to show no signs of fear, and forbid all -the rest even to whisper one word of these vain tales to any of the -guests. I have spoken with Seckendorf and Mosbach, already; but I -trust more to you, Ferdinand, for they have doubts and fears that you -are without. Neither, to say the truth, are they very courteous. Here, -Seckendorf has been brawling already with one of Count Frederick's -chief followers. You must try and keep peace and quietness, and see -that hospitable courtesy be shown to all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I cannot meddle with Seckendorf and Mosbach, my lord," answered -Ferdinand, "for they are knights, and I am none, and moreover, are my -elders; but all the rest I can easily command, partly by love, and -partly by authority, if you will delegate some power to me to rule -them as I think best, when you are not present."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will, I will, good youth," replied the Count; "at supper-time I -will do it publicly, with thanks for what you have already done. You -shall be my Master of the Household for the time, and in that -character you must show every kind attention not only to Count -Frederick himself, but to his favourite followers."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is sufficient good accommodation provided for his knights, my -lord," answered Ferdinand. "I saw to that before I went to the hall. -Everything is ready for seven, and I see but five."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good faith! there are others whom he cares for more than his -knights," answered the Count. "There is the priest, ay, and the jester -too. My old friend seems full of strange fantasies, and we must humour -them. This fool whom he has with him saved his life in the Holy Land, -it seems; and though he is at times somewhat insolent, even to his -lord--as all such knavish fools are--not only does he bear with him -patiently, but ever keeping in mind this one service, sets him at -table with his knights, and listens to him like an oracle. He and the -priest must sit with us; and we may draw diversion from the one if not -from the other. Be sure that you are civil to him, my good youth, for -Count Frederick's friendship may stand me in good stead. Then there's -a youth--there he stands, talking to Mosbach--a down-looking -quick-eyed lad, who seems a favourite too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is his name, my lord?" asked Ferdinand, turning his eyes in the -direction of the group of which the Count spoke.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Martin of Dillberg," said his lord. "He is a gentleman by birth, it -seems, but of no very high nobility. Not like the Altenburgs," he -continued, with a smile and a flattering tone, "whose very blood is -wealth. So now go, Ferdinand, and see that all be arranged as I have -said, for I must hie me back again, and lead this good lord to his -apartments. You do the same for the others; and let the trumpet sound -some minutes before supper, that we may all be gathered in the other -hall."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he left him; but in the mean while some words of interest -had passed between Adelaide and Count Frederick, who had remained with -her near one of the windows, while the few attendants who had followed -them were grouped together talking at the other end of the chamber.</p> - -<p class="normal">He had gazed at her earnestly, but not offensively, when they first -met, just within the castle gates. It was a look of kind, almost -paternal tenderness with which he appeared to interrogate her fair -face. It seemed to say, Are you as good as you are beautiful, as happy -as you are bright, sweet child? and twice, as he led her to the hall, -he turned his head to look at her with the same expression; but as -soon as they had entered, he said, turning towards the casement, "I -feel as if we were old acquaintances, my dear young lady; so you must -not think it strange that I treat you as one. I have known your father -long and well--since we were boys together; and I knew your uncle -better still--a noble and high-minded man he was, as sportful as a -child, and yet with the courage of a warrior, and the conduct of a -sage--and I cannot help looking upon you almost as a daughter. Thus, -if I do so sometimes, and seem more familiar, and more concerned about -your happiness than our young acquaintance might warrant, you will -forgive me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Kindness needs no forgiveness, my noble lord," replied Adelaide, -thinking she remarked something peculiar in the Prince's tone, she -knew not well what.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, for it may sometimes seem impertinent," answered Count -Frederick. "But methinks, my child, if I can read the clear book of -your eyes aright, you are one who can see very speedily what are the -motives of words or actions, which to some might seem strange. I am -preparing you for the demeanour of an odd old man--but I think I have -said enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not know, my lord," said Adelaide, casting down her eyes, in -some doubt and confusion, "enough to awaken curiosity, but not to -satisfy it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps not enough to win confidence," replied Count Frederick, "yet, -as I never knew that it could be gained by words, I must leave deeds -to speak for me, and will only tell you more, that I have seen and -conversed with a dear friend of yours, and that if you should need, at -any time, aid and protection, you will have it from Frederick of -Leiningen."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A friend of mine?" said Adelaide, in surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, indeed," replied her companion, "and a good friend too, who told -me that a time was coming when you might need support; and I promised -to give it. But I must hear more myself before I can speak farther. In -the mean time, keep what I have said to your own bosom, but trust me -as far as you will, when you have need.--What is it now, Herr von -Narren?" he continued, as his jester approached him. "What is it that -you want?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"What do I want?" said the man in motley, "Good faith! uncle -Frederick, my answer, to be pertinent, must be as long as a -dictionary. First, I want lands and lordships, and a purse well -stored; then, I want wit--at least, so men tell me; and I myself judge -that I want a pretty wife. Sure, I ought to have one or the other, -though both cannot go together, for a pretty wife takes away a man's -wit, and a man who has wit has not a pretty wife; then I want boots of -untanned leather broidered with gold, and a well-darned doublet, which -the air of heaven knoweth right well I have not got. Give you good -luck, fair lady; are you the daughter of this castle?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am the daughter of its lord," replied Adelaide, with a smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then you are the daughter of the castle," answered the jester, "and -its only begotten child!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"How do you prove that, Herr von Narren?" asked Count Frederick, -seeming to enjoy very much the man's dull jokes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now cogitate," replied the jester. "Is not the castle made of -stone?--all lords' hearts are made of stone, too. He is the lord of -the castle, and if she is the daughter of his heart, she is the -daughter of a stone; the castle is made of stone, <i>ergo</i>, she is the -daughter of the castle."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It halts!--it halts!" cried Count Frederick; "your argument is lame -of one foot!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"My father's heart has never been of stone to me," replied Adelaide, -gently.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps you never cut it, or you would have found it so, pretty -blossom," said the jester, more gravely than was his wont; and then -turning to Count Frederick, he was about to continue in his usual -strain, when their host entered, and in courteous terms, and with the -ceremonious manners of the day, besought his noble guest to follow him -to the apartments which had been prepared for him.</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide remained some minutes behind. I will not attempt to explain -why; for ladies' thoughts and motives form a difficult book to read. -It was certainly likely that Ferdinand of Altenburg would speedily -return to the hall; and perhaps she might not be unwilling to see him -again for a few minutes; or perhaps she might feel time hang heavy on -her hands, as it often did in those old castles, and she be well -disposed to while away a brief space in talking even with a jester. -Let those who are wise in such things, judge. At all events, her -conversation went on with Herr von Narren, as Count Frederick called -him; and she it was who renewed it, saying,--</p> - -<p class="normal">"You accompanied Count Frederick from the Holy Land, I think?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, lady, he accompanied me," answered the jester; "fools always lead -the way, you know, and wise men follow."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But there was nothing foolish in coming back to your native country," -said Adelaide.</p> - -<p class="normal">"If it was wise to go, as all men said," replied the jester, "it was -foolish to come back. But rats will put their heads into a trap, and -then strive to pull them out, too late. Is your ladyship fond of -strawberries and cream?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not extravagantly," answered Adelaide.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then God give you such wise economy in all things!" cried the jester. -"Even love may surfeit, if we take too much of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">From some internal emotion, the blood rose in the lady's cheek, -whether she would or not, but she forced herself to reply,--"Nay, I -doubt that, Sir; 'tis when we love unwisely that there is danger. We -cannot love too well when we love wisely."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well cannot be ill, indeed," said the fool, with a sage look, "so -says Aristotle, or I mistake; yet I have heard my grandmother declare, -and she was as wise as the old Greek, that all sweet things will -surfeit. Now love is a sweet thing to all young hearts; and were I a -boy in the castle, I would avoid that pantry, for it may contain -dangerous dainties."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide mused for a moment, asking herself whether the man, indeed, -spoke at random; but when he saw that she replied not, he went -on,--"Beauty, wisdom, wit, policy, a soft voice, and a delicate -step--even chalked soles and a flat heel--never yet kept a man from -stumbling, if he ran too fast; and so, fair lady, as you are the -daughter of the castle, and I am Count Frederick's fool, we will go -gently, and not fall in love with each other, lest our fortunes should -be made a ballad of."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I should think there was no great chance of your falling in love with -me, good Sir," answered Adelaide; "'tis a danger easily eschewed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Faith, I know not that, if you look out of the upper windows so -sweetly," replied the jester, pointing towards Adelaide's eyes; "I am -more in love already than I ever thought to be with one of your house. -If young hearts are like dry wood, why should not old ones be tinder?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The lady was saved the necessity of replying, by her father's -entrance; and she was not disinclined to break off a conversation -which had become embarrassing. Retiring then quickly, she sought her -own chamber, traversing the passages and corridors now crowded with -men carrying up the baggage which had been brought with Count -Frederick's train.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XI.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The crescets and sconces were lighted in the great hall, and all those -who were to be honoured with a seat at the banquet of the evening were -beginning to assemble in the lesser hall. On this occasion, none were -admitted to the table of their lords but such as could either show -some claim to noble blood, or were distinguished by particular favour. -Nevertheless, the guests were very numerous, for the changes which -time had produced in the strict feudal system, and in the severity of -the ancient chivalry, admitted many to distinction who would formerly -have been excluded; and every man, not absolutely a serf, was looked -upon as noble, and entitled to bear arms. Priests and friars, whether -they could prove their ancestry or not, found ready admission to the -tables even of monarchs; and in times of need and danger, when it was -necessary to court popular support, the leaders of the free communes -were treated with every sort of honour. The feudal system, indeed, at -this time, may be said to have been completely disorganised; and -amongst many symptoms of the total overthrow which was approaching, -was that mixture of classes, and the reverence for a great many -qualities, some of them much superior to mere ancestry, and some of -them perhaps inferior. However that may be, the number of those who, -notwithstanding all customary limitations, were entitled to dine with -the Count of Ehrenstein and his princely guest, did not amount to less -than seventy; and Adelaide, when she entered the lesser hall with her -father, felt her heart beat somewhat timidly at the sight of so many -who were perfect strangers to her.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was to be remarked that amongst the various groups which the room -contained, the attendants of the lord of Ehrenstein looked grave, -moody, and anxious, while those of Count Frederick of Leiningen, not -aware of any cause for apprehension, were cheerful, if not merry. -Numbers, however, have a very encouraging effect; and with so many -companions around them, old Seckendorf and Mosbach, with their -fellow-soldiers of the castle, had screwed their courage to the -sticking point, and were prepared to face the ghosts of the old hall -without any external signs of fear. It had cost some trouble, indeed, -to get the cooks and sewers of the household to place the viands for -the supper on the tables, but the example of Ferdinand and Adelaide, -and the knowledge that they, with Franz Creussen and his boy, had -passed the whole morning in the hall without disturbance, induced them -rather to risk a meeting with the ghosts than to encounter their -lord's anger; and in parties of five and six, they had at length -ventured in, heavily laden with provisions.</p> - -<p class="normal">Their terrors had caused some delay, however; and it was not till the -Count had waited impatiently for near a quarter of an hour, that the -trumpets were heard sounding clear and shrill from below. After a few -moments wasted, as was customary, to show that no one was in haste, -Count Frederick offered his hand to Adelaide, and led her to the door, -and the whole party moved forward towards the banquet room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let the others go first, Mosbach," said Seckendorf, in a low tone; -"the devil may take them all, if he likes, so that he leave me enough -for supper: I am as ravenous as a wolf!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"So am I," answered Mosbach; "but I would rather go hungry to bed than -sup in that dreary old hall, with the ghastly company we are likely to -have."</p> - -<p class="normal">The sight that met their eye, however, when they approached the great -door, was one that they little expected. The whole hall was in a blaze -of light; tapers were hung thickly on the walls and in the arches, -showing forth, in fine relief, the garlands of flowers with which -Adelaide had decked them, and the branches of evergreen which both -tapestried and canopied the hall. The banners, freed from the dust of -many years, waved gaily overhead; the tables groaned with well-cooked -viands, and long ranges of cups, goblets, and tankards, in gold -and silver--for the Count had brought forth all his stores of -splendour--flashed back the rays of the lights around, and added to -the rich and cheerful aspect of the whole.</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Frederick paused for an instant, exclaiming,--"Why, this is a -scene of fairy land!" and the Count of Ehrenstein himself gazed round -with wonder and pleasure on a sight which far surpassed his previous -expectations. He made no observation, however, but moved on to take -his seat in the great chair, in the centre of the cross table, and -several minutes were spent in arranging the guests according to their -rank and station. Adelaide was placed upon her father's left, Count -Frederick on his right; the priest sat next the lady, and then the -knights around, while Ferdinand, in a courteous tone, assigned the -jester a seat at the angle of the two tables, so that he could -converse with his lord during their meal, according to custom, without -being actually placed at the same table. This arrangement created much -surprise amongst the followers of the house of Ehrenstein, and some -displeasure, but the attendants of Count Frederick seemed to look upon -it as a matter of course.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand himself was about to take a seat much farther down, but, as -he moved towards it, the Count called him up, saying, "Here is room -for you, Ferdinand. Well and faithfully have you done all that was -entrusted to you, and neither a braver heart nor a better head have we -amongst us. I name you the Master of my Household from this hour, and -leave my good guests to your care and courtesy whenever I am not -present."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well may he make him master of his household," said Seckendorf, in a -whisper, to Mosbach, "for he seems master of the spirits as well as -the bodies. I am sure without their help he never could have done all -this."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He had Franz Creussen with him," mumbled Karl of Mosbach; "and I -don't see why a boy like that, not knighted yet, should be put over -our heads."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He's a good youth, he's a good youth," answered Seckendorf; "and may -well have an office that neither you nor I could manage. We are over -his head in arms, and that is all we have to care about."</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean while Count Frederick had put some question to his -entertainer, who bowed his head, replying, "Yes, the same, Ferdinand -of Altenburg," and the old nobleman instantly rose up, as Ferdinand -advanced with some degree of diffidence, and took him in his arms, -saying, "Ah! good youth, I am right glad to see you. I knew your -father well, a gallant gentleman as ever drew a sword. He died in -foreign lands, many long years ago. We must know each other better, my -son. Here, Philip of Wernheim, I pray you for this night make room for -him beside me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, my good lord," said Ferdinand; "I beseech you excuse me--I must -not displace a noble gentleman so much older and better than myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There, sit you down, boy," cried the bluff old soldier, to whom the -Count had spoken, taking him by the shoulder and thrusting him into -the seat, with a laugh, "It matters not where a man sits. If he have -honour, he will carry his honour about with him; if he have none, he -may well sit low. I will go place me by my old friend, the Herr von -Narren, and see whether his sharp wit will crack my hard skull."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying he moved round, and took a seat at the other side of the -cross table, saying to the jester, in a low tone, as he sat down, -"Why, how now, you seem dull, mein Herr, cheer up."</p> - -<p class="normal">The jester suddenly raised his face, and answered, "What makes a cat -mew and a lion roar--a young man fierce and an old man dull?--Hunger, -hunger, Sir Philip! Heaven send the good priest a weak breath and a -strong appetite, for he is rising to bless the meat, I see, and if he -be long about it, like the grace of many another man, it will be a -curse instead of a blessing."</p> - -<p class="normal">The priest, however, was as hungry as the rest, and his words quick -and few. The meal began, and for well nigh half an hour it passed -nearly in silence, but then, as the appetite was assuaged, and wine -began to flow, the tongue was allowed time to act as well as the -teeth; and Count Frederick began to urge the jester to speak, though -the latter, either from not having yet satisfied his hunger, or -perhaps from weariness with long travel, seemed little disposed to -indulge his lord.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come, come, my friend," cried Count Frederick, at length; "thou art -playing the silent counsellor to-night,--what dost thou cogitate?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Bitter sweet," answered the jester. "Call you me counsellor, uncle? I -would give you all right good advice and sharp, if you would but take -it--man, woman, and child."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let us hear, let us hear," cried Count Frederick; "then will we judge -whether it be worth the taking. Begin with the lady, cousin, as in -duty-bound."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, here's for her counsel," said the jester, laying his -finger on his brow:--</p> -<div class="poem1"> - -<h3>THE JESTER'S ADVICE TO LADIES.</h3> - -<p class="t1">"Flaunt not your beauty in the common eye,</p> -<p class="t2">Lest, like hedge flowers, it be not thought worth plucking,</p> -<p class="t1">Trust to no young man's tender word or sigh;</p> -<p class="t2">For even pigs are gentle when they're sucking.</p> -<br> -<p class="t1">"Judge of your lover by his deeds to others,</p> -<p class="t2">For to yourself he's ever a deceiver.</p> -<p class="t1">Mark, girls, your fathers' conduct to your mothers,</p> -<p class="t2">And each be, if she can be, a believer."</p> -</div> - -<p class="normal">"Good counsel, cousin! good counsel!" cried Count Frederick, "but now -for another. What say you to the young men?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good faith! uncle, I know not that I have anything to say," answered -the jester; "for whatever age says, youth will not believe, and -whatever wisdom advises, folly will not follow; grace has gone out of -season with garden rue; and wit, as well as wisdom, has become the -property of fools. Argue me now wisely, with a sleek young -crimson-spotted trout, upon the eminent perdition which befalls him if -he snaps at a gay-looking fly with a hook in its belly; yet will your -trout leap at the bait, and soon be flapping his broad tail on the -bank. If the hook break in his jaws, indeed, he will gain wit from his -wound, and look before he leaps another time--experience is the -scourge that drives us all, admonition but a fool's blown bladder, -that makes a sound where it strikes, but no impression. Boys will -after their own game, as a goshawk after a partridge--and a pretty -pair of heels, or a small delicate hand, most kissable and sugary, -rosy lips set in a white skin, like strawberries in cream, and eyes -that say 'Come, love me,' will any day, about feeding time, make a lad -like that jump at a hook that will draw him into the frying-pan. -Heaven help and mend us all!</p> -<div class="poem3"> - -<p class="t1">"Beauty's a butterfly, and youth's a boy,</p> -<p class="t2">Let him catch it if he can.</p> -<p class="t1">When he casts away his toy,</p> -<p class="t2">He may learn to be a man."</p> -</div> - -<p class="normal">"Pretty Mistress Bertha wouldn't thank him if she could hear that," -said Seckendorf, apart to his fellow-knight.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mistress Bertha!" answered old Mosbach. "I've a notion the young -cockerel carries his eyes higher than that, and all this notice of him -will spoil him. The other day I saw him looking into the Lady -Adelaide's eyes, and she into his, as if they were drinking love -pledges to one another."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pooh! nonsense," answered Seckendorf. "You are always finding out a -nest of cock's eggs, Karl. Have you nothing to say to us, Sir Jester?" -he continued aloud, speaking across the table.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good faith! but little," answered the other; "your old man is worse -to deal with than your young one, for he is as weak in the wit as in -the hams, and his brain, like a worn horse-trough, is ever leaking -with watery talk.</p> -<div class="poem1"> - -<p class="t1">"Graybeards and wisdom were married one day;--</p> -<p class="t2">'Tis a very long time since then--</p> -<p class="t1">But they parted by chance upon the highway</p> -<p class="t2">And ne'er came together again.</p> -<br> -<p class="t1">"Leave wine, and leave women, graybeard, and leave oaths,</p> -<p class="t2">Leave dicing, and jesting, and scoffing;</p> -<p class="t1">And thou'lt find thine old wife, dressed in her best clothes,</p> -<p class="t2">At thy long journey's end--in the coffin."</p> -</div> - -<p class="normal">"There Seckendorf," cried the Count of Ehrenstein, "you have enough, -methinks. For my part; I will not tempt our friend."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then you shall have counsel without asking," answered the jester, and -he went on in his usual rude verse as follows:--</p> -<div class="poem2"> - - -<p class="t1">"The noble lord, the just, the true--</p> -<p class="t2">Methinks I see him now--</p> -<p class="t1">Claims from no vassal more than due--</p> -<p class="t2">But gives him more, I trow.</p> -<br> -<p class="t1">"No stolen swine grunts in his sty,</p> -<p class="t2">No plundered goose complains,</p> -<p class="t1">No cackling hens against him cry,</p> -<p class="t2">His barn no spoil contains.</p> -<br> -<p class="t1">"Quick he restores what's wrongly got,</p> -<p class="t2">Without a suit at law,</p> -<p class="t1">His sword has never cut a knot,</p> -<p class="t2">His fingers could not draw.</p> -<br> -<p class="t1">"If such thou art, no danger dread,</p> -<p class="t2">In camp, in court, in town,</p> -<p class="t1">But if thou'rt not, beware thy head,</p> -<p class="t2">For sure thou'lt tumble down."</p> -</div> - -<p class="normal">At the first stanza the Lord of Ehrenstein smiled pleasantly, but as -the jester went on to paint a character, which by no stretch of human -vanity he could attribute to himself, his laugh grew somewhat grim, -and although all the customs of the day required that he should seem -amused with the jester's observations, even when they hit him the -hardest, yet he might have made a somewhat tart reply in the shape of -a joke, which he was very well qualified to do, if he had not been -interrupted before he could speak. Just as the jester concluded, -however, a loud, wild, extraordinary burst of martial music drowned -every other sound at the table: clarions and trumpets, drums and -atabals, sounded all round the hall, in a strain so peculiar, that -ears which had once heard it, could never forget it again. Count -Frederick started, and turned towards the Count, exclaiming, "Odds -life! we are in Africa again. Whence got you this Moorish music, my -lord? I have not heard the like since I was at Damietta. You must have -a whole troop of Moslema."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count's cheek had turned very pale, and Ferdinand's eye was seen -wandering round the hall, as if expecting some strange sight suddenly -to present itself.</p> - -<p class="normal">"In truth, I know not whence these sounds come," answered the Count, -after a moment's pause for consideration; and he then added, seeing -that any further attempt at concealment would be vain, "It is no -ordinary place, this castle of Ehrenstein, my noble friend. We have -strange sights, and strange sounds here. But what matters it? We are -not men to be frightened by unsubstantial sounds or appearances -either. I drink to your health," and filling his cup high with wine, -he said aloud--the music having by this time ceased, "To Count -Frederick of Leiningen!"</p> - -<p class="normal">His guest immediately answered the pledge, saying, "Health to the -Count of Ehrenstein!" but instantly a loud voice echoed through the -hall, pronouncing in a solemn tone, "Health to the Dead!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is mighty strange!" exclaimed Count Frederick, setting down his -cup scarcely tasted. "Methought I had seen or heard all of wonderful -that this earth can produce, but now I come back to my own land to -witness things stranger still.--This must be Satan's work. We must get -you, good father, to lay this devil."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Please you, my noble lord," replied the priest, whose face had turned -as white as paper, "I would rather have nothing to do with him. There -is the Abbey hard by, surely the good fathers there could keep the -place free from spirits if they liked it.--It is their business, not -mine, and as I see the lady is rising, by my troth, I will go to bed -too, for I am somewhat weary with our long marches."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It may be better for us all to do so, too," said Count Frederick; but -his host pressed him to stay longer so earnestly, that he sat down for -a few minutes, while Adelaide and the priest retired from the hall. -The retainers of the two noblemen did not venture to follow their own -inclinations and the priest's example, but, though the Lord of -Ehrenstein pressed the wine hard upon them, all mirth was at an end, -and whispered conversations alone went on, except between the two -counts, who spoke a few words from time to time, in a louder tone, but -evidently with a great effort, and at the end of about a quarter of an -hour, during which there was no further interruption, Count Frederick -rose,--begging his entertainer to excuse him, for retiring to rest.</p> - -<p class="normal">All were eager to rise, and to get out of a place where none of them -felt themselves in security; but Ferdinand touched his lord's arm, as, -with a gloomy brow, he was following his guest from the hall, saying, -in a low voice, "What is to be done with all this gold and silver, my -lord? we shall never persuade the sewers to clear it away to-night."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know not," answered the Count, moodily, but aloud. "You must lock -the door, or stay and watch."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand fell back, and suffered the stream to pass by him, -meditating thoughtfully upon how he should act. As was not uncommon in -those days, there was a good deal of confusion in his mind in regard -to matters of superstitious belief. Persons of strong intellect, -however rude the education which they had received, were not easily -induced to suppose that beings merely spiritual could have the powers -and faculties of corporeal creatures, and although few doubted the -fact of apparitions, being frequently seen, and even heard to speak, -yet they did not believe in general that they had any power of dealing -with substantial bodies. Thus, when Ferdinand thought of the events of -the preceding night, although he could not doubt the evidence of his -own senses, yet the fact of the banner having been changed puzzled him -a good deal, and in his straightforward simplicity he asked himself, -"If ghosts can carry away so heavy a thing as a banner and a banner -pole, why should they not take silver tankards and golden cups?" He -looked at the different articles that strewed the tables with a -doubtful eye, at first proposing to move them to a safer place -himself, but upon the cross table were many large silver plates and -dishes loaded with fragments of the meal, and he felt a repugnance to -undertake for any one an office unsuited to his birth. To lock the -door and leave the things to their fate, he could not help thinking -might be merely consigning the valuable stores that were there -displayed to a place from which they were never likely to -return--whether above the earth or under the earth, he did not stop to -inquire--and at length, after a little hesitation, he said, "I will -stay and watch. They did me no harm last night, why should they harm -me to-night? I can rest here as well as in my bed, and I should like -to see more of these strange things.--They are awful, it is true; but -yet, what has one to fear with God and a good conscience,--I will -stay."</p> - -<p class="normal">Just as he came to this resolution, he heard a returning step in the -vestibule, the door leading, to which had been left open behind the -retreating crowd, and the next minute the face of the jester appeared -looking in. "Ha, ha! good youth," he said; "are you going to stay -here, like a bait in a rat-trap, till our friends the ghosts come and -nibble you? I heard what your excellent, good lord said,--a wise man! -an admirably wise man! who understands the craft of princes, and -leaves his followers a pleasant choice, in which they are sure to get -blame or danger, in whatever way they act. What do you intend to do? -lock up the door and leave the cups and tankards for devils to drink -withal? or to wait and bear them company, if they choose to come and -have a merry bout with you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I shall stay and watch," answered Ferdinand; "I am not a steward or a -scullion, to move plates and dishes, and if I leave them here Heaven -only knows where they will be to-morrow!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, good faith! I'll stay and watch with you, Sir Ferdinand," -answered the jester; "two fools are better than one, at any time, and -one by profession and one by taste ought to be a match for a score or -two of spirits, whether they be black, white, or grey."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I've a notion, Herr von Narren," answered Ferdinand; "that you have -less of a fool in you than many who would be more ashamed of the -name."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good lack!" answered the jester, "you do my wit but little justice, -youth. Who would not be a fool, when wise men do such things every -day. Better to profess folly at once, of your own good will, than to -have other men put the cap upon your head. A fool has one great -advantage over a wise man which no one will deny him--a fool can be -wise when he pleases, a wise man cannot be foolish when he likes. Oh! -the bauble for ever; I would not change my motley just yet for a robe -of miniver. But we'll watch, we'll watch, and we'll make ourselves -comfortable too. By my faith! it gets cold of nights, or else the -chilly wing of another world is flapping through this old hall. Go, -get some logs, good youth, and we'll have a fire then; with our toes -upon the andirons, and our chins in our palms. By the beard of St. -Barnabas, we'll tell old stories of strange things gone by, till the -cock shall crow before we know it. You are not afraid to leave me with -the tankards, I suppose, for, on my life, I drink fair with every man, -and have no itch for silver."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh no, I do not fear," answered Ferdinand, "and I'll soon bring logs -enough for the night. A cheerful blaze will do us no harm, and I shall -be glad of your company."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he left the place, and from the great coffer at the -entrance of the lesser hall, he soon loaded himself with sufficient -wood, as he thought, to last the night. When he re-entered the great -hall, he found the jester walking back from the other end towards the -centre, where the fireplace stood; and as he came near, the young man -inquired, "Were you talking to yourself just now, Herr von Narren?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, good sooth, that were waste of words," answered the jester. "I -was peeping through yonder keyhole, and as it is a mighty ghostly -looking door, I thought I might as well tell the spirits not to -disturb us, as we had much to talk about. They took it all in good -part, poor things, and said nothing; though after all it would be but -charity to let them come and have a warm at our good fire, for it must -be cold down stairs, I fancy, and your ghost is thinly clad. Where -does yon door lead to, good youth?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"To the serfs burying vault," answered Ferdinand, "and then to the old -chapel under the new one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha, ha! all convenient for the ghosts," said the jester, "but there -must be a number of sad Turks amongst them to make such a noise with -their atabals as they did to-night. There, you reach me down a lamp, -while I lay the sticks. Trust a fool for making a fire, if he do not -make it too large: then he may burn his own fingers, and the house -too. We will put out half the sconces, and so, we shall have -candle-light till the morning, when the sun and the tapers may wink at -each other, like merry maids upon a May-day."</p> - -<p class="normal">The fire was soon lighted, and the suggestion regarding the sconces -carried into execution; after which, Ferdinand and the jester drew two -stools into the wide chimney, and the latter bringing the large flagon -of wine and two cups from the cross table, set the beaker down upon -the hearth, saying, "We will drink and keep our spirits up."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay," answered Ferdinand, "I want no wine for that purpose. I will -take one cup, for I have had none to-night, and I have worked hard -during the day, but if I took more, I should sleep and not watch."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, young brains are soon addled, like a pigeon's egg," answered the -jester. "And so you are Ferdinand of Altenburg?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand nodded his head, answering, with a smile, "No other."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are a bold man," said his companion, "to give me such an answer."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How so?" demanded Ferdinand, "I must surely know who I am myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If you know yourself, you are the first man that ever did," replied -the jester. "Your father was a proper man."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed! did you know him?" exclaimed Ferdinand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, dear no, not at all," said the Herr von Narren, "but my uncle -Frederick told us so at supper. I knew your grand-father and -your great-grandfather, and I was distantly related to his -great-grandfather; for as Adam was the first of my ancestors, and all -his race sprang from Eve, there was some connection between us, either -by blood or matrimony--Do you remember your father?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered Ferdinand, "I was but a mere boy when he died."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, then you were not long acquainted," said the jester. "I remember -mine quite well, and how he used to tickle me with his beard--that's -longer ago than you recollect, or than you could if you would, for to -ask you for a long memory in your short life, would be like putting a -gallon of wine into a pint stoup--But I'll tell you a story, cousin."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is it about?" asked Ferdinand, drinking some of the wine out of -the cup he held in his hand. "Is it a story of fate, or about the -Saracens, or of knightly deeds here in our own land?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"A little of all, a little of all, cousin," answered the jester. "It's -a Saturday's stew, containing fragments of all things rich and rare, -with a sauce of mine own composing. Now listen and you shall hear. -Once upon a time there was a prince--we'll call him prince for want of -a better name; without offence too, for a prince may be a gentleman -sometimes--well, this prince lived at ease in his own land--for you -see he had neither wife nor child to vex him--and a very merry prince -he was. Well might he be so, too, for everybody did just what he -liked, and he drank the best wine and ate the best meat, and slept -upon good goose-feathers which he had not the trouble of plucking; and -then, moreover, he had a jester who was fit to make any heart gay. -Besides this jester, he had a brother, a wise man and a thoughtful, -full of all sorts of learning; for they wished to make a bishop of -him, but he loved the sword better than the coif, and all he learned -in the convent was Latin and Greek, and reading and writing, and -Aristotle, and Duns Scotus, and to love nobody better than himself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" exclaimed Ferdinand, beginning to think that he perceived some -drift in the man's tale, but he made no observation, and the jester -continued.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, the prince loved his brother very much, and they lived together -in the same castle, and passed their time pleasantly; they hunted -together, and they made a little war, and then they made a little -peace; and while the men at arms played at mutton-bones in the -court-yard, the two lords played at chess in the hall--and I can tell -you, that though the brother, won the first game, the prince won the -second, and the jester stood by and laughed. Merrily passed, the time, -and if men would but be contented in this world, life would be like a -summer day, but the brother was always urging the prince to this war -or that, for the glory of their house, as he called it; and sometimes -he went himself, and sometimes he stayed at home to take care of the -castle, while the prince followed his advice; and then the brother one -day thought it would be a good thing for the prince to go and visit -Jerusalem, and that it would be honourable, as he knew something of -hard blows and of leading armies, to help the knights hospitallers and -other sagacious men who were fighting for the pure pleasure of the -thing, to get lands which they could not keep when they had got them. -And the prince thought it a very good plan; and as he had got a great -number of chests full of money, he went away to sow it in the fields -of Syria, and to see if it would grow there. As he had a multitude of -stout young men, too, who always required bleeding in the summer time, -he took them with him, but as his brother was of a cold constitution, -he left him at home to keep house. Now the prince having neither wife -nor child, his dear brother was his heir."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I see," said Ferdinand. "Go on, Herr!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Before they went," continued the jester, "the brother had a good deal -of talk with some of the prince's followers, and told them how much he -loved their dear lord. He did not say that he wished him dead; oh -dear, no, that was not the way at all; but he told them all that he -would do if he were prince, and how he would promote them, and left -Sir Satan, the king of all evil imaginations, to deal with their -consciences as he might find expedient. Well, the prince went away, -and took with him his jester as his chief counsellor, though he never -took his counsel either, for if he had he would have staid at home. -But so they went on up by the Boden Sea, and then by the Vorarlberg -and through the Tyrol, kissing the Emperor's hand at Inspruck, and -then came to Venice, and there they had an audience of the Duke; and -at Venice they staid a long time, for there was a fair Venetian lady -that the prince loved passing well--" and the jester paused, and gazed -thoughtfully into the fire for several moments.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That has nothing to do with my tale, however," he continued, at -length. "The prince went on, and after long journeying, he came to the -place whither he was going; and though it was once a land flowing with -milk and honey, very little honey and no milk was to be found there -then. So, to keep down their appetites, he and his followers took to -fighting in real earnest; one day, however, a certain officer of the -prince, and a great friend of his brother's, brought him word that -there were a number of Moslem in a valley not far from the castle -where they were, and that if he would go out with his men, while the -knights of the hospital guarded the castle, he might have them all as -cheap as gudgeons. The prince had some doubts of his friend, and sent -out for better intelligence, but finding that all that he said seemed -very true, he got upon horseback, and sallied forth with his people. -About three or four miles from the castle, however, he was suddenly -surrounded and attacked on all sides by a number of the Moslem, of -whom his officer had quite forgotten to tell him, though they had been -watching there since daybreak. Nevertheless he fought tolerably well, -considering he was a prince, and he and his men might perhaps have got -out of the trap, by the force of impudence and a strong arm, if his -friend the officer had not come behind him just then and struck him a -gentle stroke, with something sharp, in the neck, about the place -where the gorget joins the cuirass. Upon that the prince incontinent -tumbled headlong off his horse; the Moslem closed in on all sides, and -with their sharp scimeters sent the heads flying about like pippins -shaken off a tree. All were killed or taken except one, who got -through and galloped away, first carrying the news of the defeat to -the knights of St. John in the castle, and then to the prince's -brother at home."</p> - -<p class="normal">"This was of course the traitor who murdered his lord," exclaimed -Ferdinand, who had listened with ever-growing interest.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh dear, no," replied the jester; "his friends the Moslem kept him, -but thought he would be safer in two pieces, and so they separated his -head from his shoulders."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A very wise precaution," answered Ferdinand, "the true way of -recompensing traitors. And what became of the jester? He was taken -prisoner, I suppose?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, he was," answered his companion. "But now listen; I am coming to -the most curious part of my story, and that is the history of the -prince's followers after they were dead. One clear, moonlight night, I -have heard say, just as they were all lying in the rocky valley, where -they had fallen, and their bones, well picked by the wild beasts of -that country, were shining white amongst the bushes and large stones, -there came suddenly amongst them a tall thin figure, like a shadow on -the wall, through which you could see the rocks, and the branches, and -the round-faced moon, just as if it had been the horn-plate of a -lantern; and it stooped over the bones, and looked at them, and -counted them one by one, and then it said to each fleshless head, -separately,--'The man whose insinuations brought about your death, has -strangled me in the vaults of his castle, though he knew that I was -innocent. Rise up, then, all that were true to their prince, and come, -let us to his brother's house, and plague him night and day,--at his -board, and in his bed. Let us give him no rest so long as he remains -upon the earth!'</p> - -<p class="normal">"The moment he had spoken, slowly rising out of the ground, came a -number of thin, shadowy figures, like himself, and they mounted calmly -into the air, and floated away towards this land, just as you see a -cloud rise out of the west, and soar slowly along, casting a shadow as -it flies. Where they went to, and what they did, let the wise say; I -know not. Only this I know, and that I heard from one who saw it, that -the prince's followers, a great many years after they were killed and -lying on the dry Syrian ground, rose up, man by man, each just like -his own living self, and came away to their own land to torment their -good lord's bad brother. One, indeed, remained behind, but he was the -man who smote his prince in the neck when he was contending with the -infidels; but doubtless the Moslem pickled him, for he was worth -preserving, and salt meat keeps better than fresh, you know, Sir -Ferdinand."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XII.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand's teeth were set hard, and his hands clasped tight together -as the jester's story ended, and for a moment or two he did not speak; -but at length he inquired, "And how long was it ago that the good lord -fell?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, a long while," answered his companion, "long enough for young men -to grow old, and for old men to wither and rot. Some twenty years ago -or more. Lackaday how few twenties there are in life. Twenty and -twenty are forty, and twenty are sixty: how few see the fourth twenty! -Who sees the fifth? The first begins in the infant, with a passion for -milk; all mouth and no wit; and ends in the youth with a love for -sweet ankles and for cherry lips; all heart and no brains. The second -starts on his course like a swallow catching insects, and ends like a -slough-hound upon the track of a deer: ambition flies before and -distances him still. Then begins another twenty, with the hard brain -and the hard heart; your man of manifold experiences, who finds no -pleasure in pippins, and is mailed against the darts of a dark eye. He -must have solid goods, forsooth! and so chooses gold, which will not -decay; but, good faith! it matters little whether it be the possession -which decays, or the possessor, whether the gilded coin rots, or the -fingers that clutch it: the two part company all the same. Then comes -the fourth twenty, often begun and seldom ended; and we go creeping -backward, as if we would fain run away from the other end of life; top -please as, straws offend us; we stumble at the same mole-hills that -tripped up our infancy. Time rubs off from the score of memory what -experience had written; and when the sorrowful soft gums have eaten -their second pap, death takes us sleepy up and puts us quietly to bed. -It was twenty years ago, good youth,--ay, that it was,--and twenty -years is one of those strange jumps that are more wisely taken -backwards than forwards."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Methinks," said Ferdinand, "that though the time is so long, I know -something of this story, too--". But before he could add more, a -slight sort of creaking noise was heard proceeding from the end of the -hall, near the chair of state. Ferdinand, whose face was already in -that direction, and the jester who suddenly turned round, saw the -small door which has been so often mentioned open slowly, exposing the -mouth of the passage beyond.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, who have we here?" cried the jester. "Some of our friends from -over the sea, I suppose;" but no one appeared, and all was silent. -Both the watchers rose, and gazed for a minute or two towards the -door; Ferdinand grasping the cross of his sword, but the jester -showing no sign either of alarm or surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"By my faith!" he exclaimed, at length, "I will see what is beyond, -there. Will you come with me youth, or shall I go alone?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I should think from the tale you have told," answered Ferdinand, -"that you know your way right well without guidance. But I will go -with you, whatever is there--I have been once, and will not be stopped -from going again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come along, then," answered the jester. "Let us each take a lamp, -cousin, for the dead must lack lights, as they always choose to walk -in darkness. Why is a ghost like a flagon of wine?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I know not," answered Ferdinand, "and to say truth, I am in no -jesting mood just now."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because it comes out of the vault at midnight," answered the jester, -"and where it enters there it scatters men's wits about. Happy he who -has none to scatter. But come along, cousin, we'll soon see whether -our spirits are equal to theirs--I feel rather queer, but a mole -wouldn't mind it, for he's accustomed to holes in the earth."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he led the way to the door, and entered the long narrow -passage, Ferdinand following, and each carrying a lamp. The jester's -young companion, though busied with many other thoughts, watched his -movements closely, in order to obtain a confirmation or refutation of -the suspicions which his tale had excited.</p> - -<p class="normal">Those suspicions, however, were strengthened by all that the young man -remarked, "Damp, damp and chilly, as a rich man's heart," murmured the -jester, as he advanced; and then, as if his knowledge of the passages -which they were following was not of a few hours' growth, he laid his -hand upon the door, at the farther end, and without hesitation drew it -towards him, choosing at once the way which it really opened. He next -passed on down the stone steps, without a moment's pause to consider, -merely turning round and saying, "Take care of your lamp, cousin, for -a light extinguished in this world is not easily lighted again, -whether it be love's lamp or life's. A puff puts them out, but a puff -won't bring them in again. By the mass! the stones are somewhat -slippery, and as much out of repair as a fool's head or a -spendthrift's purse. I must mind my way; for here, as on ambition's -ladder, a small slip would make a great tumble."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By my faith! you seem to know your way right well, Herr von Narren," -said Ferdinand, "better than I do, methinks."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, ay, folly finds the straight road, while wisdom is looking for -the short cut," answered the jester. "One can't well miss their way -when there is but one. But there seem no ghosts here, except the -spirit of Mistress Mildew, and she is very prevalent. We shall lose -our time, and get no payment for chilling our bones, if we get no -better apparition than this green slime. I would give a great deal to -see a ghost. I never met with one in all my travels."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps you may be gratified to-night," rejoined Ferdinand, "for here -they wander, if anywhere."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If anywhere!" exclaimed the jester, "did any one ever hear such -heretical unbelief? We know that the church supports them, because, I -suppose, the poor things are too thin and unsubstantial to stand of -themselves. However, here we are at the bottom; praised be Heaven's -mercy in not bringing us there sooner! And here is a door. Now, marry, -you and other men of shrewd wits would doubtless be looking for -another, but I take the one that stands before me, the sunshine of my -darkness teaching me that that which is at hand is always nearer than -that which is far off. Now let us see, it should be pulled this way, -by the look of the lock and the hinges, but if it be locked, what -then?" and he paused for a minute or two seeming to consider curiously -the question before he proceeded to ascertain the fact.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come, come, Herr von Narren," said Ferdinand, "you know it opens this -way well enough, and doubtless it is not locked, and if it be, I have -a key that will open it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What! then you come hither often," said the jester, "no wonder you -are less afraid of haunted places than the rest."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not come here often," said Ferdinand, somewhat vexed at the -incautious admission he had made, "I have been here but once in my -life before, and even that I do not wish mentioned," and stretching -forth his arm, he pulled back the door, before which his companion was -apparently inclined to hold a long parley.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Bless the lad's heart!" cried the jester, "he seems to think that -his light words will stay in a fool's head for an hour. My brain is -not bird-lime, boy, to catch your fluttering things, and put them in -the trap. But now, what place is this?" and he took a step forward and -looked round, holding up the lamp in his hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is the Serf's Burial-Vault," answered Ferdinand, in a low voice, -remembering, with a sensation of awe that he could not overcome, the -strange and fearful sights which he had there beheld.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hold up your lamp," said the jester, in a grave tone, "I wish to see -around me."</p> - -<p class="normal">But the darkness, as before, was too thick to be pierced for any -distance by the feeble rays of the two lamps, and the next moment, to -his surprise, the young man heard his companion demand aloud, "Where -art thou, Walter?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here!" answered a deep tone instantly; and following the sound, the -jester advanced direct towards the column, to which the skeleton was -bound by the chain. There he paused, and gazed upon it, as if that had -been the object he sought; and the emotions which he experienced, -whatever they were, seemed to overpower him, and make him forget for -the time the presence of his companion. His eyes filled with tears, -"Honest, and faithful, and true," he cried, "and was this the fate -reserved for thee? All could be forgiven but this--This cannot, if -there be justice on earth or in heaven," and bending down his head, he -slightly raised the bony fingers in his own, and pressed his lips upon -the mouldering joints.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a faint sound, as of sobbing loud, but Ferdinand's strange -companion took no notice of it, and continued gazing upon the skeleton -for several minutes, with a look of deep and intense thought in his -eye, as it wandered up and down the fleshless limbs. Then suddenly -turning away, he said, "Come on," and striding forward to the further -side of the vault, he passed through the archway into the crypt or -lower chapel. Taking no notice of several of the monuments on either -side, and only giving a glance to the coffins, he went straight to the -tomb of grey marble, on which was sculptured a lady in the attitude of -prayer, and there kneeling for a few moments by the side, he seemed to -busy himself in silent devotions. After which, rising he turned to -Ferdinand, and said, in a mild but no sportive tone, "It is done. Go -back to the hall, good youth, and wait for me there. I will not be -long, and nothing will annoy you by the way."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand might think it all strange, but yet the words of his -companion seemed to have a power over him which he could not resist, -and turning back he retrod his steps to the hall, where, after having -closed the door, he seated himself before the fire to wait for the -jester's return.</p> - -<p class="normal">Light-hearted youth, that season of great powers and small -experiences, may feel strong and deep emotions, but their influence, -on the corporeal frame at least, is not very permanent. Weary with a -long day's exertion, and having had little rest for the three or four -nights preceding, Ferdinand's eyes felt heavy; and that pleasant -languor which precedes sleep stole over his limbs. He wished to remain -awake; but yet he leaned back for support against the stone-work of -the wide chimney; and in a few minutes he nodded, woke up again, and -then fell into sound slumber. He was awakened by a heavy hand grasping -his shoulder; and looking round he saw the jester standing beside him, -with the fire in its last embers, on the hearth, and the lamps burning -dim.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must wake you, cousin," said his companion. "For we shall soon have -Madam Morning winking at us with her old grey eye. Sleep is better -than waking for some good reasons, but it must come to an end, coz!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is it so late?" asked Ferdinand. "I thought that I had just closed my -eyes!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, that is the blessing of youth," said the jester; "he thinks not, -either sleeping or waking. He dreams while he is waking, and forgets -while he is sleeping, and therein has he the two best gifts that man -can covet--to dream and to forget."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I doubt not, from all I see," answered the young man, "that there are -many things you would wish to forget, were it possible."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hark ye, cousin," said the jester; "one thing we had both better try -to forget, to-wit, that we have been in those vaults together. I have -a secret of yours, you have one of mine. We will each keep what we -have got, and give it away to nobody, for that would be thriftless."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I have nought to tell," answered Ferdinand; "though perhaps -something to inquire, Herr von Narren. I may suspect, and I do; but I -can do no more than suspect. But one thing I must ask; what you came -here for? as I can know of no evil to my lord without preventing it, -otherwise I am a traitor!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, what evil can I do?" asked the jester, with a smile; "what power -have I? Is the fool's bauble equal to a baron's sword? Good faith! I -will go to the wars, and turn out a great conqueror.--I intend your -lord no harm, cousin."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you said there was something not to be forgiven," replied -Ferdinand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nor will it," said his companion, somewhat sternly; "if there be -justice in Heaven; but to Heaven I leave it; and in its own good time -I doubt not to see vengeance fall where it ought. What is it that you -suspect?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That you were the follower of the late Count of Ehrenstein," answered -Ferdinand, frankly; "the jester you mentioned in the tale you told; -and that even now you seek to revenge the Count's death."</p> - -<p class="normal">His companion laughed aloud. "How thy wits jump!" he said; "but in one -way, like an ill-broken colt, they jump too far. I seek not to avenge -that Count's death; and by all that I hold sacred, I myself will never -attempt it; so let that satisfy thee, good youth."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And yet, perhaps, I ought to inform the Count of who you are;" -replied the young man, thoughtfully.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That you cannot do," answered the jester; "and if you believe that -the tale I told applies to your lord and his brother, you neither will -nor ought. Vipers have viper's eggs--rogues serve rogues; and the -blood in your veins would cry out against you, if you were to make -your mind the bondsman of a felon. If you think my tale is true, quit -this household in silence, for your own honour; if you do not believe -the tale to be applicable here, remain in silence. But if you would -needs speak, I will seal your lips with one word."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay! what is that?" asked Ferdinand, in some surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Adelaide!" answered the jester, fixing his keen eyes upon him. "Is -there nothing, good youth, that you seek to conceal as well as myself; -nay, far more than I do? for I have nought to fear--you much. I care -not; but that it would sadden merry meetings, and break off gay -intercourse, if your good Count should know all that you know, and -more.--Indeed, I promise you, that ere I depart from this -neighbourhood, he shall hear the whole tale. He would less dare to wag -a finger against me, protected as I am, than jump from the top of the -keep; but I must choose my own time and my own way to speak, and it -must not be now."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand had coloured high when the name of Adelaide was pronounced, -and now he remained silent while his companion went on in a tone so -different from that which he generally used in his jester's capacity. -An instant after, however, the other suddenly resumed his ordinary -manner, and exclaimed, "So that is settled between the two fools who -sat up all night watching for that which did not come.--Marry, had we -liked it, cousin, we might have proved ourselves the wise men of the -party; for with plenty of wine and good cheer, we had wherewithal to -be merry and wise. Now, however, we are sorry fools; for we have -neither emptied the flagons nor cleared the dishes, and vinegar will -be cheap in the market if all that wine stands there much longer."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It may serve as a bribe to bring some of the knaves in by daylight, -to clear away the tables," answered Ferdinand. "There is more than one -amongst them who would sell his own soul for a flagon of strong -drink."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then is his soul dirt cheap, or a very bad one," answered the jester; -"but, on my life, I believe the market price of men's souls is half a -florin; for day by day we see them sold for less. The twinkle of a -girl's eyes is current coin against such commodities; the pottle-pot -drives a thriving trade in the mart of spirits; and two small pieces -of ivory spotted with black, have nearly emptied the world's fold of -its true sheep. But there comes the morning. See the panes of glass in -the casement are looking grey, we shall soon have the sun up, red and -blear-eyed like a drunkard who has sat up all night with the stoup. -I'll hie me to bed, for my wit will want activity, and, good faith! it -is getting somewhat weak in the knees."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It must be a heavy task to be ever ready with a jest, even when the -heart is sad," said Ferdinand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What! a heavy task to find light wit?" exclaimed the jester. "No, -good youth; let a man but look at life as he ought, and the burden is -easily borne. All things here are but jests; some sour, some sweet; -some light, some heavy. If we cannot laugh with, we can laugh at; and -but get your wit into a cantering habit, and he'll forget his grave -paces and trip lightly along the road. Habit, habit, habit, cousin! -everything is habit in this world. What is that makes the man eat what -the child rejects? Custom. What makes us endure a load of clothes that -Heaven never intended us to wear? Custom. Put a pair of tawny leather -shoes upon a child's bare feet, and he will stumble over the rushes on -the floor; yet, see how gaily the youth will trip along, as if he had -been born into the world booted and spurred. The eye and the ear, the -tongue and the nose, all have their habits. Go into a strange land, -and you will split your sides at the odd dresses of the people. Stay -there a year, and you will think your own countrymen as comical. The -blast of the trumpet cracks a lady's ears; ask the knight and his war -horse if ever they heard sweeter music. Good sooth! I do believe, if -men ate dirt and ashes for a month, they would think them better than -stewed ducks or a brawn's head; and thus with me, though jesting be a -sorry trade enough when the heart is full or the stomach empty, yet, -either from lack of continence, or discretion, I began early, and now -the jest always gets the better of the lamentation, and finds vent -first. But look at the red light on the floor. It is time for night -fowls to roost. Give you good morning, cousin Ferdinand, I am away to -my pallet."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XIII.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The morning was dull and heavy, though fully risen, when Ferdinand of -Altenburg was summoned to the Count's chamber; but by that time he -could bear the tidings to his lord that all had been cleared away from -the hall at the sacrifice of the wine which had been left there.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Enough was left, indeed, to render the knaves half drunk," he added; -"but it had the effect of making them swear, by all they held sacred, -that they will never shun the hall again, if it were haunted by whole -troops of goblins."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We shall not need to try them, Ferdinand," replied the Count. "We -must change our plan, good youth. We must not have our food poisoned -by doubts and fears."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count spoke thoughtfully, pausing when he had done; and Ferdinand -replied, "I am glad you have taken such a resolution; my good lord. It -is true, I fear these things not; but still it is high time that -something should be done to inquire into this matter, or to remove it. -You have yourself now heard, and I have seen strange things, of which, -I trust, some holy man, some priest of a good and saintly life, may be -able to free us."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," replied the Lord of Ehrenstein, "we will have no priests, -lad, nor monks either. They can do nought in this or aught else, but -in crafty policy, where the hundred-headed and perpetual monster sets -all her everlasting wits to work. I know their ways right well, for I -was bred to be one of them.--No, no! We will have no priests to meddle -and to babble here, and tell the broad world that I was plagued with -spirits at my very hearth. That were an old woman's remedy, and I will -not submit myself to such were there none other in the world. Not so, -not so will we set to work; but for the future we will take our meals -in separate parties: some in the lesser hall, some in the two rooms on -either side--but what makes you look so dull, as if your mind were -roaming to other things?--You were not disturbed, you say?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh no, my lord, this last night I saw nothing," answered Ferdinand; -"but I am weary and feel heavy eyed, having slept but little for -several nights."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, hie thee to bed then for a while," replied the Count; but he -was not yet satisfied; for there were signs rather of thought than of -slumber in the young man's face; and with suspicions, aroused of he -knew not well what, he resolved to watch him more carefully.</p> - -<p class="normal">The day passed nearly without events. The whole party seemed relieved, -when they found that the haunted hall was no more to be visited. The -Count and his noble guest walked for a great part of the morning on -the battlements, in earnest conversation; the knights and soldiers -amused themselves with the sports and games of the day in the courts -and chambers, and the hour of noon brought with it the usual meal. -During the whole morning, Adelaide and Ferdinand did not meet; and -even at dinner, by the Count's arrangement, the young man was sent to -superintend another room, where a table was spread for some of the -chief officers of both households. One glance as he passed through the -hall was all that he obtained, and he thought that Adelaide's eyes -looked anxious. Count Frederick was standing on one side of the lady, -and his young follower, Martin of Dillberg, on the other, as the lover -crossed the hall; and on the face of Dillberg there were smiles and -sweet looks, which made Ferdinand's breast feel warm with sensations -he had never before experienced. Doubt or suspicion, in regard to -Adelaide herself, he could not entertain; but yet jealousy has many -stages, and Ferdinand hated Count Frederick's follower heartily from -that moment. He felt--or fancied that they were rivals, and perhaps, -in the whole range of bitter emotions, there is none more painful than -that which we endure, when we know that even for a time a rival has -the ear of her we love. At the meal, he tried to be cheerful as well -as courteous, and though it cost him a great effort to conceal his -uneasiness, yet his manner was so pleasing to all, that he rose high -in the opinion of Count Frederick's train, and even at the table, -almost within his own hearing, comparisons were made between him and -Martin of Dillberg not very favourable to the latter.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I love him not," said one; "I never have; and the more I see of him -the less I like him. Were he like this young squire, one could -understand our lord's favour for him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay," answered an elder man to whom he had been speaking, "our lord -will rue that favour one of these days. He is cunning and false, ever -making his own tale good, and seeking to injure others. I never saw -one yet, who was so artful and malicious when he was young, that did -not commit some treachery before he was old."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, the Count is beginning to know him, I believe," rejoined the -first, "saw you not how he chid him for the falsehood he told of -Sigismond. He would have done better to send him away at once; but he -bears with him because his father was a good soldier and an honest -man."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, and his mother a devil incarnate," answered the other. "She broke -his father's heart, betrayed his honour, and ruined him; and this -youth is her very image."</p> - -<p class="normal">In such comments, more than one at the table indulged very freely; but -Ferdinand heard them not, for he was conversing somewhat eagerly with -one of Count Frederick's younger knights, though the subject was of no -greater interest than the history of the jester. Ferdinand sought for -information to confirm or remove the suspicions he entertained, but he -could obtain little, and indeed his companion did not seem disposed to -communicate much. "I was with a different band," he said, in answer to -one of the young man's questions, "when this man joined the Count."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then he did join him in the Holy Land?" asked Ferdinand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I believe so," was the reply, "but I know nought as certain. He might -have known the Count before."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have heard he saved your leader's life," said the young man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, so they say," rejoined the knight. "I was not present, and know -nothing of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">All further questions were equally fruitless, and Ferdinand turning -the conversation to the subject which the others had been discussing, -inquired, "Who is Martin of Dillberg, whom your lord seems also to -love right well?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, that is a mistake," answered the knight. "He shows him favour, -it is true; but I have twice seen the question hang in the balance -whether my lord would not strike his head off, once for taking a jewel -off a dead man's hand, and once for betraying counsel. But he is as -cunning as a fox, and raised a doubt, by one means or another, as to -whether he did not intend to carry the ring to the widow. The other -fault was forgiven on the score of youth, but with a warning, that if -he so offended again, death would be his doom without reprieve."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perchance he is valiant in arms," said Ferdinand; "I have ever heard -that Count Frederick will forgive much to gallant men."</p> - -<p class="normal">His companion smiled and shook his head, saying, "He is no great -seeker of renown, this youth. Yet he is brave after a certain fashion -too. There are some men, and he is one of them, who would risk ten -times the danger of a battle-field, to accomplish a small matter -cunningly. He seems to enjoy his own art so much, that if it costs his -life he must practise it, especially if it be to the injury of -others."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A pleasant comrade in a band like yours," rejoined Ferdinand; and -there the conversation dropped.</p> - -<p class="normal">The meal was drawing near its conclusion, when some noise was heard in -the adjoining hall, of a different kind from that which had preceded, -though in those days, as often at present, the hour of dinner was a -noisy one. The Count of Ehrenstein's voice could be distinguished -asking questions with angry vehemence, and every now and then another -answering, while the tones of Count Frederick joined in from time to -time even more sharply.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is the matter in there, Henry?" asked Ferdinand, as one of the -sewers passed through, bearing some dishes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A party of Venetian traders, Sir, have been stopped, and plundered -beyond Anweiler," replied the man, "and it seems they had gold with -them belonging to Count Frederick; so they have sent up to seek -redress and help. One of them has been killed, they say."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who has done it?" asked the young gentleman. "I thought such bands -had been put down."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, it is the Baron of Eppenfeld," said the sewer; "he will never -give up that trade; and his place is so strong, it will be difficult -to force him."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he went on, and the thoughts of all present turned to the -results that were likely to ensue from the event that had just -occurred. "Count Frederick will not be long out of the saddle," -observed one of his attendants; "it is not well to pull the beard of -an old lion."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I doubt we shall have enough here to right the affair," rejoined an -old soldier; "it is unlucky that one-half of the band marched on."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But the Count of Ehrenstein will not suffer his friend to go -unaided," answered Ferdinand. "He can call out two hundred men at -arms."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That would indeed be serviceable," said the knight, "and doubtless he -will do it; for I have heard that this gold belonged to the late -Count, and was found safely treasured in a castle of the Knights' -Hospitallers on the coast."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand was about to answer, when old Seckendorf put in his head, -exclaiming, "Here, here, Ferdinand, the Count would speak with you;" -and instantly rising, the young man followed into the neighbouring -hall. He found the two Counts apparently much excited, speaking -together eagerly, and a tall grave looking elderly man in foreign -garments standing beside them, occasionally joining in their -conversation, which went on for some time after Ferdinand of Altenburg -had entered.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length the Count of Ehrenstein turned towards him, saying, "Here is -an occasion for you, Ferdinand. The Baron of Eppenfeld has waylaid -these merchants on their way hither,--from good information of their -coming it would seem, but how obtained, Heaven knows. He has seized -all their baggage, and in it treasure belonging to me. It is judged -but courteous to suppose that he is ignorant, that I am interested, -and therefore, instead of going in arms to demand reparation at once, -I send to claim that all be instantly restored to these noble -merchants, and that compensation be given for the death of one of -their valets and the wounds of another: that compensation to be -awarded by myself and Count Frederick here. You shall be my messenger; -take with you ten men at your choice, and depart at once, so that you -be back before morning. If Eppenfeld will restore all and make -compensation, well; if not, defy him in my name and in that of Count -Frederick. The task is one of honour, though of some danger; but I -know it will not be less pleasant to you on that account."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thank you, my good lord," replied Ferdinand; "but let me know my -errand fully. If the Baron seeks to delay his reply, how am to act? It -is now one of the clock, ride as hard as I will, I shall not reach his -castle gates till five; and he may say that he will give me an answer -in the morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay not an hour," replied the Count. "I would not have you, or any -of your troop, either break bread or taste wine within his gates, till -the answer is given. If he says Yes, you may refresh yourselves and -the horses. If he says No, return at once, and rest at Anweiler. If he -seeks delay, give him half an hour, and tell him such are our express -commands. Now away, good youth, to make ready. You must all go armed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will do your will to the best, my lord," answered Ferdinand, and -with a glance to the pale cheek of Adelaide, he was turning to leave -the hall, when Count Frederick called him back, and drawing him to the -window, said, in a low voice, "I would fain have you, my dear lad, -discover, if possible, how this worthy knight obtained intelligence of -the merchants' journey. I must leave the means to yourself; but I have -my reasons for the inquiry--I fear this may be a dangerous expedition -for you," he added.</p> - -<p class="normal">"More full of danger than honour, my good lord," answered Ferdinand. -"Small chance of fair fighting: much of being caught like a rat in a -trap. But I will do my best, and have nought but to obey."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he left the hall, not daring to turn his eyes to Adelaide -again; and the party he left soon broke up, Count Frederick saying he -had a vow to perform at the chapel of the Virgin, and that he would -ride out to fulfil it between that hour and supper time.</p> - -<p class="normal">Choosing his men from those on whom he could best depend, Ferdinand -descended for a moment to the court, gave orders for the horses to be -saddled, and all prepared without a moment's delay, and then mounted -to his own chamber to arm himself in haste. He had nearly done, and -heard gay voices speaking on the battlements far below, when someone -knocked gently at his door.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come in," cried the young man; and Bertha appeared, with a face half -frightened, half playful.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your lady wishes to speak with you for a moment before you go, Sir -Scapegrace," said the girl in a low tone. "She is in the corridor -below, and all the rest are out of the way for a minute or two, so -make haste;" and without more words she hastened away, leaving the -door ajar.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand lost no time; but, as ever is the case when one attempts to -abridge a necessary process, one thing went wrong, and then another, -so that he was longer than he would have been had he been less in -haste. At length, however, all was complete; and hurrying down, he -found Adelaide waiting anxiously near the door of her own apartments, -with Bertha at a little distance towards the top of the great stairs. -As soon as she saw him, the lovely girl sprang towards him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, Ferdinand," she said, "I have longed to speak with you all the -morning; but the castle has been so full, that it would have been -madness to attempt it; and now you are going whence you may, -perchance, never return. At all events, you cannot be back in time to -do what is required."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fear not for me, dear one," answered Ferdinand, "neither imagine that -I will linger for a moment by the way, if Adelaide has aught to -command me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, it is not I who command," replied his beautiful companion with a -faint blush, "it is Father George who requires that you and I together -shall be at the chapel to-night, some time between midnight and dawn."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" said Ferdinand, "does he explain for what object?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No. Three or four words written in a billet, closely sealed, were all -the intimation I have had," answered Adelaide.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And would you go if it were possible, dear girl?" inquired her lover.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will do whatever he directs," replied the lady.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, if there be a means of any kind, I will be back;" said -Ferdinand. "Do not retire to rest till all hope of my coming is over -for the night; but, as perchance, I might be detained, it were better -to send down Bertha to the good priest to let him know, that if not -there to-night, we will come to-morrow night without fail, if I be -alive and free."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, Bertha raised her hand suddenly as a warning, and -Adelaide was drawing back to her own apartments; but Ferdinand -detained her, saying, "Do not seem alarmed--'tis our own hearts make -us fear. I may well bid you adieu as I should any other lady;" and -bending his head over her hand, he kissed it, saying aloud, "Farewell, -lady--God shield you ever!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Farewell, Ferdinand," said Adelaide, in a tone that somewhat wavered; -and, at the same moment, Bertha drew nearer, and Martin of Dillberg -entered the corridor from the great stairs. His eyes were turned -instantly towards the two lovers, and although Bertha was by this time -close to them with waitingmaid-like propriety, yet the youth's lip -curled with a smile, of not the most benevolent aspect.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Farewell, pretty Bertha," said Ferdinand, as soon as he saw Count -Frederick's follower; and then, passing him with very slight -salutation, he hurried away, while Adelaide retired at once to her own -chamber. The men and horses were not yet prepared; and as Ferdinand -was standing armed in the court waiting for their appearance, the -Count, with his guest, the priest, and the jester, passed by. The -Count's eye rested on him, but he did not address him; and as the -party walked on, the young man heard the Lord of Ehrenstein reply to -some question of Count Frederick's: "Yes, he is always prompt and -ready--brave as a lion, too, fearing nothing, living or dead; but -there has come over him to-day a sort of dull gloom which I do not -understand."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand heard no more; and in five minutes after he was in the -saddle, and at the head of his troop, wending onward on his -expedition. Crossing the valley, he followed the course of the -opposite hills, as if he were journeying to Dürkheim, till he had -passed the Abbey about two miles, where a small village, commanding a -beautiful view of the basin of the Rhine, presented itself; and -turning through it to the right, he was pursuing his way, when a loud -voice from a blacksmith's forge called him by name; and he checked his -horse for a moment.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Whither away, Sir? whither away?" asked Franz Creussen, coming forth -with his enormous arms bare to the shoulders.</p> - -<p class="normal">"To Eppenfeld," answered Ferdinand, "the Baron has waylaid some -merchants bringing gold to the Count; and I am sent to ask him to give -it up,--I cannot stay to tell you more, Franz, but doubt I may stay -longer where I am going, and perchance need arms as strong as yours to -get me out."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Likely enough," replied the giant; "when come you back, if they will -let you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"As fast as my horse can carry me," answered the young man, and -galloped on, along one of the narrow hill paths that led towards -Anweiler, with an unrivalled view of the whole Palatinate below him on -the left, and, on the right, the mountains of the Haard, with their -innumerable castles, abbeys, and monasteries, crowning every peak, and -barring every gorge. When he reached the road from Landau to -Zweibrücken, near Anweiler, instead of following it far, he turned -away again before he had gone on a quarter of a mile, in the direction -of Weissenburg, and entered a dark and gloomy looking valley, where -rocks and trees were far more plentiful than churches or human -habitations. Closing in on either side, the high hills left but a -narrow space for the dell as it wound on, till at length, at a spot -where the basin extended a little, a tall rock rose up in the centre, -covered with wood wherever the roots could find earth to bear them, -and crowned with walls and towers above. Ferdinand gave his horse the -spur, and in a few minutes more stood before the gates of Eppenfeld.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XIV.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Before the small chapel in the wood, below the castle of Ehrenstein, -there was, as I have said, an open space of about half an acre. The -trees encroached upon it here and there, rendering the boundary-line -broken and irregular, detracting nought from the sylvan beauty of the -scene. On the contrary, the variety was pleasant to the eye; and the -old oaks and beeches, which, starting out before their fellows, -obtruded on the soft dry turf, rendered the sight more agreeable by -depriving it of all formality. It looked like a space for fairy -revels; and in truth, though the fathers, if they had seen any of the -little good people present, might have sent them roughly to some other -quarters, took no slight pleasure, as was commonly the case with the -monks, in the charms of the spot where they had fixed one of their -buildings, and would rather have forfeited a great deal than have cut -down one of the trees which formed the great ornament of the place. -The varied colours of the spring, the summer, and the autumn, afforded -much delight to the good old men. The sunshine, streaming through the -green leaves, was like the return of the summer of life to the winter -of their age; and it was the boast of the Lord Abbot--though he was -not otherwise than fond of venison--that neither stag, nor roe, nor -fallow-deer, had ever been slaughtered in those woods by his command. -Thus the wild creatures of the forest, who have more sense than we -give them credit for, looked upon the wood, within two or three -hundred yards of the chapel, as a place of refuge, a sort of -sanctuary; and the open space between the trees and the building as a -play-ground for their evening hours. The beams of the full day, -however, were pouring over the blades of grass, and tinging with -bright yellow the beech leaves above, when Count Frederick of -Leiningen, with a small party behind him, drew in his rein at the -chapel door. A groom sprang to his stirrup, and, dismounting more -lightly than from his age one would have judged possible, he entered -the chapel and bent his knee for some moments before the altar, in -prayer; then rising, he advanced towards the door of the little wing -inhabited by Father George, and, after knocking at it with his -knuckles, opened it and entered, beckoning the jester to follow. The -good priest was seated at a table reading, but he rose, when, by air -and manner, more than even by dress, he perceived the high rank of his -visitor. For a moment or two neither of the three spoke, and the eye -of the monk ran from the face of Count Frederick to that of the -jester, resting upon the latter long and steadfastly, with a sort of -inquiring look, as if he recognised features which he had seen in -times of old, and yet had some difficulty in assuring himself that -they were the same which he had beheld before the scorching blast of -time had passed over them.</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Frederick was the first who spoke, saying, "You do not remember -me, good father, though we have met often in early days, and more than -once some ten years ago; but I can easily forgive your forgetfulness, -for, good faith, the suns of Syria and Africa are not the greatest -beautifiers of man's person, and the change must be somewhat rueful. -You are little altered, since last I saw you; more silver than sable -in your hair now, it is true, but still the features are the same."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I remember you well, my good lord," replied the priest; "though you -are greatly changed, I own. Yet here is one I should remember better, -methinks; for, if my eyes deceive me not strangely, we have met more -often;" and as he spoke he laid his hand upon the jester's arm.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know not which is the greatest deceiver," cried the jester, with a -laugh; "a man's eyes or his ears; the one cheats him more often, the -other more deeply; but, by my faith! I know not why my lord called me -here. If you be old friends you will have old tales to tell, and I -never yet could listen patiently to an ancient story, or to the wit -and mirth of sixty years and upwards. My own jests are sufficient for -me, so, I pray you, jolly priest, don't flout me."</p> - -<p class="normal">Father George bent down his eyes thoughtfully on the ground, and then -shook his head somewhat mournfully, but looking up suddenly at length, -he said, addressing Count Frederick, "Well, my good lord, I am glad at -all events to see you safe returned. Have you any commands for me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"None, good father, none," replied Count Frederick. "I come but to ask -a question or two.--I have found at the castle a youth named Ferdinand -of Altenburg, who is he?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Methinks, noble lord," replied Father George; "that the name is -enough to show you that he is of a noble race and kin; not so rich as -he might be, perhaps, but still with the hope of rising in the world. -He was my ward, and is now in the train of the Count of Ehrenstein, -serving him well I trust, for he was always well disposed and -honourable."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So is a cat," replied the jester, "rather thievishly disposed towards -mice, but still an honourable beast, as the world goes, with a mighty -soft tread, and a sleek skin well smoothed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But he is thievishly disposed to no one," answered Father George.</p> - -<p class="normal">"By my faith! that is saying much for any man under ninety," rejoined -the jester; "for there are many kinds of thievishness, which assault -us at different stages of this world's journey; and I have seldom met -with the male thing of twenty, or thereabouts, that would not steal a -smile from beauty, or a heart if he could get it, in a very roguish -manner."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is lawful robbery," said the priest, with a smile, "against -which there is no commandment."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, if the church have its dues," cried the jester, "then things are -easily managed; but Heaven help me! I blame not the youth, nor call -him a cat either; I but said that Grimalkin is as honest as he."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But not so bold, so brave, and so true," answered Father George, -"else he belies his teaching."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He seems brave enough, in truth," answered Count Frederick, "for he -is even now gone to put his head into a lion's mouth."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! how is that?" exclaimed Father George, in evident surprise and -alarm; "I knew not that he was going anywhere."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has gone to beard the Baron of Eppenfeld in his hold," answered -the Count; "you can judge better, my good friend, what reception he is -likely to meet with than I can."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Comfortable lodging and good food," replied the jester, "if nothing -worse; but clean straw, and bread and water may serve a man's turn -very well, if it be not on compulsion. Compulsion is the salad of -bitter herbs, that makes all a man's meat have a hard flavour."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And when does he propose to come back?" asked the monk, without -noting Herr von Narren's words.</p> - -<p class="normal">"As soon as he can ride thither and return," said Count Frederick in -reply; "he may be back by nine, I should think."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He must have help in case of need," replied Father George, -thoughtfully.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That he shall have beyond all doubt," answered the nobleman; "depend -upon it, no wrong shall befall him without vengeance from my hand."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, that is the way with all these great lords," exclaimed the -jester; "vengeance is a part of their creed. Now a fool or a serf -would think it better to stop evil deeds than to punish them: if I -were to kill your horse, uncle, the beast would not be a bit better -off for knowing that my head would pay the penalty. I say, let those -who can, stop the doing of that which is amiss, and then there will be -no occasion for avenging it afterwards."</p> - -<p class="normal">He spoke with a good deal of emphasis, and then turned round to the -lattice-window and looked out, while the priest and his noble visitor -conversed for some few minutes apart.</p> - -<p class="normal">From time to time the eye of Count Frederick's strange companion -wandered from the space immediately opposite the chapel, and from the -group of attendants and men-at-arms it contained, up towards the -castle, with a marking and significant glance. Whether by accident or -design, I know not, but the chapel had been so built, that the window -of that room, although it could not command the whole extent of the -road, caught glimpses of it, even after the trees crossed it, at every -fifty or sixty yards along the whole extent, and after gazing forth -for two or three minutes, something seemed to catch and arrest the -man's attention; for he suddenly smiled, laid his finger on his -temple, and then, after having watched for a moment or two more, -turned quickly round, exclaiming, "Give you good day," uncle -Frederick; "I am away for a pot of honey, I see there;" and out of the -door he strode without awaiting an answer. Hurrying up the hill, -without mounting his horse, he had just passed the first turning in -the wood, when he suddenly came upon the pretty maid Bertha, tripping -down with a rapid step, and a cheek somewhat flushed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A fair afternoon to you, sweet lady," said the jester, taking her -hand; "whither away so fast?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am going to tell my beads at the chapel," said Bertha, evidently -discomposed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A pious undertaking," cried the jester, "and easily performed, too, -if there were none but pigeons in this world; but doves will meet with -hawks, pretty mistress, when they fly out alone; and if I mistake not, -something has ruffled your feathers."</p> - -<p class="normal">Bertha laughed, blushing, and replied: "You saw him, then, Sir?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I saw some one lay hold of you roughly," answered the jester; "but, -in truth, my eyes are somewhat dim; for the passing of years will -scratch the horn lantern, and though I came out to help you in case of -need, I could not distinguish who it was."</p> - -<p class="normal">"One of your good lord's followers," answered Bertha; "but it is no -matter, I trust he will be less saucy henceforth, for I threatened to -tell of him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If you threatened to tell and don't tell, pretty maid, be you sure -that he will read the riddle to his own advantage. Otherwise, he will -be as great a fool as I am, and I will leave him my cap and bauble for -a legacy."</p> - -<p class="normal">Just as the jester was uttering these words, the youth Martin of -Dillberg appeared coming down with a stealthy step; and Bertha's -companion exclaimed, "Ha! ha! Here we have him, and no tale told. For -this he shall be punished enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I beseech you," cried Bertha, "do him no harm! He is a saucy -boy; but he will not offend again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has offended often enough already," answered the jester, "but fear -not, pretty maid; I will not deal roughly. I will but set the dwarf -upon him, and for the next three days he will lead the life of a -strange fowl in a farm-yard--but see! as soon as his eye lights upon -me, he creeps away amongst the trees. That youth will fall upon some -evil thing before he is done. Now hie thee on to the chapel, and tell -thy beads in peace; though, Heaven help us! if all the love tales were -counted that lie under a rosary, they would drown the paters and aves, -I fear."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am going to tell no love tale," answered Bertha, colouring and -walking on. "I wish I had a love tale to tell."</p> - -<p class="normal">The jester laughed, and followed towards the chapel, saying, "It must -be a luckless place this castle of Ehrenstein, not to furnish a pretty -maiden with such a bosom-friend. Perhaps your sweet mistress cannot -say the same."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never pry into my mistress's affairs," cried Bertha, "I know -nothing of them."</p> - -<p class="normal">But the jester's keen eye was upon her as she spoke, and he exclaimed -with a provoking smile, "Ha! ha! thy warm cheek is as red as thy warm -lip, fair maid; and, on my troth, I can forgive Martin of Dillberg for -tasting both. Why, you tell-tale, if you guard your face no better, it -is useless putting a bridle on your tongue."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is because you tease me," answered Bertha, petulantly; "I declare, -Martin of Dillberg was better than you are, so I shall hurry on, and -do without your company."</p> - -<p class="normal">The jester followed, but not very rapidly; and when Bertha saw the -horsemen standing at the chapel gate, she paused, and seemed to -hesitate; but then taking heart of grace, she hastened forward again, -and, without looking to the right or left, approached the shrine.</p> - -<p class="normal">Her orisons were somewhat long, for the Count, and the jester, who had -again entered the good priest's cell, remained there for half an hour, -and when they came forth and rode on towards the Abbey, Bertha was -still at prayer.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XV.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">We are all well aware that there are certain of man's infirmities -which may be turned to serve his own purposes when the exercise of his -faculties might be dangerous or inconvenient. It may sometimes be -pleasant to have no eyes, sometimes to have no ears; and we have known -instances where it was believed judicious in certain parties to have -no legs, till they were found for them by other parties interested in -the progress of the recusants. Now the lords of Eppenfeld occasionally -judged it expedient to be extremely hard of hearing; and in order to -favour this infirmity as far as possible, no bell was attached to -their gates, though these tinkling instruments had long before been -introduced into common use, as the means of summoning porters or -warders to answer the inquiries of the stranger, or to open the doors -to the visitor. It would seem that they were fond of the usages of -antiquity, for the only means provided for making one's self heard -before their castle, was the long disused one of a large horn, -suspended under the arch of an outwork in advance of the drawbridge, -the sound of which might be heard or not by those within, as they -liked.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Baron of Eppenfeld was seated at table on the evening of the day -of which we have just been speaking, though the hour of dinner was -long past, and that of supper not yet arrived. Human nature, however, -is the same in all ages. We may smooth, and shape, and polish, and -gild the stone, but the material remains unchanged, and the same -propensities and habits become apparent whenever circumstances call -them into action. Lightly won, and lightly spent, was as true a maxim -in those days as in our own; and the predatory noble, or robber -knight, was as sure to wind up any successful expedition with revelry -and drunkenness, as the wrecker, the smuggler, or the footpad of -modern times. The Baron of Eppenfeld had made a glorious sweep of the -goods of the Venetian merchants; he had obtained more gold by an -enterprise of little difficulty or danger, than, had ever warmed -his coffers before; and, consequently, the choice vintages of his -cellars--though I cannot say they were the produce of his own -vineyards--were doomed to flow for himself and his soldiery, in honour -of the happy event. He was revelling then with the wine cup in his -hand, when the sound of the horn before the gates made itself heard in -the hall. He and his companions had drunk for many an hour, and the -eyes of several of the worthy gentlemen present were growing somewhat -glassy and unmeaning. The Baron's own head, however, seemed made of -the same cast-iron materials as his frame, and the quantity was -infinite which he could absorb without any apparent effect.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" he cried, as soon as the sound met his ear; "go and look through -the loophole, Stephen, and see who that is blowing the horn."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man to whom he spoke, rose, and carried his flushed countenance -and watery eyes to a loophole in the neighbouring tower, and after an -absence of about two minutes, returned to say, in not very distinct -tones,--"It is a youth, on horseback."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That young villain!--come for his share, I dare say," said the Baron. -"Well, we'll give him his share, and take it from him afterwards. He -has helped us to skin his lord, and so it is all fair for us to skin -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">A peal of laughter from his followers succeeded to this remarkably -just and honourable observation of the Baron of Eppenfeld, in the -midst of which the man Stephen grumbled forth, two or three times -before he could make himself heard--"This is not he, my lord. This -fellow's taller by a hand's breadth, and he has got a number of -knechts after him; so you had better look to yourself. I could not -count them, for they wavered about before my eyes as if they were -dancing."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That was because you are drunk, swine!" replied the Baron. -"Knechts!--what brings he knechts here for? Go you out, Fritz, and -look at them through the grate, and see how many there are, and what -they seek, if you can divine by any token, without speaking to them. -Don't let yourself be seen before you come and tell me. Heaven send it -may be a party of rich pilgrims come to seek shelter at Eppenfeld! We -will treat them hospitably, and send them lightly on their way."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If they're pilgrims, they're pilgrims in steel coats," answered -Stephen; while the man whom his lord called Fritz, hurried off to take -a better survey.</p> - -<p class="normal">These tidings did not seem to please his lord, for the Baron's brow -knit, and after looking two or three times towards the door of the -hall, he was in the act of rising to go out, when his second messenger -returned, saying with a laugh, "It's Ferdinand of Altenburg, whom you -have seen with the Count of Ehrenstein; and with him he's got ten men -of the castle."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Are you sure of the youth?" demanded the Baron. "We must have no -mistakes, though we can manage ten men well enough; ay, or forty, if -they send them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I am quite sure," answered Fritz; "for he has got his beaver up, -and I can see his face as well as I can see yours."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What can the Count want?" murmured Eppenfeld to himself. "Well, we -are good friends enough, and he is not very particular as to what -he does himself, so let them in, and bring the youth straight -hither.--Take away these cups and tankards, and make the place look -orderly. Then let every drunken man hie to his own sty, for if the -good Count wants help with the strong hand, we may perchance have to -mount before nightfall."</p> - -<p class="normal">With a good deal of scrambling and confusion, the board was cleared, -and laid edgeways at the side of the hall, the tressels, the cups, the -flagons, and all the other implements which they had employed in the -revel were hastily removed, and after the horn at the gates had been -sounded loudly once or twice, Fritz, and two or three of the more -sober of the soldiery, went out to give admission to the followers of -the lord of Ehrenstein.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean while the Baron walked up and down the hall, considering -gravely the question of what the Count of Ehrenstein could want with -him--for those were days when men were so much accustomed to plunder -and wrong each other, that suspicion mingled with almost every -transaction of life, and neither rogues nor honest men ever trusted -each other without a doubt. Before his cogitations came to an end, -Ferdinand--having left the horses, and several of his followers to -take care of them, in the outer court--was ushered into the hall, with -five stout men at his back; and advanced at once towards the Baron, -through the different groups of somewhat wild and fierce looking -retainers, who formed the favourite household of the good lord of -Eppenfeld.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, good youth, what do you want with me?" asked the Baron. "If I -am not much mistaken, you are young Ferdinand of Altenburg, who was -page some years since to my fair cousin the Count of Ehrenstein.--Whom -do you follow now?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The same, my lord," replied Ferdinand, "and the Count has sent me to -you with his friendly greeting; bidding me say, that he learns from -the complaint of certain Venetian merchants, that some of your people, -not knowing that they were journeying to the Castle of Ehrenstein, or -that the treasure they carried was his, have stopped and plundered -them on the highway from Zweibrücken. He bids me now tell you, -however, that such is the case, and requires not only that the whole -shall be instantly restored, but that compensation shall be made for -the injury which your people have inflicted upon these merchants and -their followers."</p> - -<p class="normal">Here the Baron of Eppenfeld interrupted him by a loud laugh, "On my -life," he cried, "thou art a bold youth to bring me such a message!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That message is not yet done, my lord," answered Ferdinand, coolly. -"The Count bade me add, that the compensation to the merchants is to -be awarded by himself and Count Frederick of Leiningen, now sojourning -with him at Ehrenstein, and commanded me to require an answer at your -hands without delay, that he may take measures accordingly."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Baron gazed at him, as if in surprise at his audacity; but yet at -the mention of the name of Count Frederick of Leiningen as a guest in -the Castle of Ehrenstein, a shade of doubt seemed to come over his -face; and when the youth had done, he turned abruptly from him, and -paced up and down the hall for a minute. Then, stopping again as -suddenly, he replied, "If I say bluntly, No, what have you to answer -then?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"My task then would be," answered Ferdinand, "to defy you in the name -of my good lord and of Count Frederick, and to tell you that they will -be before your gates in arms ere four-and-twenty hours are over."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Baron bit his lip. "Tell them that Eppenfeld is high," he -answered; "tell them that its lord wears a sword that has made braver -men than they are skip--tell them--yet stay, I will consider this, and -consult with my people. You shall lodge here to-night and sup with me, -and perhaps ere to-morrow I shall consider my old friendship with your -lord rather than my anger at his rash message."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear that cannot be, my lord," answered Ferdinand; "I am neither to -eat, to drink, to sleep, or spare the spur for more than half an hour, -till I bear back your answer."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By my faith! then, no other shall you have," cried the Baron, -vehemently; "and if you seek more, you shall have it in a dungeon of -the castle.--Ay, tell the Count what I have said; and you may add that -he had better mind his own affairs, and meddle not with my booty, or -he may find that I will not only have revenge in arms, but other -retribution which will fall heavier still: tell him I know things -which, though he thinks they have been buried deep for well nigh -twenty years, may yet pull him down from where he stands, and give him -to the emperor's headsman. So much for the Count of Ehrenstein."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And what for Count Frederick of Leiningen," asked Ferdinand, not at -all daunted by the fierce looks and tones of the Baron. "I was equally -charged by him to defy you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good faith! your impudence well nigh makes me laugh," exclaimed the -Baron. "What for Count Frederick of Leiningen? Why, tell His Highness -that I thank him gratefully for the good prize he put into my hands, -and that he shall have the share stipulated by his lad, Martin of -Dillberg. You may say, moreover, that I was very cautious," the Baron -continued, with a bitter sneer, "and attended to all the warnings -given me. I never meddled with the men till they were on my own land, -without a pass from me. If they will do such things, they must bear -the consequences. I have taken my toll of them, and I shall keep it, -if all the counts in the empire said me Nay. So now begone, and -remember that you tell both my loving cousins in each other's -presence, what I have said in answer to their messages."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand of Altenburg made no reply, but took a step back towards the -door, very doubtful, to say the truth, whether he would be permitted -to reach it. He was suffered to pass uninterrupted, however; but the -moment he had quitted the hall, the man Fritz, who acted as the -Baron's lieutenant, sprang to his lord's side, and murmured eagerly -some words of advice. Those who were around did not hear all that he -said, but some broken parts of sentences were audible, such as, "Let -us have four-and-twenty hours at least--never stand a strict leaguer -so badly provided--bring the beeves from the wood; and call in all the -men.--We can do it in a minute--here are only ten with him."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Baron nodded his head, and made a sign with his hand; and Fritz, -beckoning to the rest of the men to follow, hurried out into the -court-yard.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand of Altenburg had one foot in the stirrup, when the Baron's -lieutenant approached him; and the rest of the men of Ehrenstein were -scattered about--some mounting their horses, others mounted. The gate -was open and the drawbridge down, and not more than fourteen or -fifteen of the soldiers of Eppenfeld were in the court when Fritz -entered it. Proceeding cautiously, therefore, he touched Ferdinand's -arm lightly, saying, "My good lord would fain speak with you for a -moment farther, young Sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must not stay any longer," answered Ferdinand, and was in the act -of springing into the saddle, when Fritz, seeing a number of others -following from the hall, threw himself suddenly upon him, and -endeavoured to pinion his arms. Ferdinand was younger and more active, -though perhaps not so strong; and with a blow of his gauntlet struck -the man down, freeing himself from his grasp. A scene of struggling -confusion succeeded, in the course of which the young man and all his -followers but two were overpowered by the superior numbers of their -opponents, and carried back as captives into the castle. The other two -were men who had already mounted, and who, at the first sign of this -unequal strife pushed their horses towards the gates, dashed over the -drawbridge, and took their way at full speed down the valley.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean time, Ferdinand of Altenburg was dragged back into the -castle, but instead of being taken to the hall, was hurried along the -passages, and down a narrow flight of steps, to a small room or cell, -which perhaps did not exactly deserve the name of a dungeon, for it -was actually above the ground, but which was dim, damp, and -inconvenient enough. In those days, however, the things which we are -accustomed to look upon as absolute necessaries, were merely luxuries, -and people of very high station fared hard and lay harder; so that a -pallet bed, a narrow chamber, a little light, and a stone floor, were -hardships not aggravated to the mind of Ferdinand by a contrast with -any great delicacy of nurture.</p> - -<p class="normal">He did not remonstrate with those who bore him along, for he was well -aware that by so doing, he would only waste his breath; and indeed he -said nothing, for threats he knew could only aggravate the rigours of -his imprisonment, and he looked upon patience as a sovereign balm for -all such misfortunes as those to which he was now subjected. Neither -did he resist at all, from the moment it became evident that -resistance would be in vain; and thus, though he was dragged along at -first with some degree of violence, the men who held him soon -slackened their speed, and relaxed their grasp. When they had pushed -him into the cell, they stood leaning against the lintels of the door, -gazing at him for a moment before they shut it; and the man Fritz, -whose right cheek and eye displayed very remarkable evidence of the -strength with which Ferdinand had struck him, seemed now not a little -surprised at the calmness and good-humour with which the young -gentleman bore his fate.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well you take it vastly quietly, Master Ferdinand of Altenburg," said -the man; "you seem as if you rather liked it than otherwise."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no," answered Ferdinand, laughing; "I don't like it; but, as I -expected it from the very first, I am not taken by surprise. There -would be no benefit either, my good friend, in my struggling with you -after struggling is useless, or in railing at you when railing would -have no effect, and, therefore, all I have to say on the subject is, -that there can be little good in keeping me here, since some of the -men have got off, for I saw them with my own eyes. They will carry the -news just as well as I could, and before this time to-morrow you will -have the two Counts under Eppenfeld."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's all very good," answered Fritz; "but I shall keep you here, -notwithstanding."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hope not on account of the blow I gave you," said Ferdinand; "no -good soldier ever resents a fair blow received in strife."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," replied the other; "if you knocked me down, I tripped you -up, so that's all equal; but I have two good reasons for keeping -you:--first, my good lord having more wine than wit in his head, I am -thinking, sent messages to the two Counts which could do no good, and -might do much harm; and secondly, you'll be a sort of hostage, young -man. I know the Count loves you well, and would not like to see you -dangling from the battlements, like a pear from the end of a branch."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He would not much care, I fancy," answered Ferdinand, indifferently. -"But in the mean time, I should like to have some supper, for if a man -is to be hanged to-morrow, that is no reason why he should not eat and -drink to-day."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, supper you shall have, and good wine to boot," answered Fritz. -"You seem to bear a light heart, and ought not to want wherewithal to -keep it up.--It is lucky that hanging is soon over, and can't happen -twice, so good night and God speed ye!"</p> - -<p class="normal">With this peculiar topic of consolation the man left him to comfort -himself as best he might, and closing the door behind him, swung up a -ponderous wooden bar, and pushed the bolts into the staples.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XVI.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The day had been bright and cheerful, but towards nightfall the sky -had become obscured by thin, light vapours. Low, sweeping clouds, or -rather masses of drifting mist, were hurried along through the air, -and brushing the hills, and sometimes floating down into the -valleys--like the skirt of the wind's gray robe--now hid the grander -features of the scene, now suffered the crags and pinnacles to peep -out clear and distinct, as on they hastened with all the speed and -importance of great affairs. As the sun set, indeed, a purple glow -diffused itself amongst those vapours, but they did not clear away; -and speedily after a fine rain began to fall, somewhat cold and -chilly, hiding everything around in dull opaque mist. In fact, one of -those frequent alternations to which all mountain countries are more -or less subject, had come over the weather, rendering the evening as -cheerless and dismal as the morning had been bright and gay.</p> - -<p class="normal">Nevertheless, two horsemen still rode on their way about half-past -eight o'clock, though their beasts were evidently jaded, and their own -garments and arms were covered with the dust of many a weary mile of -road; but about five or six miles beyond the small town of Anweiler, -one of the horses cast a shoe, and the beast speedily began to show -symptoms of lameness. The rider was consequently obliged to dismount, -and lead his weary steed; and the other drew in his bridle, in order -not to outride his companion--for the state of society, of which we -have given some glimpses, rendered the presence of a companion on the -road a very desirable circumstance to the wayfarer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"We can't be far from the smith's forge," said the dismounted man to -his friend. "I will stop and get him shod there."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Will he shoe him?" asked the other. "He is no friend of our good -lord, and has not shod a hoof for him for years."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, Franz Creussen is a good heart," answered the man on foot. "He -would shoe the devil sooner than a poor beast should go lame. Besides, -he will like to hear our tidings, though they will vex him mightily; -for the young gentleman is a great friend of his. By the Lord! I -should not wonder if that mad Baron of Eppenfeld put him to -death--there's no knowing what he will do."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," answered the other; "he knows better. The Count would make -him pay dearly for it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I'm not sure of that," replied the man on foot. "I've seen him give -Ferdinand of Altenburg many a moody look at times; and I've a notion -in my head--but no matter for that, I shall keep it to myself. I think -some people in the castle love the young gentleman better than our -lord likes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not unlikely," said the man on horseback. "I've my thoughts too, but -the less said the better."</p> - -<p class="normal">The conversation now dropped between the two weary men, and for about -half an hour or so they continued to plod on their way in silence, -till at length a red glare, suddenly rising and falling through the -dark and misty air, showed them that they were approaching the forge -of Franz Creussen, and that the industrious smith, or some of his busy -men, were still pursuing the labours of the day. The wide open shed, -when they came near, displayed ten or twelve Cyclops, naked nearly to -the waist, plying the busy hammer at different anvils, blowing the -huge bellows, or heating the iron in the fire. But Franz Creussen -himself was not amongst them; and while one of the travellers applied -to have his horse shod as speedily as possible, the other inquired for -the master of the forge, and was informed that he had gone into his -cottage hard by, to take his evening meal. Fastening his horse by a -hook, the horseman proceeded to seek Franz in his house; and as the -smith was a wealthy man in his way of life, offering very cogent -reasons for refusing to submit to many of the exactions which the -neighbouring nobles generally laid upon the peasantry, his dwelling -presented an appearance of comfort, and even luxury, seldom met with -amongst persons in his station.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who the fiend are you?" exclaimed the giant, as soon as the soldier -entered. "I have seen your face somewhere, but do not know your name. -Ah! now I bethink me; you are one of those who were riding with the -lad Ferdinand this morning, are you not? Where is he?--but I can -guess."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He's in a dungeon at Eppenfeld by this time," answered the man. "I -and my companion are the only two that got off; so, as I know you have -a friendship for him, Franz, I thought I would come in and tell you, -while my comrade got his horse's shoe put on."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That was kind, that was kind," cried Franz Creussen, rubbing one of -his temples with a forefinger as big as a child's arm. "There, take -some wine; the boy must be got out."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, the Count will get him out," answered the soldier; adding, -"that's to say, if they don't put him to death first."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If they do, let them have good heed to their brains," said Franz -Creussen; "for the Baron of Eppenfeld's skull would make a poor anvil, -and yet it shall be tapped by my hammer, if he has injured the lad in -life or limb. It's time that the Baron were out of the world, as well -as some others;" and Franz Creussen fell into thought, and rubbed his -temple again.</p> - -<p class="normal">The man, in the mean while, helped himself liberally to the wine which -the smith offered, and in a minute or two after, the master of the -forge raised himself suddenly, saying, "The horse must be shod by this -time, and you must onto Ehrenstein with all speed, to bear these -tidings to the lords there, for they must not let the youth lie long -in Eppenfeld."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, the Count will see right done, and that quickly," answered his -companion.</p> - -<p class="normal">"If the one Count doesn't, the other will," replied Franz Creussen; -"but you speed on, and let them have the intelligence at all events;" -and striding into his forge, he reproved his men somewhat sharply for -having taken so long to put a shoe on a horse; and having seen the -work accomplished, and bid the two soldiers adieu, he turned to his -own workmen, saying, "Shut up, shut up, and put out the fires. I have -other work in hand for us all."</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean while the two soldiers of Ehrenstein rode on their way -homeward, forcing their horses to as quick a pace as fatigue would -permit. When they reached the castle the hour was late, but the Count -was still playing at tables with his guest, and they were instantly -admitted to his presence. They found both the noblemen in a gay mood, -laughing over their game; while Adelaide sat at a little distance on -one side, with Martin of Dillberg standing by her chair, and the -jester, seated on a stool, amusing her by his quaint remarks.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, what tidings, what tidings?" exclaimed the Count of Ehrenstein. -"Where is Ferdinand? Is he not come back?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The man's answer, on the present occasion, was much the same as that -which he had made to Franz Creussen; and when it was uttered, the -Count of Ehrenstein struck the table vehemently, exclaiming, "This is -too bad. By Heaven it shall be avenged!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Frederick's eye glanced suddenly to the countenance of the fair -girl who sat near, which had become deadly pale; and then, turning to -the soldier, he inquired, "Did you hear the young gentleman deliver -his message?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, my good lord," replied the man who had before spoken, "I was left -with the horses, but Herman here did."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What said the Baron?" asked Count Frederick, turning to the other, -who was now coming forward. "Tell us all that took place."</p> - -<p class="normal">Herman, however, was a slower and more cautious man than his -companion, and he was by no means inclined to repeat expressions which -he had heard distinctly enough, but which he feared might give offence -to the two noblemen before whom he stood, judging rightly, that a part -of the anger excited by insulting messages always attaches to the -person who bears them. He replied, therefore, circumspectly, "The -Baron seemed to be in a great fury, noble Sir; and indeed, I thought -had been drinking too much. I can't recollect all that he said, but I -know he sent Ferdinand of Altenburg back with a flat refusal. Then the -young gentleman defied him boldly in both your names, and warned him -that you would be under his hold before four-and-twenty hours were -over. That seemed to enrage him still more, and thinking we might not -get off quite safely, I mounted my horse as soon as we were in the -court. Master Ferdinand had his foot in the stirrup to do so likewise, -when they came running out of the hall, and laid hold of him. He -struck the first man down, but there were so many that it was -impossible to contend with them; and seeing the greater number of our -people taken, and our leader held down by three men with their knives -at his throat, I thought it best to gallop off while the drawbridge -was down, that you might know what had happened as soon as possible."</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Frederick looked again towards Adelaide, and then to her father, -saying, "This must be avenged, indeed, Ehrenstein. Both for our -honour's sake, and for this noble youth's deliverance, we must take -speedy steps."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will march at daybreak," answered the Count of Ehrenstein; "and -with your good aid, doubt not to bring this freebooter to reason very -speedily."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By my faith! I will march to-night," cried Count Frederick. -"Daybreak, I trust, will find me beneath his walls. Frederick -of Leiningen sleeps not after he is insulted, till he has had -vengeance. If it will take you long time to prepare, you can follow -to-morrow;--for my part, I will give this man no time to strengthen -himself against us. Martin, hie ye down, and bid the men feed their -horses, make ready their arms, and take with them sufficient for a -three days' stay in the field. I will not lodge under aught but the -blue sky or the green bough, till I have righted this wrong."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will with you, noble friend," said the Count of Ehrenstein. "In two -or three hours I can be ready. Ho! Seckendorf, Mosbach! to the saddle, -good knights, leave your draughts and prepare for Eppenfeld."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must leave men enough to guard your castle, Ehrenstein," said -Count Frederick, "and some one to command in it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will command, uncle," said the jester, coming forward, "that's my -place by right of birth."</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Frederick smiled, but paused a moment, and then asked "How do -you prove that, Herr von Narren?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, I am the eldest son of the family," answered the jester, "the -eldest branch of the whole house."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed," cried the Lord of Ehrenstein, "show us your quarterings, -mein Herr, with which of my ancestors does your tribe begin?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"With Adam," answered the jester.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But the eldest branch, the eldest branch--how are you of the eldest -branch?" asked Count Frederick, "by the father's or the mother's -side?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"By the male," said the jester. "Was not Adam a fool when he ate the -apple, because his wife asked him? Was not Cain a fool when he killed -Abel, and thought that nobody saw him? So you see we of the cloth are -evidently of the elder branch, and take the inheritance, and therefore -I've a right to command in the castle."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay, Herr von Narren," said the Lord of Ehrenstein. "I must -leave one of my own men to command under you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Cannot I fill that task, noble Count?" asked Martin of Dillberg, who -had just returned to the hall. "If I remain behind, I shall be right -glad to be of any service."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If you remain behind!" exclaimed Count Frederick; "why should you do -so, Martin? You are not one to shirk honour, or to fly from danger, I -hope--why should you not go with the rest?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not know, my lord," replied the young man, with a heavy look; -"only when my horse fell with me near Saarbrück, you said I was not to -take the field again for some time, and left me behind to follow -slowly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you were well enough to overtake us ere we reached Ehrenstein," -rejoined his lord.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am quite ready, noble Sir," answered Martin of Dillberg, in -dull tone, "and only feared you might not let me go, remembering that -you halted two days on the road, so that I had time to journey -leisurely--but I am quite well enough to go, and Heaven knows I do not -wish to stay away when anything like glory is to be gained."</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Frederick made no answer at the time, but seemed to muse over -what had passed. Shortly after the whole party separated to prepare, -and by two in the morning all the followers of the two Counts, except -a small band left to guard the castle, were assembled in the court. -The jester himself was ready, harnessed like a man at arms; but at the -last moment, Count Frederick turned to Martin of Dillberg, and told -him he was to remain. The young man affected to remonstrate, but the -Count repeated his commands in a grave and not very well pleased tone; -and then turning to the jester with a laugh, he added, "You had better -stay too, Herr von Narren, though I know in general you are wise -enough to go where hard blows are to be got rather than stay within -stone walls."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Variety, uncle, variety," said the jester. "I have had enough of -stone walls for a time, and do not see why I should not change the -inside for the out. Besides, Martin of Dillberg's company is too great -a luxury to be indulged in often--it would make one effeminate."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man gave him a bitter look as he mounted his horse, and -shortly after, with several lighted torches before them, to show them -their way down the steep descent, the whole party set out upon their -expedition, leaving Martin of Dillberg behind them, and the castle -soon after relapsed into silence and tranquillity.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XVII.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand of Altenburg seated himself upon the edge of the pallet, and -gave way to thought; nor must it be denied that after the first -excitement of action was over, he felt his position to be one of no -inconsiderable pain, difficulty, and danger. Imprisonment, forced -solitude, and the deprivation of active exertion, must ever be a heavy -burden for eager and busy youth to bear, even for an hour; but there -were many other evils, possible, probable, and actual, which the -young gentleman had to contemplate as he sat there and meditated over -his fate. To be deprived of the society of her he loved, for many -hours, perhaps for many days--to leave all the circumstances, by which -his fate and hers might be affected for ever, to be decided by -accident to know that one for whom he felt an instinctive jealousy and -dislike was to be possessed, during his absence, of the blessing of -her society, of the treasure which he valued beyond all price and -would have guarded for himself with a miser's care, were first among -the painful impressions that presented themselves. But then came the -questions of how his imprisonment might terminate; how long it might -continue; what might be the end. Amongst the rude and ruthless acts of -those times there were innumerable instances of such threats as those -which had been held out by the man who had just left him, being -carried into execution. There was something more than a possibility, -there was a probability of his being treated as a hostage to ensure -the forbearance of the Count of Ehrenstein and his guest; and, -moreover, if his situation failed in deterring them from seeking -retribution for the offences of the Baron of Eppenfeld, there was -every likelihood of that daring and rapacious nobleman, adding to -crimes from the consequences of which he could not escape by putting -his prisoner to death. Ferdinand had then to consider, what chance -there existed of the two Counts either refraining, out of regard for -his safety, from active measures against the Baron, or of their -temporising with their enemy till his security was obtained. In regard -to Count Frederick, he had indeed some hope, for there was a frank and -upright bearing about that prince which had impressed him at once with -a belief that he would act in all circumstances in a generous as well -as an honourable manner; but when he thought of the Count of -Ehrenstein he could flatter himself with no hope of any pause or -consideration in his favour, when in the opposite scale was to be -placed the recovery of a large sum of gold. Perhaps he did him -injustice, but he was inclined to believe that the person must be much -more dear to the Count than he was, whose life would not be risked or -sacrificed for a certain amount of ducats. His only hope was, that -Count Frederick's presence might have some effect in mitigating his -own lord's eagerness. But in matters of life and death such slight -chances of escape afford but small consolation, and Ferdinand's mood -was certainly somewhat gloomy when the Baron of Eppenfeld's chief -officer returned with a man bearing some wine and meat.</p> - -<p class="normal">The young gentleman banished everything like care from his look, -however, as soon as he heard the bolts withdrawn; and he received the -provisions with a gay air, saying, "Thanks, thanks, good Sir, I hope -the wine is good; for this place is not lively, and I shall have -nought to while away the hours but wine or sleep, and the bed does not -seem a soft one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You may have a harder to-morrow," was Fritz's only reply; and -withdrawing as soon as the provisions were set down, he left Ferdinand -once more to, his own thoughts.</p> - -<p class="normal">For some time the captive touched neither meat nor drink; leaning his -head upon his hand, and still meditating more and more sadly. At -length, however, he started up, saying, "Well, it is no use thinking, -I must have some food, whatever be the result;" and after eating -sparingly, he set the flagon to his lips and took a deep draught. The -wine was good, and it cheered him, but he did not repeat the libation; -and walking to and fro in his cell, he continued his meditations; now -smiling and now frowning, as fancy sometimes brightened and sometimes -darkened the prospect of the fate before him. While thus occupied, the -small loophole window of the cell showed him the grey change in the -colouring of the air, which precedes the coming on of night, and he -could hear the evening noise of the storks, as they prepared to wing -their way up from the stream that ran through the valley below, -towards the pinnacles of the castle. Soon after the growing twilight -nearly deprived him of all sight in his dull abode; and in a few -minutes more all was darkness.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I will lay me down, and try to sleep," said Ferdinand; and -though the drowsy god refused to come at first, yet after a while his -eyes grew heavy, and he fell asleep. His slumbers were disturbed, -however, by the same sad and gloomy images which had haunted his -waking thoughts, and ere two hours were over, he woke again with a -start, and vague apprehensions of he knew not what. For several -moments he could not recollect where he was; but when he had collected -his thoughts, and found that the attempt to sleep any more would be in -vain, he rose, and walking to the little loophole, gazed out upon the -narrow space of sky that it offered to his sight.</p> - -<p class="normal">The valley below seemed to be filled with clouds of mist; but the -height upon which the castle stood raised it above the vapours, and he -could see two bright stars--one twinkling, clear, and immoveable, high -up in the sky, and the other with a softer and more gentle fire, which -appeared to move slowly across the lower part of the aperture. -Ferdinand's quick imagination speedily found images of human fate and -circumstances in what he saw.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There shines honour and truth above," he said; "steadfast to the end; -and there moves love and hope along the course of earthly life, pure -and bright, even if less sparkling than the higher light."</p> - -<p class="normal">He stood and gazed for nearly half an hour, for there was something -attractive in those stars which kept him fixed to the spot. It seemed -in his solitude as if there was a companionship in their rays--as if -they shone to soothe and cheer him; and he was still suffering his -fancy to sport free amongst the fields of space, when he heard a step -approaching, as if some one were about to pass before the loophole; a -moment or two after, before it reached the spot where he stood, there -was a pause, and then a voice said, "Where is the postern? It used to -be somewhere here. Hundert Schweren! they cannot have blocked it up."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Whose voice is that?" said Ferdinand, in a low tone. There was an -instant pause, and all was again silent, till Ferdinand repeated his -question, saying, "Who is there? I should know the voice.--Is it you, -Franz?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush!" said the speaker without, and the next instant the lower part -of the loophole was darkened by what seemed the head of a man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is that you in there, Master Ferdinand?" said the voice of the smith. -"Answer quietly, for we may be overheard from above."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is even I, Franz," answered the young gentleman. "But I fear you -are bringing yourself into great peril; and on my account too, if I am -not mistaken."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Never mind that," answered the smith. "I have plenty to help me in -case of need. But can you tell me where the postern is, lad? I will -soon get in if I can but find it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know not where it is," answered Ferdinand; "but I saw traces of the -passage going on beyond this door. However, when you are in I do not -see how you will be able to reach me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Easy enough, easy enough," answered Franz Creussen. "I know the place -of old, and I have not heard that the Baron has laid out much money in -altering his castle since he had it. Besides, I will number the -loop-holes as I go, and then we shall be sure to get you out."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thanks Franz, a thousand thanks," answered the young gentleman. "Were -I to stay till to-morrow, I find I should most probably make my exit -by a window and a rope."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, keep quiet, and be ready," answered Franz Creussen. "Come along -my man, and have the horn ready for a blast. I will keep the door -against any ten of them, when once we've got it open, till the men -from below can come up." Thus saying, he walked on; but Ferdinand -could hear his steps for only six or seven paces farther, and then the -worthy smith seemed to stop, and a dull sound was heard, as of some -one sawing slowly through a thick and heavy piece of timber. Ferdinand -remembered that as he had been carried, or rather pushed along the -passage from which the cell entered, he had seen a low door at the -end, which might well be a postern leading out upon the rock. But he -feared that the sound which caught his ear might rouse some of the -other tenants of the castle; or attract the notice of some watchful -sentinels upon the walls. The predatory habits of the Baron of -Eppenfeld, however, and the frequent feuds which they entailed with -his neighbours, had not taught him that caution which was a part of -the natural disposition of the Count of Ehrenstein; and trusting to -the renown of a name which had become terrible, and the natural -strength of his hold, he maintained a very different watch from that -which his captive had been accustomed to see practised. His soldiery, -too, imitating the habits of their leader, were by no means exempt -from his vices; and an alternation of cunning schemes, fierce -enterprises, and reckless revelry, formed the life of the inhabitants -of Eppenfeld. A number of the men had been sent out the night before -upon different errands affecting the peculiar circumstances in which -the Baron was placed. The rest had finished their carouse as soon as -the capture of Ferdinand and his companions was effected; and a -solitary watchman, placed on a high tower, solaced his loneliness by a -long and comfortable nap, with his back resting against the -battlements.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus no ear but Ferdinand's heard the sound, which ceased much sooner -than he expected, and drawing near to the door, he listened eagerly, -till at length he heard the creaking of rusty hinges, and then a step -in the passage. The next instant he distinguished the drawing of -bolts, but it was not the door of his own cell which they had -unfastened, and he then knocked gently with his hand, to indicate the -place of his confinement. The step then came on, the heavy wooden bar -was removed, the other fastenings undone, and his eye, accustomed to -the darkness, could make out the tall figure of the smith, as he bent -down to look in.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Are you there, lad?" said Franz Creussen. "Ay, I see you now; come -along, come along; have you any arms?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"My sword they have got, and my head-piece," answered Ferdinand; "the -rest they left me. Let us away, Franz. I can get arms hereafter; yet I -would fain, were it possible, free the poor fellows who were with me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! they will be safe enough," answered Franz Creussen; "you were the -only one in danger. We must lose no time, for we have got far to go, -and may have much to do.--But we'll leave the doors open behind us, -that the Counts may get in; for I dare say these swine will not find -it out till they have the spears of Ehrenstein under their walls."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he hurried away down the passage to the postern door, -where one of his stout workmen was standing; and somewhat to his -surprise, Ferdinand now found that both master and man were completely -armed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, Franz," he said, in a low voice; "you look like a knight."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay," answered Franz Creussen, merrily; "they always told me I look -worse than I am. But come along, come along, and mind your footing, -for on my life there are some spots where it is not safe to pass."</p> - -<p class="normal">Slowly wending their way along upon the narrow ledge of rock -immediately under the walls of the castle on that side, with the deep -valley wrapped in mists and shadows beneath them, and the blue sky -with its thousand bright eyes twinkling up above, they came at the end -of about a hundred yards, to a narrow footway down the front of the -rock, not much less dangerous than the beetling summit which they had -just quitted. In the bottom of the valley, about a mile from -Eppenfeld, they found a large party of men and horses waiting for -them, with a led horse over and above the number of the smith's -companions, showing clearly that he had little doubted, from the -first, that he should be able to set his young friend free. Few words -were spoken, but mounting quickly, they took their way towards -Anweiler, and ere long left that small place behind them.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now we are safe enough," said Franz Creussen; "for though the beast -of Eppenfeld may perhaps pursue you farther, if he should find that -you are gone, he will go straight towards Ehrenstein, and we must take -another path. We may as well separate, however, and send some of the -men on the direct road, then their horses' feet will mislead him."</p> - -<p class="normal">This plan was accordingly followed, and the smith and his young -companion, with five or six more of the party, took their way down -towards the valley of the Rhine, and then made a circuit to the left, -in the direction of Dürkheim, while the rest followed the straight -road over the hills.</p> - -<p class="normal">Little was said, either by Franz Creussen or Ferdinand, as they rode -at the head of the troop; but at length, at the crossing of the road, -the smith suddenly drew in his rein, saying, "I forgot to tell the -men, if they met with the Counts and their party, to say that they -would find the postern door open. Ride off after them, Peterkin, as -fast as you can; straight up that road to the left there.--You may as -well take all the other men with you, for we sha'n't need them here. -The Baron won't dare to come down into this open country.--But let -some one give Master Ferdinand a lance, or at worst a sword; though I -think a sword is the best of the two after all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The Counts won't set out till they hear or see something of me," said -Ferdinand; "or at all events not before to-morrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I don't know that," answered Franz Creussen. "Your lord might not, -but he has got a better man with him; and as to their hearing, they've -heard long ago,--get ye gone, Peterkin, and take the men, as I told -you."</p> - -<p class="normal">These orders were obeyed as promptly as if he had been a military -commander; and the smith and his young companion rode on at a slow -pace for about half a mile.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length Ferdinand remarked, "I think we could get forward quicker, -Franz; the horses don't seem tired."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, but I want to talk to you a bit, Master Ferdinand; I've long -wished it, and now I've got the opportunity.--But look there,--lights -moving along the hills. The two Counts, take my word for it. But never -you mind, come on towards Ehrenstein. You may do as much good there as -where they are going."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think so too, Franz," answered Ferdinand; "and I am anxious to get -there fast; for Father George wishes to see me to-night, and it must -be now near two."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! that alters the case," answered Franz Creussen. "We'll spur on -then.--Two, why it's past three by this time;" and striking his horse -with his spur, he trotted quickly along the road.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XVIII.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The travellers paused not till they had to turn their horses up the -side of the hills; but then the beasts slackened their pace without -the riders drawing the rein, for the ascent was steep, and the roads -not so good as they are now. A wide wood covered the slopes; and the -path wound in and out amongst the trees, while glimpses of the rising -moon were seen through the brakes, where the leafy screen fell away; -and often a straggling ray of moonlight was caught pouring over the -bushes, even where the bright orb of night was invisible to the eye of -the wanderer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know not how to offer you my thanks, Franz," said Ferdinand of -Altenburg, as he laid down the bridle on the beast's neck. "I know you -would have no wordy gratitude; and I must not hope that you will ever -be in circumstances which may enable me to return you the kindness you -have shown me. Nevertheless I hope some occasion may come when I can -prove to you how deeply I feel it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"God send that Franz Creussen may ever want help as little as he needs -it now," answered the stout smith; "and God send he may ever be as -able and as willing to lend it to those who deserve it, Master -Ferdinand. I know not which would be the greatest curse, to be -unwilling though able, or to be willing and yet unable, to aid a good -fellow-creature in his need. The first, methinks; for though in the -latter case one might feel much pain, in the former one would have no -pleasure. But it is not gratitude or service in return, one works for. -One hammers iron for pay; but one does not do what is kind for -recompense of any sort. On the contrary, I think one takes a greater -pleasure in serving a person who can never repay it, especially when -one has served him before. Now I have had a kindness for you from your -boyhood. Do you remember when you used to come to me from the Abbey to -give you fishing lines to catch the poor shining fellows out of the -stream--the White fish and the May fish? A little curly-headed urchin -you were then, as wild as a young roe deer, but not half so timid."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I remember it well, Franz," replied Ferdinand, "those were happy -days, and I shall never forget them. You were always very kind to me, -and I believe used to spoil me, and do everything I asked you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not a whit, not a whit," cried the smith. "I pitched you into the -river once when you were over wilful, just to cool your fire; and then -I pulled you out again, and laughed at you, which did you more good -than the wetting.--But that was a long time ago--you were just six -years old then."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I recollect it well," answered the young gentleman, "and it served me -right. I have never failed to think of it when I have felt inclined to -give way to angry impatience. It was just by the mill pond."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, your memory is good," said the smith, "can you remember anything -before that?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, yes," replied Ferdinand, after a moment's thought; "I can -recollect many things that happened at the Abbey. I can remember, when -the Abbot Waldimer died, the great bell tolling, and how hard it was -for Father George to teach me to read and write."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, but before that?" asked Franz Creussen. "Can you recall any other -place, before you were at the Abbey?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Sometimes I think I do," was the young gentleman's reply. "You know, -Franz, when one is riding along in the night, everything will seem -dark and indistinct around one, with trees, and rocks, and houses, all -faint, and scarcely to be distinguished one from the other, taking -strange shapes and unnatural forms; and then, if one passes the open -door of a cottage where there is a light burning, or a forge like -yours, one suddenly sees a small space around, all clear and defined; -and then the minute after everything is dark again. Now the past seems -to me just like that. I see, when I turn my eyes to the days of my -childhood, a number of strange vague things, of which I can make out -the forms but faintly, and know not what they are; but here and there -comes a spot of brightness, where all seems as if it were now before -my eyes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, that is curious," said the smith. "Can you tell me any of these -matters that you recollect so clearly?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand paused a moment, and then answered, "I am sure I can trust -you, Franz; but Father George warned me to tell no one at the castle -anything I may be able to remember of my early days."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am not of the castle," answered Franz Creussen; "and besides, if I -chose, I could tell you more of those days than you yourself could -tell me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed," answered Ferdinand; "I remember you, it is true, ever since -my boyhood, but still, I do not see your figure in any of those -visions which sometimes come back upon me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, but I've held you in my arms when you were not a twelvemonth -old," said his companion, "and carried you at my saddle-bow during six -hours of a long night. It is true I did not see you for years after, -till Franz Creussen became the Abbey smith, and you the ward of Father -George. But tell me what you recollect, lad, for you may tell me -safely. I can keep counsel, as you may see; but things are now coming -to a close, and it is right we should all understand each other."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The first thing I can recollect," said the young gentleman, "seems to -me a fine house in a small town, with gardens and trees, and a -beautiful lady I called mother,--that is a pleasant dream, Franz, full -of happy things, sports of childhood, joys in flowers, and in birds' -songs,--I am sure I remember it well, for nobody has talked to me -about those things since, and it cannot be all fancy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," answered Franz Creussen; "it is all true, quite true, and -the lady was your mother! What more?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The next thing I remember," continued the young man; "is a less happy -day. It seems as if I had been playing at my mother's knee in that -same house--it was not a castle, but like the dwelling of some rich -burgher,--and then suddenly came in a messenger, with what seemed evil -tidings; for the lady wept, and in a few minutes all was bustle and -confusion, packing up clothes and other things in haste; and then -people spurring away at fiery speed, till I was weary, and fell -asleep."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, ay, who carried you, then?" said the smith; "who but Franz -Creussen? What do you recollect next?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"There must have been a long interval," replied Ferdinand; "for I was -a bigger boy then; and of the intervening time I re-member little or -nothing; but shortly after that it seems as if I was very lonely and -sad, and seldom saw my mother, till one night I was called into a room -where she lay upon a bed propped up with pillows, and there were -priests in the room, and men in black gowns, and the girl called -Caroline, who used to nurse me; but my mother's face was sadly changed -then,--it was thin and sharp, and pale, and the lips seemed bloodless, -but her eyes were exceedingly bright, and her teeth as white as driven -snow. She had a crucifix lying before her,--I recollect it well--a -black cross with an ivory figure on it,--and she put her arms round my -neck, and kissed me often, and prayed God to bless me, and make me -happier and more fortunate than my father and herself.--That was not -long before I went to the Abbey, I think; but I never saw her after."</p> - -<p class="normal">Franz Creussen was silent for a moment or two, apparently from some -emotion of the mind, but at length he answered, in a low tone, "She -died that night, Ferdinand. You remember more than I thought, and I -doubt not a few words would make you remember much more still. But -here we are upon the top of the hill, and if Father George requires -you to-night, it will be well for you to ride on quickly, for the day -will be dawning ere long."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I had better go to the castle first," replied Ferdinand; "for if the -Count be not on his way to Eppenfeld, he may blame me for delay."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No need, no need," answered the smith; "he is on the way, I am sure; -but we shall find some of the men at the forge, who will tell us. -There lies the village, not a hundred yards in advance."</p> - -<p class="normal">The tidings they received at the blacksmith's dwelling showed, as he -had expected, that the Count of Ehrenstein had passed nearly an hour -before, and that, having met, farther on, and questioned some of the -party to whom Ferdinand owed his deliverance, he had sent back a -message by them, commanding his young follower not to join him at -Eppenfeld, but to remain at the Castle of Ehrenstein till his return.</p> - -<p class="normal">Bidding adieu to the smith, with hearty thanks, Ferdinand spurred on -alone, but paused for a moment at the chapel in the wood, and knocked -at the door of the good priest. At first no answer was returned, but a -second summons soon roused Father George from his slumbers, and -brought him to the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">The grey dawn was now beginning to break, and as soon as the priest -beheld the face of his young ward, he exclaimed, "Not to-night, -Ferdinand, not to-night.--Night do I call it? Heaven help us! it is -morning. See you not the sun coming up there? To-morrow night, my boy, -as soon as all in the castle are asleep, come down, and bring the lady -with you. I pray this Baron of Eppenfeld may keep the Counts before -his tower for a day or two."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I doubt that such will be the case, good Father," answered Ferdinand, -"for there is a postern open, and they have tidings of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is unlucky," said the priest, "but speed you on to the castle, -and hide well your purpose from every eye. Let no one see you -thoughtful or agitated, and go early to rest, as if you were tired -with the labours of the days past. Away, Ferdinand, away."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man waved his hand and rode on, and in a few minutes his -horse was in front of the great gates. Beckoning to one of the -sentinels on the walls, he told him to go down and wake the warder to -let him in. But the man came down himself, and unbarred the gates, -while Ferdinand, dismounting, led his horse across the draw-bridge.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha! God's benison on you, Master Ferdinand!" said the soldier. "You -have luck to get out of the castle of Eppenfeld. How did you manage -that?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will tell you all another time, Henry," replied the young -gentleman. "I am tired now, and hungry, to say sooth. Who is in the -castle?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, the Count went forth some time ago," replied the man, "and left -nought but a guard of twenty men, with the women, and Count -Frederick's priest, and him they call Martin of Dillberg."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand muttered something to himself which the soldier did not -hear, and then led on his horse towards the stable. None of the grooms -were up; but every young gentleman in those days was well accustomed -to tend his own horse, and, though it must be confessed, the escaped -captive did what was necessary for his poor charger as rapidly as -possible, yet he did not neglect him. As soon as this duty was -accomplished, he hurried back into the castle; and had any one been -watching him, it might have been observed that his step became more -light and noiseless as he ascended the great stairs, and passed along -the corridor, which stretched across one entire side of the principal -mass of the building. At the door next but one to that of the Count of -Ehrenstein, he paused for several moments, and looked up with an -anxious and hesitating look, as if he doubted whether he should go in. -But the morning light was by this time shining clear through the -casements; he heard the sound of persons moving below, and for -Adelaide's sake he forbore, and walked on towards the narrow staircase -which led to his own chamber. Ere he had taken ten steps, however, a -sound, as slight as the whisper of the summer wind, caused him to stop -and turn his head; and he saw the face of Bertha looking out from her -mistress's apartments. Instantly going back as noiselessly as -possible, he whispered, "Is your lady waking? Can I come in?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not unless you are mad," answered Bertha. "She has been up all night, -and I too, God wot--though I have slept comfortably in the corner. But -thank Heaven you are safe and well, for her little foolish heart would -break easy enough if anything were to happen to your unworthiness. But -what news? When did you return?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am but this instant back," answered the lover, "I have been captive -at Eppenfeld, and only freed by good Franz Creussen. Tell her that I -have seen Father George, however, and that he says--mark well, -Bertha--to-morrow night, as soon as all is quiet in the castle. She -will soon understand."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I understand, too," answered Bertha, "for I have seen Father -George as well as you--forced to go down to do your errands. Well, -poor souls, as there is no other to help you, I must. But now tell me -how is all this to be arranged?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will come, I will come," replied Ferdinand, "as soon as every one -is asleep."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, on my word, you gain courage quickly," exclaimed Bertha. "You -will come! What, here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, anywhere," rejoined Ferdinand; "if it cost me life, pretty -Bertha, I would come--but hark, there are people stirring above--Tell -your lady--adieu."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Be cautious, be cautious, rash young man," said the girl, and -instantly drawing back, closed the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the stairs Ferdinand encountered Martin of Dillberg, who would fain -have stopped him to speak of his adventures; but the former passed on, -after a brief answer to the youth's inquiry regarding his escape; and -Martin of Dillberg proceeded on his way, with his lip curling for a -moment in a sneering smile, which faded away quickly, and gave place -to a look of deep and anxious thought.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand sought no great length of repose; but was speedily down -again in the halls of the castle, on the battlements, in the -corridors, in the hope of somewhere meeting her he loved. Nor was he -disappointed; for some hours before noon, Adelaide came forth, with -hopes and wishes like his own, to walk upon the walls.--But hardly -had she and Ferdinand met--not ten words had been spoken between -them--when Martin of Dillberg was at the lady's side; and thus during -the whole day were they deprived of all means of direct communication. -As if he divined their object, and was resolved to frustrate it, the -youth was always on the watch, ever near, never abashed, although the -effect of his presence on their conversation was only too visible. -Thus passed by hour after hour, till towards evening, tidings arrived -that the two Counts were still beneath the walls of Eppenfeld, and -that but little progress had been made in the siege. Ferdinand -questioned the messenger as to whether the postern by which he had -escaped had been attempted; but upon that point the man could give him -no information; and the young gentleman thought it his duty to send -the soldier back to his lord with intelligence in case the news which -had been formerly sent had been misunderstood or not received--and -with a request that he might be permitted to join the attacking force -on the following day.</p> - -<p class="normal">For one brief moment, soon after the messenger had departed, Adelaide -and her lover were alone together; and ere their tormentor was upon -them again, she had time to say, "Bertha has told me all, dear -Ferdinand, I shall be ready."</p> - -<p class="normal">Not long after, she retired to her own apartments for the night; and -her lover remained in the hall with Martin of Dillberg and Count -Frederick's chaplain, trying to weary them out, till nearly eleven -o'clock at night. Then declaring that he was tired with all that he -had done during the preceding day,--which was true enough,--he -withdrew to his own chamber, and there sat meditating over the -happiness of the coming hour. The moments seemed sadly long; it -appeared as if the sounds of voices speaking and closing doors would -never end; but at length the noises ceased, one after the other; and -after waiting half an hour without hearing anything stir within the -walls, with a beating but happy heart, Ferdinand approached his door, -opened it, and listened.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XIX.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The whole castle of Eppenfeld slept as tranquilly for several hours -after Ferdinand of Altenburg had left it, as if no danger had -threatened its lord, and no troops were marching to attack it; and it -is very probable that the evasion of the young captive, and the means -of entrance which he had left open for the enemy, would not have been -discovered till chance or humanity led some one in the place to send -him food, had it not been for an accidental event which happened -during the night. We have seen that one of the motives for preventing -the young gentleman's return to his lord, was to afford time for -storing the castle with provisions; and various parties had been sent -out to scour the country for that purpose. Some of the leaders went -nearly drunk, and returned sober, and some went sober and returned -nearly drunk. Amongst the latter was a personage who, accompanied by -two companions, found his way to a village where they enjoyed -themselves for a couple of hours; and then, finding it late, and no -progress made in their foray, they rode on to the side of a hill, -where the villagers were accustomed to feed their swine, and -possessing themselves of the unruly beasts, commenced the far more -difficult enterprise of driving them to the castle. Now the distance -could scarcely be less than ten miles; and if any one considers what -it is for three men, not very sober, to drive sixty swine such a -distance, he will not be surprised that the task occupied many hours. -Nevertheless, on approaching the castle, which they did by the lesser -entrance at the back, the marauders found their flock shorn of its -fair proportions, and not more than forty of the beasts which never -chew the cud could be mustered, notwithstanding all the counting which -the three soldiers could accomplish. One of the hogs had run one way, -another another. One had committed suicide by throwing itself into a -stream, rather than follow the course on which fate and circumstances -were driving it; another had been run through the body by one of the -soldiers, somewhat too eager in pursuit; others had rushed back -between the horses, and had effected their escape; while others again -lay down upon the road, and refused to move even when the lance galled -their sturdy chines.</p> - -<p class="normal">Within a mile of Eppenfeld, however, the leader fancied that he had -got the remainder of the herd in security, for the road was narrow, -and led straight up to the lesser gate of the castle. Unfortunately, -however, the small foot-path communicating with the postern, branched -off on the right hand of the road about a hundred yards' distance from -the walls. Though it was night, and the whole party, horse and foot, -was tired, a brisk young porker, who seemed to set fatigue at -defiance, instantly perceived the way to the postern, and as it was -evidently a path which his drivers did not wish to pursue, he darted -towards it, with a sort of caracole, and a grunt of intimation to his -companions. The hint was not lost upon them, and with one universal -whine of delight, the whole herd were instantly running along the -path, and thence pursuing their way by the narrow ledge of rock under -the wall of the castle.</p> - -<p class="normal">To follow on horseback was out of the question, but two of the men -instantly sprang to the ground, with a multitude of curious and -high-sounding German oaths, and rushed after the bristly fugitives. -Even then the open postern might have escaped observation, had not -pigs been fond of strange places; but exactly at the spot where the -small door stood open, a halt took place amongst the herd, and a -tremendous pressure from behind was the consequence. Five or six were -pitched over the edge of the rock, fracturing their skulls as they -fell, and the rest, finding that hesitation was destruction, parted -into two bodies, the one pursuing its way straightforward towards the -opposite road through the valley, the others rushing, jostling, and -squeaking, into the castle, as if it had been a great sty, for which, -indeed, they might very well mistake it.</p> - -<p class="normal">The pursuit of the first troop was evidently useless, and the two men, -turning after the second division, proceeded to close the door to -secure their prey, and then, for the first time, perceived that a -large portion of woodwork, between the iron bands which secured the -door, had been sawn away. To have found the postern open would have -been nothing very marvellous in their eyes, considering the state of -discipline in which they lived; but the work of the saw was convincing -proof to them that somebody had been sawing; and driving the pigs -before them into the court-yard, they at once proceeded to inquire who -the sawyer was.</p> - -<p class="normal">The whole castle was speedily roused and in an uproar; and what -between the capture of the pigs, as they galloped about the wide -court-yard, the instant putting of them to death, in not the most -scientific manner, for want of food to keep them in a living and -unsalted state, and the various operations for rendering the postern -even more defensible than before, the active labours of the whole -garrison were not over when daylight broke upon the castle, and the -spears and pennons of the forces of Ehrenstein and Leiningen were seen -coming up the valley.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Baron laughed loud and long, as he watched the approach of the -enemy. "Not a hundred and fifty men," he exclaimed; "on my life! I -have a great mind to go out and meet them; why we have eighty here -within the walls, and methinks the reiters of Eppenfeld are at least -worth double those of Ehrenstein--but we will let them waste -themselves upon the postern, for doubtless that young coistrel will -direct them thither."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I rather think they will strive to take us by famine, my valiant -lord," replied Fritz, who was standing by him; "for depend upon it -they have made such speed in order to prevent us from providing -against a siege."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then we will give the lie to their expectations," cried the Baron of -Eppenfeld. "Ho! bring us some good stout beams here. We will hang out -a new sort of banner, such as they have never seen. Plant one firmly -in every tower, and then bring up the carcasses of the pigs and oxen."</p> - -<p class="normal">Under his directions the slaughtered cattle were pulled up aloft, and -hung out from the battlements, like the banners of those days; and for -some minutes the approaching force could not make out the meaning of -this strange display.</p> - -<p class="normal">"By Heaven! I believe he has hanged the poor fellows who went with our -young friend Ferdinand," exclaimed Count Frederick, as the pigs, being -the lightest, were first swung up to the top of the beams.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay, my good lord," cried Seckendorf, "they seem to me like -swine. Ay, and there goes an ox, too, depend upon it he intends to -allow us that he can hold out for a month or two."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let us to the postern with all speed," said old Karl of Mosbach; "he -may find us in the donjon ere dinner time to help him eat his pork."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let it be well reconnoitred first," said the Count of Ehrenstein; -"there is no use of our throwing away men's lives upon a useless -attempt. It is evident that he is prepared to receive us. He has -probably divined that we would come so soon, from the discovery of the -lad's escape; and if so, depend upon it, the postern has been -strengthened."</p> - -<p class="normal">A party was accordingly detached to examine carefully the approach to -the proposed point of attack, and advanced some way up the path -leading from the valley. The walls of the castle were fully manned; -and hand guns not having been yet invented, bows and crossbows were -bent against the enemy: but not an arrow was discharged or a quarrel -let fly, till the men of Ehrenstein having advanced considerably -within range, discovered that the postern was blocked up in such a -manner as would render any attack upon it hopeless with so small a -force. No sooner did they commence their retreat, however, than a -flight of missiles assailed them from the walls, greatly hastening -their speed, and wounding several.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, ha!" cried the Baron, "they have had enough of the postern, and -they will soon have had enough of the castle. It is too hard a stone -for the teeth of these two poor Counts!"</p> - -<p class="normal">But the worthy lord greatly miscalculated the character of one at -least of his adversaries. The Count of Ehrenstein, indeed, would very -willingly have accepted the liberation of his men as compensation for -all offences; but the Baron did not even think fit to give the -slightest sign of making that reparation; and Count Frederick was not -a man to suffer any difficulties to divert him in his efforts to wipe -out what he considered as both an insult and an injury. Shortly after -the return of the reconnoitring party to their companions, various -movements were observed amongst the assailants which somewhat puzzled -the people on the walls, and discouraged the more wary and -experienced. Three or four horsemen rode off in different directions -at full speed; and the rest of the forces, dividing into two parties, -posted themselves on the roads on either side of the castle, while the -two Counts, with some ten or twelve picked men, took up their position -under the shade of a large clump of beech trees, on the side of the -hill opposite to the postern, whence both of the principal gates of -Eppenfeld could be seen, and succour afforded to either of the bodies -of assailants in case a sortie should be made from the walls. There -dismounting from their horses, the two noblemen and their followers -stretched themselves on the grass, and seemed calmly waiting for the -result of the steps they had taken.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Depend upon it, my good lord, they have sent to Neustadt for a party -of those dogged citizens," said Fritz, "or perhaps to Landau for -cannon."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nonsense and folly!" exclaimed the Baron, "they can never drag cannon -up here. Why, the great pierrier of Landau weighs a couple of ton, and -the little one a ton. They may bring a falconet, but that will do no -good; and as to the pigs of Neustadt, we will slaughter them as they -come, and send them home pickled to their fat wives."</p> - -<p class="normal">Still it was evident that the worthy lord was by no means comfortable; -and his uneasiness increased when he saw the men of Leiningen begin to -cut down and shape some stout trees. He had so frequently beheld -persons of power and courage, whom he had injured or offended, turn -away, hopeless of redress, after a short demonstration against his -stronghold, that he had calculated boldly upon such being the case in -the present instance, and the signs of resolution and perseverance -displayed by the two Counts, showed him plainly that the far more -serious and discouraging affair of a siege was likely to follow. With -dogged resolution, however, he held to resistance, and the only effect -upon his mind was to make him take immediate measures for still -further strengthening the defences of his castle. Great beams were -placed across the gates, and the lower part of each was piled up with -rubbish, which was very abundant within the building. The stones of -the court-yard were taken up and carried to the battlements, to cast -down upon the heads of any of the assailants who might venture to -approach the walls; and several of the men, more dexterous than the -rest, were set to provide stores of arrows and bolts, lest the -provision already made should be exhausted. At the same time -considerable quantities of wine were distributed amongst the men, to -keep up their spirits; and as a warning to the rest, one of the -soldiers, who ventured to hint that it might be better for the Baron -to accommodate matters with the two Counts, had the lobes of his ears -slit with a short dagger: his lord declaring that he was only fit to -wear earrings.</p> - -<p class="normal">Nevertheless, there was something in the calm immobility of the enemy, -which created very unpleasant sensations in the bosom of the Baron of -Eppenfeld. It was evident that they were waiting for farther -assistance, and the perfect tranquillity of their aspect led him to -believe that they felt confident that assistance would be complete and -overpowering. Though not a very imaginative man, he tortured his fancy -during the whole day, to divine whence and of what kind the expected -succour would be. But about half an hour before nightfall, all doubts -upon the subject were brought to an end, by the appearance, first, of -a large body of pikemen on foot, in whom he instantly recognised, by -their banners, the commons of several neighbouring towns, who had -suffered by his spirit of appropriation, and, secondly, of a -considerable force of horse bearing the cognizance of the House of -Hardenberg. Worse than all, however, were seen, in the midst, two long -wagons, dragged slowly forward by eight or ten bullocks, each -displaying a large, clumsy-looking implement, somewhat like the lopped -trunk of a tree, which he had little doubt were neither more nor less -than the two great cannon of Landau, against which, if once brought to -bear upon the gates, the castle could not stand an hour. His only hope -was, that their bulk and weight would render them unserviceable; but -Count Frederick of Leiningen was seen to ride down instantly to meet -his advancing allies, and by the time that night fell, two of the -wheels had been detached from the wagons, together with the axle, and -the larger cannon had been swung between them so dexterously, and with -such an even balance, that it was moved without difficulty at least -two or three hundred yards on the road to Eppenfeld.</p> - -<p class="normal">The fall of night prevented it from being used immediately; but there -it remained just before the gates, at the distance of perhaps two -bowshots, haunting the imagination of the Baron with the thought of -its fire on the succeeding day. Still he strove to make the evening -meal pass cheerfully, and plenty of his best wine was poured forth to -raise the courage of the soldiery; but, alas, without effect. The -great gun of Landau was a sort of nightmare, which sat upon the -stomachs of the stout men-at-arms; and a better means could not have -been devised of sparing the provisions of the garrison, than by -bringing it before the gates.</p> - -<p class="normal">Some of the garrison drank deep indeed, either from pure recklessness, -or a keen sense of danger, which they wished to get rid of by the -pleasantest process at hand; but the wine seemed all to be poured into -the great gun of Landau; for it certainly produced no greater effect -upon those who imbibed it than it would have done upon that huge mass -of wood and iron. The watch fires that were now seen blazing around -the castle on every side, showed that the Leaguer was strict, and that -no path of escape was unguarded; and though the Baron affected to be -jovial, and to laugh at the Counts and their men, who were forced to -sleep under the canopy of heaven, yet there was a wandering and -uncertain look in his eye, and an anxious glance every now and then to -the countenance of his friend Fritz, which told that the mind within -was anything but easy.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, as if he could bear it no longer, the Baron rose, and -beckoned his lieutenant into a little chamber in the neighbouring -tower, where the propriety of a surrender, on conditions, was formally -discussed, without any consideration of the ears that had been slit a -few hours before.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You had better send some one out, my lord," said Fritz, "to say that -you will give up the prisoners and the treasure. I would not offer -more at first; for, depend upon it, they'll demand more, and you can -but grant at last."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But who can I send?" said the Baron. "If I choose one of our own men, -he will either get drunk amongst the enemy, or go over to their -party."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's very likely," answered Fritz; "shall I go?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Humph! I can't spare you," said the Baron.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, send one of the prisoners," rejoined Fritz. "If he stays, -it can't be helped; and we can offer him reward if he comes back. We -had better not let the men know anything about it."</p> - -<p class="normal">This course was accordingly adopted. One of the men of Ehrenstein, who -seemed the most sagacious of the party, was led by Fritz to a postern -opposite to that which had been blocked up, and despatched with a -message to the two Counts. Fritz remained to watch for his return upon -the battlements above; and the Baron himself went back to the flask, -to console expectation as well as he could.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He will be here in a couple of hours, I dare say," said the Baron; -but his enemies did not make him wait so long. At the end of an hour, -Fritz appeared with the messenger, who bore a scrap of written paper -in his hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What the devil is this?" said the Baron, looking at it askance, as -the man handed it to him. "Does he think we've clerks and shavelings -here in Eppenfeld? Could he not speak plain German, and send message -for message?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Fritz gazed at it with the same hopeless look; but the messenger -relieved them from their difficulty by saying, "He read it over to me -twice; so I can tell you what it means. Let me look at the marks, -however, to bring it in my mind. Thus it runs: 'Count Frederick of -Leiningen,'--ay, that's his name there 'and the Count of Ehrenstein to -the Baron of Eppenfeld.' He requires the immediate surrender of the -castle, the restoration of the treasure taken from the Venetian -merchants, compensation from the goods of the Baron for the wrong done -and the trouble given. 'Upon these conditions his life shall be -spared; but the castle shall be levelled with the ground, and never -rebuilt.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">The man paused; and the Baron of Eppenfeld swore an oath, such as -probably no mouth but that of one of the robber chivalry of those days -ever contained or gave vent to. It terminated, however, with a vow, -that he would die under the ruins of his stronghold, sooner than -submit to such conditions; and his worthy lieutenant was quite sure he -would keep his word. Neither, it must be confessed, did Fritz himself -greatly differ in opinion from his lord. The castle of Eppenfeld was, -in fact, his principal means of subsistence; and, although he might -perhaps have found some other, if it were taken away, yet there was -none on the face of the earth that he thought worth living for; and a -gallant defence and death, sword in hand, were things too frequently -in the contemplation of persons in his station, to cause him much -emotion at the prospect of their being realized.</p> - -<p class="normal">Fritz, however, was somewhat shrewder in his observations than the -Baron; and as soon as the latter had done blaspheming, the lieutenant -inquired, addressing their messenger, "Whom did you see, fellow? You -bring a letter from both the Counts; yet, when you speak of them, you -say always, 'He,' as if only one had had a hand in it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I saw Count Frederick of Leiningen," answered the messenger; "but he -said he had power to write for both, as my own lord was sleeping: and -now I pray you send me back as you promised. It may go worse with you, -if you do not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You shall go--you shall go," replied Fritz, "for you will have a -message to take back;" and then drawing the Baron aside for a moment -or two, he spoke to him eagerly in a whisper.</p> - -<p class="normal">"By the eleven thousand virgins thou art right," cried the Lord of -Eppenfeld at length; "so shall it be. Go back, rascal," he continued, -addressing the messenger, "and tell Count Frederick that he shall rot -before Eppenfeld, and I will eat the stones thereof, before I take -such conditions. Tell him I care not for his bombards; the walls are -proof against them, and he will find this hold a harder morsel than he -thinks. That for Count Frederick!--But now mark me--seek out your own -lord privately, and say to him that I love him better than his -comrade, that I served him well in former times, and that if he will -withdraw his people, and leave me to deal with Count Frederick alone, -he shall have the treasure; but if not, I will send a message by nine -of the clock to-morrow morning to him and his friend, just to remind -him of how I did serve him many years ago. Mark me well, say every -word just as I say it;" and he repeated the whole with great accuracy.</p> - -<p class="normal">The man promised to obey, and, again conducted by Fritz, was led out -of the castle.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That will diminish them by one-half," said the Baron, as soon as his -lieutenant returned to him, "and then for one bold stroke and -victory."</p> - -<p class="normal">Numerous discussions subsequently took place between the Lord of -Eppenfeld and his friend, in regard to preparations for the morrow; -numerous precautions were also taken; strict watch was enjoined; but -then, alas! the Baron and Fritz also returned to the flask, and many -others in the castle followed their example. The lieutenant, at a late -hour, betook himself to the walls, where he found all in order, and -paced up and down some time in a sort of dreamy state, where thought -and wine contended for the mastery; but the hour of three found him -sound asleep upon the battlements, with his head pillowed on a stone.</p> - -<p class="normal">How long he remained thus Fritz did not know; but the first thing that -woke him was a tremendous explosion just below. The whole castle -shook; some of the loose stones fell from the watch-tower above, and -well it was for Fritz, at that moment, that he had his steel morion on -his head. He was hardly roused, however, his whole senses were in -confusion and disarray, when loud shouts and cries from the court rose -up, and conveyed him better intelligence of the event which had taken -place than even the explosion; there were sounds of blows, and -clashing steel, and of heavy axes falling upon wood-work, and -exclamations of "Place taken! Place taken! Yield or die!" with many a -similar speech, which showed clearly enough that the garrison was not -alone in Eppenfeld.</p> - -<p class="normal">The want of brute courage, however, was not the defect of Fritz's -character, and the next instant he dashed down, sword in hand, to the -court, collecting one or two of his comrades as he went, and -exclaiming, "It is now for life! they will give no quarter! fight like -devils! we may yet drive them back!" But the scene that presented -itself in the court might have proved to any one willing to be -convinced, that, fight how they would, the garrison of Eppenfeld had -no chance of successful resistance. The gate had been partly blown in -by the bombard, which had been quietly drawn close up to the walls, -and was every moment presenting a wider aperture under the blows of -the axe; an overpowering number of adverse soldiery was already in the -court; others were rushing in through the gap in the gate; torches -could be seen coming up the slope, and displaying a stream of human -heads cased in iron pouring on. Everything proved that defence was -hopeless, but the Baron of Eppenfeld was already below, and with -fierce efforts, aided by some thirty of his men, was striving to drive -back the assailants and recover possession of the gateway. Fritz and -those who were with him hurried on to his assistance, and soon were -hand to hand with the enemy. Their arrival gave some new vigour to the -resistance, and the men of Leiningen and the citizens who were joined -with them, gave way a little; but fresh numbers poured in behind; the -Baron went down with a thundering blow upon his steel cap; and Fritz -received a wound in the throat which covered his cuirass with gore.</p> - -<p class="normal">With great difficulty the Lord of Eppenfeld was raised in the press, -and borne somewhat back; but as soon as he could stand he rushed upon -the enemy again, and aimed his blows around with the fury of despair. -His men gradually gave way, however, a number fell never to rise -again; but beaten back, step by step, they were, at length, forced -against the wall of the donjon, with nothing but the narrow doorway -behind them left as a means of escape. The man who was nearest it felt -his courage yield, turned, and ran towards the postern on the east. -Some cried, "I yield, I yield! good quarter, good quarter!" Others -fled after the first, and the Baron of Eppenfeld, seeing that all was -lost, looked round with glaring eyes, doubtful whether he should seek -safety in flight by the postern into the open country, or die in arms -where he stood.</p> - -<p class="normal">At that very moment, however, a loud voice cried, "Take him alive! -take him alive! The man with the wivern on his head!" and half a dozen -of the soldiers of Leiningen rushed towards him. One instantly went -down under a blow of his sword, but before it could fall again upon -the head of another, the rest were upon him, and the weapon was -wrenched from his grasp.</p> - -<p class="normal">A scene of wild confusion followed, which cannot be adequately -described. There was chasing through passages and chambers, hunting -out fugitives in remote places, driving them along the walls, seeking -them in vaults and towers; and many a deep groan and shrill cry of the -death agony attested that all the barbarous cruelties of a storming -were perpetrated in the halls of Eppenfeld. Some were taken alive, but -a greater number escaped by the postern into the country. There, -however, they were almost instantly captured; for the bands of the -Count of Ehrenstein had been left to keep guard without, and only two -or three of the fugitives found their way to the woods.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean time Count Frederick as soon as all resistance was over, -strode on to the hall, with a small number of his attendants who had -never left his side. There seating himself in the Baron's great chair, -he ordered the room to be cleared of all persons but two, while a -party remained to guard the door. His selection of his two councillors -was somewhat strange, for, though one was indeed a person in whom he -might be supposed to place confidence, being an old and faithful -knight who had accompanied him through all his wars while serving with -the knights of St. John, the other was no greater a personage than the -jester, who, however, took his seat beside the Count with great -gravity.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next moment, according to orders previously given, the Baron of -Eppenfeld was brought in between two men, with all his offensive arms -taken from him, and his head uncovered. The two soldiers who guarded -him there were instantly ordered to withdraw, and what followed -between the victor and the vanquished was only known to the four who -remained. The conversation was not long, however, for in less than -five minutes the soldiers were recalled, and ordered to remove the -Baron to his own chamber, treating him with courtesy.</p> - -<p class="normal">The man named Fritz was next called for, and while the Count's -followers were seeking for him, one of Count Frederick's knights -brought him the keys of the treasure room, and a roll of papers. -Several minutes elapsed before Fritz could be found, and just as he -was discovered at length, lying severely wounded amongst the dead in -the court, the Count of Ehrenstein, entered the castle with some of -his attendants, and after inquiring where Count Frederick was, made -his way to the hall, which he seemed to know well.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is the Baron living or dead?" he asked, as soon as he entered.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Living, living, my noble friend," replied Count Frederick, in his -usual gay tone. "Caught like a badger; dug out of his hole, and biting -at all who came near him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He might as well have died," said the Count of Ehrenstein, with a -cloudy brow; "we shall be troubled to know what to do with him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, if he would not be killed, we cannot help it," cried Count -Frederick; "though he seems a venomous snake indeed.--Ah! here comes -his worthy comrade, Herr Fritz!--Cannot he stand? He seems badly -hurt.--Well, noble Sir, I shall not trouble you with many questions, -You, it seems, led the party who plundered our Italian merchants; -whence got you tidings of their coming?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"From one of your own people; Count," replied the wounded man. "I know -not his name; but the Baron can tell you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where is the Baron?" demanded the Count of Ehrenstein. "I will go and -ask him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, he is caged,--he is caged," answered Count Frederick. "We shall -have time enough to question him hereafter."</p> - -<p class="normal">His noble companion did not seem very well satisfied with his answer, -but bent his eyes moodily on the ground; while the man Fritz took up -the conversation, in a sullen tone, saying, "I hope you will not -question me farther, my lord the Count; for I am faint from loss of -blood, and it is high time that you should either have me tended, or -end me at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, Heaven forfend, Herr Fritz!" exclaimed Count Frederick; "we -shall want you hereafter, since you say it was one of my men who -helped you to your rich booty. Take him away, and try and stanch the -bleeding of his wounds. Give him some wine, if they have not drunk it -all; and then bring me water, that I may wash my hands. Nay, why so -grave, my noble fellow-soldier?" he continued, turning to the Count of -Ehrenstein; "but it is true you have lived long in peace, and are not -so much accustomed as myself to see scenes of slaughter and -destruction; and yet we must leave no part of the work here undone. I -will not quit Eppenfeld while there is one beam of timber spanning -from wall to wall. Nevertheless, it is not needful that you should -stay."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I will bear you company," said he of Ehrenstein. "It is true I -love not to see such things, yet still--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, but it is needless," interrupted Count Frederick. "You shall -guard the prisoners and the treasure back to Ehrenstein; while I will -remain and see the nest of plunderers destroyed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And the Baron?" asked his friend, with a hesitating look. "He goes -with you, of course," replied Count Frederick; "only keep him safe, -for he is a wily fox."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, that I will," replied the other, with a countenance which -suddenly brightened; "yet if I could aid you here, I am quite willing -to stay."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No need,--no need," answered Count Frederick. "I have men and means -enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, I will go and prepare for departure," said the Count of -Ehrenstein, "and will give you a victor's banquet when you arrive."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he moved towards the door; and as he quitted the hall, -Count Frederick of Leiningen gave a meaning glance, half sad, half -sarcastic, first to the jester, and then to the old knight.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XX.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The whole castle of Ehrenstein was still as the grave. There are times -when distant murmurs of busy life, when the hum of insects in the air, -when the scarce heard voice of the distant nightingale, when the -whisper of a passing breeze, that speaks as if but to make the -stillness felt, seem to increase the sensation of the silence. But -there is a deeper, deader silence than that, when all is so profoundly -tranquil that it seems as if no sound would ever wake again, when -death itself seems powerful over all; and the absence of all activity -makes us feel as if our own being was the only living principle left -existent upon earth. But it brings with it no idea of annihilation. It -seems but the utter exclusion of all mortal things, as if the -animation of clay were over, and the noiseless reign of spirit were -begun. The soul, no longer jostled by the life of flesh, seems to walk -forth at large, and to have freer communication with things as -immaterial as itself. The essence within us feels as if a thick and -misty veil were withdrawn, and things unseen in the dull glare of the -animal day were apparent to the kindred spirit in the hour of -temporary death. But this is only felt when entire silence pervades -all things; when there is no voice of bird or insect, no whispered -breeze, no distant sound of those that watch at night; when all is -still, and, to the ignorance of individual being, it seems that the -one who feels is the only one who lives. Then is the hour of -expectation; for if, according to the old philosophy, nature abhors a -vacuum, the void she most abhors is the absence of all action. The -heart of every living thing is ever asking, "What next?" and the -deepest conviction implanted in the mind of man is, that want of -activity is extinction. Even sleep itself has its sensation and its -dream; and to him who wakes while all the rest are buried in -forgetfulness, there is a constant looking for something assimilating -in solemnity with the hour, and the darkness, and the silence, to -break the unnatural lack of busy life that seems around. Oh! how fancy -then wanders through the wide unoccupied extent, and seeks for -something active like itself, and, debarred all communion with beings -of earth, ventures into the unsubstantial world, and perchance finds a -responding voice to answer her cry for companionship.</p> - -<p class="normal">It would seem that there is almost a contradiction in terms under the -philosophy that admits the existence of a world of spirits, and yet -denies that there can be any means of communication between that world -and the spirits still clothed in flesh; but, even in the most -sceptical, there are misdoubtings of their own unbelief; and to every -one who thinks, there come moments when there arise such questions as -these: Where lies the barrier between us and those above us--between -us and those who have gone before? Can we speak across the gulf? Is it -bridged over by any path? Is there a gulf indeed?--or, in this -instance, as in all others through the universal scheme, is the -partition but thin and incomplete that separates us from the order -next above?</p> - -<p class="normal">Such are at least questions with all but the most purely worldly even -in a most purely worldly age; but, in the times I write of, doubts on -such subjects were precluded by faith and by tradition. Activity, -indeed, and thought, occupied continually by matters the least -spiritual, banished reflections upon such subjects during the great -part of each man's time. But reflection was needless where conviction -was ever present; and if speculation indulged itself in times of -solitude and silence, it was only in regard to what our relations -could be with the immaterial world, not whether there were any -relations at all.</p> - -<p class="normal">Everything was still and motionless as the grave when Ferdinand -descended slowly from his chamber in the castle of Ehrenstein, and -entered the broad corridor which stretched across the great mass of -the building. It was very dark, for no moon was up; and, though the -stars were bright and many in the sky, the light they afforded through -the dim casements was but small. The night was still, too; for no wind -moved the trees; not a cloud crossed the sky; and, as it was colder -than it had been, the insects ceased for a time from their activity, -too early begun, and the song of the minstrel of the night was not -heard. Everyone in the castle itself seemed sound asleep; no doors -creaked on the hinges, no voice of guest or serving-man was heard from -below, the very sentinel was keeping guard still and silently, like -the starry watchers in the sky overhead.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand's heart beat quick, but it was not with the thought of all -the strange and fearful sights he had seen in the place which he was -now about to revisit--though he did think of them; it was not with -that vague mysterious awe inspired by any near approach in mind to -things beyond this world of warm and sunny life. He was going, for the -first time, at night and in darkness, to the chamber of her he loved, -to guide her through strange scenes, alone and unwatched for many an -hour to come, upon an errand of which he knew nothing but that it was -promised a happy end; and his whole frame thrilled with the emotions -so sweet, so joyful, that are only known to early, pure, and ardent -love.</p> - -<p class="normal">With the unlighted lamp in his hand, he approached the door, and -quietly raised the latch. All was silent in the little anteroom, but -there was a light burning there, and Bertha sitting sleeping soundly -in a chair, with some woman's work fallen at her feet. Ferdinand did -not wake her; for Adelaide had told him to come when it was needful, -even to her own chamber; and, approaching the door of that room, he -opened it quietly, and went in. Adelaide slept not, for in her heart, -too, were busy emotions that defy slumber. As she saw him, she sprang -to meet him, with all the joy and confidence of love; but yet it was -with a glow in her cheek, and a slight agitated trembling of her -limbs, which she could not overcome, though she knew not why she -shook, for she had no fears--she no longer had any doubts of her own -acts.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am ready, Ferdinand," she whispered, after one dear caress; "let us -go at once--nay, love, let us go."</p> - -<p class="normal">He led her silently into the next room, where the lover lighted his -lamp; and the lady gently woke her sleeping maid, and whispered her to -watch for their return. Then onward through the corridor they went, -and down the stairs, till they reached the door of the great hall.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hark!" whispered Adelaide, "did you not hear a sound?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"We may hear many, dear one," answered the young gentleman in the same -tone; "aye, and we may see strange and fearful sights too, but we will -not let them daunt us, my beloved. I have trod these paths before, and -they are familiar to me; but to you, love, they are new, and may be -frightful. Look not around, then, dear girl; rest on my arm, keep your -eyes on the ground, and give ear to no sound. I will guide you -safely."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he opened the hall door carefully, and, with some feeling -of relief, saw that all within was dark and silent. Closing it as soon -as they had passed the threshold, he gazed around, but nothing was to -be seen but the drooping branches with which they had ornamented the -walls, hanging sickly and languid in the first process of decay, and -the flowers with which they had chapleted the columns already withered -and pale. Such are the ambitions and the joys of youth, and thus they -pass away.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is quiet, dear Adelaide," whispered Ferdinand. "May our whole way -be equally so. All evil spirits surely will keep aloof from an angel's -presence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush!" she said; "I fear not, Ferdinand, for I feel as if I were -engaged in a high duty, and till it is accomplished I am eager to go -on. I can walk quicker now."</p> - -<p class="normal">He led her on at a more rapid pace, unlocked the smaller door at the -other end of the hall, and, keeping her arm in his, entered the dark -and gloomy passage. Adelaide, notwithstanding his caution, looked up -and said, "It is a foul and sad-looking place, Indeed;" but she -neither paused nor slackened her steps, and in a few moments more they -stood at the mouth of the well stairs.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Put your hand on my shoulder, dearest," said Ferdinand; "and take -heed to every step; for all are damp and slippery, and many of the -stones decayed. Lean firmly upon me as I go down before you."</p> - -<p class="normal">She did as he told her; but as they descended amidst mould and slimy -damp, and heavy air, the whispering voices he had heard again sounded -on the ear, and Adelaide's heart beat, though she resisted terror to -the utmost. "Fear not, dear girl--fear not," he said; "we shall soon -be in the free air of the wood."</p> - -<p class="normal">She made no reply, but followed quickly, and at length they reached -the door below. As he pushed it open, a voice seemed to say, "They -come--they come. Hush, hush!" and he led her on into the serfs' -burial-place.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is a light," whispered Adelaide. "Good heavens! there must be -some one here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No one that will slay us," answered her lover. "It will soon be past, -dear girl." As he spoke, however, he raised his eyes, and saw a faint -light gleaming from the heavy column to which the skeleton-was -chained; and as undaunted he advanced, he saw written on the green -stone, as if in characters of flame, the word, "Vengeance!" and as he -gazed, low voices repeated, "Vengeance--vengeance!"</p> - -<p class="normal">He felt his fair companion tremble terribly; but now she bent down her -eyes, as he had bidden her, for she feared that her courage would give -way. The next instant, however, she started and paused, for she had -well nigh put her foot upon a skull, the grinning white teeth of -which, and rayless eye-holes, were raised towards her. "Ah, -Ferdinand!" she exclaimed; but he hurried her past, and on towards the -crypt of the chapel.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay," said Adelaide, as they passed through the low arch which -led thither. "This is very terrible; I feel faint."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yet a few steps farther," answered Ferdinand; "the free air will soon -revive you, and we shall be there in a moment."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, there came suddenly, from the lower chapel vaults before -them, a slow and solemn chant, as if several deep voices were singing -a dirge, and Ferdinand and Adelaide paused and listened while they -sang:--</p> -<div class="poem2"> - -<h4>DIRGE.</h4> - -<p class="t1">Peace to the dead! They rest</p> -<p class="t2">Calm in the silent bed.</p> -<p class="t1">They have tasted joy and sorrow;</p> -<p class="t2">They have lived and grieved,<br> -Have loved and been blest;</p> -<p class="t1">Nor thought of this dark to-morrow.</p> -<p class="t2">Peace to the happy dead!</p> -<br> -<p class="t1">Peace to the dead! No more</p> -<p class="t2">On them shall earth's changes shed</p> -<p class="t1">The blight of all joy and pleasure.</p> -<p class="t2">Their life is above,<br> -In the haven of love,</p> -<p class="t1">And their heart is with its treasure.</p> -<p class="t2">Peace to the happy dead!</p> -</div> - -<p class="normal">Though it was a sad and solemn air, and though the distinct words were -of as serious a character as the lips of man can pronounce, yet they -seemed rather to revive than to depress the spirits of Adelaide; and -as the music ceased, and the falling sounds died away in the long -aisles, she said,</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can go on now, Ferdinand. It is true there is something else to -live for than the life of this earth! and the very feeling that it is -so, and the keeping of that always before one's mind, seem not only to -hallow but to brighten the loves and joys of this being, when we -remember that if they are what they ought to be, they may be -protracted into eternity. I have been weak and cowardly, more than I -thought to be; but I will be so no more. The thought of death makes me -brave."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand was silent, for he felt that his love, if not more mortal, -was at least more human than hers; but he led her on, and now she -gazed around her by the light of the lamp, marking the coffins that -were piled up, and the monuments that were mingled with them,--now and -then commenting, by a word or two, as the faint rays fell first upon -one and then upon another, till at length they reached the door which -gave them exit into the forest, where the free air seemed to revive -her fully.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thank God!" she said, when they once more stood upon the side of the -hill. "How delightful it is to feel the wind upon one's cheek! After -all, this earth is full of pleasant things; and though the -contemplation of death and its presence may be salutary, yet they are -heavy upon the heart from their very solemnity. How shall we ever get -down this steep part of the rock?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay," said Ferdinand, who had been shading the light with his cloak; -"I will put the lamp within the door, and leave it burning; we shall -need it when we return. The way is not so steep as it seems, dearest, -and I will help and guide you."</p> - -<p class="normal">After securing the light, the young man returned to her side, as she -stood upon the little jutting pinnacle of crag, and aided her down the -descent; nor was the task aught but a very sweet one, for still her -hand rested in his, and often, perhaps without much need, his arm -glided round her waist to support her as she descended, and words of -love that they could now speak, fearless of overhearing ears, were -uttered at every pause upon their way. A gayer and a happier spirit, -too, seemed to come upon the fair girl after they had left the crypt; -sometimes, indeed, strangely mingled with a tone of sadness, but still -full of hope and tenderness. She even somewhat jested with her lover -on his passion, and asked in playful words, if he was sure, very sure, -of his own heart?--if their situations were altogether changed by some -of the strange turns of fate, and she but a poor dowerless maiden, -without station or great name, and he a prince of high degree, whether -his love would be the same?--whether he would still seek her for his -bride as ardently as then?</p> - -<p class="normal">I need not, surely, tell how Ferdinand answered her;--I need not say -what professions he made,--or how he once revenged himself for her -assumed doubts of a passion as true as her own. She made him promise a -thousand things too--things that to him seemed strange and wild: that -he would never willingly do aught that might break her heart,--that, -if ever they were married, he would for one month--for one short, -sweet month--do everything that she required. She made him -promise--nay, she made him vow it; and he was inclined to engage -largely for such sweet hopes as she held out; so that had a universe -been at his command, and all the splendours of destiny within his -reach, he would have given all, and more, for the bright vision that -her words called up; and yet he somewhat laughed at her exactions, and -gave his promise as playfully as she seemed to speak. But she would -have it seriously, she said, and made him vow it over and over again.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus went they on, descending the hill, and spending more time by the -way, in truth, than was altogether needful, till they came within -sight of the little chapel in the wood; and there a new mood seemed to -come over Ferdinand's fair companion. She stopped suddenly, and -gazing, by the faint light of the stars, upon the countenance which -memory served to show her more than her eyes, she asked, "And do you -really love me, Ferdinand? and will you ever love me as now?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do--I will for ever, Adelaide," he answered, drawing her nearer to -him,--"ever, ever!"</p> - -<p class="normal">But she, of her own accord, cast her arms around his neck, and leaning -her head upon his shoulder, seemed to him to weep. He pressed her to -his heart, he whispered all those words that he thought might soothe -and reassure her, but still she remained the same, till the door of -the chapel, which was about a hundred yards before them, opened, and -by the light which streamed out, Ferdinand saw the form of Father -George, looking forth as if anxious for their coming.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is looking for us, dearest," he said; "let us go on."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am ready--I am ready," replied Adelaide; and, wiping away what were -certainly drops from her eyes, she followed at once.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXI.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"I have been anxious for you, my children," said Father George, as -they entered his little chamber by the side of the chapel. "What, -weeping, Adelaide! Are you not happy? Have you a doubt?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"None, none," she answered, holding out her hand to Ferdinand. "I know -not why you sent for us, Father, but I am sure that whatever you -counsel is right, and I feel that my fate is linked to his, as my -heart is to his heart, and his to mine, I do believe; but there are -other tears than sad ones, good Father, and though mine are not sad, -they might well be so, considering all the objects on the path -hither."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Say, solemn, rather, my child," answered Father George; "but for the -rest: if you can love and do love, as I believe, there is happiness -before you. Are you prepared, Adelaide, to bind yourself to him you -love by bonds that cannot be broken?"</p> - -<p class="normal">She looked down, and the blood mounting into her cheek, then left it -as pale as alabaster; but her lips moved, and in a lone tone, she -said, "I am."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And you, Ferdinand," continued the priest, "are you prepared, at all -risks, to wed this fair lady--not with the vehement and ardent fire of -youth, though that I know you feel, but with the steadfast purpose and -desire to make her reasonable happiness, your great end and object of -existence; to seek it by all means, and at all times; to do her right -in every word, and thought, and deed; to be to her what God intended -man to be to woman, her support and strength, her protection and -her comfort, more than a friend, more than a brother, more than a -lover--one with herself in every good wish and purpose? Answer me -thoughtfully, my son, for I take a great responsibility upon me. I -counsel her to give her hand to you against every worldly custom and -all human policy; and if you ever make her regret that deed, the -sorrow and the shame will rest on me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am ready, Father," answered Ferdinand, "to take her hand as the -best gift that Heaven could give me, on the conditions and in the -terms you say. We are not like many others, Father, we have known each -other from youth's early days, when childhood has no concealments, and -the heart is without disguise. Deep affection and sincere regard have -ripened, on my part at least, into love that never can change, for one -whose heart I know too well to doubt that it can alter either. -Whatever dangers may beset our way--and I see many--there will be none -from changed affection.--But I beseech you play not with my hopes. I -know not much of such things, it is true, but I have heard that there -are difficulties often insuperable in the way of those who, at our age -and in our circumstances, would unite their fate together."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There are, my son," answered Father George; "but in your case I have -removed them. Here, under my hand," he continued, laying it as he -spoke upon a roll of parchment on the table, "I have a dispensation -from our Holy Father, the Pope, for your immediate marriage; and for -weighty reasons which I have stated to him by the mouth of his Legate, -he gives me full authority and power to celebrate it whenever occasion -shall serve. No moment could be more favourable than the present--no -moment when it is more needful. Dangers, my son, there may be; but -they are not such as you anticipate; and watchful eyes are upon you to -ward off anything that may menace; but fail not either of you, if you -see the slightest cause for alarm, to give me warning by some means; -and now, my children, come with me; for the night wears, and you must -not be long absent."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand took Adelaide's hand in his, and followed the priest into -the chapel, by the small door, in the side of his little room, which -led almost direct to the altar. He gazed at her fondly as he went, and -joy, the deepest he had ever felt in life, was certainly in his heart; -but there was something in the hour and the circumstances which -softened and solemnized without decreasing that joy. Adelaide turned -but one momentary glance on him, and it was almost sad, yet full of -love. There was anxiety in it--ay, and fear over and above the timid -emotion with which woman must always take that step which decides her -fate for happiness or unhappiness through life. She seemed less -surprised indeed at all that had taken place with the good priest than -her lover. The object for which Father George had sent for them did -not appear so unexpected to her as it did to him. It seemed as if she -had had a presentiment or a knowledge of what was to come; and -Ferdinand now understood the agitation which she had displayed just -before they entered Father George's cell. She went on, however, -without hesitation--ay, and without reluctance, and in a moment after -they stood together before the altar. The candles thereon were already -lighted, and a small gold ring lay upon the book. All seemed prepared -beforehand, but ere Father George commenced the ceremony, he bade -Ferdinand unlock the chapel door and leave it ajar. As soon as the -lover had returned to Adelaide's side, the words which were to bind -them together for weal or woe, through life, began. She answered -firmly, though in a low tone; and when the ring was at length on her -finger, Ferdinand heard, or thought he heard, a voice without murmur, -"It is done!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The fair girl marked it not; but, as if overcome by all the emotions -of that hour, stretched out her arms to her young husband, and leaned -upon his breast. She wept not, but she hid her eyes, saying in an -earnest but trembling tone, "Oh, dear Ferdinand, remember, remember -all you have promised."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will, love, I will," he answered. "You are my own, sweet bride; and -I will ever cherish you as the better part of my own life. Shall I now -lead her back, Father?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay," said the priest, "there is more yet to be done. The church's -part is over, and the bond irrevocable; but yet the laws of the land -require something more, and every form must be fulfilled. But all is -prepared. Come with me once more, and sign the contract. Then, after a -moment's rest, you may go back--Yes," he added, after some thought and -apparent hesitation, "you had better go back for this night at least. -But I will not trust you to stay there long. You are both too young, -too inexperienced, and too fond, to conceal from the eyes of others -the bond that is between you. Keep yourselves ready, however, and I -will arrange the means for your flight, and a safe asylum."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Could we not go at once," asked Ferdinand, as they followed to the -priest's chamber, "to the house of good Franz Creussen? He seems to -know much of my fate, and to love me well."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not to-night, not to-night," answered Father George; "you forget who -may be met on the way thither. Nay, return for this night, and be -cautious where you are. Ere to-morrow you shall hear more; but in the -mean time, in case of need, no arm will be found stronger to aid, no -heart more ready to serve you, than that of good Franz Creussen. You -may trust to him in any case, for he does love you well, and has -proved his love to you and yours, ere now." The contract was signed; -and, when all was complete, the priest opened the door, saying, "Keep -the key I have given you carefully, Ferdinand, it may serve you in -many ways; but to-morrow you shall either see or hear from me. And -now, farewell, my children, God's benison and the holy church's be -upon you!"</p> - -<p class="normal">With this blessing they departed; and Adelaide and Ferdinand returned -to the castle more slowly even than they had come thence. It often -happens in life that one emotion drowns another; and although they -could not but know that there were dangers of many kinds before them, -and though the gloomy scenes which they had so lately passed through -still lay on their road back, yet the rapturous joy of the moment, the -knowledge that they were united beyond the power of fate, as they -thought, to sever them, swallowed up apprehension and awe, and left -nought but one of those wild visions of happiness which occasionally -break upon the night of life.</p> - -<p class="normal">As on the occasion of Ferdinand's former visit, neither sights nor -sounds that could create alarm awaited them on their return. The -untrimmed lamp stood burning faintly where they had left it, and -passing quickly through the vaults, they soon reached the hall above. -There they lingered for some time, and then extinguishing the light, -found their way through the other passages, and up the stairs; but the -grey eye of morning was faintly opening on the world when the young -husband returned to his own chamber. Casting himself on his bed, he -strove to sleep; but for nearly an hour the wild emotions of his heart -kept him waking, and then for a short time he slept with heavy and -profound slumber. What it was that woke him he knew not, but he raised -himself with a sudden start, and looked round as if some one had -called. He saw that the sun had climbed higher than he had imagined, -and rising, he dressed himself hastily, but with care, then gazed for -a single instant in sweet thought out of the window, and breaking of -his reverie, suddenly turned to the door. He fancied he must be still -dreaming when he found that it would not yield to his hand. He shook -it vehemently, but it did not give way. He strove to burst it open, -but it resisted all his efforts.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is strange, indeed!" he said to himself, with his thoughts all -whirling and confused, in agitation, anger, and apprehension; for -where there is aught to be concealed, fear has always some share in -the sensations which any event unaccounted for produces. After a -moment's thought, however, he calmed himself, and walking to the -casement, looked down upon the wall below. The height was -considerable, and no sentinel was underneath at the moment; but the -measured tread of a heavy foot was heard round the angle of the tower; -and the young gentleman waited calmly till the man paced round, and -came under the spot where he stood. "Ho! Rudolph," he said, "some one, -in sport, I suppose, has locked my door; go in and bid them open it."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man obeyed, but returned in a minute or two after with another, -who looked up to the window, saying, as soon as he saw the young -gentleman's face, "It is that young fellow, Martin of Dillberg, Sir, -who has locked it; and he will not give up the keys declaring he has a -charge to make against you when our lord returns, and that he will -keep you there till he does."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand's heart beat a good deal with very mixed sensations, but he -answered instantly,--"Who commands in this castle when the Count and -his knights are away?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why you, Sir, certainly," answered Rudolph; "but I can't see how we -can help you, as the lock is on your side of the door, and we dare not -venture to lay hands on Count Frederick's man. Can you not contrive to -push back the bolt with your dagger?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have tried while you were away," answered Ferdinand. "Hie you to -the stable, Rudolph, bring me one of the strong ropes you will find -there, fix it on the end of your lance, and stretch the end up to me. -I will soon teach this Martin of Dillberg who has the gravest charge -to make against the other."</p> - -<p class="normal">The two men hastened to obey; and Ferdinand remained at the casement, -anxiously looking for their return. Ere they appeared, however, he -heard their voices speaking apparently to another person; and one of -the soldiers exclaimed aloud,--"Get you gone, Sir! You have no command -here. If you attempt to take hold of it I will break your pate; and if -Master Ferdinand, when he gets out, bids us shut you up for your -pains, we will do it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Rudolph! Herman!" shouted Ferdinand from the window, "make sure of -his person. He is a traitor and a knave!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The men did not hear him, but came on, carrying between them a heavy -coil of rope, the end of which was speedily stretched out upon the -point of the lance, to such a height that he could reach it. Then -fastening it rapidly to the iron bar which separated the casement into -two, Ferdinand took the rope between his hands and feet, and slid down -upon the platform.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now follow me, quick," he cried. "Where is this treacherous hound? By -Heaven! I have a mind to cleave his skull for him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He was just now at the steps going down to the court," replied the -man Herman; "but you had better not use him roughly, Sir. Shut him up -till our lord returns."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come on then, come on," cried Ferdinand, still hurrying forward; "we -shall lose our hold of him. He dare not stay and face me."</p> - -<p class="normal">It was as he thought, for by the time he reached the court, Martin of -Dillberg was mounted and passing the drawbridge. A sneering smile of -triumph and malice curled his lip as Ferdinand advanced under the -arch, and turning his horse for an instant, he exclaimed, "I go to -give news of you to your friends, good Sir. Pray where were you at -midnight? You, my good men, if you will follow my advice, will keep -that youth within the castle walls, for he is a traitor to his lord -and yours, as I will prove upon him at my return."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he wheeled his horse and spurred away; and Ferdinand, -with as light a look as he could assume, turned back into the castle. -The two men paused for a minute to converse together, and Ferdinand, -hurrying on, passed twice through the corridor with a heavy step, in -the hope that Bertha might hear him and come forth. She did not -appear, however, and then going out to the battlements, he passed by -the window where she usually sat and worked. She was there, and alone, -and making a sign towards the corridor, he returned thither without -delay. In a few minutes the gay girl joined him, but she instantly saw -from his look that something had gone amiss, and her warm cheek turned -somewhat pale in anticipation of his tidings.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hie you to Father George with all speed, Bertha," said Ferdinand; -"tell him that I fear that young hound, Martin of Dillberg, has -tracked me and your lady to the chapel last night, or else saw me come -forth from her chamber. Bid him hasten to help us, or we are lost, for -the young villain is gone to bear the news to the Count. Hark!--there -are trumpets!" and springing to the window, he looked out.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The Count, upon my life!" he exclaimed. "Away, Bertha, away!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I shall meet them!" exclaimed the girl, wildly; "and I shake so, -I am ready to drop."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here, take this key," cried Ferdinand; "it opens the small door out -of the great hall; then straight on along the passage, down the well -stairs, and through the vaults--straight as you can go. You cannot -miss your way. If you would save me, your lady, and yourself, you must -shake off all idle terrors. You have now full daylight, and it streams -into the vaults as clear as it does here. Leave the door unlocked -behind you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will go," said Bertha, "if all the ghosts in the church-yard were -there. But I must first warn my lady;" and away she sped.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXII.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">With blast of trumpet, and an air of triumph, the small force of the -Count of Ehrenstein marched up towards the gates of the castle. Each -individual soldier, long deprived of the means of winning any renown -in those "piping times of peace," felt an individual pride in having -fought and conquered; though, to say sooth, the two knights, and older -warriors were not very well contented that so small and inglorious a -part of the short siege of Eppenfeld had fallen to their share. The -youths might boast, they thought, and plume themselves upon so poor an -exploit, and some little honour might attach to those who had taken a -share in the first operations; but the days had been when the men of -Ehrenstein would not have remained inactive, watching to catch the -runaways, while the retainers of a friendly prince assailed the castle -itself, and underwent all the danger and fatigue of the assault. The -Count was brave and politic, they admitted, and policy has always -something in it which commands a sort of mysterious respect. We admire -what is successful, though we do not understand the principles upon -which success has been achieved; but yet, until discipline has -reached a high pitch, we do not conceive that there can be as much -glory in performing well a passive part, as in taking a share in -operations where peril and energetic action are the means of victory. -Thus many of the best soldiers in the Count's band were somewhat -discontented, and inclined to grumble, while he himself rode on in -silence, communicating to no one his feelings in regard to the result -of their undertaking, or to the plan upon which the enterprise had -been conducted. He had prisoners and treasure with him; and that, old -Seckendorf thought, would be enough to satisfy the Count; but the good -ritter himself was dissatisfied that he had not an opportunity of -striking a strong stroke, and longed for a more energetic and less -politic leader, although he owned that but little was to be done in -those days of art and negotiation, compared with the times when he -himself was young, and the sword decided all.</p> - -<p class="normal">Very different is the operation of every passion upon the individual -on whom it acts. As the relative forces of agent and object always -modify the effect of every cause, the character of the person who -feels changes entirely the result of the emotions which act upon him. -Some men are elated by success; some almost depressed in spirit. With -some men the heart seems to expand under the sunshine of fair fortune, -with some to contract; as particular flowers open in the shade, while -others spread their breasts abroad to the bright day. The Count of -Ehrenstein was one on whom the light seemed to have no enlarging -influence; and while his men, especially the younger, laughed and -talked, he rode on from Eppenfeld towards his own stronghold, in -gloomy silence and deep thought. Hardly one word proffered he to any -one by the way, and ever and anon he looked back to the body of -prisoners with the Baron at their head, who followed, strongly -guarded, in the rear of his troop. Then, and only then, what may be -called a feeble look came over his countenance--a look of doubt and -hesitation, as if he were trying some question with his own heart, -which he found it difficult to solve.</p> - -<p class="normal">At a short distance from the castle he was met by Martin of Dillberg, -who stopped and spoke to him for a few minutes in a low voice. Those -who were near saw an expression of sudden anger spread over the face -of their lord; his pale cheek flushed, his brow grew black as night, -his hands grasped the reins tight, and he replied in quick and hurried -tones. But after a time the young man rode on towards Eppenfeld, and -the troop, which had halted, recommenced its march. The fierce look of -the Count, however, speedily passed away; he turned his eyes again to -the Baron, and once more fell into gloomy thought.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the end of about half an hour, the cavalcade approached the gates -of Ehrenstein, and the Count passed over the drawbridge, and under the -arch of the gateway, where Ferdinand of Altenburg stood, with some of -the soldiery, to receive him. If, as I have said, the operations of -passions are very different upon different individuals, the fact was -never more strikingly displayed than in the case of Ferdinand. He knew -that a moment of great peril had arrived, he felt that the purchase of -a few hours of joy might now have to be paid in his blood; he feared -also for her he loved more than for himself; but the emotions of such -a situation called forth in his mind powers of which he had been -ignorant: and although at first he had been agitated and almost -bewildered, he now stood calm and collected, marking well the heavy -frown upon the Count's brow, and a look of sudden fierceness that came -into his face when their eyes first met, but prepared for whatever -might follow and ready to endure it firmly.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count of Ehrenstein dismounted slowly, and, without addressing a -word to his young follower, called Seckendorf and Mosbach to him, -giving them directions for lodging the prisoners securely, and -especially for placing the Baron of Eppenfeld in a chamber apart, in -one of the high towers. He then spoke a word or two in a low tone to -Karl von Mosbach, which seemed somewhat to surprise him; but the Count -repeated aloud and emphatically, "Not for one moment! You will soon -know the reason." Then turning to Ferdinand he said, "Has all gone -quietly in the castle?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, my good lord," replied the young gentleman, boldly. "That youth, -Martin of Dillberg, who came hither with Count Frederick, dared to -lock me in my chamber, and has since fled on horseback. I should have -pursued him and brought him back, but I had no horses saddled."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He will come back very soon," said the Count, in a marked tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I doubt it, my good lord," answered Ferdinand; "he knows that I have -a charge to bring against him which may cost his life; and which, if I -had been permitted to join you before Eppenfeld, I should have made -ere now."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed," said the Count musing; "it may be so."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, noble Sir, it is," replied the young gentleman, thinking the -Count's words were an answer to what he had said, rather than to what -was passing in his own mind; "I am ready to state the whole now, if -you have time; for as I see the Baron of Eppenfeld is a prisoner in -your hands, you have the means of testing the truth at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not now," rejoined the Count; "not now,--I have other matters to -think of. I will hear you in an hour."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, the Baron was led past, and the Lord of Ehrenstein -immediately followed. Ferdinand remained musing in the court, not -daring to seek any means of communicating with his young bride, and -doubtful what course to follow.</p> - -<p class="normal">As he thus stood, Seckendorf came up, and drawing him aside, demanded, -"What is this, Ferdinand? Mosbach, tells me he has orders not to suffer -you to pass the gates, or to take a step beyond the walls, the little -hall, or the tower in which you sleep. What have you been doing, you -graceless young dog? Is your affair with Bertha come to light?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand saw that his apprehensions were but too just, but he replied -calmly, "I know not what our lord suspects, Seckendorf: he mentioned -no charge against me to myself; but doubtless, whatever it is, it -springs from the malice of Martin of Dillberg, who is right well aware -that when this affair of the plunder of the Italian merchants is -inquired into, his treason to his lord will be apparent."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, ay; is it so?" cried Seckendorf. "I saw him stop the Count and -speak with him just now. What! I suppose he has been dealing with the -Baron, and was to have shared the booty?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Something like it, I believe," answered Ferdinand; "but as the Baron -is here, he can prove the truth of what he told me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So then the tale came from him," said Seckendorf; "I fear it is not -to be trusted."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was spoken in the presence of many of his people and of some of -ours," answered Ferdinand. "However, it is my duty to repeat what he -told me; and if he has not had some communication with Martin of -Dillberg, I see not how his tongue could be so glibe with his name, as -the youth has but lately returned with Count Frederick from the East."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Right, right," answered Seckendorf; "thou art as shrewd as a -blood-hound, Ferdinand. Doubtless the lad is afraid of thy tale, and -has brought some charge against thee to cover his own treachery."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It may be so,--it may not," answered Ferdinand. "However, Mosbach -must obey our lord's behest, so I will even take myself to the -battlements, which are within the limits you have mentioned."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he turned away, and walked up to the wall, gazing -anxiously towards Father George's cell, yet taking care to pace up and -down with as unconcerned an air as possible, that no eye watching him -from the main building or its manifold towers might see the anxious -expectation of his heart, or judge in what direction his thoughts -turned. It were vain to deny that he revolved, with eager rapid -emotions, all the circumstances of his fate, and strove to discover -some cause of hope; some clue to escape from the dangers that menaced -him on every side. At one time it seemed impossible that anything but -the most fatal result could ensue. He knew the Count too well to think -that he would be merciful--he knew the customs, if not the laws, of -the land too well, not to feel certain that his death would be deemed -only a reasonable atonement for the deed he had ventured to do. But -then, again, he asked himself, would the good priest who had been as a -father to him from his infancy, sanction, counsel, aid him in an -enterprise so perilous to all concerned in it, unless he had the most -positive assurance that he could guide the course he had pointed out -to a happy termination, and shield those from peril who, in following -the dictates of their own inclination, had also followed his advice -and exhortation. But still apprehension predominated; and though, at -each turn he took, his eyes were directed to the little chapel in the -wood, his hopes were destined to be disappointed. The door of the -priest's cell he could not see, but he caught several glimpses of the -road, and the second time he reached the point where he had the best -view, he saw a female figure--which he instantly concluded to be that -of Bertha--approach the chapel, and disappear behind the angle of the -building. It scarcely was obscured a moment ere it reappeared again, -and then was lost in the wood, "She has not found him," said Ferdinand -to himself; "he is absent--was ever anything so unfortunate?" and he -turned again upon the battlements lost in thought.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean while, the Count of Ehrenstein had followed close upon the -steps of those who led the Baron of Eppenfeld to the place of his -imprisonment; and the door was not yet fully bolted and barred when he -caused it to be opened again, and entered, directing the three -soldiers who had conveyed the captive thither to wait at the foot of -the stairs till he came out. Then, closing the door behind him, he -confronted the prisoner with a stern brow, and teeth close shut. The -Baron gave him back look for look; and a smile, slight but sarcastic, -curled his lip.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, Baron of Eppenfeld," said the Count; and then paused.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, Count of Ehrenstein," replied the Baron; and he also stopped in -the midst, for the other to go on.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You sent me a message, last night," said the Count; "and you were -fool enough, in your drunken sleepiness, not to take advantage of the -opportunity given you, and to suffer the hot-headed Count of Leiningen -to blow your gates open, when you might have escaped two hours -before."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very unlucky for you, Count," replied the Baron of Eppenfeld, in a -tone of provoking coolness. "You should have sent me some answer to my -message, and then I should have known how to act."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I could not; I had no time; I had no opportunity," answered the Count -of Ehrenstein. "All I could do, after I received that message, was to -withdraw my men to the east, and leave you room to escape with all -your treasure."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But why answered you not the first," asked the Baron; "the message -that I sent you by young Ferdinand of Altenburg?--I thought better of -it after a time, it is true, and judged that a short repose in -Eppenfeld would do him good; but when he got out, he must have told -you what I said, which was just the same thing; and instead of a -friendly reply or friendly comment, your first act was to march -against me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And you told Ferdinand of Altenburg?" said the Count, with a moody -look. "Pray, what was it you told him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The same, as near as may be," answered the Baron, "that I told the -other."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The other is dead," replied the Count; "and Ferdinand of Altenburg is -in peril. You shall judge, by the way in which I treat him, how I deal -with those who possess perilous secrets."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he opened the door, called one of the soldiers from the -bottom of the stairs, and, when he reached the room, bade him hasten -to Karl von Mosbach, and direct him to arrest Ferdinand of Altenburg, -and place him in confinement in the dark cell below the lesser hall. -"Now, Baron," he said, as soon as the man was gone, "What think you, -now?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That you are a hard-hearted villain," answered the Baron, "and ten -times worse than myself, bad as men call me. The youth served you well -and boldly; he risked his life, I can tell you, to do your bidding, -and this is the way you repay him. But I don't believe it; you will -not injure him for any words he has heard from me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If I live till noon to-morrow," answered the Count, in a cold, -deliberate tone, "he shall lose his head by the axe, upon those -battlements."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, there will be rare chopping," answered the Baron, with a laugh; -"for eight or nine of your men heard the message I sent--the words -were addressed to him, but they were spoken in the hearing of many."</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is no jesting matter, Baron," said the Count; "let me tell you -that your own life or death is the question. I shall give this youth -time to prepare, for he is my own sworn follower, and no one can see -or tamper with him. But your case is different; and all the time I can -allow you is one hour, for the questions between us must be despatched -before the return of those who are now destroying the wolf's den."</p> - -<p class="normal">Even this stern announcement seemed to have but a small effect upon -the captive. "All which that shows," he answered, with a shrug of the -shoulders, "is, that you take little time to deliberate upon murdering -a prisoner. You cannot frighten me, Count of Ehrenstein! I have -confronted death many a time a month, during twenty years or more; and -if in all this talking you have some object in view, you had better -speak it plainly at once, and not strive to reach it by threats."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Should I not be a fool to trust you living," asked the Count, "when -you can use such threats to me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, dear! no," answered his prisoner; "whatever I have done, I have -never broken an oath in my life; and I am quite ready to relieve you -from all fears, upon certain conditions."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" said the Count, "what may they be?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"First, that you will give me the means of escape," answered the -Baron.</p> - -<p class="normal">"At the present moment that is impossible," replied the Count; "but -to-night it may be done. What more?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Secondly, I must have some small sum of gold to get me together a -band in some distant country. If I were to go wandering about here -without my stone walls around me, I should soon be caught, and I have -no mind to find myself embroiled with the Imperial Court. I will be -content with a small amount; and the third condition is, that you deal -not harshly with that youth Ferdinand. On my life! I believe he -neither knows nor suspects anything from what I said. He seemed not to -heed it, as if he thought you to be too honest a man to do aught that -was wrong. He paid much more attention to what I said concerning Count -Frederick, and Martin of Dillberg--he marked that right well."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, and what was that?" asked the Count.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, I told him how that same Martin came to me, and, upon promise of -a share of the booty, warned me of the passage of those Italian -merchants. Faith! they came sooner than he expected; for he said, some -three weeks hence. But I kept a sharp watch, for fear of accidents, -and an unlucky watch it has turned out: for Count Frederick has got -all the money, and the castle to boot."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count mused for a few moments, with his arms crossed upon his -chest, and then replied, "Well, we shall see. Leave the youth to me; I -promise that he shall suffer nothing on your account. The money you -shall have, and freedom too, if you can give me such a pledge as I can -depend upon."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can give you nought else than my oath, Sir Count," answered the -Baron, stoutly, "You have taken all else from me. The pig has nothing -but the pig's skin."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, you shall swear," answered the other; "but yet I would fain -have some other bond than air."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Give me your dagger," said the Baron. "I will swear on the cross -thereof."</p> - -<p class="normal">But the Count of Ehrenstein was too wary to trust a weapon in the hand -of a foe. "No," he said, "I will have you swear on a holy relic I have -in the chapel, and by the mass.--But you can write, I think?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can make something which they tell me is my name," answered the -Baron of Eppenfeld, who, like an eager chapman, grew in impatience to -possess the object of his desire, as he who could grant it seemed to -hesitate.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well then, you shall sign a paper stating that all the aspersions of -my name which, in the heat of passion, you uttered to my retainer, -Ferdinand of Altenburg, are false and groundless," said the Count; -"that will satisfy me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How shall I know what the paper is?" asked the Baron; but immediately -afterwards he added, "Well, well, it matters not. You swear that I -shall have my liberty, and I will sign."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I swear it," answered the Count, kissing the cross of his dagger. -"Wait, and I will write the paper, which shall be read to you word by -word."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must needs wait when I cannot get away," replied the prisoner; and -when the Count had quitted the chamber, he murmured, "Accursed dog! I -will be a match for thee still."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXIII.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">THE Count of Ehrenstein retired to his chamber to write, passing the -soldiers, whom he had directed to wait at the bottom of the stairs, -without speaking to them: he did not signify to them that they might -retire; he did not tell them to take food or wine to the captive, -though the journey of the morning had been long and fatiguing, and -none of the party had broken bread since they marched from Eppenfeld. -But the good lord was a keen calculator, and he judged that the men -would watch better, the Baron prove more tractable, fasting than well -fed. He remained some time alone, writing and destroying what he had -written--for he was as difficult to please in his composition as a -young lover in his first letter to his mistress. Now he thought that -the terms he used were too plain and condemnatory of the Baron's own -conduct for him to sign them readily; now they were not fully -satisfactory to himself; and he strove so to express himself that the -words might imply more than they actually stated in his own favour. At -length, however, the work was completed, and calling some one from -without, he bade him seek Count Frederick's chaplain, for he was -anxious to give the whole proceeding an air of candour and -straightforwardness which it did not, in truth, possess.</p> - -<p class="normal">When the good priest appeared, he said, with an air which, for him who -assumed it, was unusually free and unembarrassed, "I wish you, good -Father, to carry this paper to the Baron of Eppenfeld, whom you will -find confined above, where one of my men will lead you, and to read to -him the contents. It seems that to my good follower, Ferdinand of -Altenburg, he used foul and calumnious expressions regarding me; and -that now, being sorry for having done so, he would fain retract them -and make amends. I have put down nearly his own words. If he will sign -them, well; if not, do not press him. Pray let him see that I am -indifferent to his exculpation or his charges, and hold as little -communication with him as possible till my noble friend Count -Frederick's return, as I am anxious that aught we may have to say to -this notorious culprit should be said by mutual understanding and -consent."</p> - -<p class="normal">The priest took the paper, and promised to observe the directions to -the letter; and, after having given him a conductor to the Baron's -prison, the Count paced up and down his chamber in gloomy expectation. -It seemed to him that his envoy was long; he would fain have gone to -listen to what passed between him and the captive; but he did not -dare; and at length he cast himself down upon a seat, and taking a -book from the shelf, affected to read. Scarcely had he done so, when -the chaplain returned; and, though the Count's keen eye fixed upon him -with an eager and inquiring glance, it could discover nothing in his -countenance but the air of a good honest man who had just transacted a -piece of ordinary business.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is the paper signed, noble Count," he said; "the poor man -expresses himself all hungered, and asks for meat and drink."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did he make any difficulty as to signing this?" asked the Count; -adding, "I hope you pressed him not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There was no need, my son," answered the priest, "he signed it at -once, and seemed wondrous meek considering all we have heard of him. -All he complained of was thirst and hunger; and, good sooth, he should -have food, seeing that he says he has not tasted aught since late last -night, and it is three of the clock even now."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Three!" exclaimed the Count; "is it three? How the time flies!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hasting on towards eternity," replied the priest; "it is well to -think of such things."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is," answered the Lord of Ehrenstein; "he shall have food. Thanks, -Father, for your pains; the poor man shall have food:--I had forgot -how rapidly time speeds away from us;--thanks."</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon as the chaplain was gone, he read the paper over again, and -marked well the scrawl which testified the Baron of Eppenfeld's -concurrence in the truth of its contents; and then he somewhat -regretted that he had not made them stronger in expression, -considering the facility with which it had been signed. But after -having carefully locked it in a casket, he turned his thoughts to -other subjects, only second in importance to that which had just been -discussed and settled.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, then, for this strange tale," he said; "I cannot believe it -true. He would not dare;--and yet the youth spoke boldly. It may be -malice after all: I never saw aught but such reverence as might become -one in his station to the daughter of his lord; nor, on her part, -aught but kindness--gentle, yet not familiar--such as she shows to -all. And yet it is strange she has not come forth to greet her father -on his return. She never failed before. Oh, if it be so, my vengeance -shall be long remembered in the land;--but no, it is impossible! I -will never believe it. This Martin of Dillberg is a proved traitor: -the Baron's words condemn him; and he has known that Ferdinand would -bring him to the question, and with the common art of half-fledged -villany, has taken the poor vantage ground of the first charge. But it -must be inquired into--must be refuted. I will call the youth before -me:--nay, I will see her first.--But I will not tax her with it: such -accusations often plant in the mind the first seeds of deeds to come. -I have known many a guiltless heart made guilty by being once -suspected."</p> - -<p class="normal">With these thoughts--for it is wonderful how often the same reflexions -present themselves to the pure and to the corrupt, only their effects -upon action are different--he went forth into the corridor, and opened -the door of his daughter's apartments. In the ante-chamber the girl -Theresa was sitting alone at her embroidery, and the Count asked, -"Where is your mistress? How is it she has not been to greet her -father on his return?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know not, my good lord," replied the girl, apparently embarrassed -by a certain degree of sternness in his tone. "I believe my lady -sleeps; I heard her say she had rested ill last night."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Go call her," said the Count. "Sleeps at midday! she must be ill. We -must have some physician."</p> - -<p class="normal">The maid did not venture to reply, but went in at once to the lady's -chamber; and the moment after Adelaide herself came forth. Her fair -face was as pale as death, but yet her air was firm, and she seemed to -the eye but little agitated. Her step was slow, however, and showed -none of the buoyant joys with which, in former times, she sprang to -meet her father.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How now, my child?" said the Count, as soon as he saw her; "what! -sleeping at this time of day? You must be ill, Adelaide."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I slept not, father," she answered at once; "I never sleep by day."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then why came you not, as usual, to meet me?" asked the Count. "In -what important task have you been busy that you could not give a -moment to greet your father on his return from strife?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In prayer," she answered, simply.</p> - -<p class="normal">"In prayer!" he repeated;--"why in prayer at this hour to-day?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"At this hour and day in every year I am in prayer," she answered; -"for it is the hour and day my mother left me."</p> - -<p class="normal">A deep shade fell upon her father's face: "True--I forgot," he said; -"the busy occupation of the last few hours has driven from my mind -things I am wont to remember: but now sit down beside me, my dear -child. This foolish girl, Theresa, says you rested ill."</p> - -<p class="normal">"She says true," answered Adelaide, taking the place to which her -father pointed; "I slept but little."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And where did you ramble in your waking thoughts?" asked the Count.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Far and wide," was her reply; but as she answered, she bent down her -head, the colour rose into her cheek, and there was a confession in -her whole air which made her father's heart beat quick and fiercely. -Nearly in vain he strove to master himself, and in a hurried, yet -bitter tone, he said: "Perchance, as far as the chapel in the wood." -His daughter remained silent. "And not without a companion," he added. -"Base, wretched girl, what have you done? Is this your maiden -modesty?--is this your purity and innocence of heart?--are these the -lessons that your mother taught you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Suddenly Adelaide raised her head, and though with a crimson cheek and -brow, she answered, "Yes! Nothing, my lord,--neither deep, true love, -nor human persuasion, nor girl-like folly, nor one idle dream of -fancy--would have made me do what I have done, had I not been sure -that duty--ay, duty even to you, required me to forget all other -things, the fears of my weak nature, the habits of my station, all the -regards of which I have been ever careful,--my very name and fame, if -it must be so, and do as I have done."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Duty to me!" exclaimed the Count, vehemently. "I thought you wise as -well as good. You are a fool, weak girl, and have suffered a -treacherous knave to impose upon you by some idle tale:--but he shall -dearly rue it. Time for prayer and shrift is all that he shall have -'twixt now and eternity."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is my husband," answered Adelaide; "and--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Go, make your widow's weeds then," cried her father; "for no husband -will you have after to-morrow's dawn."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yet, listen," she said, in an imploring tone; "condemn not before you -have heard. He is guiltless of having deceived me, if I have been -deceived: he told me no false tale, for all he said was that he loved -me--and that he does; he pleaded no excuse of duty--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who, then?" demanded her father; "who then, I say? Ah! I can guess -right well; that false priest, who has always been the bitterest enemy -of me and mine. Is it so, girl?--Answer, is it so?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"If you mean Father George," replied Adelaide, slowly, "you are right. -He bade me tell you the fact, if it became absolutely necessary to do -so; but oh, my father! you do him wrong. He is not an enemy to you and -yours--far, very far--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Out upon you, wretched girl!" exclaimed the Count, growing more and -more furious every moment. "I know him but too well; and for what he -has done I will have bitter retribution. I will lay his abbey in -smoking ruins for his sake; but first he shall see the results of his -dark intrigues on those he has attempted to force into high stations. -He shall see the blood of his beggar brother's child stain the axe, as -he has well deserved--ay, and he shall have notice that if he would -ever see his face again it must be ere to-morrow. He may come to -shrive him for the block, if he will; but I swear, by all I hold holy! -that daring traitor shall never see another sun set than that which -has this day arisen."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hold, hold, my father!" cried Adelaide; "first, for your daughter's -sake; for, did you do the act you threaten, the blow must fall on her, -not him alone. Be sure that she would not survive him long. Nay, look -not scornful, for it is too true; but, if not for her sake, for your -own, pause but three days, both to give your better spirit time to -act, and to allow yourself to judge with better knowledge. Oh, pause, -my father! Bring not on your head the weight of such a crime; think -what men will say of you--think how the eye of God will judge -you--think what torture your own heart will inflict--how memory will -ever show the spirit of the dead reproaching you, and calling you to -judgment--think what it will seem in your own eyes, when passion has -passed away, to know that you have murdered in your own stronghold -your daughter's husband, and, with the same blow, your own child too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Adelaide," said the Count, in a tone less vehement, but more stern, -"what I have sworn, I will do. You have chosen your own course, the -consequences be on your own head. It is you who slay him, not I; but -murder!--no, there shall be no murder. He shall be judged as he -deserves, this very night. We have laws and customs amongst us which -will touch his case--ay, and your own too, were it needful, but that I -am tender of you. However, keep your pleadings for yourself, for you -yet may have need of them. As to him, his fate is sealed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Be his and mine together," answered Adelaide, raising her head, and -gazing at her father mildly but firmly. "Let the same judgment pass on -me as on him. Spare not your own child, when she is as guilty, if -there be guilt, as he is. With him did I hope to live; with him I am -content to die. You cannot, and you shall not, separate us."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Girl, you will drive me mad!" exclaimed the Count. "Cannot separate -you! You shall soon see that. Never shall your eyes behold him again. -He dies at dawn to-morrow; and, in the mean time, hence to your -chamber. There, as a prisoner, shall you remain till all is over. What -further punishment I may inflict, you shall know in time; but think -not to escape. Doubtless these women are sharers in your crime, or, at -least, aiders of your disobedience;" and he turned a fierce glance on -the girl Theresa, who stood pale and trembling near the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh no, noble lord!" she exclaimed, casting herself at his knees; "I -never dreamt of such a thing--the lady knows right well."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It shall be inquired into," said the Count. "Hence to your chamber, -disobedient child; and I will put you under safer guard than this. But -delude yourself with no false hopes; you have seen the last of him -whom you call husband, for I will grant him not another hour beyond -the rise of sun to-morrow. Hark! there are Count Frederick's -trumpets--that suits well. He shall be judged at once. Away, I say! -Why linger you? To your chamber--to your chamber; but I will see that -it is secure."</p> - -<p class="normal">With a slow step Adelaide entered her own room, followed by her -father. There was before her a little desk for prayer, an open book, a -cross, and the picture of a lady very like herself, and, kneeling -down, she bent her head upon the book,--it might be to weep, it might -be to pray.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count's eye rested for an instant on the portrait, and then on his -child. His cheek grew very pale, and, with a hasty glance around the -room, he retired, securing the door behind him.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXIV.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand of Altenburg would have given much for a good horse, a few -words in Adelaide's ear, and a free passage over the drawbridge. They -were the only three wishes he would have formed, at that moment, if -any good fairy would have granted them, but none of those benignant -beings came to his help, and he saw that he must abide his fate, -whatever it might be. For a time he bent down his eyes in deep -despondency, after seeing what he conceived to be Bertha's figure turn -away from the chapel in the wood; but then, again, he gazed round him, -with an anxious glance, looking to the east and to the west, as if in -the vague hope of some help appearing.</p> - -<p class="normal">The hills which stretched in a wavy line from the old ruined castle -opposite, beyond the abbey in the valley, till they fell in with the -mountains that formed the basin of the Rhine, were clothed, as we have -seen, with wood; but yet every here and there the forest trees would -break away, and leave a patch of meadow or cultivated ground; and in -various other places the different roads that cut direct over the -summits of the hills, left a small spot vacant of trees, like the -entrance of a garden between two walls. Suddenly, at the point where -the road leading towards Eppenfeld crossed the higher ground, the eye -of the young gentleman saw something pass rapidly across, as if a band -of spearmen were proceeding at a quick pace along the road above. The -distance was more than two miles, and he could not be certain that he -was right in his conjecture; but at somewhat less than half a mile -distant from the spot where he had seen this passing object, and -nearer to the castle, a patch of vines, nestling into the bosom of the -sheltering wood, exposed the higher road again, and Ferdinand stopped -in his walk upon the battlements, and gazed for several minutes till -once more the head of a long line of horsemen appeared, with banners -and lances, and glittering arms, which caught and reflected a stray -gleam of sunshine, that poured through the clouds gathering overhead.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is Count Frederick," said the young gentleman to himself. "I am -glad of that, for he is kind and noble, and if this charge, whatever -it may be, rests alone upon the testimony of Martin of Dillberg, I may -shake that if I have a fair hearing."</p> - -<p class="normal">It is true, that when Ferdinand said, in speaking of the charge, -"whatever it may be," a voice from within told him quite plainly what -that charge really was; but ere the last horseman of the train had -passed across the aperture, he heard the sound of footfalls at the -other end of the battlement, and turning in that direction, perceived -old Karl von Mosbach and two of the soldiers advancing towards him. -Now the character of Mosbach, though there was a general resemblance -between all the old ritters of his day, differed considerably from -that of Seckendorf. He was less frank and free, and though, perhaps, -not so full of the active marauding spirit of his companion, was of a -more suspicious and less generous nature. Neither had he ever shown -that sort of warm and paternal friendliness for Ferdinand of Altenburg -which the other old knight had always displayed towards the youth whom -he had seen grow up from boyhood. These circumstances, and a knowledge -of the task of watching him, which the Count had assigned to Karl von -Mosbach, did not render his approach particularly agreeable to -Ferdinand, and the first word of the old knight showed that his errand -was as unpleasant as it well could be.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come, Master Ferdinand," he said, "you must end your walk. I have the -Count's orders to arrest you, and put you in the cell under the little -hall."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What for, Mosbach," asked Ferdinand, anxious to obtain any precise -information that he could get.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, that is no business of mine," replied the old ritter, "you will -soon hear from the Count himself, I dare say. My business is to obey -his orders, so come along."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand felt no disposition to resist, where he knew that resistance -would be in vain, and therefore, without further comment, he walked -slowly on with Mosbach, followed by the two soldiers, and fearing that -the next moment his arms might be taken from him. The old soldier, -however, did not seem to think of such a precaution, but contented -himself with leading him to the cell, shutting him in, and barring -and bolting the door. Ferdinand was now left, if not in utter -darkness--for there was one small loophole high up, which afforded -air and a slight glimmering of light to the interior--at least in such -a degree of obscurity, that for several minutes he could see none of -the objects around, and though with his arms crossed upon his chest, -and his teeth hard set, he strove vigorously to bear his fate with -firmness, if not tranquillity, the gloom of the place seemed to sink -into his heart, and overcome for the time all the strongly resisting -powers of youth. There was something in his present situation which -depressed him much more than the imprisonment he had so lately -undergone at Eppenfeld. There he knew right well, indeed, that a few -hours might terminate his existence, and now the worst that could -befall him was the same fate; but the difference was in the causes -which might lead to such an end. At Eppenfeld, he knew that if he -died, he died without reproach, in the bold execution of a duty; now, -if he fell, it was under a grave and heavy charge, from which, -notwithstanding all the assurances he had received from the priest, he -could not wholly exculpate himself even to his own heart. He felt that -passion had lent too ready an aid to the promises of others, and -although he had every confidence in the truth and honesty of him with -whom his early years had been spent, yet he could hardly bring himself -to believe that Father George had not both deluded and been deluded -himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">As he thus stood and mused, the sound of trumpets was borne from -without through the little loophole above, and a momentary gleam of -hope, he knew not why, came to cheer his heart. But the sounds of the -trumpet soon ceased, the trampling of horses was heard as they crossed -the drawbridge, and then many voices in the court-yard, first laughing -and talking loud, then growing fewer and fainter, till at length they -ceased; and no other sounds arose but the occasional call of one -servant to another, or the heavy tramp of a soldier's foot, as he -crossed the courts, or threaded the passages. Hope and expectation -died away again, and the captive sat himself down to meditate bitterly -over the passing away of all those bright dreams we have so lately -seen him indulging. Where was the joy of the night before? Where was -the sunshiny aspect of life that love, and youth, and imagination -afforded? Where was the glowing future, with its hopes and its -ambitions--ambitions, the fiery strength of which was all softened and -sweetened by tenderness and love? Where was the ecstasy of gratified -affection? Where all the splendid pageantry with which fancy decorates -the gratification of every desire to the eager early heart? All, all -had passed away--the bubble had burst, the vision had faded, and -nothing was left but dark despondency, akin to despair. He could have -wept, but then the stubborn heart of man, the touch of the sin which -hurled the powers from on high, the pride of hardy resistance, came to -his support, and he refrained, closing up the sources of his tears, -and strengthening himself in the hardness of resolute endurance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," he thought,--"I will give up such weak regrets; I will think no -more of things that only unman me; I will consider how I may best meet -this charge--what I am to do, what I am to say; and I can say much in -my defence. Who could resist such love as I have felt for her? Who -could help feeling that love who was with her as I have been? Then, -again, Father George, the guardian of my youth, whose counsel and -directions I have ever been taught to follow, he directed, he guided, -he counselled me to act as I have acted, even when I myself hesitated -and doubted. He authorized me, too, to lay the deed on him, and -promised to come forward and support it. The Count may indeed condemn -me, may put me to death, but still I shall die without a stain."</p> - -<p class="normal">The more he thus reasoned, however, the more Ferdinand felt that his -own case was a perilous one, that although some excuse might be found -for what he had done in the extenuating circumstances over which he -pondered, yet that excuse would be but little available to save him -from destruction. He knew the Count too well, not to be sure that some -victim he would have to assuage his wrath, and that, as against Father -George his hand would be powerless, protected as the priest would be -sure to be by the arm of the church, the whole weight of his -indignation would fall upon him. Thus he thought for some time; but -yet, though his considerations were eager and full of interest, they -were not sufficient to make the passing of the time seem quick. Hour -by hour went by, various sounds succeeded each other in the castle, -each marking some particular epoch in the passing of the day, to the -ear of one who, like Ferdinand of Altenburg, knew well the stated -periods of the daily life within; every moment he expected to be -called to judgment and to doom; but still the time fled and no summons -came, till darkness covered the face of the earth, and he heard the -sound of revelry above. Oh! how dissonant, how painful, how unlike it -had ever been before, was the merry voice and the gay laugh, and the -cheerful noise of the banquet! He thought it a cruelty in the Count to -place him there, a mute and sorrowful ear-witness of happy life, in -which he was no more to partake; and bending down his head, he covered -his eyes with his hands, but it must have been to shut out the sights -that fancy offered, for in the profound gloom around him no other -object was to be discerned.</p> - -<p class="normal">While he thus sat, he suddenly heard a sound, as if of the clanking of -an iron chain, and then a voice spoke, apparently close beside him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fear not, youth," it said; "be thy heart bold, be thy words true, be -thy faith pure, and fear not!" Ferdinand started up and listened, -almost fancying that his imagination had deceived him. The sounds had -seemed to come from the opposite side to that on which the door was -placed, and they were clear and distinct. It was a voice, too, that he -knew not. That of Father George he would have recognised anywhere; but -it was not his. The tones were deep and firm, like those of a man; and -yet there was a sad and solemn sound in them, which filled Ferdinand's -mind with doubt and awe.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who is it that speaks?" he said; and instantly the voice answered, -"It matters not. It is one who knows. Hast thou not seen enough to -make thee believe?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have," answered Ferdinand; "and I do."</p> - -<p class="normal">But the voice replied not again; and all was silent. The sounds above -had by this time changed their character. Laughter had ceased, the -merriment and the revel seemed over; and though voices were heard -speaking, the tones of some were stern and grave, the tones of another -low and apparently suppliant. For many minutes, Ferdinand's ear -listened eagerly, as the speakers continued; but then steps were heard -coming down the stairs, and through the sort of wide vestibule that -separated the cell in which he was confined from the great hall. An -instant after, the key was turned in the lock, the bolts were drawn -back, and the door opened.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXV.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">While such had been the fate of the lover, what was the situation of -Adelaide of Ehrenstein? She, too, had suffered; but not so deeply as -he had. There was something in her heart that supported her; a -conscious innocence of purpose; a degree of faith and trust which man -seldom, if ever, can attain; a readiness for the worst, whatever it -might be; a full assurance that she could not, and that she would not, -survive him whom she loved, if death were to be his fate; and a -fearlessness of death itself, very different from man's bold daring. -In her love there was, as is almost always the case in woman's first -early attachment, a great difference from the passion of her lover. It -was less of the earth than his; and though Ferdinand's was pure, and -true, and bright,--though he would willingly have sacrificed life, and -all that life can give, for her sake,--yet hers was purer and holier -still. He dreamt of long days of joy and happiness with her, in the -midst of the fair scenes and warm blessings of this earth. She might -have such visions also, but they were not so vivid, and they went -beyond. She thought of happiness eternal with the chosen of her -heart--of joy, and peace, and sweet communion with the spirit of her -husband, in that union which could know no change, and never see an -end. It might be hard to cast off all the tender bonds of mortal -affection, to give away the love and bliss we know even for the -promises of eternity. She might feel a longing to spend with him the -ordinary days of existence here, and to pass with him from the -affections of this earth, calmly and peacefully to the brighter fate -of the good beyond the tomb. But yet the thought--ever present, ever -distinct--that existence here is but a brief portion of an endless -being, and that, though the passage may be sharp and full of grief, it -leads to compensation and reward hereafter, was sweet and consolatory -to her in her sorrow, and gave her strength to endure in contemplation -all that might follow.</p> - -<p class="normal">She had time enough for thought, and for tears, and for prayer; for -during the whole evening, from the time that her father left her in -anger, till the shades of night crept over the sky, her solitude was -only interrupted twice. Once a heavy footfall came to the door, the -key was turned, and there was heard a sharp knock. On saying "Come -in," the form of a common soldier presented itself, bearing some -provisions, and having set his burden down upon the table, he retired -without a word, again locking the door behind him. The second time -another soldier came, affording admission for a few minutes to the -girl, Theresa, who could give her mistress no information, and who was -still drowned in tears of apprehension for herself. Adelaide -questioned her but little, for she had never much trusted her; and -there was an undefined feeling of suspicion in regard to the girl's -attachment to her, which she blamed herself for entertaining, yet -could not banish. All the girl knew was, that Count Frederick of -Leiningen had arrived, and that he and her lord were about to sit down -to supper in the smaller hall; that Ferdinand of Altenburg had been -arrested, and was confined in one of the dungeons; and that all in the -castle were busily talking over the events which had taken place. A -bright colour came into Adelaide's cheek as she heard that her own -conduct was the subject of discussion amongst her father's followers -and his guest's; and very mingled emotions brought tears into her -eyes; but she asked no further questions, and gave no orders, although -it was for the purpose of rendering her any ordinary service that the -girl had been admitted for a short time to her chamber. The soldier -who had remained without soon grew impatient, and called to Theresa to -come away; and Adelaide once more remained alone while the shadows of -gloomy thought came darkening over her mind as those of the evening -crept over the sky. She sat and read the holy book before her, pausing -every now and then to think, as long as there was any light left. But -at length all was darkness; for neither lamp nor taper was brought -her, and she passed the hours in meditation, in tears, and in -listening to the various sounds that stirred in the castle, till all -was silent. Though striving hard to banish painful images, yet fancy -would present to her eyes scenes which might be passing very near the -spot where she sat, without her knowing them or their results. She -pictured to herself the short, brief trial which was all that was -likely to be afforded to him she loved; she saw him standing before -his judges; she heard them pronounce sentence upon him; she beheld him -dragged back to his cell, only to await execution on the following -morning, and her heart sank--oh, how sorrowfully it sank!--at the -thought that she had no power to help him. Her eyes overflowed with -tears again, and, kneeling before the place where the crucifix stood, -she once more had recourse to prayer.</p> - -<p class="normal">All had seemed silent in the castle for near half an hour, but she was -still upon her knees, with her head bent down, when her father's -well-known step sounded in the neighbouring chamber; and the next -instant he entered with a light. Touched, perhaps, a little, he might -be, at the sight of his daughter's grief and desolation, but still his -frown was not relaxed, and no kindlier feelings shone upon his lip.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What! have they not brought thee a lamp?" he said, as she rose on his -entrance. "Take this, and go to bed and sleep, for thou must rise -betimes to-morrow. I came to tell thee thy fate--his is sealed. At -early dawn, under the guard of a party of men-at-arms thou goest to -Würtzburg; there to pass the days of thy widowhood in the convent of -the Black Nuns, and to learn, I trust, in penitence and prayer, the -duty and obedience of a daughter."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The days will be few," answered Adelaide, in an absent tone. "Can -nothing move you, my father?" she continued. "I ask you not to spare -me--I ask you to spare him, to spare yourself; for bitterly, till the -last hour of life, will you regret it if you injure him. Nay, hear, my -father, for I am as calm as you are--but wait a few hours, give no way -to hasty passion, see and hear him who counselled us in what we have -done, and judge not till you have heard."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have judged," answered the Count, turning away from her; "and -others have judged who are moved by no hasty passion. Give me no more -words, girl. His doom is fixed, I say. He shall not die till thou art -beyond the hills; but yet to-morrow's sun shall not be one hour old -before he pays with his head for the crime he has committed. No words, -no words;" and, leaving her the lamp he carried, he retired, and -closed the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">It is with difficulty that a kind and gentle heart realizes in -imagination acts of severity and harshness of which it is itself -incapable. Though Adelaide had feared, and trembled throughout the -day, with vague apprehensions of her father carrying his menaces into -effect; though she knew him to be stern and hard; though through life -fear had mingled with affection, yet she loved him too well to know -him thoroughly; for love has always a power of transfusing, as it -were, the life-blood of our own character into the object of our -affection; and when she was so gentle, she could not believe that he -was so cruel. The words he spoke, however, before he left her, the air -and manner in which they were uttered; the deep depression of her -mind, from long hours of grief and anxiety; the still and gloomy time -of night; all tended to give the vivid semblance of reality to the -deed which he announced to her. Could it be possible? she asked -herself. Could he really imbrue his hands in the blood of him she -loved--of one so kind, so good, so brave, so true? Should she never -see him more? Oh, no, no; it was too horrible to think of. It was -impossible. Her father would never do it.</p> - -<p class="normal">But as she thus stood on the same spot where he had left her, gazing -earnestly on the ground which she did not see, there was a light knock -at the door, and she started, but without replying. The knock was -repeated, and she said "Come in."</p> - -<p class="normal">A low, woman's voice, however, answered, "I cannot, lady, the door is -locked. Put down your ear to the keyhole."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mechanically she did as she was told, asking, "What is it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"They have condemned him, lady," said the voice. "I heard them say -myself, 'Worthy of death,' and then they hurried him away. I cannot -stay for fear some one should come," and a retreating step immediately -announced that the speaker had departed.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was true then--too true. He was judged--he was to die--to die for -love of her--to die for an act in which she had taken willing part; -which she had not only shared, but encouraged. And did her father -expect that she would survive him; that she would see the lover of her -youth, the husband of a night, thus perish for her sake? that she -would live on in the cold world that he had left? Did he expect her to -mingle in its gaieties, to take part in its pageants, to taste its -enjoyments, to laugh with the merry, and sing with the light of heart?</p> - -<p class="normal">"He knows me not," she said; "he knows me not. The blow that takes my -husband's life, takes mine also. It was unkindness, I do believe, that -brought my mother slowly to her grave, and this cruelty will be more -pitiful in bringing me speedily to mine."</p> - -<p class="normal">Casting herself into a seat, she remained in the same position for -more than two hours, with her head drooping forward, her beautiful -eyes partly closed, her hands clasped together and fallen upon her -knee. Not a motion was to be seen in that fair statue. One might have -supposed her sleeping or dead. Sleeping, oh, no; sleep was far, far -away. It seemed as if such relief would be banished for ever, and that -grief--aye waking--would never know cessation. Dead! She longed to be -so; but she knew that long suffering must be first. The lamp flickered -at first brightly, showing the exquisite features in their still -motionless repose, and the graceful line of each symmetrical limb, as -it fell in the dull tranquillity of profound grief. From time to time -the ray glittered on a tear--not the quick relief-drop of violent -emotion rushing plentiful and fast from the eyes like a summer shower -no; but the slow, quiet, trickling tear stealing over the cheek, and -pausing here and there, but still swelling over as the fresh supply is -wrung from the eye by the slow agony of the heart. They fell unheeded. -She knew not that she wept.</p> - -<p class="normal">Not a word escaped her, not a sound passed from her lips. There was no -sigh, no sob, no mark of bitter passion; but there she sat, silent and -motionless, absorbed in the contemplation of the dark reality ever -present to her mind.</p> - -<p class="normal">The light of the lamp waxed dim and smoky, as the heavy hours rolled -on, but Adelaide sat there still; and in the increasing gloom of the -chamber, where the faint rays were absorbed as soon as they touched -the dark oak wainscotting, her form, clothed in white garments, seemed -like that of a spectre, and all the other objects in the room like the -faint unreal phantasms of a confused dream. But who is that who -suddenly stands beside her?--An old man in a long grey robe, with -sandalled feet, a cowl over his head, and steps so noiseless, that in -the terrible apathy of despair she hears them not.</p> - -<p class="normal">She started up the next instant, gazing wildly at him, and thrusting -back the glossy masses of neglected curls from off her marble brow.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have come to save you, my dear child," said Father George. "Be -quick, cast something over you, and come with me."</p> - -<p class="normal">The fair girl threw her arms around his neck, and fell upon his bosom, -"Ferdinand! Ferdinand!" she murmured. "Save him, Father, save him. -Mind not me. I can bear my fate, whatever it is. Oh, save him, save -him! They have condemned him to death. If morning dawns, he is lost."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is safe, daughter," answered Father George. "Safe, and by this -time, I trust, far away. I have left him to those who will not, and -who cannot fail."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, but is it sure?" demanded Adelaide. "Did you see him go? My -father's words were dreadful. He would set a sure guard. He would -leave no chance. Are you sure that he is safe?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"As safe as I am," answered Father George, confidently. "The stones of -this castle would sooner fall, than one hair of his head under your -father's vengeance. Come, my child, come; make no more delay. It is -now near daybreak. Take but your mother's picture, and your veil to -wrap you in, and come away with speed."</p> - -<p class="normal">Joy was perhaps more overpowering than grief to Adelaide of -Ehrenstein. Her hands trembled, her limbs well nigh refused their -office; but yet she hurried her brief preparation as much as might be; -and then the monk took her by the hand, and blowing out the lamp, led -her on. The door of her chamber was open, though she had not heard it -unlocked. The antechamber without was vacant, and the last rays of the -sinking moon were streaming through the windows against the wall. -Everything in the castle was still as death, and in the wide corridor -all was vacant and silent, with the carved figures on the stone seats -grinning in the pale reflected light that poured from the sky through -the small panes. The feet of both the lady and her guide were -noiseless, for her step, like her heart, was lightened; and though she -trembled still, she hurried on down the wide staircase, and the -narrower flight of steps that led from the lesser hall to the old -stone vestibule near the greater hall. At the door of the latter, -Father George paused, and knocked thrice; and then whispering, "Fear -nothing," he opened the door, and led her in.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a light in the hall, streaming from a single lamp at the -farther end. It was faint and dim in the vast space; but Adelaide -started, drew back, and uttered a low cry of surprise, as she saw how -that hall was tenanted. Seated in the great chair of state, at the -end, was a tall and lordly looking man, clothed in arms from head to -heel, and down either side, ranged in long line, were other forms in -armour, some with their swords bare, and some with banners in their -hands, which seemed to her terrified eye the same as those which -usually hung from the vaulted roof above. Every man had his visor -down, and all was profoundly silent; but the stern array daunted the -poor girl's heart, and she turned an eager glance to the countenance -of her companion.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fear not," said Father George, in a low voice; "fear not, only come -on quickly," and supporting her shaking steps with his arm, he led her -on through that dark avenue towards the door at the farther end. None -spoke, none moved, as she passed along nearly to the close of the -line; but then the seated figure rose, and bowed his head without a -sound. Hurrying her on towards the door, the monk opened it, and led -her into the stone passage through which she had before passed. There -was a lamp burning on the floor; and quitting his hold of her arm, -Father George whispered, "Stay for me one moment," and then returned -into the hall.</p> - -<p class="normal">Turning a timid glance back, Adelaide saw him approach the chair of -state and speak for a few moments, in a low voice, to its mailed -occupant. He seemed to receive no answer; and then clasping his hands -together, in the attitude of vehement entreaty, the old man said -aloud, "I beseech, I adjure you! By all that is sacred! In the name of -Christ, forbear."</p> - -<p class="normal">The figure bowed its armed head: and, exclaiming, "Well," Father -George turned away, and hurried to her side again.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXVI.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">As soon as Father George had rejoined Adelaide of Ehrenstein, he -hurried her rapidly on through the passage, and down the well -staircase, towards the vaults; but in pushing back the door which -opened into the serfs' burial-place, a sharp gust of wind blew out the -lamp, and they were both left in utter darkness.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I cannot go back for a light," said the priest; "but hold by my gown; -and fear not, daughter."</p> - -<p class="normal">The sights she had seen, however, in that place, and all the awful -mementoes of mortality which it contained, recurred at once to the -mind of Adelaide, and a chilly shuddering sensation crept over her as -she followed Father George, holding his robe with her right hand, and -feeling the way with her left. Scarcely had they taken a step, -however, when a voice demanded aloud, "Who is it comes hither?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is I," answered the priest, without pausing; "give way to the -holy cross." No farther sounds succeeded, except the shriek of a -screech-owl, as it flitted past; but the moment after, the -out-stretched hand of Adelaide came upon something cold, and round, -and damp, which she instantly perceived to be a mouldering human -skull, and, drawing her arms suddenly back, the movement was succeeded -by a rattling noise, as if a pile of bones had fallen down, one -striking upon the other. Then came a loud laugh, and a whispering -through the arches, and the poor girl faltered on her way, and drew -back.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fear not, fear not," said Father George, hurrying her on again. "All -depends upon speed; let us lose no time. Where is that other door? It -should be here.--There is nothing but the wall. We must have got -astray amongst the arches?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide's heart sank with fear, and, leaning against the damp -stone-work of the vault, she supported herself with difficulty, while -the priest felt with his hand in order to discover which way the door -lay. Even he seemed puzzled and alarmed, as he proceeded slowly, -saying in broken, muttered sentences, "This is very unlucky. It must -be this way, surely. Keep close by me, daughter, and hold fast by my -robe. It is no jest to lose one's self here. Nay, this is the other -wall; we must have gone wrong again. Stay, I must have recourse to -other means--do not be alarmed." And, raising his voice, he added, in -a loud tone, "Let the chapel door be opened!"</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a pause, and then a slight rustling sound, and then the -creaking of a heavy door upon a rusty hinge, and the moment after, at -some distance from them on the left, a faint light, which would not -have deserved the name but from the more profound gloom of the vaults, -showed where the door was placed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, quick, quick, my child;" said Father George. "Lean upon my arm; -there is no need of terror. 'Tis but that I would fain avoid bringing -about hasty deeds that can never be recalled. Day must be coming fast, -by that light; but we shall yet have time." And, hurrying her through -the door into the crypt, he took his way onward toward the arch which -led out upon the side of the hill.</p> - -<p class="normal">No farther obstruction presented itself, no living object was seen, -and, hastening after her old guide, Adelaide soon felt the fresh -chilly air, which in most countries precedes the dawn of day, -breathing cold upon her cheek. Not a streak was yet to be seen in the -eastern sky, the light clouds above were untouched with the rays of -the coming sun, and the stars were seen peeping through them here and -there, but yet there was a silvery greyness mingling with the darkness -of the night, and showing plainly that morning was at hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, my child, all is safe, I trust," said the priest, as they issued -forth. "Take heart, take heart, for you must still walk down to the -chapel, I could not have the horses brought up here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is Ferdinand there?" asked Adelaide, anxiously.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay; he's farther than that by this time, I trust," answered -Father George; "but you shall soon join him, where there will be more -safety for both." Thus saying, he led her on; endeavouring to while -away the time, and cheer her spirits, with kindly words and -assurances; but Adelaide felt deeply depressed; and neither to feel -herself free from the threatened danger, nor to hear the monk's -assurances of her husband's safety, could rouse her from the dread and -apprehension that still hung upon her.</p> - -<p class="normal">When they were about half way down the hill, and the twilight had so -far increased that they could see the faint outline of the little -chapel from a point of the rock, Father George paused, and looked -down towards it with a somewhat anxious gaze. "It is very odd," he -muttered to himself; "they must have put them on the other side, I -suppose, to keep them out of sight;" and with a still quicker step he -hurried on down the hill, and soon, with his fair companion, reached -the chapel-door.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Go in, my child, and say an <i>Ave</i> and a <i>Paternoster</i>," he said, -"while I look for the horses round here;" and as he spoke he pulled -open the door of the chapel for the lady to go in. He then went quite -round the little building, and, returning to the door of the priest's -lodging-chamber, shook it, exclaiming, "Brother Geoffrey, brother -Geoffrey!" No answer was returned, and, entering the chapel, he said, -in a tone of some alarm, though he strove hard to conceal it, "The -horses have not come, my child, though they should have been here an -hour ago; but you will be quite safe here. Come with me into the cell. -You can take some refreshment there while I go and seek them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! do not leave me," cried Adelaide; "I shall die with fear, if I am -left alone."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no--not so," answered the priest; "I will show you in a -moment that you are quite safe;" and, drawing a key from under his -gown, he opened the door which led from the little chapel to the -lodging-chamber at its side, and entered with the lady.</p> - -<p class="normal">The cell was quite vacant; but on a shelf at one side stood a bottle -of wine and some provisions, which the priest soon placed before -Adelaide, and insisted upon her partaking thereof, though appetite she -had none. "Now, I will go and see for the horses," he said, as soon as -he had made her swallow a morsel, and taste the wine. "But first I -must show you--Hark! they are coming, I think. Did you not hear a -sound?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is from the other side--it is from the castle," cried Adelaide, -starting up in terror; and the monk instantly crossed to a little -lancet-shaped window which looked up the hill, saying, at the same -time, in a confident tone, "No fear if it be, my child."</p> - -<p class="normal">The next instant he turned round, nodded his head significantly, and -locked the door into the chapel; then advancing to the spot where his -pallet lay, with the crucifix at the head, he put his hand upon one of -the large blocks of stone which formed the wall of the building, and -pressed against it with no great effort. It instantly gave way, -however, rolling back, as a door, upon a strong perpendicular bar of -iron run through the angle of the block,<a name="div4Ref_02" href="#div4_02"><sup>[2]</sup></a> and disclosing the lower -steps of a little staircase, to which he motioned his fair companion. -"Quick; go in, my child," he said, in a low tone, while the horses' -feet came clattering down the hill; and with breathless haste Adelaide -darted forward, and ran some way up the steps. Father George followed, -pushed back the block of stone, and secured it with a bolt. "Go on, -daughter," he said; and, feeling her way up; for the stairs were quite -in darkness, she soon came to a door-way leading into the belfry over -the little chapel. Father George followed her, and reached the belfry -just as two armed horsemen checked their beasts at the door. One of -them, springing down, entered the chapel in haste, but returned -immediately, exclaiming aloud, "He's not in there; and that door's -locked."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Try the other," cried his companion; and the man who had dismounted -going up to the door of the cell, shook it as if he would have forced -it off its hinges, exclaiming aloud, "Father George, Father George!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The good priest smiled, but replied not, and the next moment the man -without, exclaiming, with an oath, "I will see if he's within or not," -dashed his gauntleted hand through the lower part of the window, which -was dim with dust and age, and, holding by the stone-work, looked into -the cell.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There's no one there," he said at length. "Where, in the fiend's -name, can the monk be?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Gone to the devil, I suppose," answered the other man, "who has got -more of his companions than they suspect at the abbey, I fancy. But, -at all events, we must go back as fast as may be. The Count won't -catch him in a hurry, I should think."</p> - -<p class="normal">While he had been speaking, his companion remounted, and they rode off -together towards the castle.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, my child, you will not be afraid to stay here," said the priest, -turning to Adelaide, as soon as the men were gone. "I will not be long -ere I am back, and no harm can happen to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I shall have less fear," replied the lady; "but yet I shall be -afraid. Day is breaking--how shall I ever escape? But look," she -continued, pointing towards the wood, as she stood with her face to -the arch over the bell, "there is a horse coming up that path, and -another behind."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Brother Geoffrey at last!" exclaimed Father George. "What can have -detained him so long?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But it is already day," answered Adelaide, in a desponding tone. "We -shall be pursued, and overtaken."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No fear, daughter; no fear," answered the good priest. "See you not -that you go well guarded?" and he pointed to a number of horsemen, -habited like the serving brothers of the abbey, who were now coming -out of the path which they had been following, into the small open -space before the chapel.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Alas!" said the lady; "what could these good men do against my -father's soldiers?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"There are more who watch for you than you know," said the priest; -"and if these were not enough, there are others on the road ready and -careful; but each of these, daughter, is equal at any time to a -man-at-arms, and not unpractised either. However, I will go with you -till you are beyond all danger, and you may be well assured that I -will do my best to avoid all risk of strife. Now, come with me, and -rely upon my counsels, nor doubt that they will guide you to safety at -last, though I warned you from the first that there were dangers and -sorrows to be encountered."</p> - -<p class="normal">While he had been speaking, Adelaide's eye had been resting upon the -brake through which the cavalcade was advancing; and at length, to her -joy and surprise, she saw a woman's figure appear amongst the rest. -Father George remarked the expression of satisfaction that passed over -her face; and though she spoke not, he replied to her thoughts, -saying, "It is your girl, Bertha: they have thrown a nun's gown over -her and a veil, which is not quite right, perhaps; but the end -justifies the means."</p> - -<p class="normal">The good priest's maxim is undoubtedly an immoral one, though Father -George, with some small faults, was a moral and conscientious man; but -that maxim was, and is, and probably ever will be, a favourite one -with the church to which he belonged. Leading Adelaide down, then, and -feeling quite secure in the numbers which now surrounded the chapel, -he threw open the door of his cell; and--while Bertha, with joy, -embraced her fair mistress, asked a thousand questions which there was -but little time to answer, and told how she had not dared to return to -the castle, but had found protection and shelter in the village beside -the Abbey--the monk conversed with a brother of the order who came -with the train, and heard the various impediments which had prevented -their appearance sooner. Their conversation was short, however, for -day had already dawned; and Adelaide was speedily mounted upon a -horse, which had been brought thither for her service, and covered -with the habit of a nun, which Bertha carried with her. Father -Geoffrey dismounted from the mule he rode to take the place of his -brother priest at the chapel; and Father George got into the saddle to -lead and direct the party.</p> - -<p class="normal">By narrow and circuitous paths through the wood, avoiding as far as -possible every spot where they could be seen from the walls of the -castle, the monk and his companions wound their way round to the -stream, taking care to approach it as if they were coming from the -side of the abbey. Adelaide, as they went along, conversed for some -time with Bertha, in an under tone, turning quickly every now and then -to gaze around, as the terrors, which she could not shake off, -recurred again and again to her mind. When they approached the river, -however, renewed apprehensions for him she loved seemed to take -possession of her, from something that Bertha had said; and -approaching closer to the side of the priest, she once more inquired, -in an eager and anxious tone, "Are you sure he is safe--quite sure?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"As sure as any one can be of anything in this life, daughter," -answered Father George; "of nothing here below can we be perfectly -certain. But I myself entertain no doubt."</p> - -<p class="normal">His words were not as satisfactory to Adelaide as perhaps he expected. -She would fain have had him repeat over and over again every assurance -he had given of Ferdinand's safety. The strongest, the most positive -terms, could hardly have reassured her; and the admission even of a -chance of the evil she dreaded, made her heart sink.</p> - -<p class="normal">As it was absolutely necessary to ford the river, Father George paused -at the edge of the meadow before they quitted the covering of the -wood, to direct those who followed to make as much speed as possible, -after they issued forth, to gain the shelter of the trees opposite. -But while he was still speaking, the sound of a trumpet was heard; -apparently proceeding from the gates of the castle above. It only -served, however, to hasten the good monk's movements; and putting his -mule into a quick pace, he led the way to a ford over the stream. The -trumpet sounded again, just as they reached the bank and came in full -view of the walls. Each naturally turned the head in the direction of -the castle; but there an unexpected sight presented itself. The -gateway beyond the drawbridge was crowded with men, the figures -distinct, though the faces could not be seen: but none seemed mounted -for pursuit, and all were apparently occupied with another and more -terrible act. On the drawbridge itself were seen three figures: one -kneeling, one in the long robes of a priest, standing at some -distance, and one, with long bare arms, uplifting a ponderous axe. -Just as Adelaide's eyes were turned in that direction, the axe fell -upon the neck of the kneeling figure, and a loud, wild shriek burst -from her lips. Bertha, who was close beside her, caught her firmly, or -she would have fallen headlong into the stream; but the lady's eyes -swam faintly for a moment, and then all was darkness and -unconsciousness.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXVII.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">We must now return to other personages in the castle of Ehrenstein; -for the ways of life are like the roads through a country, where, -though many of them may be close together, events of great importance -may be passing on each, totally unknown to those who are travelling -along the others, although very probably they may be deeply interested -in the occurrences which are taking place so near at hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">In gay and gallant array, with arms gleaming and trumpets sounding, -but at a much quicker pace than he had employed on his first visit to -the castle, Count Frederick of Leiningen swept up towards the -drawbridge, after having seen the stronghold of the Baron of Eppenfeld -irreparably destroyed. His face was somewhat graver than it had been -on the former occasion, and his followers remarked that he mused more -than was his wont. No one was by his side but his jester, and with him -he conversed from time to time; but their conversation seemed to those -who watched them, much more sad and serious than might be expected in -a brave soldier who had just added new laurels to his wreath, when -talking with so merry a companion. Behind them same several of the -Count's knights and attendants, and with them Martin of Dillberg, who -had encountered them by the way, and, after speaking a few words with -his lord, had ridden on to take his usual place in the train. The -young man did not seem at all at his ease, however, though nothing of -any very great moment had occurred, since his meeting with the Count, -to bring gloom upon his brow. His lord had heard what he had to say -without comment. He had neither smiled nor frowned upon him, but -simply told him to go and take his station. His companions in the -train had said little beyond what might give him an account of the -fall of Eppenfeld in answer to his questions. But there are slight -signs of manner more strongly indicative of the thoughts within than -even spoken words; and there was a dryness in the answers of the -soldiery, a keeping aloof from him, a want of free communication, -which instantly struck Martin of Dillberg as symptoms by no means -pleasant. What conclusions he drew thence does not much signify to -inquire; but after he had ridden along with the rest for about half a -mile, he reined in his horse, and was turning it towards the rear, -when one of the old knights exclaimed, "Holla, youth; keep your place. -Whither away so fast?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was but going to have a look at the prisoners," said Martin of -Dillberg.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There are no prisoners," answered the old knight. "They were all sent -on with the Count of Ehrenstein; so keep your rank."</p> - -<p class="normal">Martin of Dillberg was well aware that he was no great favourite -amongst his lord's retainers; but there was something marked about -their demeanour towards him, on the present occasion, which made him -feel that uneasiness which a guilty heart always experiences at the -prospect of discovery. He saw, too, that there were keen eyes upon -him, and consequently that there was no chance of escape; and thus he -was forced to ride on till they reached the gates of Ehrenstein, -meditating, with a quick and subtle wit, the plan of his future -conduct.</p> - -<p class="normal">The drawbridge was down; and old Karl von Mosbach, with a number of -men-at-arms, ready to receive Count Frederick, stood under the -gateway. But the Count of Ehrenstein was not himself present; and his -noble guest had dismounted from his horse, and given some orders to -his attendants, before the lord of the castle appeared. He apologised -in courteous terms, but with a somewhat absent air, on the plea of -having been engaged in important business; and his eye, while he was -speaking, ran over the followers of his friend, till it rested upon -Martin of Dillberg. Just as it did so, one of the soldiers of Count -Frederick took the youth by the arm, and whispered something in his -ear, which instantly made his face turn deadly pale. "What have I -done?" he said, aloud; looking to the Count of Ehrenstein. "I have but -given true and just information against a false traitor."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, my lord," said the Count, addressing his friend; "this good -youth has rendered me a service, I pray you, deal not harshly with -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He shall be dealt with, noble lord, according to his merits," replied -Count Frederick, laying his hand familiarly and good-humouredly upon -the other's shoulder, but not in the least betraying any wavering or -want of firmness in his tone. "Take him away; and do as I have -ordered. We will discuss his affairs more at leisure."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What a sweet thing it is," said the jester, "to hear the lamb -interceding for the wolf; the dove pleading for the kite. One would -think that the Lord of Ehrenstein had no value for golden ducats, that -he would deal so tenderly with him who well nigh prevented them from -reaching his hands; but tender-heartedness is the virtue of great men -of all classes; and Heaven, which made me a great fool, made me -tender-hearted also. Faith! I could weep to think of so pretty a lad -being whipped for just teaching other boys to steal the apples which -he had not wit or strength to steal himself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What means he, my good lord?" asked the Count of Ehrenstein, turning -from the jester to Count Frederick.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, Heaven save me from being a man of wit and letters!" cried the -jester; "they have ever so many meanings in their own heads, that they -can never tell what another man means."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He would say, Ehrenstein," answered Count Frederick, "that over that -youth, whom they are now leading away, hangs the heaviest of charges; -the last of many that have been brought against him. He has had full -warning thrice before, and thrice has he had forgiveness. Now he shall -have fair hearing, and speedy justice. But, for the present, let us -speak of gayer things. We will sit and hear his cause some quiet hour -this evening. Eppenfeld will hold no more plunderers. The great tower -is down; the walls blasted and riven; and if any wolves henceforth -inhabit it, they must walk on four legs, and wear hairy coats. How -goes it with your fair daughter? Faith! her summer smile has well nigh -warmed my wintry heart into a flame."</p> - -<p class="normal">"She is ill," replied the Count, abstractedly; and then, after a pause -of silent thought, he murmured to himself, "There may be malice in the -telling, yet truth in the tale; but what need I more? She has -confessed it herself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come, come, my noble friend," said Count Frederick, "do not grieve or -be apprehensive; this is some light illness of your fair daughter's; -it will soon pass away."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear not," answered the Count. "But come, we will to the hall, and -after supper we will have discussion of other things; for I, too, have -a cause to try, and a prisoner to judge; and, if I comprehend the -words of our friend here rightly, one axe may serve for two."</p> - -<p class="normal">These were grave and somewhat bitter words; and, in our days of -softness and refinement, we cannot well comprehend how such sanguinary -thoughts as they expressed could mingle with revelry and merriment; -but in those times the case was very different; and if men had -suffered themselves to be made sad by dark and cruel purposes, there -would have been few cheerful hours in life. We must remember that -bloodshed formed a part of their sports. War was not only a -profession, but an amusement. The sight of violent death, the habit of -encountering it themselves, and the little security that existed -against its occurrence at any moment, hardened them to inflict it -lightly upon others; and the Count of Ehrenstein strove to throw off -the gloom which anger and a thirst for vengeance, rather than awe at -his own sanguinary intentions, had brought upon him, and resumed a gay -and cheerful air, as he led Count Frederick to the lesser hall. He -spoke of supping speedily, and was giving orders to that effect; but -his guest exclaimed, "Nay, though I be hungry enough, in sooth, I must -first wash this gunpowder from my face and hands. I have a letter, -too, that I would fain write; so that, if it will not spoil your meal, -I would deny my hungry stomach for a couple of hours."</p> - -<p class="normal">It was arranged according to his wish; and, retiring to his -apartments, he remained there, less, it would seem, in writing than in -conversation. The jester and one of his knights accompanied him. His -chaplain was sent for, and then two more of his retainers; and though -at the close of the time he had stated, a messenger with a sealed -packet was sent off to Hardenberg, yet, sooth to say, the words that -the letter contained were but few.</p> - -<p class="normal">Not long after, he joined his entertainer in the hall, and found him -walking up and down between Mosbach and Seckendorf. The latter seemed -not well pleased with what was passing; and, as the door opened for -Count Frederick, and the old knight saw that his further conversation -with his lord would soon be interrupted, he replied hastily to -something which had gone before, "Well my lord, well, it is very true -what you say; but if you would take my advice, you would wait, and get -cool. You may think better of it yet. He is brave and stout-hearted, -cool and skilful, and will make as good a man-at-arms as ever lived. -He is noble, too; and, with God's blessing and good luck, there is no -telling what he may reach to."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has reached too high already," answered the Count, gloomily. "We -will make his arm shorter;" and he turned to welcome his guest to the -hall.</p> - -<p class="normal">The meal passed in the usual course; and though hungry men will be -silent till the first keen edge of appetite is taken off, yet, when -sad havoc had been made amongst the huge joints of meat, the capons, -the geese, the ducks, which loaded the table, laughter and merriment -soon began to spread around; the wine-cup circulated freely; the wine -was good, and every one seemed to vie with his fellow in doing justice -to it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Drink fast, drink fast," said the jester to an old knight who sat -near, for the sport is yet to come. "My good lords, I pray you tell -me," he continued, "what is the use of taking young men's heads off?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"To prevent them doing mischief with them, Herr von Narren," answered -Count Frederick.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A bad reason, uncle, a bad reason," answered the jester, "as I will -show you upon three propositions. First, because it is not true, as -you never think of taking their heads off till the mischief is done; -next, because, if you always used that precaution, you would not be -able to execute it, as, if all the young men's heads were taken off, -there would be no old ones to take them off; next, because it defeats -its own object, as, if you take their heads off, they are sure to fall -into corruption, and to fall into corruption, the church tells us, is -a grievous sin. Marry! we should have fine shaving of our shoulders if -the practice was generally carried out. I doubt me much, if it had -begun earlier, that most of those sitting here would be nine inches -shorter, and much less mischief would have been done in the world. I -can understand right well the taking of a cork out of a flask of wine, -or the head off a barrel of pickled herrings; but why men should chop -off the top story of the soul's house, as the cook does the root of a -turnip, I could never divine. Marry! it puzzles me, and I have never -yet heard the problem explained."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Faith! jester," said the Count of Ehrenstein, "it is not in every -barrel of pickled herrings that one finds such a fish as thou art."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Truly not," answered the other; "many things in life come from places -whence they are least expected."</p> - -<p class="normal">His words seemed to throw the Count into deep thought; but the jester, -who seemed, after the manner of his class, to have cast a random bolt -which had hit hard without his knowing or intending it, rambled on to -other subjects, jesting rather sharply with old Seckendorf, who seemed -in no humour to be pleased with merriment. In the mean time, Count -Frederick addressed some words to his host, which roused the other -from his reverie, and they spoke together for several minutes in low -tones, till at length the rising of the Count of Ehrenstein gave -notice that the banquet was over. The boards were speedily cleared, -the tables carried away, and while some sauntered forth to walk upon -the battlements, or in the court-yards, in the fresh night air, others -were preparing themselves for the usual pastimes of the castle hall. -As soon, however, as all vestiges of the meal had been removed, the -voice of the Count of Ehrenstein was heard, saying aloud, "Let all -men, but knights, leave the hall. This good lord and I have business -of moment to transact."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And jesters, I suppose you mean, noble lords; for they are well -fitted to take part in solemn business of high import. What is finer -food for them than to see grave men doing foolish things?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, my good friend," answered the Count sternly; "your company is -very pleasant, but just now your absence will be pleasanter than your -presence." The jester laughed, whispered what seemed a jest to Count -Frederick, and left the hall with the rest. While they were trooping -out, the Count of Ehrenstein spoke something quickly to his friend, -who answered immediately, "No, no, the other case first. See upon -whose evidence the charge rests before you judge him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I need no evidence but what I have," replied the Count; "but be it as -you will, Leiningen."</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Frederick nodded; and looking round the hall, in which six -gentlemen, bearing knightly rank, were left, besides Mosbach and -Seckendorf, and the two lords, he raised his voice, and addressed one -of his followers, saying, "Tell them to bring Martin of Dillberg -before us, and gather those men together whose names I gave you."</p> - -<p class="normal">The knights hastened to obey, the two noblemen seated themselves at -the higher end of the hall, the others ranged themselves around, and -all waited in gloomy silence for the events that were to follow.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">With a pale countenance and feeble limbs, Martin of Dillberg was -brought into the presence of the two lords. Imprisonment, even for the -short period which he had endured it, had taken from him all the bold -confidence which he usually displayed, and which had served not a -little, on many occasions, to deliver him from difficult and dangerous -circumstances, into which a perverse heart and a subtle and -unscrupulous mind had led him. No sooner did he appear, than a dark -and terrible change came over the face of Count Frederick of -Leiningen. His frank, open, and cheerful countenance had become grave -some minutes before; but now a heavy frown gathered on his brow, and a -stern, indignant quivering of the upper lip seemed to show that it was -with difficulty he refrained from heaping reproaches on the youth's -head, rather than treating him as a prisoner before his judge. The -young man's courage, already low, sank still farther when he saw the -expression of his lord's face, and he turned an eager and imploring -look to the Count of Ehrenstein, but found no comfort there.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Martin of Dillberg, stand forward," said Count Frederick, in a loud -tone, "and answer for yourself before the witnesses against you enter. -Did you, or did you not, linger behind at Saarbrück, on the pretence -that your horse had fallen with you, and injured you severely?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"And so he did, my noble lord," said the youth, taking a step forward, -with his heart somewhat lightened by the first question. "You yourself -saw that he fell, and hurt me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That he fell, I saw," answered the Count; "that he hurt you, depended -only upon your own testimony. But answer again, Whence went you from -Saarbrück?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"To Zweibrücken," answered Martin of Dillberg.</p> - -<p class="normal">"At what hour did you set out?" demanded his lord.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Early in the morning, my lord, the day after you went," replied the -young man; "and I reached Zweibrücken towards evening."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A long journey for a hurt man," said Count Frederick. "But let that -pass. I must have been in Zweibrücken when you were there; why did you -not join me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I knew not of your being there, noble lord," replied the youth. "I -lodged at the first little inn I found; and I have heard since you -were at the abbey."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good," answered the Count. "Whence did you go from Zweibrücken?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man paused and hesitated, but at length he answered, "To -Anweiler, my lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">"In one day?" asked Count Frederick,--"a longer journey still."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was stronger that day, Sir," answered Martin of Dillberg; "and bore -it well enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Doubtless," said Count Frederick, drily; "but why was it you went to -Anweiler at all, leaving the straight road hither?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because I was alone, my lord," answered the youth; "and knew not the -way over the hills. They told me, too, that it was dangerous, and I -thought the high road less so."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, when left you Anweiler?" inquired Count Frederick. "On the -following morning early," was the reply.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, had you made as much speed as before," replied his lord, "you -must have reached Ehrenstein before me, for I passed nearly two days -at Zweibrücken."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My horse cast a shoe," said Martin of Dillberg, with a varying -countenance; but then a light seemed suddenly to come over it, and he -added, "and I lost my way amongst the hills, and could not find it for -some time, so that I was obliged to return to Anweiler."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where you passed a second night," said Count Frederick. "An -excellently well told tale, but it will not serve your purpose, youth. -Bring in the witnesses.--First, the good host from Anweiler."</p> - -<p class="normal">Martin of Dillberg's countenance fell; and a great, burly, grey-haired -man was brought in, and placed by his side.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, mine host," said Count Frederick, "repeat what you told me about -this good youth, the questions that he asked you, and the way that he -took."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, my good lords and noble gentlemen," replied the innkeeper, after -looking a moment at Martin of Dillberg, as if to identify him, "there -was no great harm in what he said, or in what I said, either. We were -talking that night, when he first arrived, over a bottle of good -Zeller wine, about the state of the country round, and I said, we -should do very well, and be happy enough, and be well contented, for -we had a number of good lords round who were kind to us, if it were -not for that devil of a Baron of Eppenfeld, who robbed and pillaged -wherever he thought fit, and plundered all the merchants that -travelled our roads without a safe conduct from him; and then he -said,--that is to say, the youth here,--that he should like to see -this Baron of Eppenfeld much. I told him he had better not, for he -might get himself skinned alive; but he only laughed, and asked the -way to the castle--that's Eppenfeld, I mean."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That was, that I might keep out of the way of the Baron," exclaimed -Martin of Dillberg.</p> - -<p class="normal">"May be," said the host; "but the next morning, before I went away, I -left my woman to take the reckoning, and ambled off upon my ass to see -how the vines were looking on the hill; and as I was going along the -little path amongst the vineyards, just above the road, you know, -where you look to Creuzberg, who should I see trotting along below me, -at a quick pace, but this good youth here. I don't mean to say he was -doing any harm; I know nothing about that; but I know he turned off -the road, up the valley towards Eppenfeld. We call it Hell's Mouth, -for few go in there that come back again; and if they do, it's in the -form of devils."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was there I lost my way," cried Martin of Dillberg.</p> - -<p class="normal">"As to that, I know nothing," said the host; "but you came back that -night, and slept at my house, and you were not near so chatty as the -night before."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Enough, enough," said Count Frederick; "we have traced him on the -road to Eppenfeld; we shall soon find him at the castle gates, and -hear what he did there."</p> - -<p class="normal">Martin of Dillberg's two hands clasped together, straining tightly -upon each other, but he said nothing; and his lord, whose eye was -fixed upon him, at length, demanded, "Now, youth, will you confess -your crime?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have committed none," said the young man, sullenly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Bring in the man we took in the watch-tower," said Count Frederick; -and looking to the host, he added, "you may go for the present."</p> - -<p class="normal">A man was instantly brought in, of a fierce and sullen countenance, -who gazed round him as if in some alarm; but Count Frederick soon -calmed the sort of savage fear he seemed to feel, saying, "Do not be -afraid, no harm is intended you. Now answer truly, did you ever see -that youth before?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"To be sure, I have," answered the man; "I opened the gates for him, -some days ago, at Eppenfeld."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But did not! come to ask the way?" exclaimed Martin of Dillberg. "I -adjure you, tell the truth. It can do you no good to ruin me--did I -not ask the way?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"You asked the way to my lord's presence," answered the man gruffly; -"that's all you asked; and I showed it to you, as I always did single -travellers; for he knew best how to deal with them;" and the man ended -with a laugh.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is malice," said Martin of Dillberg; "it is malice."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We shall soon see where the malice lay," said Count Frederick. "My -good lord of Ehrenstein, there were men of yours who were present with -the youth, your squire, Ferdinand of Altenburg, who heard the message -which the Baron of Eppenfeld sent me back. They were freed from the -dungeon into which they were thrust, and I pray you let them be called -to bear witness of the Baron's words."</p> - -<p class="normal">The face of the Count of Ehrenstein seemed somewhat discomposed; but a -moment's thought reassured him. "Were it not better," he said, "to -bring down the Baron himself, as he is in the castle; he sent a rash -message to me also, which he has since formally retracted in writing. -Perhaps It may be the same in this case."</p> - -<p class="normal">Martin of Dillberg looked up with hope; but Count Frederick answered, -"No, my good friend, the Baron is my prisoner, and may be supposed to -act under my influence. Let Ferdinand of Altenburg be called, if you -will, he will speak the truth, and though it seems he is in disfavour -with yourself; yet that cannot affect this question."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is my enemy," exclaimed Martin of Dillberg. "He will say aught he -can to injure me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We will see if what he says accords with the evidence of others," -answered the Count of Leiningen. "He has had no means of knowing what -others say; I pray you have him brought, my lord. But, first, I would -have those men examined who were with him, touching the reply the -Baron sent to me."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count of Ehrenstein had been meditating somewhat deeply; but he -saw that if there were danger of suspicions being excited against him -by anything that Ferdinand might say, it was a danger that must be -encountered sooner or later, and that the recantation of the charge -which had been made by the Baron of Eppenfeld was his best security. -He would fain have avoided the risk, however, and a knowledge of -Ferdinand's character taught him to believe, that whatever peril he -might stand in himself, he would confine his replies entirely to the -questions addressed to him, which might not be the case with the -common soldiers. "Let Ferdinand of Altenburg be brought hither, -Mosbach," he said. "His evidence will be sufficient for that link in -the chain. But, my good lord, if we are to decide this cause, we must -have better proof than what the Baron of Eppenfeld said in a moment of -rage. That is quite valueless; he accused me, he accused you, he -brought charges against every one; but you have testimony at hand -which can be rendered available. I found you in the castle hall, after -the fall of Eppenfeld, putting questions to a man, named Fritz of -Sambach, I believe, who, I have been told, acted as this great -marauder's lieutenant. He brought the charge you are aiming to make -good against one of your train, though he could not tell his name. He -is here in a chamber hard by, let him be brought in, and see if he -identifies the prisoner; and, lest any one should suspect that he is -influenced by his captivity, give him his liberty before he speaks; -there can be no great object in detaining him, and we cannot be too -careful that every point be proved, in a case of this kind."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So be it," answered Count Frederick. "Let him be brought in, if he is -well enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, he can come," answered Seckendorf; "I saw him drink a stoup of -wine, an hour or two ago, which would hold any three flasks in the -cellar. I will bring him in a minute; but let the youth be seated -amongst the rest, that he may have fair play."</p> - -<p class="normal">"True, true," answered Count Frederick; "thank you, good knight, for -that honest thought.--Sit there, Martin of Dillberg. This time you -shall have plain justice to the full in every way. See that the guilt -on your countenance does not testify too plainly against you."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man seated himself as he was told, and in a few minutes -Fritz of Sambach was supported into the room by two stout soldiers of -the Count of Ehrenstein.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, lords, what is it you want?" said the plunderer, in his usual -ready tone. "Here I am, for you to do what you like with me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"First," said the Lord of Ehrenstein, "we have sent to announce to you -that you are free; there is no use of keeping the minor offenders when -their chief is in our hands."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, that's civil enough," answered Fritz; "but as you have taken -all I had in the world, and scarified my skin pretty handsomely, I -trust that, before you send me away, you will cure my wound, fill my -belly, and give me a broad piece or two in my purse."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay," said Count Frederick; "your wounds shall be cured, you -shall have food enough, too; but as for broad pieces you must get them -where you can; you will have none here. And now, being a free man, I -have one more question to ask you. You said, before many witnesses, -that you got the tidings which led you to plunder the Italian -merchants, from one of my people. It was a serious charge, and should -not have been advanced lightly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lightly!" cried Fritz; "I said it quite seriously; and it is as true -as that I stand here. He came and told the Baron all about their -route, and said they had great store of gold with them. He drove his -own bargain, too, and then he went and betrayed us, I suspect. But I -can tell him, if ever I get well of these cursed wounds, I will cut -his throat for him; though he does sit there amongst knights and -nobles, as if he had no hand in the affair for which we have all -suffered."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then do you see him present?" demanded Count Frederick. "If so, -advance and touch him."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man walked somewhat feebly forward, and laid his hand heavily on -Martin of Dillberg's shoulder, saying, at the same time, "Here he -sits. Ay, do not finger your dagger; I have strength enough left to -strangle twenty such as you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Enough," said Count Frederick, "enough. Let him go free, have his -wounds tended, and when they are better, let him pass the castle gates -at his will. Now, Martin of Dillberg, convicted traitor, stand forth -again. My good lord Count, and noble knights here present, you have -heard the evidence,--is any more required? Is this young man guilty of -base treason to his lord, of the blood that has been shed in this -affair, and of taking an active part in the plundering of honest -merchants, travelling hither upon the warrant of our safe conduct? -Pronounce if he guilty or not, and name the punishment which according -to our customs and laws, is awarded to such deeds."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is Guilty," said the Count of Ehrenstein; and each voice around -repeated the word "Guilty."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Death is the punishment," said old Seckendorf; "and well does he -deserve it. By the cord, if he be a boor; by the axe, if he be noble." -Each knight present pronounced the same judgment; and while the awful -sounds of his condemnation rang in his ear, Martin of Dillberg stood -silent and pale in the midst, with his eyes bent down upon the ground; -but when a momentary silence followed, he raised his face, and gazed -wildly at the Count of Ehrenstein, exclaiming, "Oh! my lord, will you -not save me to prove--"</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count turned from him, merely replying, "Traitor!" and then, -springing forward, the wretched youth cast himself at Count -Frederick's feet, crying, "Oh, my lord, my lord, spare me for my -father's sake!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thrice have I spared you for your father's sake," said Count -Frederick, sternly; "and I will spare you no more. I trusted that -mercy might win you to better things, and that kindness and confidence -might render you true and honest, but I have discovered nought in you -but malice, and falsehood, and treachery; and even for your father's -memory it is well that you should die. You have heard your doom. Go -hence, and prepare for death."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then I will do something worthy of it," cried the young man, starting -up quickly, drawing his dagger from the sheath, and aiming a blow at -Count Frederick's breast with the quickness of lightning. The Count, -however, had time to turn it aside, receiving merely a slight wound in -the arm; and the youth was immediately seized by two of the knights, -and thrown back upon the pavement. His dagger was then wrenched from -him, and he was dragged out of the hall, struggling fiercely with -those who held him, just as Ferdinand of Altenburg was brought in from -without.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXIX.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The manner and appearance of Ferdinand of Altenburg afforded a -striking and favourable contrast to those of Martin of Dillberg. There -were traces of mental suffering indeed, on his face, and there was -some anxiety in his eye, as it ran slowly round the circle of those -present; but there was nothing like fear. There was no trembling -apprehension; neither any appearance of stubbornness; but with an -upright head, a straightforward look, and a firm though serious -aspect, he confronted those who he knew were to be his judges, and him -who was about to be his accuser. The Count of Ehrenstein fixed his -eyes sternly upon him; but the young man's countenance did not fall; -and his lord remained for some moments in silence, as if considering -how he should proceed. At length, however, the Count addressed him -directly saying, "Young man, do you confess your crime against your -lord? To you I need not explain your fault. It is a high and grievous -one, as you are right well aware; and as I know you fearless, and -believe you to speak truth, I call upon you to answer, on your honour, -whether you be Guilty or Not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord the Count," replied Ferdinand, "I know no cause why a man -should be made to condemn himself; and, on the other hand, if I say -that I am not guilty, my saying so will not be considered by you or -any one as proof that I am innocent. That you have some charge against -me, I know, from your having imprisoned me for some hours; but what -that charge is, you have not told me; and it is but fair that I should -hear it. Nay, more; it is but just that you yourself should prove my -guilt, if I be guilty; that you should bring forward witnesses of any -act in which I have offended; that you should confront them with me, -me with them; ay, and let me bring forward witnesses, too, to prove my -innocence after I am told my crime. I do not know much of the law and -custom of the land; but I do know that this is justice."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is so," said Count Frederick, with a look of grave approbation.</p> - -<p class="normal">But the Count of Ehrenstein replied at once, "I have power of -executing justice in my own court, according to its customs; and I -have but called this noble lord and these good knights to aid me with -their counsel, that the law of the case may be sure. There are cases -in which the relations of social life are invaded, and of which, to -publish the whole facts to the wide world, would be doubling the -injury inflicted. I hold high justice in my own lands; and in my own -court will I judge you. But will merely put one simple question to -these knights here present; it is this: If the sworn retainer of a -baron of the land presumes, in secret and without lawful consent, to -marry the daughter of his lord, what is the punishment our customary -law awards for that offence?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord the Count," replied Ferdinand, "this, then, is the charge -against me; founded, I suppose, on the testimony of the base youth who -has just been taken hence; but as it seems you do not intend to try me -now, as to whether I have been guilty of that offence or not, I will -keep what I have to say on that score till another time, when I can -call witnesses to prove what has been my conduct, and why. As to your -question, however, I must say two words before it is answered. First, -I am not your vassal, nor your serf, nor what is called your customary -man. By birth, I am your peer, as I will prove when need be, and as -you well know. Then, as to the only oath I ever took, it was to serve -and defend you in your life and goods, at the peril of my head, and I -have done so. There is no other oath between us."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That statement makes a great difference, my good lord," said Count -Frederick; "and you must amend your question, I think, unless you can -claim this young gentleman <i>as your vassal</i>, in which case you can -only confiscate his fief; or <i>as your customary man</i> or serf, when his -head is forfeit."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I claim him as my customary man by oath, and by bread and wine," said -the Count of Ehrenstein, "as the laws of the good king Louis stated; -and by the same law it is provided that I shall execute justice upon -him in my court, if I have right of high justice in my own lands. The -question is, therefore, simply as I stated it,--What is the punishment -our customs award to a sworn retainer who marries his lord's daughter -without his consent?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Undoubtedly, death," replied Count Frederick; "but--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Take him away," exclaimed the Count of Ehrenstein, waving his hand to -the two soldiers who stood by Ferdinand of Altenburg; and the young -man was immediately removed from the hall.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must hear me, my good friend," said Count Frederick firmly; "by -the words I have uttered, I mean not in any degree to give sentence in -this case, or to pronounce upon it in any shape, and I am sure in thus -saying all here will go with me. If the oath he took be such as he has -stated, he is not your customary man, and you cannot touch his life. A -thousand things may affect the question, of which we have no proof, -even supposing that he has really done those things with which you -seem to charge him. What has been said, therefore, is not by any means -a sentence, but merely an answer to a question."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That question answered," said the Count of Ehrenstein, with a bitter -smile, "I will decide all the rest."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well," cried old Seckendorf, "I say with Count Frederick. I give -no judgment in the matter. We all know--at least, we've all been -told--that Ferdinand of Altenburg is of noble birth, and is even now -looking up for knighthood. Doubtless, my lord might have married his -daughter better; for the youth, I fancy, is as poor as any of us, but -that does not make his offence so heinous. As to the law, I know -little or nothing; but this I will say, that I do not think he has -done anything worthy of death."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count of Ehrenstein merely nodded his head in grave but meaning -silence; and then, turning to Count Frederick, without answering any -of the observations which had been made, he led the conversation to -other subjects, asking in a light way, whether he would like to visit -his prisoner, the Baron of Eppenfeld, that night, or would wait till -the following morning.</p> - -<p class="normal">With a somewhat mortified air, his friend replied, that they had had -sufficient of painful tasks for one evening, and turned away to speak -to some of his own retainers, while the Count of Ehrenstein whispered -a few words to old Karl von Mosbach.</p> - -<p class="normal">The expression of the old ritter's face, however, was somewhat -doubtful and hesitating. He had no great love for Ferdinand of -Altenburg, nor indeed for any other young man; for he was one of those -who, after having enjoyed selfishly and grossly the pleasures of -youth, look back upon them when they have passed away, with that sort -of covetous regret, which engenders jealousy of those who have -succeeded to joys they can no longer taste, regarding them much as the -rich miser regards his heir. He was a prudent and a cautious man, -however; and while Seckendorf was disinclined to countenance his -lord's vengeance, from better feelings and a more generous heart, -Mosbach, without pity or remorse, was restrained by doubts and -apprehensions. Whatever it was that the Count said to him, he replied, -shrugging his shoulders, "Well, my good lord, you know best; but they -are all against it, that's clear, and Count Frederick's a powerful -prince, likely to have weight in the Imperial Court."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count smiled with his usual bitter expression, and then replied, -in the same low tone to which their conversation had been restrained, -saying, "I will give way to his vengeance on his follower, Mosbach; -and in an hour after, he must give way to mine, for rightly -viewed--though he sees it not--his case is no better than my own. But -I tell you, Mosbach," he continued, grasping his arm, and shutting his -teeth close, "this youth shall not escape me, if I live and rule in -Ehrenstein for two days longer."</p> - -<p class="normal">While this conversation had been taking place between those who were -left in the hall, Ferdinand of Altenburg had been taken back to the -place of his confinement, by the two soldiers into whose charge he had -been given. They led him on civilly and kindly enough, for he was a -universal favourite in the castle; and one of the men could not -refrain from expressing his sorrow at the situation in which he was -placed. "Ah! Herr Ferdinand," he said, "this is a bad business! Would -to Heaven you had not been so rash! Love between a young gentleman and -lady is all well enough--it's a thing that can't be helped, and is -quite natural; but to marry her secretly was as mad a trick as ever I -heard."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is not proved, my good friend, that I did," replied Ferdinand. "I -have had no trial yet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, ay, but our lord's trials are short enough, and soon over," -answered the soldier. "You remember when he caught William Schæffer in -sparing the goods of the fat boor by Simburg, because he was in love -with his little daughter--was not he detected, tried, and hanged in -less than an hour and a quarter? It's a bad business, I say. However, -what we can do to comfort you we will, and will bring you some wine -and meat, for you must want it, unless your friends the ghosts have -fed you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear," answered Ferdinand, "they do not deal in such substantial -things, my friend. So I shall be glad of any provision you can bring -me. But do not you run any risks on my account. It is bad enough to be -in such an evil plight one's self, without bringing one's friends into -trouble.--But who is that standing at the door of the cell?"</p> - -<p class="normal">One of the men, who held a lamp, raised it to throw the light farther, -and at the same moment Count Frederick's jester came forward, -exclaiming in his usual tone, "Ah! friend rat, have you come back so -soon? I have been looking at your cage; it is wonderful what a number -of rat-traps there are in this world, and what sweet baits the devil -uses to lure men in--gold, and arms, and silk, and velvet, and pretty -women. Good faith! your bait was one that might well tempt a young rat -like you to nibble. I've seen a kingly crown before now in that same -devil's trap, and a goodly bait it proved, for it caught three before -it was carried off by a more cunning royal rat than the rest; but -after all, woman, woman is the most killing bait, and the most common; -for which reason our great enemy has strewed them about all over the -earth, as men scatter poison to destroy vermin. Poor youth, poor -youth!--to be trapped so early. I am sorry for your lack of wit."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Faith! Herr von Narren," answered Ferdinand, "I have neither wit, -will, nor spirit, at present to jest with you. I have to think of -death, I fancy, and to prepare for it as best I may."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, Heaven speed you!" said the jester; "and yet that's a sorry -wish, too. I should rather say, Heaven delay you! as you are not very -willing for the journey, I should think;" and as the young man passed -him to enter the cell, he added in a low voice, "I will go and tell -your friends the ghosts of your sad case; perhaps they may give you -spiritual help."</p> - -<p class="normal">These words, however, from the lips that spoke them, gave no comfort -to Ferdinand of Altenburg, and entering his cell, he asked one of the -soldiers to bring him any food that was to be allowed him as speedily -as possible, and if he could obtain permission to let him have a -light.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You shall have both, Herr Ferdinand, without permission," answered -the man. "I shall ask no questions about it; and as I have no orders, -either one way or the other, they can but blame me for a mistake."</p> - -<p class="normal">For about ten minutes, Ferdinand remained in darkness, after the -soldiers left him; but at length his friend reappeared, bringing him a -flask of wine, some meat, bread, and a lamp. "I must be quick," he -said, as he set them down; "for they've all parted in the hall in bad -humour, and old Mosbach is walking about like a she-wolf on a winter's -night."</p> - -<p class="normal">Before he touched the provisions, and as soon as the door was closed, -Ferdinand took the lamp, and examined the chamber carefully, to see -whence the voice he had heard could have proceeded. It was a large, -low-roofed room, directly underneath the lower hall, and supported by -two short, strong, stone pillars; but though he walked round every -side, looking keenly for any break or flaw in the walls, he could find -no doorway but that by which he had entered, no aperture but the -loophole which gave it light by day. The voice had seemed, however, -to come from the other side of the chamber, and there all was blank -stone. Could he have deceived himself? he inquired. Could the strange -sights and scenes he had lately witnessed have so far excited his -imagination, that a wild fancy could assume all the signs of reality? -"No, no," he thought, "that cannot be;" and seating himself on the -bench, which served for table also, he drank a cupful of the wine, and -ate a small portion of the food. As he did so, the same voice spoke -again, saying, "Eat and drink heartily: you will need it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who are you, and what are you?" exclaimed Ferdinand, starting up, and -gazing forward towards the corner from which the sounds seemed to -come. But at that moment some one tried the door, as if to ascertain -that it was fastened securely; and then he could hear voices speaking -without, in which he thought he recognised the tones of old Karl von -Mosbach and the Count of Ehrenstein.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXX.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">In about a quarter of an hour after Ferdinand of Altenburg had been -removed from the hall, Count Frederick of Leiningen retired to his own -chamber, and remained there in consultation with several of his -retainers, for some time. The Count of Ehrenstein did not continue -long in the hall after he was gone. None of the vassals or soldiery -ventured to return to the chamber they had been told to quit some time -before, and only Karl von Mosbach and old Seckendorf remained with -their lord. Towards the latter, however, the Count showed all those -signs of angry impatience which he was accustomed to display when any -one ventured to cross him in his purposes: not, indeed, by words, for -he spoke not to him; but by sidelong glances from under the heavy -brow, and every now and then a curled and quivering lip, when his eye -fell upon him. At length, after having walked once or twice up and -down the hall, he said, "Come with me, Mosbach," and led the way -towards the place of Ferdinand's confinement. He there shook the door, -to see that it was secure, and then, turning to his companion, he -said, "Ere noon to-morrow, Mosbach, he must die."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It will be better, then, my good lord," replied Mosbach, "to do it -quietly where he is, rather than to make a public execution of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps it may," answered the Count; "and I shall look to you to have -it done."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must have your order, my noble lord," said Mosbach; "your order -under your own hand. Then it shall be done speedily, and no one need -know but myself and those who do it, that he is not still living."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come to me in an hour," said the Count, "and we will consider how -this order is to be given--Whether it were better to call a court of -all the vassals, and judge him there, or by my right, as a high -justicer--they would condemn him, surely.--Well, we will see;--yet -there were times of old when good friends would to their lord a -service, and rid him of an offender without such formalities, well -knowing that he has the right, and secure not only of his protection, -but of his favour and rewards.--Ay, those old times are passing away, -I fear.--Well, come to me in an hour;" and wending his way up the -staircase, and through the corridor, he proceeded past the apartment -of Count Frederick of Leiningen to the small tower in which the Baron -of Eppenfeld was confined. Without pausing to think, for his mind was -already made up, and his plans arranged, he unlocked the door and went -in.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thousand Schweren!" exclaimed the Baron; "you are keeping me here a -long while, Herr Count. I hope you are not going to play me false. -Why, it must be past midnight, and I have had no supper."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Past midnight!" answered the Count, with a smile; "no, Baron, no; it -is not yet eleven, and all the people of the castle are up and -stirring. They must sleep sound first, before you can escape; but it -is of that I came to speak. Count Frederick is fierce against you, on -account of some message you sent him; and he vows he will not rest -satisfied till he has you before the Imperial Chamber."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, the dog!" exclaimed the Baron, laughing, "the message I sent was -all true. I only told him one of his people had put me like a hound on -the track of these merchants; and he did too--a brown-faced, smooth -spoken youth, who told me his name was Martin of Dillberg--but that -might be a lie. However, if you will keep your word, old Leiningen may -fret about the Imperial Chamber, if he will. I shall be far enough -before he can catch me--the Imperial Chamber, good lack! that would -never do. But how is my flight to be effected? Have you arranged -that?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It must be without my knowledge or connivance," answered the Count, -drily.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Baron gazed at him for a moment with renewed doubts; but then he -answered with a laugh, "Oh, I understand--you are not to be seen in -the matter, of course; but you can easily remove the men from the -bottom of the stairs, and leave the door unlocked."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nothing of the kind, I can assure you," replied the Count. "Count -Frederick's men have relieved mine from the guard, and the staircase -is impassable."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Baron swore a huge and heavy German oath, too long and ponderous -for any English page, and then, with a bewildered look, asked how he -was to get away.</p> - -<p class="normal">There is a bitter pleasure in giving pain, at least in some men; and -perhaps the Count would have prolonged his amusement, had he not been -somewhat in haste. "There lies your only chance, Baron," he said, -pointing to the window. "You are not too broad in the shoulders to get -out."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, you would have me break my neck!" exclaimed the captive; "it is -full twenty feet down, and I fall heavy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not if you have a rope to hold by, I suppose," was his companion's -reply. "Now, mark me, my good friend, for I have not much time to -spare:--an hour hence, if the castle be then quite quiet, you will -find a strong rope let down from the window above,--it has borne one -man's weight to-day, and may well bear yours. You have nought to do -but fix it tightly to the bar, and then let yourself down. You will -find no one on the battlement below; then take the traverse that leads -direct to the outer wall, where, if you turn someway to the right, you -will find steps that bring you to a little postern; the way thence is -level, but narrow, till you reach the angle of the castle chapel. -Avoid giddiness, or too much wine, for they are the only enemies you -are likely to meet by the way. When you reach the chapel, take the -first path down the hill, and there you will find a strong horse tied -to a tree, with saddle and bridle. He is a gift, so you may freely -take him. There is another gift, which use discreetly till you see -better times," and as he spoke he laid down a purse upon the table, -which seemed well loaded.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Baron, with his usual greedy haste, clutched it almost ere it had -quitted the Count's grasp, tossed it lightly up, and then caught it in -his hand, "Ay, that chinks," he cried; "and as for the rest, I shall -be ready at the hour. No fear of my brain turning giddy. I have been -accustomed to walk on slippery places. Nevertheless, I should like -some supper, for that is a very needful preparation to a long ride. -Let me have some better wine, too, than that last; it was as thin and -as sour as the juice of an unripe pippin. I don't believe the generous -grape had any share in its composition."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, you shall have supper, and good wine," answered the Count; "but -be moderate in your meal, and think of the future, my good friend. And -so this youth, Martin of Dillberg, came to you, and betrayed the good -Italian merchants?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, that he did," answered the Baron; "I should never have known -aught about it, but for him. Let us not talk, however; time wears, and -I am hungry. You shall find me grateful, Count, in the way that may -best serve you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I reckon on it," said the Count of Ehrenstein; "and so good night, my -friend."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he turned and left him, and gave orders at the foot of -the stairs that a frugal supper, and one bottle of good wine should be -taken to the captive.</p> - -<p class="normal">As the Count was walking onward towards his own apartments, he was met -by the chaplain of Count Frederick of Leiningen, who said, "They are -seeking for you, my noble lord. Count Frederick wishes to see you -before he retires to rest."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will go to him immediately," replied the Count; and with a slow and -thoughtful step he sought Count Frederick's room. He found him -surrounded by several of those who had been his companions in his -expedition in aid of the Knights of St. John, and as soon as the Count -of Ehrenstein appeared, his guest rose and advanced to meet him, -saying, "Ehrenstein, my noble friend, I wish to make it as clear as -possible, that we here present think no just cause has been shown for -putting to death your young follower, Ferdinand of Altenburg; and -without at all meddling with your right to judge your own people in -your own court, which I respect as much as I would my own, I do -beseech you not to proceed against him in any way without a fair and -open trial; for I do think you may find cause to alter your views -regarding him, and to pardon his offence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Would I could say the same," replied the Count, "in regard to your -follower, Martin of Dillberg; but sorry I am to say that the charge -against him is fully confirmed by our prisoner of Eppenfeld."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He dies at dawn to-morrow," answered Count Frederick; "that is -determined. But this case is very different, as you must see. That -youth has been thrice pardoned for very grievous offences, and it is -now clearly proved, to the satisfaction of every one, that he is a -base, deceitful traitor."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The cases are very different," answered the Count, in a thoughtful -and placable tone. "Well, I will consider of what you say. I am not a -harsh man, Heaven knows."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, have I your word," asked Count Frederick, "that for this night, -at least, he is quite safe?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Safety depends upon Heaven's will," answered the Count, with a smile; -"but as for my neither saying nor doing aught that can injure him, he -shall be safe, since you ask it; but, nevertheless, I beg you to -remember, that this shall not prevent me from proceeding against him -as I may think fit to-morrow, after I have considered, and spoken with -you farther."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is all I could desire," answered Count Frederick. "Very many -thanks, my friend, and peace be with you for the night."</p> - -<p class="normal">No sooner had the Count retired, than Count Frederick turned towards -the jester and the priest, who stood near, saying, "All is safe, then; -and we may make our minds easy for this night."</p> - -<p class="normal">"As safe as a chain of words can make it, uncle," answered the jester; -"but I never yet did find that the padlock of a promise was not easily -picked, even by the weakest straw of an excuse. Go to, uncle; you do -not know the unreclaimed hawk you are dealing with. Dungeons are very -safe places for transacting secret business, and I should not be very -much disposed to trust a callow doveling to the paternal care of a -vulture."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What can be done, then?" asked Count Frederick, "I fear for the fate -of both these poor things; and I have promised the lady, too, to -befriend her, in case of need."</p> - -<p class="normal">"As for the girl," replied the jester, "you have an easy task; send -down to good Father George of Altenburg, and tell him what has -happened; let him know that she is in danger and in durance, and as he -has got her into the scrape, let him get her out. As for the youth, -I'll tell you what can be done;" and bending down his head, he -whispered a word or two in Count Frederick's ear.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do as you like, do as you like," exclaimed that Prince; after -listening with an eager eye and a knitted brow. "I must have no share -in that, my good friend; for I feel myself somewhat bound by the words -we have lately spoken. I will do as you suggest, regarding the lady; -and, moreover, will watch well. You must act in the other case, as -seems best, without my knowledge."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So be it," answered the jester, laughing and quitting the room; and -Count Frederick immediately turned to one of the eldest of his -knights, saying, "Speed away down to the priest's, Gierheim; tell him -all the story; and say, not a moment is to be lost. Take care to pass -the gates quietly, however, and bid the warder-watch to let you in -without noise. Here is my signet, as a warrant to him, and you may add -a gold crown besides."</p> - -<p class="normal">The knight took the ring, and hurried away without reply; and the -chaplain then addressed his lord, inquiring "What is to be done with -this Baron of Eppenfeld, my noble lord? He little thought that I was -aught but the chaplain of the Count of Ehrenstein, or he would not -have told me all that had passed between them; and if, from any -farther conversation, he finds out that he was mistaken, they may -change their plans and foil you still."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All that is provided for already," answered Count Frederick; "he will -find his undertaking not so easy as he expects. We must force him to -recognise these papers, however; though I should judge that your word -would be sufficient."</p> - -<p class="normal">Some further conversation followed on the same subject; but we must -now turn to pursue the course of the nobleman who had quitted them a -short time before.</p> - -<p class="normal">As the Count of Ehrenstein turned away, after bidding his friend -adieu, he murmured to himself, "Now, may good luck send that old Karl -von Mosbach takes the hint I gave him; but whether he do or not, it -shall make no difference. If Frederick of Leiningen holds his -resolution, and puts his shrewd follower to death, the same axe shall -serve for Ferdinand of Altenburg."</p> - -<p class="normal">When he reached his chamber, however, he found old Karl von Mosbach -waiting for the promised order, and dismissing him with disappointed -petulance, the Count paused, and thought for several minutes, and then -visited his daughter's chamber, as we have seen. The interview moved -him more than he suffered to appear, though it did not shake his -resolution; and when he returned to his own chamber, he dismissed the -servants who were waiting, and sat down by the table to think. "What -is it," he said to himself, "that makes me feel thus regarding this -youth? What is it that has always made me feel so strangely? Loving -and hating him at the same time, trusting and doubting him, relying -upon him yet fearing him. It seems as if nature warned me to beware -lest he should work me some great evil. He has done so, and he shall -die; then he can do no more; but yet it is marvellous what a -reluctance I have to shed his blood--and yet I seem to thirst for it. -Am I growing weak and womanly, that my just purposes should thus shake -me? It shall be so no more. He dies, and then there is an end of -doubts. I will hie me to bed, and not think of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Undressing himself in haste, he extinguished the light, and cast -himself upon his bed; but his head had scarcely pressed the pillow, -when a voice repeated three times, "William of Ehrenstein!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is it? Who calls?" cried the Count, starting up.</p> - -<p class="normal">"One of the dead," answered the voice. "Know you not the tongue?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do," replied the Count. "It is amongst the sounds of my boyhood. -Why call you me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I summon you to judgment," answered the voice. "As you judge, so -shall you be judged. In the great hall of the castle, before my chair -of state, under the banners of our fathers, in the presence of knights -and holy men who shed their blood for the deliverance of Christ's -sepulchre, I call you to your judgment. See that you be there, or -sentence shall pass against you, which there is no power on the earth, -or under the earth, to revoke. Make your peace with Heaven; for you -have had your time, and it is passing away."</p> - -<p class="normal">The large drops of perspiration rolled from the forehead of the Count, -and grasping the side of the bed firmly with his hand, as if to give -him strength, he asked, "Who shall intercede for me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In Heaven, we have all an Intercessor," answered the voice; "on -earth, intercession is vain. Appear at the judgment-seat as you are -called, receive your doom, send for the priest, and prepare."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay, and hear me," cried the Count; but the voice made no -answer, and though he spoke again more than once, all remained silent.</p> - -<p class="normal">Tossing to and fro, the Count of Ehrenstein remained sleepless and -agitated throughout the night; at one time he thought he would rise -and obey the awful summons he had received, either alone or -accompanied by all whom he could gather together, but then again his -heart failed him, and the hour passed by without his regaining -sufficient courage to dare the result. At length, much to his relief, -the glimmering light of dawn began to shine through the window; and, -rising, he roused his attendants, and gazed moodily from the casement -for several minutes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let two men go down to the chapel in the wood," he said, "and bring -up the priest, Father George, instantly. He may be alarmed, so give -him every assurance of safety; but bring him by force, if he do not -come willingly. These monks," he continued, speaking to himself, as -the men went to obey his mandate, "how they encroach upon all their -neighbours! Here, not content with lording it over every one around, -they must needs plant this chapel within the very lands of Ehrenstein, -like an outpost thrown forward by an invading army into an enemy's -territory. What fools our ancestors must have been to suffer such -things! It is prescription makes them strong--ay, and our own weak -hearts.--Judgment! Could it be a dream? How often slumber will cheat -us with visions so like reality, that even when they are past, we know -not whether they be true or false--and yet I have not slept since."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord, one of the pages of Count Frederick has brought this note," -said a servant entering. The Count took it, cut the silk, and read; -then calling the boy in, he said, "Be it where Count Frederick -pleases; bid him use this castle as if it were his own. Why, boy, how -white thy cheek looks. Remember, none need fear but those who betray -their lord. So go and give my message to your master.--Ferdinand of -Altenburg," he continued, murmuring to himself, "your hour is coming!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXXI.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Had the Count of Ehrenstein and old Karl von Mosbach spoken loud and -distinctly when they visited the door of Ferdinand's prison, the -captive must have heard the pleasant arrangements making for his -transmission to another world; for although the door was stout and -thick, so as to be itself impervious to any sound, yet the pavement -had sunk away from it, or it had shrunk from the pavement, leaving a -vacancy of at least two fingers-breadths. But the nature of their -conversation was such as to subdue the voice, even though they thought -that no one could overhear them, and all that caught Ferdinand's ear -was the indistinct murmur of tones which were well known to him. They -soon ceased, however, and he heard the sound of slowly retreating -steps. After a pause, to insure that they were gone, he raised his -voice, and inquired, "Is any friend near?" No reply was made, and -though he repeated the question, all remained silent. "Well," he said -to himself, "if any one comes to my deliverance, he will doubtless -come at the right time; so I will even follow the counsel given, and -eat and drink heartily."</p> - -<p class="normal">The food, the wine and the hopes that had been given him, revived the -spirits of the young captive, and his meditations, instead of being -continued upon death, and the loss of all he loved and valued, were -carried vaguely over a thousand circumstances connected with his -situation; the strange events that so frequently interrupted the -ordinary course of proceedings in the castle, the special care which -seemed so mysteriously taken of himself, and the question of how and -when it was all to end. Adelaide, too,--he thought of Adelaide often -and deeply; and thrilling, painful apprehensions for her frequently -crossed his mind; for though he felt sure that her father's anger -would not fall so heavily upon her as upon him, yet he well knew that -she would not be suffered to escape without some severity, and he -thought that she was less able to bear it than he was. How would she -act? he asked himself--what would she say when questioned? But these -ideas raised up others, and they again mingled themselves with fresh -associations; Adelaide's conduct in the past puzzled him even more -than the question of what might be her conduct in the present or the -future. What was it, he asked himself, which had caused so great and -sudden a change in her demeanour, which had rendered her--so timid and -apprehensive in the first dawning of their love--in a moment willing, -eager, anxious to unite her fate with his, although no objection -seemed removed, no danger lessened. It seemed very strange; and, -connected with the sights he had seen, and the words he had heard from -beings whose nature and properties were all a matter of doubt and -mystery, it led to still deeper thoughts and inquiries--why should -spirits thus be suffered to revisit the earth where their mortal -career was terminated?--Or rather, was it not very natural, that if -judgment did not immediately follow dissolution, and the souls of the -dead were not instantly transferred to endless joy or endless sorrow, -they should be allowed to haunt the scenes in which the sins of earth -had been perpetrated by the wicked, or the virtues of the good had -been exercised, and to witness, mingle with, and take part in the -results of their own past deeds, as they affected living men?</p> - -<p class="normal">Such thoughts whiled away some hours, and, in the mean time, the -sounds in the castle ceased one by one, till all became still; but -sleep had no power over Ferdinand's eyes, and he was still sitting -rapt in meditation, with his back leaning against the stone wall, and -his arms crossed upon his chest, when the same voice was heard again, -making him instantly start up, "Ferdinand," said the voice, "it is -time to go."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But how can I go?" he demanded, "and where?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hast thou not a key?" demanded the voice; "the master key of all -these doors."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay," answered Ferdinand; "I was obliged to give it to another to -bear tidings of our fate to the priest."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Take up the lamp, then," said the voice, "and approach the stone in -the middle of the pavement."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man did as he was bidden, and beheld a large slab of -slate-coloured stone, with some old characters engraved upon it. They -were,</p> - -<p class="center">Beneath this stone lieth the body of<br> -Wolfgang of Spires,<br> -Who built this Castle from the Foundation to the third story of<br> -the Keep,<br> -In the space of three-and-twenty years,<br> -At the end of which he was called to a Mansion not built with hands.<br> -He rests in peace.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand gazed upon it, holding down the lamp, and reading the rude -letters with some difficulty, mentally inquiring, as he did so, "What -has this to do with me?" But suddenly he thought some wind had made -the flame of the lamp quiver, for the letters seemed to shake, and -then the stone began to rise slowly in two-thirds of its length, the -other third being depressed, as it moved upon a pivot. When at its -full height, the wooden rounds of a ladder were perceived, and the -voice said, "Descend."</p> - -<p class="normal">A doubt flashed through Ferdinand's mind, as to whether this might not -be a means of consigning him to a nameless and unrecorded death; but -it instantly passed away, as all the events which had lately taken -place crowded upon his memory; and, without showing any hesitation, he -began the descent, carrying the lamp in his hand. As his foot touched -the ground below, he gazed around, but all was vacant, and he found -himself in a vault or monumental chapel, against the east side of -which was placed a stone altar, with mouldering ornaments upon it, and -to the north a marble tomb, surmounted by a recumbent figure in a -burgomaster's gown, with the face turned to the altar, and the right -hand holding a mason's rule. Opposite to the altar, on the west, was -an old wooden door, partly open, and in a state of complete decay, and -as the young gentleman turned towards it, the voice said, "Go -forward." Still obeying implicitly, Ferdinand of Altenburg advanced, -and pushed open the door. Before him was a long passage, and as he -walked on he heard a sound of clanging steps, as of men walking over a -stone pavement, in arms. There was no door to the right or left, and -nothing to be seen but cold walls of rudely finished masonry, except -as he approached the end, where a flight of stone steps led upwards as -if into the castle again. Ferdinand hesitated for a moment at the -foot; but then, as he had been told to advance, and there was no other -way of doing so, he proceeded till he had numbered thirty steps, and -then found himself at the end of a narrow passage, leading to the -right. On his left hand was a row of small fretted arches, filled up -with stone; but on the other hand, where the same decoration appeared, -though the lower part was closed with masonry, the fanciful stonework -in the point of each lancet arch was left clear, as if to give air to -the sort of gallery in which he stood, and a faint light shone through -the apertures from some chamber beyond. There was a sound, too, rose -up, as if he was raised high above a chamber full of people, and -approaching one of the arches, with natural curiosity, the young -fugitive looked through. He then discovered that he was in a gallery -at the end of the great old hall, but raised as high as the capitals -of the columns, and below him a strange sight presented itself by the -faint light which reigned in the hall. It was somewhat different from -that which Adelaide beheld; for, although there was the same range of -armed forms, stretching in line towards the great door at the other -end, the chair of state was vacant. No motion was observed in the -figures underneath: each stood in his arms like a statue, but yet -there was a faint murmur, as if they spoke in low tones, and Ferdinand -felt tempted almost to pause, and see what would follow. Ere he had -done more than take one hasty glance around, however, a voice, -seemingly close to his ear, said, "Enough! go on;" and obeying, as he -had done before, he advanced along the gallery to the end. There was -no possibility of mistaking his way; for, with a sharp turn to the -left, the passage led to the top of another flight of stone steps, -down which he went, and suddenly found himself close to the top of the -well-staircase, which he had descended more than once before, but on -the other side. His way was now clear before him, and entering the -serfs' burial-vault, he hurried on, pausing not for a moment to look -at the various ghastly objects it contained, till he reached the door -leading to the crypt of the chapel. Going in amongst the wilderness of -tombs and monuments within, he hastened forward towards the door at -the other end, when a voice suddenly called to him,</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ferdinand of Altenburg! gay bridegroom, whither away?" and a long, -wild laugh rang through the pillared arches.</p> - -<p class="normal">He started, and turned round. The sounds appeared to come from an old -tomb, on which stood a figure in chain mail. The right hand extended, -seemed pointing at him with its truncheon; and Ferdinand fancied that -he saw it move; but though he advanced straight towards it, the figure -remained still and motionless, and on touching it he felt that it was -marble. Raising the lamp above his head, till the flame almost touched -the arch that sprang from the short pillar at his side, he gazed -forward into the gloom, but nothing was apparent; and the instant -after, the flame was suddenly blown out, and he felt himself grasped -by a strong hand on either side. He strove to free himself by a quick, -sharp struggle; but in vain. The two hands held him as if the fingers -had been of iron, and a superstitious awe, mingling with apprehensions -of a more tangible character, perhaps, deprived him of some of his -strength and agility. Not a word was spoken while he strove in that -vice-like grasp, and even when he desisted from his useless efforts, -all remained dull and silent. There seemed something very terrible to -his fancy in being thus fixed, as it were by a power that he could not -resist, to one spot, in darkness and in silence. "In the name of -Heaven!" he exclaimed at length, "who are you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"We are friendly," said a voice, "to you, and to your race, if we are -foes to all other earthly beings. Come, and come quietly, for we will -guide you to safety;" and at the same time the hands that held him -forced him gently forward, through parts of the vault he had never -explored. They went slowly, and well they might, for everything before -them was as dark as the pit of Acheron; but yet they seemed never to -miss their way, and as they advanced, no halt, no stumble took place; -no sound of footfall upon the damp earth of the vault was heard. It -seemed long to Ferdinand, though perhaps the time that passed was -really not more than five minutes, ere a sudden pause was made, and a -door opened, for he could feel the free air blow upon his face, and a -pale light began to shine under the arches where he stood. The next -instant something like a large mantle was thrown over him, and the -hood drawn far down upon his face; and then, still held fast by either -arm, he was hurried forth into the open air. He thought he crossed a -court of the castle, and then went through another arched passage, but -he could not see, for the night was dark, and the cowl over his eyes. -But then, again, he felt that he was passing through the wood, for the -ground became rough and uneven, the wind rattled through the leaves, -and every now and then a thin branch struck him as he passed. Rapidly -down the side of the hill they went upon their way; and now he could -hear the footfall of several others besides his own; at length, -however, they stopped again, and a wild neigh just before them gave -notice that a horse was near at hand. The voice which had before -spoken, now said aloud, "Watch, and be ready," and all remained silent -for nearly half an hour.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand would fain have questioned those who held him in their -hands, but at the first word he uttered, the voice replied, in a low, -stern tone, "Peace, if you would live!" In two or three minutes after, -a rapid step was heard; and then a voice, which seemed to Ferdinand -very like the rough and inharmonious tongue of the Baron of Eppenfeld, -exclaimed, "Ay, here's the horse. He has kept his word;" but then, -again, the voice which had spoken before, exclaimed, "Now!" There was -a sound of rushing through the trees, a brief struggle, a few -smothered curses, and then the words. "Bring him along!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXXII.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Feeble and faint, with every nerve unstrung, with a swimming brain and -a heavy heart, Adelaide of Ehrenstein unclosed her eyes after a long -period of unconsciousness--how long she knew not; but it was evident -that a considerable time most have passed since thought had left her, -for she was now in a small room with an arched, stone roof, and a long -pointed window. The sole furniture it contained was a stool, a table -bearing a crucifix and a closed book, and the pallet on which she lay. -"Where am I?" she asked herself, as her mind still wandered wildly -over the past; and for an instant the impression was--for it cannot be -called thought--that her father had executed his threat, and sent her -to the convent of the Black Nuns at Würtzburg. The next moment, -however, recollection returned more fully; her flight from the castle; -her stay at the chapel; her journey through the wood, and then the -horrible sight she had witnessed on the drawbridge, all flashed back -upon memory, and with a sudden cry, as if of pain, she pressed her -hand upon her eyes.</p> - -<p class="normal">But Adelaide was not alone, as she thought; and the movement that she -made showed those who watched her that she had revived. Instantly the -well-known voice of Father George, low, but still rich and clear, said -in her ear, "You are deluding yourself, my child. You are grieving -without cause. He is safe and well, and far from the castle."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide started up and gazed at him with a look of doubt, mingled -with reproach. Then shaking her head sadly, she burst into tears, -saying, "I saw--I saw but too well! Why try to deceive me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay daughter, I deceive you not," answered the monk, gravely; "'tis -you deceive yourself. Think you that in these dark times the axe can -fall on none other but him you love?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is true, indeed, lady," said the voice of Bertha. "It was not your -husband. It was Martin of Dillberg whom they put to death. I spoke -with the lay brother, myself, who brought the news."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide clasped her hands together, and looked up to heaven, with -reviving hope in her eyes; but then, bending down her head again, she -murmured to herself, "Now, God forgive me that I should so rejoice. -There must have been some who loved him, too,--some whose heart must -now be as cold as mine was."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But few," answered the monk; "he perished well meriting his fate; and -we may reasonably rejoice that the innocent have not suffered instead -of the guilty. Take heart, then, my child; for this illness of yours -has already been most unfortunate, and I must go to see how the evil -can be remedied."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But is it true, is it quite true, Father?" said Adelaide, grasping -his robe. "He is safe? Oh, assure me of it! Nay, look not stern, good -Father: you know not how the heart that loves as mine does doubts all -things, fears all things, when there is danger to the beloved. I know -what you would say; but when I am ready to suspect the evidence of my -own senses, to think that my eyes and ears deceive me, you must have -some compassion if I hardly can believe the voice of one whom I -venerate."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I make allowance, my child," said the monk; "but yet you do not -reason well of these things. Were he not safe, mine would be another -task--to console and to mourn with you. Be assured, then. But now I -must leave you; for though he is safe, you are not; and for your -safety I must provide."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he left her; and Adelaide again and again questioned -Bertha as to the fate of Ferdinand; but all she could learn amounted -only to the fact, that a lay brother of the abbey had gone up to -Ehrenstein at dawn, and, mingling with the people of the castle, had -witnessed the execution of Martin of Dillberg on the drawbridge. But -of all sceptics, fear is the foremost; and no sooner was the lady -fully convinced that the terrible scene she had witnessed had no -reference to her young husband, than immediately new terrors arose. -She fancied that the execution of Ferdinand might merely be delayed; -that her father might still perpetrate the deed he had threatened; -that at that very moment the axe might be raised to smite him; and she -argued that her own flight would only render the Count more -relentless, if her lover remained behind. As she thus lay and thought, -the sound of horses' feet was heard as they passed at no great -distance from the cell; and, raising her head, she listened, saying to -herself, "Perhaps they bring tidings;" but the sounds continued some -time, till at length they died away from the ear. It was evident that -horses were going away from, not arriving at, the abbey. Then came the -blast of a trumpet from no great distance, and then the murmur of -voices, rising and falling, as of people speaking vehemently, but far -off. Shortly after, Father George returned, and with him the abbot, -whom Adelaide had often seen before; a man far advanced in life, but -of a stiff, unbending character.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How goes it with you, now, daughter?" he said, seating himself on the -stool by her side. "I have ordered some poor refreshments to be -brought you, that you may pursue your journey with more strength; for -I am sorry to say, this is no place of sure refuge. Your father's men -are seeking you already, and have been even now at the gates. Luckily, -the brother who answered them knew not that you were here, and -answered, boldly, 'No;'--for which he shall have absolution; but if it -be discovered that you are within our walls, we cannot refuse to give -you up at the Count's demand; for, although his haughty tone and -frequent offences against the church would well warrant, in my poor -judgment, a flat refusal, yet we poor monks meet with but little -protection; and though we can, thank God! defend ourselves well, in -case of need, yet the Imperial Court would leave us with our loss and -damage, if we gave even a pretext for his aggression. I have heard his -haughty words, however, and his threats to burn the abbey; but he may -find its stones a stumbling-block at which he may fall down."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am ready to go, when you will, Father," answered Adelaide, turning -an anxious look to Father George; "but, if they be searching for me, -whither shall I fly?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must wait a while, my child," replied the monk, to whom the words -were really addressed, rather than to the abbot. "It is not the -intention of our noble and reverend father, the lord abbot here, to -send you forth without all care for your security."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But my good brother," said the abbot, "if these men return--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"We will send them back with such answer as they deserve," replied the -monk, boldly; for although mild and gentle in manner, and by no means -so stern and rigid as the abbot himself, there was, in times of need -and danger, that vigour and decision in the character of Father George -which always rules weaker and less resolute spirits. At first the -abbot, transferred from a distant priory, had struggled against his -influence; and Father George had made no apparent effort to maintain -it; but gradually, as years went by, and difficulties arose, the -superior yielded more and more to one who seemed to yield most to him, -and the rule of the mere monk over the present abbot had become more -powerful than it had even been with Abbot Waldimer.</p> - -<p class="normal">After a brief discussion, then, it was agreed that Adelaide should -remain at the abbey till the hour of noon, when, with a shrewd -calculation of the habits of his countrymen, Father George judged that -lord and vassal, leader and follower, would all have occupations of a -kind they would not willingly forego. He thought it possible, indeed, -that ere that hour a new demand might be made at their gate for the -restoration of the lady to her father's power; but he was firm in his -purposes, and doubted not so to use his authority in the abbey, as to -commit the abbot to a decided refusal, from which, once given, he knew -that the old man would not depart. Neither did he fear the result; for -the sound of horses' feet, which Adelaide had heard, was but an -indication of preparations for defence against any sudden attack; and -vassals and retainers were already flocking in to support, with the -strong hand, if need should be, a community who were generally kind -and gentle masters, if not always safe and pleasant neighbours.</p> - -<p class="normal">Father George also reckoned a good deal upon the presence of Count -Frederick of Leiningen at Ehrenstein, to ward off any immediate -collision between the castle and the abbey; for that prince, though -vigorous and decided in character, was reverential towards the church, -and adverse at all times to violence; and, in the mean time, he took -care that from one of those high towers of the building which I have -alluded to, as being seen over the trees from the walls of Ehrenstein, -a keen watch should be kept upon the gate of the castle, that the -brethren might not be attacked unawares. Every five minutes, a -messenger came down from the clear-sighted watcher, to convey to the -abbot and Father George tidings of all that had been observed; and -thus party after party of the followers of the Count of Ehrenstein -were reported to have returned to the stronghold, and passed the -drawbridge. Father George mused and calculated, till at length, -turning suddenly to the abbot, as the clock struck ten, he said, -"There cannot now be more than five of the men of Ehrenstein out. It -were as well the lady departed at once; she can be guarded by those -who brought her hither, and, passing unseen through the woods, will -run no risk."</p> - -<p class="normal">The abbot rubbed his hands slowly together, and then replied, "Good, -good, brother George. Far from me to refuse the lady Adelaide refuge -and hospitality; but when once she is beyond the walls, then let her -proud father bluster if he dare."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He will not be proud long, my noble lord," replied Father George; -"there are reverses preparing for him which he dreams not of; and you -may ere long see him humbled at your feet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then will I receive him with fatherly tenderness," said the old man, -with a look full of, what he thought, humility; but in which, perhaps, -a clearer eye might have discovered no small pride.</p> - -<p class="normal">Father George, however, hastened at once to the cell in what was -called the stranger's lodging, where Adelaide still remained with -Bertha; but on his entrance the maid held up her hand, and pointed to -her mistress, who, worn out with watching, anxiety, and grief, had -fallen into a brief slumber. The beautiful eyes were closed; the long, -dark, silken lashes rested on the fair cheek, now pale with weariness -and sleep; the head fell gracefully on the shoulder, and the soft -white hand dropped over the side of the pallet. It was a lovely sight -to look upon; and for a moment Father George paused and gazed, with -strange emotions. His heart, bound down by icy chains to a solitary, -unsocial life, yearned for a child like that. He asked himself--Is it -well for man in any class, in any state, to live alone?--to cut -himself off from the dearest, the highest, the holiest associations of -our nature? Can he really feel and sympathize with human beings?--Can -he retain all the perceptions, all the qualities of the heart and mind -with which God first endowed him,--to bless, and to be blessed? Is he, -in the full sense of the word, a man, if he do not exercise the -rights, and fulfil, the duties, of a man? To extinguish hope and -aspiration, to shut out love and affection, to separate ourselves from -joy and sorrow, to put an icy bar between our bosoms and every warm -feeling of our fellows--is this to live?</p> - -<p class="normal">But the monk indulged hardly a moment in such thoughts. They flashed -across his mind, and were then banished; but they made him feel that -he was not a monk at heart; and gently and tenderly waking Adelaide -from her slumber, he told her what was proposed for her; adding, in a -low tone, "I have certain intelligence that he is safe and free."</p> - -<p class="normal">The lady rose joyfully, exclaiming, "And shall I see him, then, soon?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"His steps and thine, my child, are bent in the same path," answered -Father George; "and doubtless he will reach the bourne before thee. -But we must be speedy. Are you refreshed and ready?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Quite, quite," answered Adelaide; "those tidings, dear Father, are -better than wine or medicine either. Let us go. Come, Bertha, are you -ready?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, good lack!" answered the gay girl, who had now somewhat recovered -her light spirits; "I am ready, since it must be so; but yet I am -never very willing to exchange a comfortable roof and good provision -for the bare road and acorn woods; but let us go, lady. It is as well -to do what is to be done with a good grace; and now Heaven send us -forty miles from Ehrenstein ere night."</p> - -<p class="normal">No long time was required to prepare; the nuns' gowns, which had been -laid aside on account of the warmth of the day, were soon resumed; the -hoods were drawn over the heads of the two girls, and, led by Father -George, they went out into the great court of the abbey, where not -only a number of monks were walking to and fro, some in meditation, -some in busy talk, but a large party of armed men also were seated -under an arcade that ran along one side, busily eating and drinking, -and laughing with merriment somewhat dissonant to the grave solemnity -of the scene.</p> - -<p class="normal">Father George spoke to none; but walking rapidly across, opened a door -under the cloister, and held it wide till Adelaide and Bertha had -passed through. Then locking it behind him, he crossed a lesser court, -and thence led the two girls into what seemed a wing of the abbey. -That there were high towers of Gothic stone-work rising above them, -they clearly saw; but after passing along a narrow, vaulted passage, -with rich tracery upon the roof and in the windows which flanked it on -the left, their guide paused at a low door, covered with iron plates -and large-headed nails, or bosses. By the side of the door stood a -stone bench or coffer, and on it lay several tapers, not yet lighted, -and a lamp already burning. Father George, before he proceeded -farther, lighted three of the candles at the lamp, and giving one to -each of his companions, he took a key from his girdle, and put it in -the lock. He was, as we have described him, a hale, strong old man, -but to move that door required the exertion of all his powers; and -when at length it was thrown back, it exposed to view the entrance of -a dark cavern or passage in the rock, which rose gradually from the -back of the building.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Be not afraid," said the monk to Adelaide; "the horses and men are -waiting for you in the wood at the end of this hollow. I feared that -from the watch-tower of the castle they might see women's garments -flutter, if you went out by any of the gates, and that would instantly -raise suspicion. By this road you may pass unseen for miles, till you -are beyond all pursuit."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear not, I fear not, holy Father," answered Adelaide; and while -Bertha murmured to herself, "But I do, mightily," they went on upon -their way.</p> - -<p class="normal">The cavern--which, though perhaps a part was nature's handiwork, -displayed evidently the traces of man's labour also--extended for -perhaps three or four hundred yards, and then terminated at another -door, beyond which they found the dark woods sweeping round, and a -spur of the mountain hiding the spot completely from the valley above -which Ehrenstein was situated. Immediately beneath the door by which -they issued forth was a slight descent, where broken fragments of -rock, tumbled about in all directions, concealed from all but very -curious eyes the entrance of the passage to the abbey; and below that -again, was a small green area, surrounded by tall trees, in which was -collected a number of men and horses.</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide and Bertha were soon mounted, the armed men sprang into the -saddle, Father George bestowed his blessing upon the young heiress of -Ehrenstein, and the word was given to depart, when Bertha, turning her -head, exclaimed, "At least tell us whither we are going to, Father, as -you go not with us."</p> - -<p class="normal">"To Heiligenstein," answered the monk. "There you will find a place -prepared for you;" and, approaching Adelaide's side, he added, "I -forgot, in all the hurry of this day to tell you, my dear daughter, -that till you hear more from me, for your own security and that of him -you love, conceal carefully your name and rank; your young husband has -been cautioned, but you must not forget to be careful."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will not," answered Adelaide; "and indeed it will be joyful to me -to repose for a time even as a poor country maiden."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A maiden!" said Father George with a smile; "nay, you must not forget -you are a wife."</p> - -<p class="normal">The colour rose warm in Adelaide's cheek; and, without reply, she rode -on, musing.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The glorious sun and the free air of heaven, the blue arch above, the -green fresh world around, the face of man, the sweet human voice, -greeted the senses of Martin of Dillberg for the last time. The -chaplain of Count Frederick had been with him for some hours; but his -voice had made no impression. He would neither confess that he had -offended, nor acknowledge the justice of his sentence. Sullen and -dogged, though evidently terrified and cowed, he remained either -obstinately silent, or murmured low curses to himself, till he was -brought out from his place of imprisonment, and led towards the -drawbridge. Glaring round, with eyes at once fearful and fierce, he -soon perceived the retainers of Ehrenstein guarding the gates, and the -soldiers of Leiningen in possession of the drawbridge; while on the -right, at a little distance, stood Count Frederick, with his arms -sternly folded on his chest, and surrounded by several of his knights. -In front was a large beam of wood, with a tall, powerful man, bare -armed, leaning on an axe. The youth shuddered; but with the bitter and -malicious spirit still strong in his bosom, which had been his bane -through life, he looked round for Ferdinand of Altenburg, who, he -doubted not, was to share his fate. He saw him nowhere; but he -remarked that the chaplain went up to Count Frederick, on a sign, and -that his lord spoke eagerly a few words which he could not hear. They -were, "Has he shown contrition? Has he confessed and repented?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Alas! no, my good lord," replied the chaplain; "yet it is a pity that -one so young--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is," said the Count, musing; "were there a hope--but this is now -the third time, and hope is gone. Nevertheless--"</p> - -<p class="normal">But ere he could conclude the sentence, the voice of Martin of -Dillberg was heard exclaiming, bitterly, "I see not the man who is -more guilty than I am. Where is that Ferdinand of Altenburg? Let me -see him die first; or will you spare him, and murder me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">An expression of high scorn and indignation came over the face of -Count Frederick as he heard those words, and pointing to the criminal, -he said, "To the block with him--there is no hope!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The trumpet sounded; they drew him on, and bade him kneel; but when he -saw the axe and the bare-armed executioner, his heart failed him, and -he drew back and trembled violently.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Down, coward!" said an old soldier behind him; but yet even that -contemptuous word had not power to goad him to assume a daring that -was not really in his breast; and still he held back, and gazed wildly -at the instrument of his death. The priest advanced to his side, and -whispered some words in his ear--they were words of hope and promise -for a world to come; but all the unhappy youth's thoughts were fixed -on this life, even at the moment he was quitting it; and he murmured, -"I will confess--I will pray for pardon!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is in vain," said the chaplain; "your own words but now, have -destroyed you. The Count is gone, and you must die."</p> - -<p class="normal">Martin of Dillberg looked round; but Count Frederick was no longer -there; and at the same moment the hands of some of those who had -been his companions, but not his friends--he had no friend amongst -them--seized him, and bent him down to the block. Then all withdrew -for a few steps, except the priest, who still stood by his side, -addressing to his dull unlistening ear the words of holy exhortation. -There was a movement in the youth's limbs, as if he would fain have -risen again; but then the trumpet sounded again, the heavy axe fell -hard upon his neck, and at that one blow, the head, smote off, rolled -upon the drawbridge.</p> - -<p class="normal">The men around were used to sights of blood, to daily peril, and to -the image of death; but still there were various feelings amongst -them. None murmured, it is true,--all admitted that his fate was just, -and that he had been pardoned but too often. Some sternly said, it was -a good deed done, and turned away contented; but others felt a -sensation of awe, and even of pain, at witnessing the violent death of -one so young, though brought about by acts of craft and wickedness -beyond his years. Count Frederick remained in his own chamber for some -time alone, and in deep meditation; and when at length he came forth, -his cheek was pale, and his whole air sad.</p> - -<p class="normal">He had but taken three steps in the corridor, however, when he was -roused from the reverie in which he seemed plunged, by the agitation -and bustle which might be observed in the castle. Persons were passing -up and down the great stairs; doors were opening and closing; there -was a sound of trampling horses in the court-yard, and many voices -speaking; but above all rose the tones of the Count of Ehrenstein, -apparently in anger. Further on, towards the other end of the wide -passage, Count Frederick beheld his own page apparently listening to -the mingled din; and so occupied was the boy that he did not perceive -his lord had quitted his chamber, till the Count called him to him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is the matter, Albert of Landeck?" asked the nobleman, as the -page ran up at his call; "there seems a strange confusion here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"'Tis, my good lord, that the Lady Adelaide has escaped from the -chamber where her father had imprisoned her," answered the boy; "and -no one knows how or whither she has gone. The door was still locked, -they say, and not a trace of her to be found."</p> - -<p class="normal">"'Tis a strange place, this castle of Ehrenstein," said Count -Frederick, with a smile; "has my noble friend no suspicion of who has -aided her flight?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I heard him vow but now, that it was the monks from the abbey," -answered the boy; "he sent down, an hour ago, it seems, to one Father -George, at the chapel we passed yesterday in the wood, requiring his -presence to shrive Ferdinand of Altenburg; but no monk was to be found -there; and so he thinks it must have been he who has spirited the lady -away."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will go down and speak with him," said Count Frederick; and, -descending the stairs, he found his host, with heated look, and fiery -words, urging his horsemen, who were mounting as rapidly as possible, -to more speed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Quick, fool, quick!" he cried to one; "will you have never done that -buckling of the girth? Away, by the upper road, to Anweiler. They -cannot be far. Take the road to the left, as soon as you top the hill, -and sweep round through the woods, meeting Mosbach by the blacksmith's -forge. You, Seckendorf, with four or five more, to the abbey at once, -and demand the lady of the abbot, in her father's name. Tell him, as -sure as the sun shines in heaven, I will burn his monkery about his -ears, if he conceals her. You, Adolph, track along the stream, letting -some of the men dismount and look for the prints of horses' feet. If -you can find any, follow them. Quick to the saddle to the saddle; a -minute, more or less, may save or ruin all. Ha! my noble friend. This -is a sad and terrible thing; my daughter fled, and no clue or tidings -of her!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"And the youth?" inquired Count Frederick; "can he give you no -information? He, most likely, has some knowledge of her means of -escape. Doubtless, the probable necessity of such a step was -calculated on beforehand."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha! in my anxiety I forgot him," cried the Count; "true, true--I will -have it from his heart--I will put him to the torture. Go, bring -Ferdinand of Altenburg hither to the great hall. We will have him in -the great hall, Count Frederick. He feared it not in old times; now he -shall have cause to fear."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he led the way, while his friend followed, the party -being swelled by the jester, the chaplain, and one or two of Count -Frederick's attendants, as they went. What it was that Herr von Narren -said to those who followed, the two noblemen did not hear; but just as -they reached the door of the great hall, and while the man, to whom -the Count had given his orders respecting Ferdinand, was drawing back -the bolts on the other side of the vestibule, a loud laugh, in which -even the priest joined, though not so vociferously as the rest, struck -harshly on the Count of Ehrenstein's ear; and flinging back the door -of the hall, he took three steps in. Then, however, he stopped -suddenly, and gazed with haggard eyes before, around, above him. Count -Frederick also looked with an expression of wonder round the walls; -and, in truth, it was a strange sight that presented itself. The -banners were all gone; the green bows and chaplets of flowers, -wreaths, and coronets, were no longer seen; but on every banner-pole -hung a mouldy shroud, and each thick column was covered with a pall.</p> - -<p class="normal">"In Heaven's name! what is this?" exclaimed Count Frederick; "'tis a -strange way of tricking out your hall, Ehrenstein."</p> - -<p class="normal">"'Tis for the bridal! 'tis for the bridal, uncle!" cried the jester.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What bridal, fool?" cried the Count of Ehrenstein, fiercely, -remembering only the hated union between his daughter and Ferdinand of -Altenburg.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, the bridal between the worm and the corpse," answered the -jester; "there are few more merry weddings; but what is that on the -chair of state? It looks marvellous like a pillow after a man's nose -has bled in the night."</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Frederick advanced with a quick step, and his host followed with -a pale cheek. The object which had attracted the jester's notice -proved to be a blood-stained coat of arms, cut and torn in many -places, and on it lay a strip of parchment inscribed with the words, -"Wilhelm, Count of Ehrenstein--summoned--judged--condemned.--Death."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is all this, my friend?" asked Count Frederick; "you seem to -decorate your hall somewhat strangely."</p> - -<p class="normal">But as he spoke, there was a hurried step upon the pavement behind; -and the man who had been sent to bring Ferdinand before his lord, -approached, exclaiming, "He is not there, my lord. The door was fast -locked--not a bolt drawn; but he is gone. Food and wine are there, as -if he had fared well before he went, but not a trace of him can I -find."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Wise young man," cried the jester, "he walks after supper. 'Tis a -wholesome practice, and in his case peculiarly preservative of health. -He must have a good physician."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count of Ehrenstein folded his arms upon his chest; and gazing on -the bystanders, murmured, "I am betrayed." Then turning to the chair -again, he fixed his eyes upon the soiled coat of arms, raised the slip -of parchment, read it, and threw it down again, turning to his guest -and saying, "Who can have done all this? I know nought of it. I deck -not my hall with shrouds, nor set free my own prisoners. Who can have -done this?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, it is very strange!" answered Count Frederick. "It would take a -man hours to spread these out. Good faith! I love not the -neighbourhood of such dark mysteries,--and the youth gone, too! I -wonder if our friend of Eppenfeld is safe; for in truth, my noble -friend, your doors seem not the most secure."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We will send and see," replied the Count of Ehrenstein; but the -reader is already aware of what must have been the result of the -search. The Baron of Eppenfeld was not to be found; and with a -somewhat heavy brow Count Frederick exclaimed, "He must be taken! -Alone, on foot, and without money, he cannot go far--he must be taken, -Ehrenstein."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good faith! my noble friend, I would willingly help you," answered -his host; "but I have, as you well know, matters on hand that touch me -nearer far; and all the men I can spare must be absent, seeking for -this undutiful girl and her perfidious paramour. Doubtless these monks -are the movers in all this; and I will burn their abbey about their -ears, unless I find her speedily."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no; oh, no!" cried the Count of Leiningen. "No such rash -violence, Ehrenstein. You may suspect much, but can prove nought -against them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can prove that one of them wedded my daughter to my sworn -follower," cried the Count, "secretly, by stealth, and at an unlawful -hour. He knew right well what he was doing, and he shall pay the -penalty."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Take counsel, take counsel," exclaimed the jester, "and I will show -you a far better way to punish this meddling priest. Force him to -marry a wife himself; and he will repent in sack-cloth, I will -warrant."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have no proof of the fact, as far as I have heard," said Count -Frederick, "and you may bring yourself into great danger. But 'tis no -affair of mine. I will attach myself to find this Baron of Eppenfeld; -and he will lie closer than a hind beside her fawn, or I will find -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perchance, in seeking him, you may find what would be to me a far -more precious thing," replied the Count of Ehrenstein; "and I am sure -that, in honour and good fellowship, if you should meet with either my -rebellious child, or he who has seduced her from obedience to her -father, you will send them back to me at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Frederick mused for an instant without reply, and then said, -"Nay, not at once, Ehrenstein. Should they fall into my hands, I would -fain give you time to let your wrath subside, and judge the case of -Ferdinand of Altenburg more calmly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He or I shall die," answered the Count, sternly, interrupting his -guest.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But not without fair and free trial, if I have him in my custody," -replied Count Frederick, firmly; "that, at least, I will secure to -him. We are all the slaves of our passions, Ehrenstein; and when we -find an angry spirit stirring within us, we should take sureties -against ourselves. For that reason was it that, in judging the guilty -youth who died this morning, I called to my aid as many free and -impartial voices as I could find. You do so too. At all events, if I -take the youth, you shall have no cause to complain that justice is -not done upon him. You shall have every means and every aid to prove -the charge, and then to deal with him according to the laws and -customs of the land."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good faith!" said the jester, "then shall he have hard measure and -short time; for the laws are bitter enough, and the customs are -expeditious. Thank Heaven! we nobles and jesters are above the laws."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not so," answered Count Frederick, while his host stood gloomy beside -him, not very well contented with the restricted promise he had -received; "there are laws for nobles and even for jesters, Herr von -Narren."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Doubtless, doubtless, uncle," said the other; "I said not that there -were not laws for all: I only said that we are above them; and that is -true, as I can prove. First, the noble is so high above the law, that, -long as is the arm of justice, it can never reach him. Secondly, so -far is the law beneath the noble, that every day he tramples it under -his feet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Too true, I fear," answered his lord. "But hark, Ehrenstein! I hear -some of your people returning. Let us see what success they have had. -Perchance they have caught the fugitives."</p> - -<p class="normal">It was soon found, however, that no success had been obtained. The -persons whom Count Frederick had heard passing the drawbridge were not -of those who had been sent in pursuit of Adelaide; but ere an hour was -over, two or three who had visited the abbey came back with the -tidings that the monks denied the lady had taken refuge there, but -threatened loudly in regard to some violence shown by the Count's men -to the windows of the chapel in the wood. The messenger added, that -they seemed angry enough about something; for he saw vassals and -tenants coming in armed, and horsemen sent out as if to call for -further assistance. Other parties returned soon after, but yet no -intelligence arrived Of the fair fugitive; and the Count of Ehrenstein -mused in silence, perhaps not quite so well contented as he would have -wished to appear, that he could not take his measures unnoticed by the -eyes of one whose frank and generous spirit, and calmer and more -elevated mind, acted as a check upon him. Count Frederick, however, -did not, or would not, see that his presence was in any degree a -burden. He remained with his host, sometimes musing as he mused, -sometimes counselling, sometimes discussing; or busied himself in -ordering preparations for the pursuit of the Baron of Eppenfeld, by -parties of his own band.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean while, the jester kept close to the side of his lord and -the Count of Ehrenstein; but he too seemed buried in deep reveries; -and at length the last-named nobleman, as if in a fit of impatience, -turned round, exclaiming, "Well, Herr von Narren, what do you meditate -so profoundly? It is to find that one wilful girl can baffle so many -experienced men?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, good lord," replied the jester, "it is rather to find that so -many experienced men have not wit to take the means at hand for -catching one truant girl."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What would you?" cried the Count. "What means have I left untried?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"There was once an old woman who lost a piece of money," said the -jester, "and she looked all day for it in every part of her house, -except her own pocket. Now the Lord of Ehrenstein is just like the old -woman, for he looks for the lady in every part of the country except -his own castle, which is just as good a place for hiding a rich thing -as the old woman's pocket."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By my honour! he says true," exclaimed Count Frederick; "all these -three missing ones may even now be within a few yards of us, as far as -I have seen any search made."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have had all the rooms above stairs well examined," replied the -Count of Ehrenstein, thoughtfully; "except, indeed, your own, my noble -friend; and there I did not dream that any one could be concealed. The -mystery is, how these doors have been opened, the fugitives brought -forth, and all made fast again. That there is treachery somewhere, no -one can doubt; and those who released them from confinement would -doubtless assist them in flight."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That might not be so easy," replied Count Frederick; "but at all -events let us search. There seem chambers and passages enough, here -below, to hide a baron's train. It is quite possible they might find -their way forth from the chambers where they were confined, and yet -not be able to escape from the castle."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is a tempting door," said the jester, pointing to that which -appeared at the end of the hall near the chair of state. "The youth -Ferdinand, when we were sitting here together watching the cold pies, -lest the mice should make houses of them, talked familiarly of that -door, and of the place beyond."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" cried the Count of Ehrenstein, "said he that he had ever been -there?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, not so," replied the jester, "but he told me that it led to -vaults, and to the serfs' burial-place,--very awful vaults, indeed, my -noble lord, where nobody would venture; and he hinted how terrible -deeds had been done there, which had begotten many ghosts. I am not -sure he did not speak of devils too; but he was marvellous conversant -with all that the place contained; and his was a bold heart, just fit -to trust himself with spirits, good or bad."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come," cried the Count hastily, "we will search;" but he led the way -from the door which had been the theme of the jester's conversation, -and, followed by several attendants, examined carefully every part of -the building which had not been searched before, till he came to the -door of the great hall again; but there he paused, and seemed -unwilling to go farther.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let us on, Ehrenstein," said Count Frederick, "and make the work -complete by looking through these vaults."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They are not there," answered the Count, in a hesitating tone; "I -feel sure they would not venture."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What, not Ferdinand of Altenburg!" exclaimed Count Frederick; "I -would gage a county against a flask of Ingelheim, that he would -venture into an open grave sooner than any man should say he was -afraid. I am some judge of men's courage; and few things would daunt -that lad. If he knew that other men feared to tread those vaults, 'tis -the very reason he would seek refuge there."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count of Ehrenstein mused for a moment. There was truth in what -his friend said; and he remembered, too, how little dread his daughter -had seemed to feel in trusting herself where others were afraid to -stay for even a few minutes. There, too, in that very hall, she had -been alone for some hours with Ferdinand of Altenburg; and the hope of -finding them together in the gloomy asylum beyond, and punishing one -at least upon the spot, filled him with a fierce kind of pleasure; but -yet he hesitated. "I know not," he said, "but I doubt much, my noble -friend, that we shall find anyone to aid the search. All men here -dread that place. Even this hall they hold in terror, from their -superstitious fancies. Did you not see how, when the messenger came to -tell me the answer of these daring monks, he flurried away like -lightning as soon as his errand was told?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, what matters it how many there be?" asked his guest. "Here are -you and I, and our friend Herr von Narren, who, I will answer for it, -fears as little as we do."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I am quite ready, uncle," cried the jester, "though I fear -horribly; but fools are privileged against ghosts; and as your band -has no lack of fools, I think I can get three or four others to bear -us company, though, doubtless, we shall have rare trembling and -shaking as we walk along. There's Henry of Geisen, and his inseparable -Fritz Munter; they will go. Here, lads, here! we want men who love -knocking their heads against stone walls. Here is an enterprise worthy -of you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Henry of Geisen was ready to go wherever his lord went, and Fritz -Munter would go wherever Henry of Geisen turned his steps. Two or -three more were collected, who, though it cannot be said they showed -no fear--for every one looked somewhat dull when the vaults were -mentioned--did not hang back; and torches being procured, the Count of -Ehrenstein, with a heavy brow and teeth hard set, approached the -little door on the left of the dais. It was fixed as firm, however, as -a piece of the wall, and did not seem to have been opened for years.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay," said the Count, who, having made his mind up to the -examination, would not now be disappointed; "I will bring the keys."</p> - -<p class="normal">When he returned, Count Frederick, who had been looking steadfastly at -the pile of dust which time had accumulated before the door, pointed -to the ground, saying, "There is a footmark."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is mine," cried the jester, setting his broad square cut shoe -upon it. "I defy you to match that for a neat, tiny, little foot, in -all the castle."</p> - -<p class="normal">But the very fact of a footmark being so near the door confirmed the -Count in his resolution of going on; and after some trouble, for the -key was rusty with neglect, the door was opened, and a torch held up -to light the way. On the whole party went, along the stone passage, -down the well stairs, and then into the vault; but here it seemed as -if all the noxious beasts of the place had leagued together to oppose -their passage. Hundreds of bats flapped through the air, and, dazzled -by the torches, swept close past the faces of the intruders; enormous -toads, bloated and slow, crept across the ground; two or three large -snakes darted away, hissing and showing their forked tongues; long -earth-worms, and hideous orange slugs, wriggled or crawled along the -path; and a large mole cricket dashed itself in the eyes of one of the -men, making him start back in terror.</p> - -<p class="normal">Not a word passed the lips of the Count of Ehrenstein; but, instead of -going straight forward, he led the way to the left, and made, by a -circuitous course, for the side of the crypt under the chapel. Through -it, too, he passed rapidly, till he reached the door leading out upon -the hill, which he tried, and found fast locked and bolted.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now," he cried, "if they are here, we have them safe;" and he then -applied himself to make his companions spread out and sweep the whole -width of the vaults on the way back, so that the torches might light -every part of the space--he himself keeping on the extreme right. But -this he found difficult to accomplish: the men loved not to be -separated; and only Count Frederick and the jester would take the -places assigned to them,--the others keeping close together, and -following one or other of the three. The torch-light, too, lost itself -in the old darkness of the place, as soon as, having quitted the -crypt, where the windows afforded some light, however dim, they -entered the wider vaults where the serfs were buried; and often one -person stopped, or another, as they went along, examining the various -objects that met their eyes. The Count of Ehrenstein himself paused at -a door on his right, and looked to ascertain that it was fastened; but -he soon resumed his advance again, and had nearly reached the other -side, when a voice, loud and commanding, suddenly cried, "Stand!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Every one started, and there was a dead silence for an instant.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who spoke there?" demanded the Count of Ehrenstein. "Leiningen, was -it you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not I," exclaimed Count Frederick. "It seemed to come from your -side."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I heard it on both sides," said the jester; "but that is natural, -having two ears."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who spoke?" again asked the Count of Ehrenstein, raising his voice; -but no one answered, and Count Frederick took a step forward. The next -moment he exclaimed, "What, in Heaven's name, is this? Ehrenstein, -Ehrenstein, come hither! What is this?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The men crowded up to the spot where the nobleman stood. The Count of -Ehrenstein came more slowly; but when he did come, he found his friend -gazing at the skeleton chained to the stone column. That, however, was -not the only object that met his eyes; for in the bony hand was a long -strip of vellum, falling almost to the ground, and upon it in large -characters, written apparently in blood, was the word "Vengeance!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count paused, and gazed with his eyes straining from their -sockets, his mouth half open, and his nostrils expanded; while beside -him stood Count Frederick, and behind, the jester, with his eyes bent -upon his lord's entertainer, his lip quivering, and his brow knit into -a dark and ominous frown. All kept silent for some time, and no one -moved, unless indeed it was the jester, whose hand opened and shut -more than once upon the hilt of his dagger. At length Count Frederick -broke the terrible silence, and inquired, "What is this, Ehrenstein?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count made no reply; and in an instant after he fell back, -senseless, one of the soldiers catching him just as his head was about -to strike the ground.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Take him up, and carry him to his chamber," cried Count Frederick; -"we have had enough of this;" and two of the men, raising the body of -the Count, who sighed heavily, bore him on, while his friend followed, -conversing in a low tone with the jester.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"Halt!" cried, at length, the same voice which had more than once -sounded in the ear of Ferdinand of Altenburg, during the eventful -night of his escape from the castle of Ehrenstein, but now speaking in -a louder tone than before; and the hands which still held the arms of -the young fugitive somewhat relaxed their grasp. Ferdinand, however, -had now a more definite idea of the place to which he had been -brought; for during the time they had paused in the wood, and the half -hour which had elapsed since they had resumed their rapid course, he -had had time to collect his thoughts, which at first were confused -with agitation and excitement. As soon as they began to move, he had -perceived that they rapidly descended the hill; and shortly after, -though the cowl was far over his eyes, he caught the glistening of the -river at a few steps' distance. The next minute it became clear that -they were passing over the bridge; and then they threaded tortuous -ways, narrow and overgrown with briars and weeds, which, he was sure, -could only lead to the old castle on the hill opposite to Ehrenstein.</p> - -<p class="normal">When, at length, the voice cried "Halt!" as I have said, the young -gentleman felt sure that they must be standing in one of the -grass-grown courts or ruined halls of the dilapidated building. The -stamping noise of tethered and impatient horses, too, was heard; and -many whisperings, as of a number of men speaking in low tones, sounded -around. All was as dark as the pit of Acheron, however; till suddenly -a dull red glare found its way even under the cowl; and, a minute -after, the same voice said aloud, "Bring him forward; leave the -other--he is safe; but bring the last before me."</p> - -<p class="normal">The hands which were holding Ferdinand but lightly now withdrew -entirely, and there was a movement around. He profited by his freedom -instantly to raise the hood from his head, and look abroad, when he -found himself, as he had supposed, in the great court of the ruined -castle; but he was, indeed, surprised to find it half filled with men. -Each was cased in armour, like the followers of some feudal baron, and -each had the visor of his helmet down, so that no face was visible; -but in the midst of the party, seated on a mass of fallen stone-work, -with a man holding a lighted torch a little in advance on one side, -and another with a large two-handed sword, naked, on the other, was a -being of gigantic stature, clothed from head to heel in jet black -arms. The gauntlet, the casque, the very plume, were all dark as -night; and a strange effect had the light of that single torch, as it -showed that towering form, glistened upon the bare weapon, which was -the only object that reflected its glare, picked out the black figures -all around, and then, as it faded away in the obscurity beyond, -faintly illumined the crumbling towers and falling walls of the -deserted stronghold.</p> - -<p class="normal">But, the instant after, a figure was brought forward before the seated -leader, which at once arrested all Ferdinand's attention; for at a -glance he recognised the Baron of Eppenfeld.</p> - -<p class="normal">Even now, though the scene and the circumstances were well calculated -to strike terror even into a bold and resolute heart, the Baron -maintained his air of rude and reckless daring, gazed round the groups -in his neighbourhood, fixed his eyes upon the principal figure, looked -at the swordsman with his naked weapon, and then, with a laugh, -exclaimed, "Well, I am amongst comrades, it seems. We are all of a -feather, doubtless, though I knew not there were so many eagles within -a day's flight of my own eyry."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Eagles, kite!" exclaimed the voice of the gigantic figure with the -black plume. "You merit plucking for your insolence in comparing a -carrion fowl like thyself to noble birds. Listen, Baron of Eppenfeld, -and answer before the court of the Black Rider; and mark well all that -thou seest, and all that thou hearest. Look at that sword."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I see it," answered the Baron; "it is long and strong, and in a good -hand may do good service."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The edge is sharp," replied the voice; "and ere half an hour be over -that edge shall smite thy neck, if thou answerest not, or answerest -untruly, any question that is asked."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By the Lord! I am in no mood for answering questions," replied the -Baron of Eppenfeld, who did not seem to apply the idea of death to -himself with any great facility, or who perhaps doubted that the -threat held out to him would be put in execution.</p> - -<p class="normal">But the tone of him who spoke speedily removed all doubts. "Well, -then," said the voice, "be it as you say. Kneel down, Baron of -Eppenfeld.--Strike off his head,--but, first, smite the spurs from the -heels of the felon!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Before the Baron could turn round, or had time to say another word, -the blow of an axe from some one behind struck away the marks of -knighthood from his heels, the sharpest indignity that man could -suffer in those days; and, while his heart beat, and his cheek grew -red and white, the voice again exclaimed, "Kneel down!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay," cried the Baron, now convinced that it was no jest they -practised on him. "What are your questions?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, no covenants," answered the Black Rider. "Here men answer, or do -not answer, all that is asked of them. If they answer, well; they are -safe from harm--if they answer not, they die. Such is my law. Once -more, Wilt thou live or die?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Live, to be sure," cried the Baron. "Think you I would die while -grapes grow beside the Rhine, or the roe deer bounds upon the -mountain? Ask what you will, I will answer."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Speak without pause or hesitation, then," said the Black Rider. "If -he falter but at a word, sweep off his head. Now, mark well! Did the -Count of Ehrenstein, some sixteen years ago, send you with your men to -seize, near Ulm, a lady and her child?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He did," replied the Baron; "but 'tis well nigh seventeen years, I -think."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did he give you a bond for the payment, in three years, of two -thousand ducats for the deed?" asked the voice.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, did he; and he paid all but two hundred ducats," answered the -Baron; "that, he would not pay till I proved that I had done all that -he required."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What more did he require than their mere seizure?" inquired the -voice.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Baron hesitated, and the Black Rider instantly exclaimed, "Strike -him on the neck!" The swordsman raised his weapon; but the Baron -exclaimed, "Stay, in Heaven's name! I did but think of all the -matters. They are long gone."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What more did he require?" thundered the voice.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That I should plunge them in the Danube, as if by accident, and let -them perish there," replied the Baron.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a pause of more than a minute, during which every one -remained profoundly silent, and then the Black Rider demanded, "And -did you do this deed?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, on my life!" answered the Baron of Eppenfeld. "Nay more, I never -intended to do it. I would have seized them, and kept them in some -secret place, to bring them forth when the time served. But--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Have you the bond?" asked the voice.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Two days ago, I could have said Yes," was the Baron's answer; "but -they have sacked and razed my castle, and all the papers--for there -were letters many--have either been taken or burnt."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, speak the truth," said the Black Rider; "Who has the papers?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Count Frederick of Leiningen had them," answered the Baron; "but, -doubtless, he gave them to his worthy and right noble friend of -Ehrenstein."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What became of the child and the mother?" asked the voice again.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I cannot tell," replied the captive. "They had received timely -notice, it would seem, of my errand, and had fled ere I reached Ulm; -but I have heard that both died of the fever at Regensburg, not a year -after. It is true, too; for those who told me knew what they said. So -I swore to the Count that they were dead; but because I could bring no -one to prove that they perished in the Danube, he would not pay the -rest, and I kept the bond."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who read to you the Count's letters, and wrote your answers," -inquired his interrogator; "for you are no clerk yourself?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"A shaveling--a priest I had with me then," said the Baron. "He had -fled to me from Würtzburg, where he had killed a man in a fray about a -woman; but he is dead now, the good clerk. He drank half a hogshead of -red wine in a week, which made him so sleepy he never woke again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No more of him," cried the voice sternly. "So the mother and the -child died of the fever. Now, speak; Who were they?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, that I know not," said the prisoner. "All I know is what the -Count told me, which was, that she was his dead brother's leman, and -the boy a bastard, whom he did not believe even to be his brother's -child. They wanted money from him, I fancy, on some old written -promise of the last count--a thousand Venetian ducats yearly--so he -told me; and he thought it best to give me two years of the payment, -and have done with it for ever."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is this all you know of this matter?" asked the Black Rider again.</p> - -<p class="normal">"All, upon my life!" answered the Baron. "They are both dead--that is -certain; but I had no hand in their death, I will swear upon the holy -cross." The gigantic figure remained motionless and silent for more -than a minute, then waved his hand from right to left with a peculiar -motion. The Baron turned his head, in some doubt whether he should not -see the naked sword behind him taking the same direction towards his -neck; but suddenly the man who held the torch reversed it, pressed the -flaming end upon the ground and the next moment all was darkness.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand of Altenburg had listened in silence to all that had passed. -There were many parts of this long interrogatory in which he felt a -deep interest; but that interest was too keen, too overpowering, to -suffer him, even by a word, to interrupt the course of the questions -and replies. There was an awe upon him--he knew not well why--that -would have kept him silent even had he not been listening eagerly for -every syllable. It seemed as if the secret of his life were in the -words then spoken. Sentence by sentence associated itself with other -things within his knowledge. The scenes of his childhood rose up -before him, the flight in the night from a place, the name of which -had long passed away from memory, but which instantly connected itself -with Ulm, as soon as the word was pronounced. The house at Regensburg, -and that name, too, and the death-bed of his mother when he was yet a -child, with many another incident, breaking from spots in the past -which had before seemed dark, like the sparks of fire wandering about -in the half-extinguished tinder, were all brought up vividly before -the mind's eye, till at length he was almost tempted to exclaim, "You -are wrong. The mother did die, but the boy still lives." He would fain -have asked some questions more; and, just as the torch was -extinguished, he took a step forward, but instantly a hand was laid -upon his arm, not grasping tight as before, but gently; and a voice -whispered in his ear, "Not a word; but follow. A horse is ready for -you, and we must ride far ere break of day."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand scrupled not to obey, for he had been about to act upon -impulse; and a moment's thought showed him that it would be better to -say nothing. Turning, then, with the person who had spoken, and who -still kept his hand lightly upon the young man's arm, he passed -through a part of the crowd, every individual in which remained -profoundly silent, and paused where the other paused, near the old -ruinous gateway, through which the dark masses of the hills and woods -around and below could be faintly seen in the dim night air. Suddenly -there was a sound of moving feet and horses' hoofs; and man after man -passed through the archway, till at length the person beside him said, -"Now!" Ferdinand went on, the other followed; and when they issued -forth, the young man saw a whole troop mounted, a number of horses -held at a little distance, and two standing immediately in front.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Go on, and mount," said the voice, in the same low tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand advanced, without further question, and put his foot in the -stirrup of the foremost horse. The man who had the bridle in his hand -said nothing, and the young gentleman vaulted into the saddle. His -companion followed, and they then joined the group before them. Two -more horses were next brought forward, other persons mounted, and at -length the tall black figure came forth from the arch of the gate, -leapt upon a charger a full hand higher than any of the rest, and then -riding forward, past all those who were already in the saddle, put -himself at the head of the troop. A signal was given from the front, -the whole body began to move in exact order, and Ferdinand of -Altenburg found himself forming a part of the band of the Black -Huntsman.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXXV.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide was sad, though the words of the priest had, in some degree, -allayed the anxiety she felt for him she loved; but yet she was -sad--very sad. There were now other causes of depression weighing down -her mind, which during the fever of apprehension she had not -experienced. She now felt what it was to quit her father's house, a -fugitive--under his anger--under, perhaps, his curse. There might -indeed be matter of consolation in her thoughts; there might be a full -justification of her conduct to her own heart. She might feel, or -might believe, that she had done no wrong. Scanning her motives as -severely as she could, she might, with a clear conscience, say, that -not for any personal feeling,--not for love, or from weakness, had she -neglected a duty to a parent; that passion, or fancy, or attachment, -had not shared, even in a degree, in what she had done. Though she -loved as deeply as she was loved in return, and owned to her own heart -that she had made no sacrifice of aught but the girl's timidity, still -it was sad to quit the home of youth as an outcast. It weighed upon -her that her father's last words to her should have been those of -anger and bitterness; that the eye which had ever looked beaming upon -her, even when it fell cold and harsh on others, should at length have -blazed with rage as it rested on her face.</p> - -<p class="normal">Apprehension, too, mingled with such painful sensations. What if the -early discovery of all that had taken place should frustrate the -object which had made her willing, eager in her consent? What if her -absence, and that of her young husband, in a moment of peril, should -leave her father exposed to the dangers from which she would fain have -shielded him? Her heart sank as she thought of it; and, moreover, she -said to herself, with a sigh--for all women, and most men, think of -the world's opinion, more or less--"People will believe that I have -yielded to love for Ferdinand to disobey my father on the most vital -point, and they will condemn me justly, and think my punishment hardly -severe enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">She felt very sad then: she could take no pleasure in the scenes -through which she passed, though the green woods were everywhere -pleasant to the eye, and often many a lovely spot peeped in upon her -through the sloping chasms in the hills, as she went along. In vain -Bertha, with gay talk, strove hard to win her from her heavy thoughts; -and though the men who accompanied her were kind and civil in their -rude way, yet nought could win a smile to poor Adelaide's lip.</p> - -<p class="normal">The sun rose high, and looked down into the dells through which they -wound along, gilding the banks of moss, and chequering the narrow road -with waving filigree work, of yellow light and green shade. He began -to sink behind the branches of the higher trees, and a cool, fresh air -followed his decline. Through the most unfrequented parts of the wide -forest, which stretched far along the hills, they took their way, -avoiding village, and hamlet, and farm, and even keeping at a distance -from the course of the stream. The paths they chose were those of the -woodman; or the hunter; but even the latter trod them so seldom, that -more than once, from a thicket close at hand, the wild roe bounded -away; and twice or thrice, where a shady glade opened into the heart -of the wood, a stag was seen raising his antlered head, and gazing -steadfastly at the unwonted sight of a cavalcade crossing his own -habitual solitude.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, after four hours' slow riding, the man who seemed the -leader of the little troop which had been sent to guard Adelaide on -her way, drew in his horse, saying, "I think, lady, we must now be -beyond all danger, and can well afford to halt for an hour to refresh -ourselves and our horses, under the trees, with the provisions which -my lord, the Abbot, has bountifully supplied."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If the horses need refreshment, let us stop," replied Adelaide: "I -would not have the poor beasts misused for me; but you need not halt -on my account: I do not need any repose, and am only anxious to -proceed as fast as may be."</p> - -<p class="normal">The good man, however, chose to take it for granted that the cattle -did want food and rest, though they had fed well at the abbey, and had -rested for some hours. Bertha, too, to say the truth, was right glad -of some refreshment; for she had had a weary and an apprehensive -night; and hers was a light heart, that forgot its fears as soon as -danger was no longer very apparent.</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide dismounted, then, as soon as she saw that it needs must be -so; and seated on the turf, beneath a spreading beech tree, a -plentiful meal was laid out before her, with some of the rich wines of -the abbey; of which good cheer her companions failed not to partake -more plentifully than she did herself. The horses, tethered near, fed -on some oats which had been brought for their need, and finished their -meal upon the forest grass; and thus nearly an hour passed without any -sign of an intention to move.</p> - -<p class="normal">The sun where they sat was shining brightly upon a small open space in -front, not a cloud seemed to shadow any part of the sky, and the tops -of the distant hills, seen through the brake, appeared peculiarly -sharp and clear. But, in the midst of this serenity, Adelaide's quick -ear caught a peculiar rolling sound, coming apparently from a distance -on the right, and starting up, she asked, "Is not that thunder?" -adding, "let us go on quickly, I pray you, Sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, 'twas but the wind amongst the trees, lady," answered the man, -hardly moving a limb: but his assertion was contradicted a moment -after by a louder and a nearer peal.</p> - -<p class="normal">All was now bustle and hurry. The horses were prepared in haste, the -remnants of the meal packed up, and the whole party mounted. But -scarcely had Adelaide advanced a hundred yards, when a bright flash -broke across the path; and, ere she had gone half a mile, the rain -poured down in torrents. The leader of her little troop was now really -kind: often and anxiously he looked back towards her; would fain have -stripped himself of his cloak to defend her better from the large, -heavy drops that, as they fell, went through and through the gown of -black serge which she wore above her ordinary dress; and sent two men -away, to the right and left, to see if they could find any cottage, or -woodman's hut, which would afford a covering from the storm. A shed -was at length discovered, and there two weary hours were passed, till -the lady declared, looking up to the sky, that she would rather -proceed, notwithstanding the continued rain, than delay her journey -longer. The leader of the troop was not unwilling, and, after a short -pause, they again began their march, and proceeded for a mile, or -somewhat more, uninterrupted. The rain still poured upon their heads, -and, far from affording any shelter, the trees seemed but to collect -the water amongst the branches, and then let it fall in larger drops -upon the travellers as they passed. But at length they seemed to -approach the verge of the wood; for, through the avenue of tall -beeches which they were now pursuing, Adelaide could see an open field -of green corn, with some shrubs and scattered brushwood beyond again, -though the grey film of heavy drops, which hung like a thin curtain -over all the distant objects, prevented her from distinguishing -anything clearly. It was evident, however, that the leader of the band -thought they were approaching a point of some danger; for he sent on -one of his horsemen a little in advance, to reconnoitre the ground, -and followed more slowly, as if unwilling to advance till he had -received intelligence. The man returned in a minute at full speed, and -said something, in a low tone, which the lady did not distinctly hear. -Instantly, however, the leader turned to her, exclaiming, "Ride back, -lady, with your woman. There are armed men in front, who, he thinks, -have seen him: ride back to the shed. We will--"</p> - -<p class="normal">But, ere he could finish his sentence, or Adelaide could ask any -questions, there was the sound of many horses' feet beating the plashy -ground at a quick pace; and, looking between the shoulders of the -horsemen who were in front, the lady saw a number of mounted men -coming rapidly down the road. All was, in a minute, confusion and -bustle: Adelaide's male companions hastening to spread out across the -road before her, at once to conceal her flight and to prevent pursuit. -Without waiting to see more, she drew her rein in terror, and urging -her horse into its quickest pace, dashed away till she reached the -narrow turning which led to the small woodman's shed, up which she -instantly directed her course, nor stopped till she saw the rough hut, -with its thatched roof raised upon six bare poles. There, however, she -paused, and looked behind, thinking that Bertha was following; but the -girl was not to be seen.</p> - -<p class="normal">The lady listened; but for a moment no sound was heard: then the quick -trampling of horses' feet reached her ear; and Adelaide fancied that -Bertha was coming; but the beasts and their riders passed by the end -of the little path,--at least she believed that they must have done -so, for no one appeared, and the sounds grew gradually fainter and -more faint, till at length they died away. The poor girl's heart sank. -What had become of her companions? she thought; what had become of -Bertha? Had they met with her father's soldiery, and been routed and -driven back? and was she left there, in the midst of the wood, alone, -and without help or guidance? Every fearful image that fancy could -call up presented itself to her mind; and, though Adelaide was not -faint-hearted, yet, for a time, her courage failed at the thought of -all that might occur to her under such circumstances. She struggled -against her terrors, indeed,--she would not dwell upon the dangers; -and she was nerving her mind to consider calmly what it was best for -her to do, when again the trampling sound of horse was heard; and, -leaving the beast that bore her, under the woodman's shed, she drew -back amongst the trees, and listened. The next moment a loud voice -exclaimed, as if shouting to some distant companions, "Here; the hoofs -have turned up here. Come on, come on!"</p> - -<p class="normal">It was evidently not one of the party which had accompanied her from -the abbey who was now seeking her, for they knew whither she had gone; -and the lady drew further back, still hiding herself amongst the wet -trees and bushes, yet leaving herself just room to see what passed on -the open spot around the shed. The boughs had hardly ceased waving -where she had pushed them aside, when, first a single soldier, -leading his horse by the bridle, appeared, and then two or three -others, mounted. Their faces were strange to her; they were none of -the men of Ehrenstein; but that they were seeking her, soon seemed -clear, for one of them exclaimed, "Ah, here's the girl's horse--take -care; don't frighten it;" and, bending down low, behind the bushes, -Adelaide remained as still as death; but with a beating heart. What -more was said she did not hear, though the men remained some time, and -seemed to converse eagerly: but that which appeared most strange was, -that, as far as she could see, they made no attempt to search the -copses around; and at length, mounting their horses again, rode -quietly, but quickly, away.</p> - -<p class="normal">For several minutes, she did not venture to raise her head; but when -at length she did so, and looked towards the shed, she saw that the -jennet which had brought her thither was gone. At first her brain -seemed to swim with terror, and her knees shook violently. Alone, -in a part of the country which she did not know, without any means -of proceeding but such as her own weary and trembling limbs -afforded--surrounded, perhaps, by those who were seeking to carry her -to an imprisonment which would almost be worse than death--or in the -midst of wild, lawless bands, which were but too numerous in those -days,--with night fast approaching, and no shelter near but the wide -wood, what was she to do?--whither was she to go?--where could she -find refuge?</p> - -<p class="normal">Such agonizing thoughts rushed rapidly through her mind, and it was -long ere she could calm herself sufficiently to reflect upon any plan -of action. At length, however, she remembered the green corn which she -had seen growing at the opening of the road, and she thought, too, -that her eyes had rested upon the foliage of the vine. Such signs of -cultivation implied the proximity of some careful hands, and as these -things recurred to her, hope began to revive.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will wait," she said, at length, "till night begins to fall, and -then quietly find my way forward, and seek out the peasant's dwelling -who has tilled those fields. Though rude, the boors are kind-hearted; -and I am sure they will give me shelter for the night, and, perhaps, -help me on my way to-morrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">She seated herself, therefore; and, though still grieved, anxious, and -sad, confidence in some degree returned. She prayed, and her heart -felt strengthened and comforted. The nightingale broke out into song, -in a tree overhead. A timid hare ran along before her--paused, and -stood erect with lifted ears--ran on--paused again and listened more -than once before it was lost to her sight; and Adelaide thought, "Why -should not I, frightened, and in danger, like this poor beast, follow -its example, and make my way forward with the same careful caution?"</p> - -<p class="normal">She resolved to do so; and rising, she crept back to the small path -that led from the woodman's shed to the wider road which she had -lately been travelling, and then gazed along it as far as the eye -could reach. Nothing was visible; though in the cool evening light, -with the sun just upon the horizon, shining out from beneath the -exhausted clouds, she could see clearly as far as a spot about two -hundred yards in advance, where the path, taking a turn, was lost -amongst the trees. With a cautious step she went on, pausing to listen -every minute, till she gained a sight of the continuation of the -little way. All was still clear; but yet she feared to trust herself -in the wider road, which she could now perceive crossing the path she -was following; and, drawing somewhat back behind an oak, she watched -eagerly for a moment or two, while the sun sank, the rosy light that -tinged the clouds overhead died away, and the grey shadow of the -coming night was cast upon the earth.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must go on," she said to herself; but still she dreaded to do so, -and did not move, till suddenly a tall hart came slowly trotting down -the road, passed the end of the path in which she was, after standing -for a moment to gaze, as if considering which way he should take, and -disappeared in the very direction in which she was proceeding.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is no one there," thought the poor girl; "the beast's instinct -shall serve my weaker sense, and give me courage to go on."</p> - -<p class="normal">Without further hesitation she went upon her way, turned up the road -to the right, and followed it quickly, for the light was failing fast. -Night had completely closed in ere the trees ended; and she found -herself standing by a field of green corn, with what seemed a little -patch of vineyard on a slope beyond, and a dim line of trees farther -forward still. The stars were out in the sky above, for by this time -the stormy clouds had cleared away; but there was, in the scene, a -pleasanter light to the eye of the poor wanderer, than even the -twinkling lamps of heaven. At some distance to the right, were seen a -number of what she concluded were cottage windows, with rays, as if -from fires or candles within, streaming forth upon the darkness; and, -at her side, she saw the commencement of a path, apparently leading, -to the village or hamlet.</p> - -<p class="normal">She was very weary; but that sight gave her strength; and, with a -quickened pace, she hurried on. The lights grew more distinct as she -advanced, and she caught a faint glimpse of the buildings before her. -There were cottages, evidently, and a little church; but a larger -and more imposing edifice appeared on the left. It might be a -stronghold--it might be a monastery or convent; and Adelaide tried to -recollect all she had heard of the places in the neighbourhood, in -order to divine what the building could be that now rose before her -eyes, towering higher over the trees every step, as she came nearer. -She knew not, however, how far she had gone, or what direction she had -taken, and she only puzzled herself with conjectures, till she arrived -at the first house of the village, which stood a little in advance of -those tall walls, from which no light proceeded. From two windows of -the lesser building, indeed, the friendly rays were streaming -plentifully; and Adelaide determined to pause there, and ask for -shelter; but she found some difficulty in approaching it. It was a -small house, within a garden, apparently neither the cottage of a -peasant, nor the dwelling of a farmer; for there was a low wall round -the garden, and that wall, again, was surrounded by a foss, full of -water. It did not seem, indeed, defensible against any large force; -but it was, at all events, guarded against the sudden attack of -maurauders; and Adelaide thought she could see the wall winding along -till it joined that of the larger building behind. On the side next to -her she could find no entrance, nor any means of passing the moat; but -when she had walked on, round the angle of the wall, there appeared a -little wooden bridge, and a door, with the masonry raised several feet -on either side, so that no one approaching by the bridge could leap -over into the garden. By the side of the door was the large iron -pulley of a bell; but the young wanderer paused, doubting whether she -should ring there, or go on to one of the cottages a little further up -the hill. She was very weary, however; her limbs felt powerless; her -heart was faint; and with a feeling like despair, she put forth her -hand and rang the bell.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next minute she heard a door open within the enclosure, and a step -cross the garden. Then a wooden shutter was drawn back from before a -small aperture in the gate, barred with iron; and a voice asked, "Who -is there?"</p> - -<p class="normal">It was a woman's tongue; and oh, how sweetly it sounded in Adelaide's -ears!</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have lost my way in the wood," she replied, "and have suffered -much. I am wet, weary, and faint, and I pray you give me shelter for -the night, in Our Lady's name."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Are you alone, poor thing?" asked the woman.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Quite," answered the lady: "I was not alone in truth, for I had some -men from the abbey of--" She paused, and omitting the name, went -on--"from the abbey, with me and my maid; but we were met by an armed -band, who attacked us, and I fled. Since then I have wandered on, and -know not where I am."</p> - -<p class="normal">The woman uttered a short exclamation, as of surprise; but she opened -the door quickly, and Adelaide, the moment after, stood in a little -garden pleasantly laid out in walks covered over with vines trained -upon poles.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"Your steps totter, poor child," said the woman who opened the gate to -Adelaide; "here, lean upon my arm; but first let me make fast the -door. We live in strange bad times; but here you will be safe, if -there is safety to be found; for no one will venture to assail the -Convent of the Holy Cross, or those who live beneath its walls."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide made no reply; for there are moments when the motives for -exertion having ceased, the very relief from terror and anxiety is in -itself overpowering, and the corporeal frame yields at the instant of -deliverance to the weight it had borne up under during the period of -peril. She perceived by a faint light, which streamed from the half -open door of the house, that the person who spoke to her was not -habited in the garb of a nun, although she mentioned the convent as -her assurance of security; but Adelaide could ask no question, make no -reply. Everything seemed indistinct and misty; the gardens, with the -rays from the windows and the door pouring in long lines through the -green leaves of the vine, swam before her eyes; her limbs lost their -power, her tongue clove to her mouth, and it was with difficulty that, -aided even by the woman's arm, she reached the threshold of the house. -Her companion pushed the door further open; and supported her up the -little step, but at the top the poor girl leaned more heavily still -upon her guide's arm, and the next instant sank gradually, and even -slowly, down to the ground; while the old woman held her up as well as -she could, calling to some one within for assistance.</p> - -<p class="normal">In an instant two other figures were added to the group, one coming -from a room on the right hand, and another from the back of the house. -The former was that of a lady, perhaps forty years of age, though she -looked somewhat older; for her dress was not one calculated to conceal -the effects of time, or to set off the lingering beauties that years -had spared, to the greatest advantage. It was all of black, except the -head gear, which was snowy white, and brought far down over the broad -fair brow, almost entirely hiding the hair. The colours were those -common to many orders of nuns; and there was something in the form of -the dress itself which was in a degree conventual, so that, at first -sight, one might have taken her for a recluse; but at the second -glance one detected many differences from the garb of any established -sisterhood. There was no actual veil, a small portion of the hair was -seen; there were rings upon the fingers, and though a cross and rosary -were hanging at the girdle, there was a locket round the neck, hanging -by a gold chain. The other person seemed a superior servant; but poor -Adelaide saw none of those things, and when first she opened her eyes -again, she found herself in a small chamber furnished with much taste -and some luxury. There was tapestry on the walls, not representing -figures, as was so frequently the case; but divided into panels by -tall columns worked in the web and covered with arabesques, while in -the centre of each panel appeared an exquisitely executed group of -flowers. All the moveable furniture was formed of some dark wood -beautifully carved, and the sombre hue of the material was relieved by -rich crimson velvet here and there, while a fine mirror, and two small -but beautiful pictures of the very early school, which began, or -perhaps I may almost say preceded, the revival of the arts, were -sustained against the walls by poles of iron gilt thrust through the -tapestry. As the poor girl recovered more fully, she saw an elderly -woman-servant kneeling at the end of the bed on which she was laid, -assiduously rubbing her feet, while over her bent a face which seemed -to her almost that of an angel, and a soft hand bathed her temple with -some fine essences.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thank you. Oh, thank you," she said, as soon as she could speak; "how -kind you are."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush!" said the lady of the house; "not a word at present, my dear -child. You will soon be well again, and then you shall speak. Bring a -little wine, Biancha, and some dry garments, for these are still wet."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide took her hand and pressed it in her own; and the servant -hastened away for the things she had been ordered to procure. The -nun's gown which Adelaide had worn throughout the day had been already -taken off, and she now lay in the ordinary dress of a woman of high -rank, which was more distinctly marked from the garments of the lower -orders in those days than at present. Her station, therefore, could -not be doubted; but yet in the look of deep interest with which the -lady gazed upon her, there seemed something more than the mere -compassion which might well be felt for one accustomed to every -comfort and refinement, exposed suddenly to hardships, dangers, and -fatigues, and sinking under them. It was a long, thoughtful, wistful -look that she fixed upon her. It seemed to scan her face, and ask deep -questions of her heart and mind. It was rather, as if it said, what is -beneath that lovely countenance? what spirit is within that graceful -form? than merely, what are you? what is your name and place in the -cold order of this world's classes? But when the poor girl pressed her -hand, and looked up with eyes full of petition as well as thanks, the -lady smiled sweetly; and yet some drops gathered in her eyes, and one -or two rolled over and bedewed her cheek. Then, bending down her -head--perhaps in some degree to hide the tears--she kissed the marble -forehead that lay beneath her eyes, and whispered, "You will soon be -better.--Hush!--Be patient for a while; we will talk more anon."</p> - -<p class="normal">The voice was very musical, soft, low, and sweet, with a slight -foreign accent; but still so expressive of kindness and tenderness, -that had it even used an unknown language, Adelaide would have -understood right well its tones of sympathy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am well, now, indeed," she murmured; "and I must thank you from my -heart, dear lady, for your kindness."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fie!" said her companion; "if you would thank me really, lie still -till you have taken some nourishment. Then you shall speak, and tell -me all that has befallen you. Oh! here is Biancha--Now take a little -wine. Dip a morsel of bread in it first, and swallow that. Then sip -the rest. It will not do you harm."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide followed her directions, shaking her head, however, with a -smile, and saying, "It was not food I wanted, but rest and peace."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Peace!" said the lady, with a melancholy look; "is there such a thing -on earth? Alas! my child--"</p> - -<p class="normal">But she did not finish the sentence; and after her fair guest had -taken the wine, she aided the maid to change the wet garments, and put -on some loose clothing for her, which, if it fitted not quite well, at -least felt warm and comforting.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now lie and rest," said the lady, "and tell me how this has been. The -girl who let you in says, that you were travelling under the guard of -some men from the abbey--What abbey did she mean?--that near -Ehrenstein?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The same," answered Adelaide; but she paused there and hesitated, -looking at the maid.</p> - -<p class="normal">The lady seemed to comprehend her hesitation at once, and said, "Leave -us, Biancha;" and when she was gone, she added, "You might trust her, -my child. She is faithful and true--ay, and discreet, as she has -proved herself through many a year. And so you separated from your -guides, and lost your way in the foul day we have had? How did that -happen?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"At the edge of the wood, hard by," answered Adelaide, not anxious to -be questioned too closely upon other subjects, "they saw a party of -armed men, who seemed about to attack them; and they told me, with the -maid, to ride back and wait at a woodman's shed, where we had found -shelter some time before from the storm. I rode away in terror, -thinking that Bertha followed; but--how or why, I know not--she never -came. I fear the men of the abbey were attacked and discomfited, for I -heard horses galloping furiously past, as if in flight and pursuit; -and soon after they came up towards the place where I was, and I fled -amongst the trees, on foot, and watched them from behind the bushes. -They did not seek for me far; but took away my horse, which I had left -standing, weary, there. Thus it was that I was forced to find my way -onward alone, with night coming on."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And whither were you going, my child?" asked the lady, gazing at her -face somewhat earnestly.</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide hesitated, but she could not well evade the question; and she -answered at length, in a low tone, "To Heiligenstein, lady."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And who sent you thither?" was the next question.</p> - -<p class="normal">"One of the good Fathers of the abbey," replied Adelaide, "who has -been very kind to me and mine. His name is Father George."</p> - -<p class="normal">The lady instantly cast her arms around her, and kissed her tenderly. -"You are at Heiligenstein, my child," she whispered; "and it was to me -that George of Altenburg sent you. Rest in peace, dear Adelaide; rest -in peace. You are with a mother."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide returned her embrace gratefully; but then raised her eyes, -and gazed inquiringly in the lady's face. Strange, mingled emotions -thrilled through her bosom, not to be told, not to be separated. She -saw a likeness to features that she knew and loved; she saw a likeness -in the expression; she saw it in the peculiar light of the eyes: The -tones of that lady's voice, too, were like his; and she had said to -her, his bride, "You are with a mother." "But yet how could that be?" -she asked herself. Ferdinand's mother had been long dead, she had been -told; he himself believed that it was so. Even Father George, when -revealing to her much of his history (more, indeed, than her lover -knew himself), had never mentioned the existence of that parent; and -yet there was something which made Adelaide still believe that she was -indeed with the mother of him she loved. To hear the lady call Father -George by the name which he had long ceased to use, did not surprise -her at all; for both from words which he had himself spoken, and from -the contemptuous epithet which her father had applied to Ferdinand, -she was already aware that the monk was a member of that high house; -but all her thoughts turned to the one question, Who was the kind and -gentle being that sat beside her?</p> - -<p class="normal">What is like thought? Nothing that ever was created or devised. Rapid -as the lightning, but yet not like it; not one broad glare -extinguished as soon as seen, but full of combinations, rushing -through innumerable channels, working out a thousand permanent -results. Though in its process and celerity of operation, it has been -well called "the lightning of the mind," it can, in all its -attributes, be compared to nothing that earth has seen. All that I -have related, and much more, passed through Adelaide's mind, and yet -it required but the short interval occupied by the return of the -caress which the lady gave her, for her thus to commune with herself. -The pause was but momentary, and then the lady added, as if she had -hardly stopped, "I will be to you as a mother, dear child."</p> - -<p class="normal">Those few words rendered all the poor girl's conclusions once more -vague and undefined. It might be but a form of speech she had used, -Adelaide thought; and Adelaide mused.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And are you like your father?" asked the lady at length; after having -gazed for a minute or two on the countenance of the fair creature -before her, while the long, dark lashes of the downcast eyes rested on -her cheek as she meditated.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not know," answered Adelaide, looking suddenly up. "You do not -know him, then?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never saw him," replied the lady, thoughtfully, and even gravely; -but after a moment she went on--"We will ask each other no more -questions, dear girl. Here you can stay in safety and peace. That is -enough for the present; all the rest will soon be explained; and -between two agitated and apprehensive hearts, like Yours and mine, it -is better only to speak of things that may tranquillize and reassure -us."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And are you, too, agitated and apprehensive?" asked Adelaide. "How, -then, can I rest here in peace?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Agitated! ay, and full of fears, I am, indeed," answered the lady; -"but they are not such as affect you, my child. If it is for Ferdinand -you fear, doubt not that he is safe, for I have had assurance of it; -if for yourself, set your mind at rest, for though this house may seem -but an insecure asylum against the pursuit of those who would take you -hence, yet, first, they know not where you are; and next, by the side -of the very bed on which you lie, is a door that leads at once within -the convent walls. That place is holy, and those walls are strong. If -there be men daring enough to try to force them, there is power at -hand to resist. Now, my child, I will leave you to repose; for it is -that which you most need. Sleep--and Heaven's best benison be upon -you!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Carefully and kindly the lady shaded the lamp, but left it still -burning, placed a little silver bell by Adelaide's side, and assuring -her that if she needed aught, she had but to ring, and it would be -instantly brought to her, she kissed her with motherly tenderness, and -left her.</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide leaned her head upon her hand; but her thoughts were all -bewildered with the events just passed. There are moments when the -mind is too busy for sleep to still its wild activity, but when the -agitation of the heart renders thought vain and fruitless. She could -not think,--she could not sleep: she could only feel. She was then, -for the first time, absent from her father's dwelling. She was the -bride of a single day, with her bridegroom absent she knew not where. -She was a fugitive among strangers, who were kind and gentle to her; -but who they were she knew not. She had passed through dangers and -fatigues such as she had never endured before; and who could say when -they might be renewed? How could she either sleep or think when such -impressions were all fresh upon her? and there she lay till hour after -hour had passed by,--till the convent bell sounded midnight, and all -seemed still and at rest but the heavy marker of the passing time. -Just then, however, she heard a dull sound like the trampling of -horses, and terror began to take possession of her again. The sound -came nearer and more near, and she stretched out her hand to ring the -bell which had been left by her side, when suddenly rose up a strain -of rich harmony in the midst of the darkness and stillness of the -night. Adelaide heard but little of the lay, but thus sang a number of -wild but fine voices, as the cavalcade passed by:-- -<div class="poem1"> - -<h4>SONG.</h4> - -<p class="t0">"The world's all at peace, and the sunshiny earth</p> -<p class="t1">Is teeming with riches and joy;</p> -<p class="t0">And each passing minute to pleasure gives birth,</p> -<p class="t2">And manhood's as gay as the boy.</p> -<p class="t5" style="text-indent:-10px">"Now hark to the sound<br> -Of the horn and the hound,</p> -<p class="t5" style="text-indent:1em">As they waken the valley and wood:--</p> -<p class="t3">Hide your head, hide your head,<br> -From the march of the dead!</p> -<p class="t0">'Tis the giant Black Huntsman is riding afar;<br> -'Tis the blast of the trumpet,--the grim dogs of war;</p> -<p class="t2">And the land shall be deluged in blood:</p> -<p class="t0" style="text-indent: 10em">Hide your head!"</p> -</div> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">It was a gloomy meal, the dinner at the castle of Ehrenstein; and -would have been gloomier still, had it not been for the presence of -one of those persons who in that age were privileged to mingle jest, -if not mirth, with every event of life's chequered course, and make -the wedding or the funeral alike the occasion of their wild satire. A -number of the troops of Leiningen had gone forth to scour the country -round in pursuit of the fugitive Baron of Eppenfeld; but Count -Frederick himself had been persuaded, somewhat more easily than his -host had expected, to remain till after the mid-day meal. A few -courteous entreaties were all that the frank old nobleman required; -and whether they were sincere or not, he evidently received them as -such, saying that he could well trust his good riders to trap an old -fox, though it might have grown grey in its cunning; but that, if they -had not succeeded by two hours after noon, he would mount himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">All was hurry and confusion during the morning, however; and the -castle looked more like a fortress, the garrison of which expected -immediate attack, than the dwelling of a high noble in a time of -peace. Parties were hourly coming in or going forth, messengers -arrived or were despatched continually, and even the hall and the -festive board were not free from business and importunity. The brow of -the Count of Ehrenstein remained as black as night; nothing could move -his lip to a smile; and as he sat at the head of the table in the -lesser hall, with a greatly diminished party around, his very look -spread gloom over the feast, and saddened the gayest hearts present.</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Frederick strove to comfort and console him; but the Lord of -Ehrenstein heard his words in silence, or replied in monosyllables. -The priest ate the rich food and drank the fine wine, without -venturing more than a few words in praise of both; the knights sat -round, and partook of their good cheer, with only a whisper amongst -themselves now and then; and no one spoke but the jester, who, as -usual, held on his captious course, as if nothing had occurred to -interrupt the merriment; or, at least, as if he were in utter -ignorance that such had been the case.</p> - -<p class="normal">Those were days of privilege, when every prescriptive right, however -ridiculous and sometimes iniquitous it might be, was reverenced as a -part of a great system; and even the privilege of the jester was held -so sacred, that any man who ventured to show serious anger at what he -might say, would have been considered either as a fool or a tyrant. -Thus our friend, on the present occasion, ventured, without the least -fear, to touch upon all those subjects which were most painful to the -master of the dwelling; sometimes wondering if the Lady Adelaide fared -as well in the fields as they did in the castle, sometimes choosing to -suppose that Ferdinand of Altenburg must have gained a goodly appetite -by his early walk.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length he exclaimed, looking round, "How silent you are, noble -cousins! I know that it proceeds from your admiration for my rich -talk; so, to improve your manners, I will give you a lecture upon -morals. What is the cause of young men getting into all sorts of -mischief? Answer, or I will answer for you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Want of sense," replied Count Frederick: "it can be nothing else."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Wrong, uncle--ever wrong," cried the jester; "for then would old men -get into mischief, too. God love you! there is as little sense under a -grey beard as under a brown one, and more than either under none at -all. Look you now, the Lady Adelaide has more sense than her father, -though she has no beard, and he has a long one; and then he has more -sense than I have, and his beard is but grey, while mine is white. Try -again, uncle, try again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have you now," answered the Count: "it is want of experience, you -would say."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Wrong once more," answered the jester. "See you not that those who -have had most experience still do foolish things. Who would have -thought that an armed lord, with well nigh five hundred men in his -train, would have trusted sundry sacks of gold to be carried by -peaceful merchants, when he could have brought it himself? No, no, -uncle: 'tis the great fault of all men--want of faith."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, but, Herr von Narren, this is a lecture on religion, not on -morals, then," replied his lord.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not a whit, not a whit," cried the jester. "Want of faith in all -things is bad; but I dabble not with religion. Let the cobbler stick -to his awl: I am a moralist and philosopher, not a priest; and yet I -say it is want of faith that gets young men into mischief; for, did we -believe what those who have tried tell those who have not tried, we -should 'scape many a danger. But we never do believe in this world; we -always think that we shall be better off than our neighbours, and -therefore wish to try for ourselves. Is not that morality for you now? -And see how it is proved every day. Cage your bird for its own good, -and it will beat itself to death to get out; or, leave the door open -for a minute, and it flies away to be pecked to death by the first -hawk it meets. Is it not so, good Count of Ehrenstein?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Faith! I do not know," replied the Count; "but this I do know, that -if some birds, who have escaped from <i>my</i> cage, fall into my hands -again, I will wring their heads off."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So do men get bloody fingers," answered the jester; "but, after all, -who is there among us that has not some stain upon his hand? No one -except myself, I warrant. There is a lily palm, with not a drop of -Christian blood upon it; and as for the gore of a few stray Saracens, -that but cleanses a man's fingers; as a farmer's maiden uses sand, -which is dirt, to scrub her father's floor."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count of Ehrenstein's brow had become doubly dark, but he ventured -to give no other sign of his anger at the words of a mere jester; and -turning to a man who entered, booted and spurred, just at the -conclusion of Herr von Narren's speech, he inquired, "Well, what news? -Are there any tidings of them?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"None, my good lord," answered the man; "all the world are so busy -with other thoughts, that they seem to have paid no attention to -anything but one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, and what is that one?" said Count Frederick, turning to the -messenger also.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, the Black Huntsman is out again, my lord," said the man; "and -old Seckendorf sent me back to let my lord know that all the country -is ringing with his doings. He rode all the way down the valley last -night, and some say, went down to the Rhine, while others will have -it, that he turned towards Zweibrücken."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then we must make ready for war, I suppose," replied Count Frederick; -"but is the news quite sure?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, quite," answered the messenger; "we counted more than a hundred -horses' feet all the way along the dusty old road upon the top of the -hills."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did they stop at the abbey?" asked the Count of Ehrenstein, with a -sneering smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, my lord; they left it far to the left," was the man's answer, -"keeping along amongst the hills, until we lost them in the wood, some -six miles off."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, let it come," said the Count musing, and speaking rather to -what was passing in his own thoughts, than in reference to anything -that had been said by others; "let it come. It shall go hard, if the -tide of war flows through this valley, but that one of the waves shall -sweep away the walls of the abbey--ay, and all that are within;" he -muttered between his teeth.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord, my lord!" cried a man, who was seated near the window; "here -comes news at length, or I am mistaken. Some one galloping like mad up -from the bridge."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Bring him up quick, as soon as he arrives," cried the Count of -Ehrenstein, turning to the attendants behind him; and the meal resumed -its course for a few minutes; though few of those principally -interested in the events which had taken place during that morning and -the preceding night, showed any great appetite for the dainties before -them.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, quick steps were heard in the outer chamber, and the two -Counts turned their faces towards the door with the eager look of -expectation. Some of the servants of the castle were the first that -appeared; but immediately behind them was a stranger, dressed in the -garb of the middle orders, and offering nothing very remarkable, -either in his person or apparel. The Count of Ehrenstein, as was not -unusual with him, fixed his eyes for a moment on the new comer, -without speaking. It seemed, as if he loved to question men's faces, -and to read the character in the countenance before he ventured -anything in words himself. It is not an unfrequent habit with all men -of dark and subtle natures; but before he could speak on the present -occasion, the person who thus sought his presence, looked inquiringly -from his countenance to that of Count Frederick of Leiningen, and then -asked, "Which is the Count of Ehrenstein?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am he," replied the Count; "what would you with me, Sir?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I bring you this letter, my lord," answered the man; "I was told to -deliver it with all speed."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count took it, gazed thoughtfully at the superscription, and then -raising his eyes to the man's face, demanded, "Who gave you this?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Faith! my good lord, I do not know," replied the man; "it was a young -gentleman, of a fair countenance, and a good bearing, some twenty -years of age or so; and he gave me ten crowns out of his purse, to -carry it to you with all speed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Had he any one with him? Was he on foot or on horseback?" inquired -the Count.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Quite alone, my lord," answered the man; "but he rode as fine a horse -as ever carried knight or noble."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count made no observation, but opened the letter and read. Then -laying it down upon the table by his side, he laid his hand upon it, -and seemed lost in thought; but after a moment, he pushed the paper -over to Count Frederick, saying, "Read, my friend, read; for it -concerns you too. Methinks this youth is bold, or else backed by means -we know not of."</p> - -<p class="normal">Without reply, Count Frederick took the letter, and read as follows:--</p> - -<p class="center">"<span class="sc">Ferdinand of Altenburg to the Count of Ehrenstein,<br> -with humble and respectful greeting.</span></p> - -<p style="text-indent:4em">"<span class="sc">My Lord the Count</span>,</p> - -<p class="normal">"Finding myself in peril within the walls of your castle, and doubting -that you would give me other judgment than that of your own court, -which, as a stranger of noble birth, not born upon the lands of -Ehrenstein, I am not lawfully subject to, I have thought fit to take -such means of escape as were at hand, and have used them to good -purpose. Nevertheless, I wish you to know that in thus flying from the -castle of Ehrenstein, I have no will or purpose to escape from fair -trial and judgment of my guilt or innocence, by a free and open court -of knights or gentlemen of good degree, and that I am ready to submit -myself to such, in any sure place, when I shall be certified that I -shall have impartial judgment. I am now upon the lands of Leiningen, -and will there remain, claiming protection of that noble prince, the -Count Frederick, but ready at all times to appear before a court -summoned anywhere within his jurisdiction, and consisting, in at least -one-half, of persons who are not retainers of the Count of Ehrenstein. -To their decree, I shall bow without appeal, in all matters between -you and me, provided you also pledge yourself to abide by their -decision, whatever it may be.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A summons to appear, according to the terms of this letter, with the -guarantee of Count Frederick, that they shall be duly observed, will -meet my eye, if hung upon the gates of the castle of Hardenberg, and I -will appear accordingly, at the place and time appointed."</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was the tenor of the letter now laid before Count Frederick of -Leiningen; and after he had read it, he mused several minutes without -commenting upon its contents, till an impatient "Well!" from the Count -of Ehrenstein roused him from his reverie.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You think the letter bold, Ehrenstein," he said; "but in this you are -not impartial. To me it seems fair enough. One who is willing to -submit himself to the free judgment of unbiassed men, can be conscious -of no great wrong."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count of Ehrenstein clenched his hand tight as it lay upon the -table, till the veins and sinews seemed starting through the skin, and -he muttered between his teeth, "You too, Leiningen!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Frederick took no notice of the reproachful words; but calmly -inquired, "What say you, my good friend? Will you accept the terms?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your wishing me to do so, my lord the Count," replied the master of -the castle somewhat sternly, "shows that you are not disposed to act -the more friendly part, and aid me in hunting down the treacherous -hound, as I would do with you in similar circumstances. Think you, -that if a follower of your house had injured you as deeply as this -youth has injured me, that I would not pursue him through my lands -till I had caught him, and then give him up to you, to deal with at -your pleasure?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I would not ask you, Ehrenstein," replied Count Frederick, coldly; -"justice and fair dealing have ever been my motto. He offers to submit -to justice, and I will have no hand in refusing it to him. If you will -accept his terms, well; I will name four honest men to judge him, and -you shall name an equal number. Doubt not, if he have committed the -crime with which you charge him, they will pronounce due sentence on -him, and I will see it executed; but if he can free himself of the -charge, God give him good deliverance! Once more, what say you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"What must be, must be," answered the Count; "and as I can have no -better, I will take these terms."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then," replied Count Frederick, rising, "I will see that notice -be duly given on the gates of my castle of Hardenberg, and will -appoint what place and hour you may think fit. When shall it be, and -where?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count of Ehrenstein thought for a moment or two, and then said, -"To-morrow, at midnight, if you will. Then for the place--you know the -large old chapel, half way between Hardenberg and Mosbach."</p> - -<p class="normal">"At midnight!" said Count Frederick, in a tone of much surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, at midnight," answered the Count of Ehrenstein; "I cannot well be -there before, my good friend. I have another fugitive to seek and -find."</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Frederick's brow grew rather clouded, for he had doubts which he -did not choose to express; but merely bowing his head in silent -acquiescence, he left the hall with his followers; and ere another -hour had passed, he and his train were riding down the hill, away from -Ehrenstein.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Imbibing somewhat of the spirit of the age whereof I write, I have, -perhaps, in this true history, neglected to a certain degree the -inferior persons of the tale, keeping myself among lords and ladies, -counts and barons, to the exclusion from consideration of not less -worthy and serviceable people; but the events at which I am now -arrived, require me absolutely to descend from this high elevation, -and to notice the fate of one whom, in a former part of the story, I -have spoken of with some partiality.</p> - -<p class="normal">It will not be difficult for the reader to recollect, that when -Adelaide of Ehrenstein fled in terror towards the woodman's shed, she -imagined that her maid Bertha was following as fast as 'the four legs -of her horse would carry her, and that soon after she discovered, to -her consternation and surprise, that such was not the case. What -became of Bertha in the mean time? In truth, the good gay girl had -every inclination in the world to do as she was told; but, -nevertheless, she did not follow her mistress ten steps; for, in the -hurry and confusion of the moment, while endeavouring to extricate -herself from the men and horses that were pressing to the front in -order to favour the lady's escape, the long nun's gown, with which she -was covered, caught in one of the large stirrup-irons of those days, -and pulled her from her horse, as the beast hurried on in the -direction which had been given to it.</p> - -<p class="normal">She fell heavily, and was somewhat confused and stunned by the -concussion, so that a moment or two went by without her being aware of -anything that passed around. She felt herself raised from the earth, -however, heard a number of voices speaking, saw various indistinct -objects moving quickly about, and, as sense began to return fully, -beheld a party of armed men surrounding her companions of the way and -herself, although the body which had quitted the abbey in the morning, -seemed to be diminished by two or three.</p> - -<p class="normal">The first words which she heard clearly, were pronounced in a loud but -melodious tone, and were as follows:--"Pursue them quickly, and bring -them back. Seek for the girl's horse also. We must know what all this -means."</p> - -<p class="normal">Looking up in the direction of the sounds, Bertha beheld a tall, -powerful man on horseback, some five or ten yards before her, with -fifteen or sixteen other gentlemen; some fully armed according to the -custom of the day, but others in the garb of peace. Round about, and -in the open space behind, were not less than two or three hundred -soldiers, but the principal personage of the whole, he who had spoken, -displayed no arms whatever, except the ordinary sword and dagger. He -was clothed in a loose coat of buff leather, trimmed with rich fur, -and embroidered with gold thread in various quaint devices. Some -careful and laborious needle had worked all over it the figures of -birds, and flowers, and leaves, of syrens and armed men, and stags, -and hounds, and mermaids; and on his head he wore a bonnet of crimson -velvet, and a high plume of feathers, white as snow. His age might be -between forty and fifty, but his beard and hair were black as jet, and -his teeth white and fine. His countenance was pleasing, though there -was something of a cold and sarcastic smile upon it, and the air with -which he sat his horse was graceful but somewhat haughty. For a minute -or two he said no more; but continued to gaze over the heads of those -before him down the road into the wood, then turning his horse with a -light hand, he exclaimed: "Wait, Rudolph, till they have brought those -men back, then follow me, bringing them with you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Leading the way onward at the head of the troop, the person who had -spoken pursued the same course which the party at the abbey had been -taking. About fifty of his followers remained behind, guarding those -who might now be considered prisoners; and though a deep silence -succeeded to the great man's departure, Bertha, whose tongue was not -under the most strict control, ventured at length to ask the man next -her, "Who was that who has just ridden away?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The person she addressed was one of her fellow-captives, and he -answered in a low voice, "The Emperor, going to Spires, they say."</p> - -<p class="normal">He immediately relapsed into silence, and Bertha's brain began to -revolve the circumstances in which she was placed, and to inquire -whether there was no chance of her being able to extract good out of -evil, and to turn her captivity to some advantage. There were -difficulties, however, which she saw not how to overcome: for, in the -very first instance, she knew not what to do in regard to her fair -mistress. "If I leave her in the wood, poor simple thing," said Bertha -to herself, "Heaven only knows what will become of her. She has not -wit nor experience enough to get herself out of a difficulty, and, -like a bird fresh from a cage, she will go fluttering about hither and -thither till she is starved to death, or pecked to pieces by birds of -prey. Then, again, if I tell these people where she is to be found, a -thousand to one they will send her back at once to her father, and -that will be worse than all. I wish to Heaven I could get a word with -the man he called Rudolph, just to see what stuff he is made off."</p> - -<p class="normal">A moment or two after, the sound of horses coming up the road was -heard, and Bertha, looking round, perceived several of the Emperor's -soldiers, bringing with them two of the men of the abbey, who had fled -some minutes before. The leader of the party which had remained to -guard the prisoners, saw the same objects, and pushed his horse a -little forward, till he was nearly by the girl's side. Taking -advantage of the opportunity, which she thought might not occur again, -Bertha drew near to him, saying: "My lord, I wish to speak with you."</p> - -<p class="normal">The only answer she obtained, however, was,--"Hold your tongue, pretty -mistress; I have nothing to do with this business. You must speak with -the Emperor, if you have anything to say."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But how can I speak with him, when he is not here?" cried the girl, -impatiently.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, he will talk with you at Spires," replied the officer; "he never -objects to see a pretty face, and I will tell him you want to speak to -him--there, hold your tongue now, for I cannot attend to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">In a few minutes after, the horse which Adelaide had ridden was -brought forward, and Bertha lifted on it without question or ceremony. -The men of the abbey were arranged in a line, a part of the Emperor's -guard went before, and the rest followed; and at a quick pace, they -pursued their way toward Spires, consoling themselves as best they -could.</p> - -<p class="normal">Night came on, not long after, and under the influence of darkness and -fatigue, Bertha's good spirits began to fail her sadly, and her light -heart to sink. Nevertheless, hour by hour went by, and it was not till -near midnight that the rising moon showed her some tall towers and -steeples, which indicated they were approaching Spires. By this time, -however, all power of talking had left her, and she could hardly sit -her horse. The gates of that large and then splendid city were closed -when the party reached them, and the few minutes that passed before -they were opened, seemed to poor Bertha an hour. Then came the long -and melancholy streets, lighted alone by an occasional moonbeam, or -the torch or lantern carried before some knight or citizen on his way -homeward from a late meeting. But at length a redder glare was seen at -the end of the streets by which they passed, and the watch fire of a -large party of soldiers showed the tall towers and massive walls of -the stupendous cathedral, with the cupola long since destroyed, -standing out harsh and severe against the starry sky.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can go no farther," said Bertha, in a faint voice to one of the men -who rode beside her; "I shall drop off my horse."</p> - -<p class="normal">"'Tis not far, 'tis not far to the Retscher," answered the man, -good-humouredly; "bear up a little, poor maiden, till you reach the -palace, and there you will be lodged comfortably, and well treated. I -will speak with Count Rudolph, who has a kind heart, though a rough -tongue."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he rode on; and in a few minutes after, the large massive -building called the Retscher, which served as the Imperial palace when -any of the Emperors visited Spires, appeared lighted by innumerable -flambeaux, stuck in large stone stands before the steps. Though the -hour was so late, all the courtly world seemed awake and busy; guards, -attendants, pages were moving about; persons in rich dresses were seen -coming in and going out of the various doors, and the weary head of -poor Bertha seemed to whirl in the midst of a gayer scene than she had -ever witnessed before, as she was detained for a few minutes before -the principal entrance, while the leader of the party, and one or two -of his companions went in.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, however, Count Rudolph, as he was called, appeared again, -and approaching the side of the tired girl's horse, lifted her off -himself, and aided her up the steps, saying, "You must repose and -refresh yourself to-night, fair lady; and the Emperor will see you -early to-morrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">Bertha could only reply by bowing her head; and, accompanying him into -the palace, was led up several flights of steps, and through numerous -passages, amidst servants and officers, till at length her conductor -stopped before an elderly man, who had been sitting playing at tables -with a page in one of the vestibules, but who instantly rose and bowed -respectfully.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where is the room for the lady?" asked the Count, quickly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The page will show it, my lord," answered the old man; and given over -to the guidance of a gay-looking good-humoured youth, Bertha was led -on to a small but comfortable chamber at the end of the gallery. She -saw that the young gentleman gazed at her, with a look of interest, -from time to time; and fully conscious of her own good looks, the -pretty maiden might not at any other time have failed to encourage his -young gallantry, but she was too weary even for a light word; and when -at length he lighted the lamp upon the table, and asked if he could do -aught else to serve her, she only answered, "I am very faint."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will bring you some wine in an instant, beautiful lady," he said; -and running away before she could decline, he soon returned with some -wine and bread, and dried fruits.</p> - -<p class="normal">He lingered as long as she would let him, pressed her to eat and -drink, and seemed very willing to assist at her toilet also; but at -length she contrived to send him away; and going back to his old -companion, he declared with all the wild enthusiasm and glowing -imagination of youth, that she was the loveliest creature that had -ever been created.</p> - -<p class="normal">Bertha slept well, and slept long; nor was it till some one tried to -open her door, which she had wisely locked, that she awoke on the -following morning. The early visitor who thus roused her, proved to be -a woman sent to give her assistance, but she was hardly dressed when -one of the attendants came to summon her to the Emperor's presence. -Bertha would fain have had more time to consider what she should say -or do, but none was allowed her; and, trusting to woman's ready wit, -she followed the man, who showed her a degree of deference and respect -which somewhat surprised her. Descending two flights of steps, she was -led to a door before which stood some armed men, and in a moment after -was introduced into a small cabinet, where sat the same high person -she had seen the day before, but with his head now uncovered, and a -loose robe of rich fur cast negligently over his shoulders. He rose as -she entered, and when the attendant had retired, advanced a step, -saying, "You wished to see me, lady.--But first tell me, is it true -that I see the daughter of my noble acquaintance, the Count of -Ehrenstein?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Bertha's heart sank; for if the Emperor were indeed a friend of the -Count of Ehrenstein, how would he judge, she asked herself, his -daughter's escape from her father's roof?--and what would be his -dealings with one who had aided and accompanied her in her flight? She -had but a moment to ask herself the question, for the Emperor -continued gazing on her, and then repeated the question almost -sternly.</p> - -<p class="normal">Bertha cast herself at his feet, and, giving way to awe and -apprehension, burst into tears, sobbing forth, "No, mighty Sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who are you then, pretty maiden?" asked the monarch, raising her, and -forcing her to sit down. "These men who were with you have been -telling my people a strange tale of doings somewhat rash and unruly in -the castle of Ehrenstein. I understood from them that you were the -Count's daughter; and, although it were not quite politic in me, -placed as I am, to countenance disobedience in a child towards a -parent, yet, in favour of your bright eyes, I would certainly -endeavour to mediate between you and the Count, should you be really -his daughter, and, at all events, would protect you from hardship or -violence; for I know that he is somewhat stern and severe, and has -little indulgence even for beauty and gentleness."</p> - -<p class="normal">His words gave new life to poor Bertha, who from time to time had -given the monarch a furtive glance through the tears, from a pair of -dark lustrous eyes, which might well win the admiration they seemed to -have excited; and seeing both that she had gained some advantage, and -that the Emperor was not in a mood, or of a character, to deal hardly -with her fair mistress, even if she were in his power, she resolved to -give him her own version of the story of Adelaide of Ehrenstein.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am not fit, Sire," she replied, rising, "to sit in such a presence -as this. Your officers have made a mistake in thinking that I am the -Lady Adelaide: I am but a very poor and humble companion of that lady, -and my proper place is at your Majesty's feet."</p> - -<p class="normal">She spoke gracefully and well; and, as she again knelt, the monarch -felt somewhat like the page, and thought he had seldom seen a lovelier -creature.</p> - -<p class="normal">He would fain have raised her again, however, saying, "Nay, nay: I -cannot bear you kneeling, pretty maid; and I must have a fair and free -confession of all that has past."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You shall have one as true as if this were a confessional, Sire," -replied Bertha, raising her eyes, with a ray of her old merriment -brightening her look; "but ere I rise, I must be promised absolution -full and entire."</p> - -<p class="normal">Woman accommodates herself to new scenes and circumstances more -quickly than man, and Bertha had already lost just sufficient of her -awe to leave her wits free to act, without diminishing in the least -her tone of respect. She had become familiarized with the presence of -the Emperor, without for a moment forgetting his station or her own; -and there are few things more engaging to that curious being, man, -than an air of confidence in his kindness and forbearance. I believe -the natural heart of man would lead him, like other beasts, to pursue -whatever flies--to crush whatever dreads him.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Emperor was like the rest of his species, and he was pleased with -the gay look that crossed the sad one, and with the confidence that -brightened the awe. "Well, well," he said, "you shall have full pardon -and absolution for all your pretty little sins, whatever they may -be--but rise, maiden, rise."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I would fain kneel still, Sire," answered Bertha: "I feel that it is -my right place in every way--as a humble subject in so high a -presence, as a penitent, as a petitioner."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, then," cried the monarch, taking her by both hands, and raising -her with gentle force, "I must make myself obeyed. Now tell me all -truly, and I promise you that if I can aid or befriend you, I will."</p> - -<p class="normal">Bertha did tell him all, sometimes in low tones of entreaty and -deprecation; sometimes with a gay smile, subdued and chastened by a -tear; sometimes an irrepressible jest at herself, at the world, at -woman's nature and weakness, half coquettish, half sad, would break -the even course of her tale; and while she went on, the monarch -listened thoughtfully, and with interest in the tale itself, but more -in the person who told it.</p> - -<p class="normal">When she had done, he answered, "I must think over this; but for your -sake, sweet one, it shall have kind consideration, and I will keep my -promise by those bright eyes." As he spoke, he took both her hands in -his, and kissed her cheek; meditated for a moment, and still holding -her firmly. But then he suddenly released her, saying, "No," as if to -himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">At that moment there was a knock at the door of the cabinet, and the -Emperor said, "Come in." An attendant instantly entered, and gave him -a large sealed packet, saying, "The messenger said it was of instant -importance, Sire, from the Count of--."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well," cried the Emperor, waving his hand; and then, turning to -Bertha, he added, "Now go back to your chamber, fair lady, where you -shall be well taken care of. I will give <i>your</i> business full and kind -thought, and will come and tell you the result."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good Heaven!" thought Bertha, as she quitted the cabinet, "What will -become of me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">But the Emperor's thoughts were salutary, and he forbore.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">At first the sleep of Adelaide of Ehrenstein--when she at length could -close her eyes after the strange music which she had heard--was -troubled and light. Dreams visited her again and again; the same -shapes reappeared in different garbs and circumstances; and a thousand -shifting imaginations crossed the darkness of the sleeping brain, and -passed rapidly away, like summer lightning on a warm night. After some -hours, however, more calm and refreshing slumber fell upon her, and, -when she woke, the sun was shining brightly into her chamber, through -the young green leaves of the vine that mantled the window. Everything -looked sweet and peaceful; the song of birds came musical to her ear, -and she thought that from time to time she caught the sound of a -distant chant and the swelling notes of the organ. The window was half -open, and the balmy breath of spring fanned her cheek as she lay, -while by her side sat the lady whom she had seen the night before, now -gazing at her with the look of a tender mother watching a sick child. -It was full of deep affection, yet melancholy, very melancholy; and -who can gaze upon a young and inexperienced being just about to enter -upon the thorny path of mature life--who, with a knowledge of all that -experience teaches, the disappointments, the sorrows, the anxieties, -the pangs, the agonies that await mortal man upon his strange career, -can watch the young lie sleeping all unconscious of the evil to come, -and not feel sad at heart to think that in such a bitter school they -must learn the great lessons that prepare for immortality?</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thou hast slept well, my child," said the lady, as soon as she saw -that Adelaide was awake. "I trust that thy weariness has passed away?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, dear lady," answered Adelaide; "but not my fears. I heard -horsemen pass by last night, and voices singing, and, had not my whole -senses been dulled by fatigue, so that even very terror could not take -hold upon them, I believe I should have lain here and watched the -whole night through, thinking that every sound betokened pursuit."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Have no fear, for there is no danger, dear one," said the lady. "I -will show you, when you have risen, how easy escape would be, even if -those whose pursuit you fear were aware of your place of refuge, and -sought you here. We have a sure sanctuary close at hand. I will leave -you now for a while, and then I will lead you to the chapel to praise -God for your deliverance last night."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide rose, and dressed herself, though not very quickly; for her -limbs still felt stiff and bruised; and often, too, she would pause -and think, gazing from the window into the little garden that -surrounded the house, and feeling the peaceful influence of the scene, -bring balm and refreshment to her heart. At length, when she was -ready, she opened the door, and looked out where the neat woman -servant was arranging all the little articles of furniture in the -passage; and, while the maid ran to call her mistress, Adelaide could -not prevent her thoughts from contrasting strongly the tranquil life -of that humble cottage with the haughty state and troublous energy of -her father's castle. Peace!--it is peace that the pure heart ever -longs for; and every spot where fancy teaches us to believe it -rests--the village, in its mantle of green trees--the cottage, with -its humble thatch and curling smoke--the cloister, the very hermitage, -wherever imagination places it, seems better far, however lowly, than -the highest and most splendid scene without that good and holy tenant.</p> - -<p class="normal">Her reverie lasted not long; for, coming down the narrow stairs, with -the fair hand resting on the dark old oak, the lady joined her guest -in a few moments; and then, in a kind and tender tone, she said, -"Come; it is fit that we should thank God for all things. Had we light -to see, everything on earth is a blessing--except sin. There may be -sorrow; but there is no evil but wickedness. Come, my child."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am ready, and quite willing," answered Adelaide, following; and the -lady led her on along the passage to the back of the house, where -appeared a low arch, and a heavy door covered with iron plates. It was -not locked; but, as soon as it was drawn open, Adelaide beheld a -ponderous key and manifold bolts and fastenings within, and another -door beyond, while overhead, between the two, was a space open to the -air, but above which hung the lower edge of an iron portcullis ready -to descend. The lady saw her young companion's eyes turned up, and -answered her thoughts by saying, "The touch even of so weak a hand as -mine upon the machinery behind this other door will cause that gate to -descend in an instant, and cut off all communication between this -cottage and the convent garden. Thus, you see we have a sure escape -always nigh." As she spoke, she opened the other door, and Adelaide -following her as she advanced, found herself in the garden of the -convent of Heiligenstein. It was a calm and thoughtful-looking place, -surrounded by high walls of massive masonry, which towered up almost -to a level with the tops of the old trees. Of these there were many; -beeches and oaks, and elms, with here and there a dark yew, -contrasting strongly and solemnly with the light green foliage of the -rest. They were, nevertheless, not planted thick together; but each -tree stood detached, shadowing its own spot of ground; and beneath the -branches no brushwood was suffered to grow, nor weeds to encumber the -earth. The lower boughs, too, were cut away, to the height of six or -seven feet up the stem, so that those who wandered in the garden in -the summer could sit or stand in the cool shade, and meditate at their -leisure. The ground was generally covered with soft turf; but there -were many paths of pebbles laid side by side, and here and there was a -bed of such simple flowers as then ornamented the gardens of Europe. -Except where some of the nuns were seen walking two and two, and -speaking together in a low tone,--or where a solitary sister stood -cultivating some one particular bed which she had taken under her -especial care, all was still as death; and the only thing that seemed -endued with life and energy was the little stream, which, entering -from the hill above, flowed through the convent garden.</p> - -<p class="normal">The nuns nodded kindly to the lady when she passed any of them, and -gazed on Adelaide with inquiring eyes, turning the one to the other, -and talking glibly. The outward world visited them too rarely for even -an occasional glance of one of its denizens not to afford matter for -busy speculation. The young lady of Ehrenstein and her conductor, -however, went on in silence, under the green old quiet trees, and over -the soft cool turf, towards a pile of building with long curved -windows, ornamented in a lighter style than the rest of the convent. -Under a low, but wide-spreading tree, was a pointed door, apparently -ever open, and through it the two passed into the chapel. It was -lofty, if not spacious; and there was an air of misty gloom spread -through it which disposed the heart to prayer, while through the -stained glass windows of the chancel streamed a red and yellow light, -as if from the glories of a world beyond this life. Advancing slowly -to a chapel dedicated to "Our Lady of Good help," Adelaide's new -friend bent her knees, and offered up the prayer of the heart. -Adelaide knelt down also, and, though she spoke not aloud, her lips -moved, and thanks and praise, and entreaty, rose up from before that -altar to the Giver of all good, and the Protector from all evil. She -felt more comfort and refreshment from that prayer than sleep or food -had given; and, when she rose, her thought was, "One can bear much, -with hope and faith in God."</p> - -<p class="normal">She was yet destined, and that speedily, to need such support; but we -must turn to what had been passing elsewhere, but not far off. When -the mistress of the little cottage beneath the convent walls had left -her dwelling with her fair guest, all was quiet and peaceful; the -careful maid was busily engaged in the small entrance hall, brushing -the dust from the rare old furniture, raising, as she did so, a thin -cloud of motes, that went dancing away in a long line of sunshine -which streamed through the open door. The other servant was preparing -breakfast for her lady, on her return. Nought stirred in the garden -but the lizard on the wall, and the gay birds moving amongst the -leaves of the vines. The two ladies could not have reached the chapel, -however, when a head was raised over the garden wall at the corner -farthest from the entrance. Had there been doubt or suspicion, no eye -would have been turned in that direction; for there the moat that -enclosed the ground was broad and deep; and, whoever it was, who now -gazed quickly round that quiet little spot, he must have found some -means, by plank or ladder, of crossing the wide ditch. The maids in -the house continued their work, unconscious; no one saw the intruder, -no ear caught any sound of his proceedings; and, after having made his -furtive examination of the premises, he raised himself upon his arms, -swung himself over the wall, and, dropping down within the limits of -the garden, hid himself behind the vines. A moment after, another head -appeared; but the proceedings on this occasion were shorter than -before. There was no long scrutiny of the ground; but, leaping over at -once, this new visitor took up his position beside his companion. A -third, a fourth, followed; and Heaven knows how many more might have -thus poured in unperceived, had not a sudden ringing of the bell been -heard at the garden-gate, which as the reader is aware, lay on the -other side of the house, towards the village. So loud and sharp was -the sound, that the maid who was in the passage ran out at once, and -drew back the little wooden screen from the wicket. The face that -presented itself was that of one of the peasants of the neighbouring -village; and it was full of anxiety and apprehension.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There are men getting over into the garden," he cried; "and a number -more down beyond the corner of the wood. Run and tell the good lady."</p> - -<p class="normal">The woman turned round, with a scream; for the first glance to the -opposite side showed her three or four persons running from the far -angle of the garden. Darting back into the house, she rushed along the -passage, and through the doors which led to the convent. In her -terror, she said not a word to her fellow-servant; but the moment she -was within the convent-garden, she cast off the chain that upheld the -portcullis, and it fell with a tremendous clang, cutting off the -grounds of the nunnery from the cottage built against their walls.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean time, three of the men had entered the dwelling where -Adelaide had taken refuge the night before, and were searching it in -no very ceremonious manner; while the fourth rushed to the garden -gate, threw it open, and, running round to the angle, from which he -could see the neighbouring wood, took off his steel cap, and waved it -over his head as a signal to some persons at a distance. The moment -after, a large party of horse drew out from amongst the trees, and -rode up at a quick pace towards the cottage. A circumstance had -occurred, however, which the leader of that party had wished to avoid; -for the Count of Ehrenstein, though, as we have shown, a man of strong -and violent passions, was more cautious, both by habit and by nature, -than is usual with persons of his disposition. The peasant who had -given the alarm to the good woman at the cottage instantly hurried to -the great gates of the monastery, rang the bell, spoke a few words to -the portress, and then ran away to the village.</p> - -<p class="normal">In a minute or two after, the great bell of the convent rang loud and -clear, sending the deep waves of sound far over forest and field, -giving notice to a great distance round, that the nuns of -Heiligenstein were in danger, and required aid. Ere it had rung for -three minutes, the Abbess and several of the sisters appeared on the -battlemented portal of the gate, and made signs to some of the -horsemen who were now surrounding the cottage garden, expressive of a -desire to speak with them. No notice was taken for some time; but at -length, with a moody and disappointed brow, the Count of Ehrenstein -himself came out from the cottage, with a number of men who had -entered with him, and springing on his horse, rode up direct to the -gates of the convent.</p> - -<p class="normal">He seemed about to speak, but the Abbess, as well aware as any woman -of the advantage of the first word in a dispute, exclaimed, before he -could open his lips, "What seek you here, bold man; and how dare you -enter, like a thief, the grounds and dependencies of this convent?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I seek for my own, my good lady and mother," replied the Count of -Ehrenstein, "and will take it wherever I find it, by fair means, if -peaceably yielded--by force, if withheld. You seem not to know me, -though we have seen each other before; and what you have heard of me -should make you understand that I am not one to be trifled with. You -have my daughter within these walls; that fact I have learned beyond -all doubt. Bring her out to me within five minutes, and all shall go -well. I will take off my bonnet, like a good and humble servant of the -Church, and thank you right courteously. But if you do not, my men -with their axes will, in half an hour, hew down these gates of yours, -and I will take boldly what I now ask reverently, though the night and -a wolf or two may find their way in through the holes I am obliged to -make."</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is all pretence," answered the Abbess. "You seek to plunder the -convent. I have never seen your daughter since she was an infant; and -you forge your cause of complaint, Count of Ehrenstein, in order to -commit violence against a body of women whom you think helpless. But, -thank God and our holy Mother, we are not without defence; and if you -attempt to touch the gates, the consequences be upon your own head. -Bid the men come up there, sister Louisa, and garnish the walls. I -take Heaven to witness, that if blood be shed, it is this man's doing, -for he seeks a vain pretence against me."</p> - -<p class="normal">One of the nuns here whispered a few words to the Abbess, and the -Abbess replied with an impatient gesture; but in the mean time, at a -signal from above, a number of men, armed in haste, with cross bows in -their hands, began to hurry up, their heads and shoulders appearing at -various parts of the wall, and over the battlements of the portal. At -the same time, the great bell, which had ceased while the Abbess and -the Count were speaking, commenced again its loud peal, and a crowd of -people were seen hurrying down from the hills beyond, while several -parties appeared running with whatever arms they could collect, from -the farther end of the village to a postern behind the convent. Every -thing, in short, seemed to promise, that there would speedily take -place one of the scenes so common in those days, when nunnery or abbey -was attacked by any of its unruly neighbours, and defended -successfully or unsuccessfully, not alone by the vassals, who were -bound by their tenure to serve in arms, but also by the peasantry, who -had generally many motives for gratitude and kindly feeling towards -the ecclesiastics and recluses who dwelt among them.</p> - -<p class="normal">The enterprise, however, seemed now somewhat more serious in the eyes -of the Count of Ehrenstein than he had previously expected. The words -of the Abbess were bold and resolute; her declaration that she had not -seen his daughter since she was an infant, had been spoken in a frank -and straightforward tone; the number of men who already crowded the -walls was considerable, and more were likely soon to arrive. Besides -this, the reputation of attacking a nunnery was not altogether that -which the Count of Ehrenstein could have desired; and he felt that he -could be by no means certain of what acts his soldiers might commit, -to bring down discredit on his name, even if he should be successful.</p> - -<p class="normal">These considerations made him hesitate; and spurring his horse -somewhat nearer to the gate, he said, "Lady Abbess, it is quite -possible my disobedient child may be here without your knowledge or -consent. I wish to do nothing rashly, wrongly, or unjustly; and to -show you that I am not using a false pretence to violate your rights, -although I have certain information that she is now here, I will give -you half an hour to seek for her, and bring her forth, provided you -stop the ringing of that bell. If you do not bring her forth within -that time, I must use my own right, and take her."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Abbess made no reply, but waved her hand, with an angry and -somewhat scornful expression; and, accompanied by the nuns, withdrew -from the walls, leaving them guarded by the armed men who had been -admitted.</p> - -<p class="normal">The first care of the Count of Ehrenstein was to prevent the entrance -of any more; and he accordingly detached a small party to guard the -postern at the back of the convent. He then held a conversation with -Seckendorf and old Karl von Mosbach, and, although the bell still -continued to ring, he delayed the threatened attack, withdrawing his -men out of the reach of the crossbows, and watching, with somewhat -anxious eyes, the progress of the peasantry who were coming down the -hills, and who, when they saw the postern guarded by his horsemen, -gathered in one body of considerable strength upon the nearest slope. -When about twenty minutes had elapsed, some movements towards the -attack might be observed amongst his soldiery; several small trees -were cut down, and shaped into various implements with the axe. Twelve -stout men dismounted, and were formed in two lines before the rest; -and, judging by these signs, that more active operations were about to -commence, the cross-bowmen on the walls might be seen fitting their -quarrels to the string; and some of them seemed marking out the -principal figures amongst the assailants for the first shot.</p> - -<p class="normal">Before they proceeded further, however, the Count once more rode -forward to the gate, whispering a word before he went to old Karl von -Mosbach, who immediately led five or six men round to the cottage -garden, and disappeared amongst the vines.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count, as soon as he was within hearing, called to a burly yeoman, -who seemed in command above the gate, and bade him send for the -Abbess, as he wanted to speak with her again. A few minutes elapsed -before she appeared; but as soon as she came forward, the Count -addressed her, saying, "You have now, Lady Abbess, had full time to -inquire and learn whether my child be within your gates or not. You -know well that she is. I see it on your face; and I, as her father, -summon you to bring her forth, and yield her to my lawful authority. -If not, the evil consequences, whatever they may be, rest upon your -head, not mine; for you dare not and cannot deny that she is at this -moment in the convent."</p> - -<p class="normal">The countenance of the Abbess--it was a venerable and amiable one, -though somewhat touched with pride--was certainly troubled; but still -she replied boldly, and at once, "Your daughter, my lord the Count, is -at the altar of Our Lady of good help, and that is <i>sanctuary</i>. I knew -not, when I spoke to you before, that she was within these walls; but -even had I known it, I must have refused to give her up. I no more -dare to take her from sanctuary than you do; and therefore I tell you -to withdraw your men from these gates,--to return home to your own -dwelling, and to leave this holy place in peace."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Away with such idle words!" cried the Count, furiously; "what -sanctuary shall shield a child from her father, whom she has offended? -Will you bring her forth at once, or I will fire your convent and your -sanctuary together? Advance, Seckendorf!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Take but one step towards these gates, and the deepest curses of the -church shall fall upon you all," cried the Abbess. "What, shall not -the sanctuary, which gives safety even to the homicide, with his -fellow's blood red upon his hand, shield an innocent child from the -fury of her rash and violent father? Bend your bows, my children, and -defend these holy walls to the last, if they be attacked."</p> - -<p class="normal">"On, Seckendorf, on!" cried the Count, waving his hand; but the old -knight rode forward alone, while a quarrel from one of the cross-bows, -discharged by somewhat too eager a hand, rang upon his casque.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is a trumpet, my lord the Count," said the good old soldier, -paying no more attention to the missile than if it had been a -snow-ball thrown by a boy in sport; "better see who is coming, before -we begin: if they be friends, they will help us; if enemies, it were -well not to let them take us in the flank."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count looked round, with a gloomy brow, and a fierce rolling eye, -in the direction towards which Seckendorf had pointed. No one was yet -visible; but the woods and hills screened the roads round about till -they came very near the village; and the sounds of a trumpet was heard -again, clear and distinct, mingling shrilly with the low dull peal of -the great bell of the convent.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Help is at hand!" cried the Abbess. "Bold man, you will repent this:" -and, almost as she spoke, two figures appeared at the opening of the -road that led away towards Spires. One was a gentleman of the middle -age, unarmed, but mounted on a powerful charger. The other was a monk, -if one might judge by his garments, riding a mule well nigh as -spirited as a horse.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Father George, I think," cried Seckendorf; "but who is that with him? -There are more behind."</p> - -<p class="normal">The next instant the head of a troop of horse was seen, with several -officers in arms, a herald, two trumpeters, and a banner; and, as two -and two the men-at-arms issued forth, at a quick pace, the Count of -Ehrenstein soon perceived that his own force was far inferior.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Gather the men together, Seckendorf," he cried; "call Mosbach and his -men out of the cottage; bring the party back from the postern there, -and secure that road by the left of the village. We must retreat. Who, -in the fiend's name, can these be?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is an imperial banner, Sir," answered the old knight, ere he rode -back to the troop to execute the orders he received.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean while the other parry advanced rapidly: they crossed the -little stream, were lost for a minute behind an orchard,--their heads -and shoulders, banners and lances, were then seen over the walls of -the cottage-garden; and in another moment the officer in command -halted his men within fifty yards of the convent gate. After a few -words to those behind, he pushed his horse forward, accompanied by -Father George, and followed by the herald and one of the trumpeters. -"What is all this?" he cried, in a loud, stern tone: "why is the alarm -bell of this holy place ringing so loud? and what are these armed men -doing before the walls of Heiligenstein?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The Count of Ehrenstein comes to force a penitent from the sanctuary -of our Lady's altar," cried the Abbess, waving her hand for the bell -to cease; "and he was about to force our gates and burn the convent. -Thank God! and all the saints, for your coming, noble Count."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am here, Count Rudolph of Schönborn," said the Count of Ehrenstein, -riding a little forward, and smoothing his brow, "to claim my -disobedient daughter at the hands of these good sisters, who do not -deny that she is within their walls; and it was certainly my -determination to take her hence, with as little force as might be, -upon their refusal to give her up upon the pretence of sanctuary. I -trust that you, as a father yourself, and a brother noble, will aid me -to make this reverend lady hear reason,--for who ever knew of -sanctuary protecting a refractory child from her parent's due -authority?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know no limit to the shelter of a sanctuary, my good lord," replied -Count Rudolph. "Even I, myself, though now armed with the Emperor's -authority, must respect it, as you will soon see. As to forcing the -gates of a holy place like this, and threatening to burn it down, even -as a menace, it is a high offence, my lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A usual one with this noble Count," said Father George, "as I showed -the Emperor this morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha, poisonous reptile!" cried the Count of Ehrenstein, giving way to -a burst of fury; "have you been spitting your venom so far from your -own den? Who made my child--the sweetest, gentlest girl that ever -lived--despise her father's authority, fly from her home, and wed a -beggarly outcast? Who prompted his brother's bastard to seduce from -her duty the daughter of his lord? But there is vengeance yet in -store."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord the Count," replied Father George, calmly, "I might put -questions to you more difficult to answer than these will prove to me. -When you ask them in fit presence, as I believe you will soon have -occasion, I am ready to reply; but the matter is now in other hands, -and there I will leave it for the time."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will leave my cause with you in no other hands," answered the Count -of Ehrenstein, fiercely; "sooner or later I will have vengeance. It -were vain now, I see," he continued, turning to Count Rudolph, "to try -to enforce my right here to the custody of my own child, as you, sir, -refuse to give me aid; and therefore----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay yet a moment, my lord of Ehrenstein," said Count Rudolph; "my -whole mission refers to you: and, first, as to your daughter, you had -better witness what steps I take. My dear lady Abbess," he continued, -advancing close to the gates, "I was commanded by the Emperor, my lord -and friend, to seek the lady Adelaide, of Ehrenstein, here, and to -bring her to the Imperial Court at Spires, there to live, under my -good wife's protection, till her case can be fully considered. As, -however, she has claimed sanctuary, far be it from me even to think of -taking her from it without her free consent. Give her, therefore, my -message, and tell her, that if she be willing to go with me, I pledge -my knightly word, at any time that she may require it, to restore her -to her place of refuge, and defend her there against all men."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will tell her, my lord," replied the Abbess, "and doubtless she -will readily go with one so noble and so true."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will not stay here," cried the Count of Ehrenstein, "to be mocked -and set at nought by my rebellious child.--Mount the men, Mosbach, and -march."</p> - -<p class="normal">"One moment more, my lord," said Count Rudolph; "I was bound for -Ehrenstein, had I not so fortunately found you here; so that I am -saved a farther journey. You are accused, my lord, before the Imperial -Chamber, of several high offences, and----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"And you are ordered, perhaps, to arrest me," said the Count, reining -back his horse towards his troop: "be it at your own peril,--I am not -very tame."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You mistake, sir," said Count Rudolph; "I am ordered formally to -summon you to appear to-morrow before the Emperor's court at Spires; -there to answer any charges that may be brought against you. Advance, -herald, and read the summons."</p> - -<p class="normal">The herald immediately spurred forward his horse, till he was somewhat -in advance of Count Rudolph and Father George, and then, drawing forth -a parchment with a large seal, he read aloud, in a dull and monotonous -voice, a formal summons for the Count of Ehrenstein to appear, as -Count Rudolph had announced. After he had concluded, he waved his -truncheon thrice in the air, and each time the trumpeter behind blew a -loud short blast.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And now, my good lord, I may as well ask whether you will appear, or -not?" said Count Rudolph, as soon as this ceremony was over.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I love to have time to consider all things," answered the Count of -Ehrenstein. "To-morrow will be time enough for my determination to -appear: and now, my lord, farewell. I trust your daughter may prove as -obedient as mine, and may find friends, as wise and powerful as -yourself, to aid and encourage her in the course she chooses."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, with a bitter smile, and every angry passion in his -heart, the Count of Ehrenstein turned his horse and rode away, his -retainers following, and old Seckendorf keeping a wary eye to the -rear, lest any attack should be made upon their retreating party, -either by the force of Count Rudolph, or the armed peasantry who had -gathered on the hill.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XL.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">It is a common maxim that time destroys falsehood, and leaves truth -intact. This may be true in the abstract; for truth, in its nature is -indestructible; but as the mind of man is always more or less in a -misty state, and his perception of no object very clear and distinct; -even that which is true in the abstract he often renders false in -application by various errors of his own, and by none more frequently -than by using that in a figurative sense which is only just in a -definite sense. No maxim has thus been more perverted than the one I -have cited, that time destroys falsehood, but leaves truth intact. It -has been used figuratively; it has had its signification extended; it -has had its very terms altered; and we find it at last changed so as -to assert that time destroys falsehood, but brings truth to light. In -this form, however, it is altogether inadmissible. Time may destroy -falsehood, as anything else that is perishable. It may sometimes bring -truth to light; but it does neither always; and this is one of the -vulgar maxims of the world, of which we have so many, intended to -support morality, but, in fact, destroying it; for the key-stone of -morals is truth. Society manufactures facts just as it builds houses -and churches, forms rings, or swords, or bracelets. The real deeds, -and thoughts, and feelings of men, and the false assertions concerning -them--all, in short, that forms the great mass of history,--are cast -down, broken, mutilated, and covered over with the mud and ashes of -passing generations, as age follows age; but the truth lies buried as -well as the falsehood; and the waves of time that overlay them with -the refuse, and lumber, and dirt of a hundred centuries, from hour to -hour, roll up the fragments to the feet of those who stand upon the -dry strand of the present; or else man's busy and inquisitive hand -digs them up; and--as we search amongst the ruins of a past city, for -the gems and jewels, the sculpture and the painting of races now no -more, casting from us what is worthless--so seek we amongst the -records of the former times (if we are wise), preserving what is true -and precious, and throwing away what is false. Yet how much useless -lumber and unsubstantial trash is retained and valued in both cases. -What history is not full of lies!--what cabinet uncrowded with -fabrications!</p> - -<p class="normal">Perhaps in no case whatever has time given us so little truth as in -regard to many points relating to the religions institutions of the -middle ages. The gross and horrible superstitions and corruptions of -the Romish church, and the ambitious motives and eager thirst for -domination that existed in her hierarchy, acted as a sort of deluge, -overwhelming and hiding many excellent results--much that was -fine--much that was holy--much that was pure. The subject is vast, and -is receiving more attention now than it ever has done since the -Reformation; but I have to do with only one point. The monasteries and -nunneries of those days have been represented, generally, as places of -mere idleness, or idleness and vice; and yet, at the periods when they -were established, and for centuries after, they operated in many -respects most beneficially. They were the countercheck to feudal power -and tyranny; a refuge to the people in the time of oppression; a sure -support in the hour of need. There were drawbacks, certainly; they -were the manufactories of superstitions, the citadels of the enemy in -a fierce war against the human mind. Still they did much good, in some -directions, in their day. The lives of the recluses have been severely -criticised; they have, upon the faith of some shocking instances, been -represented as full of wickedness and corruption; and yet in general -the people loved them. There cannot be a doubt of it,--especially the -people of the country; for the new risen communes were generally -inimical to them.</p> - -<p class="normal">At all events, the peasantry round the convent of Heiligenstein were -devotedly attached to the good sisters, who, living amongst them, -witnessed their joys and sorrows, alleviated their sufferings, -wherever it was possible, and sympathised with them whenever they had -no other balm to give. Simple in their lives, kind in their dealings, -liberal of their wealth, for which they had no other employment but -charity, and spreading those human affections which were denied an -individual object over the whole race, the nuns were pardoned easily a -little spiritual pride, as the alloy of the finer qualities which they -constantly displayed. The armed peasants, who had hurried to their -rescue, would willingly have shed their blood in defence of their -friends and benefactors; and a menacing movement took place amongst -them as the soldiery of the Count of Ehrenstein withdrew. A message, -sent in haste by the Abbess, stopped any hostile proceeding; but a -loud shout of derision, harder to bear, perhaps, than actual assault, -followed the Count, and worked up his anger almost to madness.</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Rudolph of Schönborn, turned a quick and somewhat angry glance -towards them, for although a kind and noble hearted man, he was not by -any means without the prejudices of his class; and he felt the -indignity offered to another noble as an insult to his whole order. He -might, indeed, have added sharp words to his fierce look, but the -voice of the Abbess, speaking from above, caught his ear, and he -advanced, inquiring, "What says the Lady Adelaide?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have not given her your message yet, my good lord," was the reply; -"I stayed to see what would happen to that bad Count of Ehrenstein. -But I have ordered the gates to be thrown open for you, my noble lord, -and refreshment to be prepared for your men, in the village. You had -better see the lady yourself, poor thing. Doubtless, her father's -harsh, bad temper has driven her to fly from him. He killed her -mother, who was as sweet a girl as ever lived, and my dear friend, in -childhood."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Killed her!" exclaimed Count Rudolph in surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, she means but by unkindness, my lord Count," replied Father -George. "There are murders which no law but that of God will reach; -but I cannot but think, that to slay the innocent and good by daily -torture, cold looks, harsh words, and deeds bitterer than blows, is as -great or greater a crime than to end life quickly by the dagger or the -phial. But see, my lord, the gates are open. Will you not enter? I -shall beg leave to accompany you within, for my words may have more -power with the lady than those of a stranger, however noble."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We must not be long," answered Count Rudolph; and advancing to the -gates, he entered the outer court of the convent where the Abbess -stood ready to receive him, with all marks of gratitude and respect. -She did not, indeed, lead him to the interior of the building, but -took her way to the parlour of the lodge, where she ordered -refreshments to be brought instantly, and then, at the request of the -Count, sent for poor Adelaide of Ehrenstein. Father George she seemed -to know well, and though they were too courteous to converse apart in -Count Rudolph's presence, their looks held a mute conversation, till, -at length, the door of the parlour again opened, and Adelaide -appeared, clinging with unsubdued terror to the lady with whom she had -found refuge, whose face also was grave and apprehensive. The sight of -Father George, however, seemed to revive and encourage them both. -Adelaide at once sprang towards him and kissed his hand, and the lady -greeted him with a bright and well satisfied smile. To the one, his -manner was kind and paternal; to the other, reverent and courteous; -but Adelaide, ere she even looked round to Count Rudolph, whispered, -"Ferdinand, Father? Ferdinand? I have not seen him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is safe, my child," said the old monk, in a low tone; "fear not; -the crisis is coming; and you will now find that the promises I made -are fulfilled. You have still to play your part, my child; but look -upon it as a blessing from Heaven, that you have the opportunity of -playing that part, and I trust of saving those most dear to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Have you told the lady?" asked Count Rudolph, interrupting the monk, -as he was going on.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, my good lord," answered Father George, "I have not ventured to -give your message in your own presence."</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Rudolph advanced towards Adelaide, and with a graceful, though -somewhat stately air, he said, "Your case, lady, has come before my -lord the Emperor in two forms: first, by private information from a -source in which he seems to have some confidence; and next, by an open -statement, made this morning, a few minutes before I set out--and of -which, by the way, I know nothing--by my reverend and very good friend -here, Father George. His Imperial Majesty seems to have been greatly -touched by the account given to him, and he despatched me in haste to -request your presence at his court at Spires. To satisfy any doubts -that you might have, he required me to assure you of the protection -and motherly care of my good wife, the Countess Schönborn, which she -will give you, I may say, willingly and frankly, as if you were a -child of her own. The Emperor knew not, when he sent me, that you had -taken sanctuary, and thus he spoke in the tone of command; but being -well aware that no one has greater reverence for the church than he, I -dare use nothing but entreaty now, assuring you, upon my knightly word -and honour, that at your request, I will restore you to this place of -refuge, and there defend you to the best of my power, should it be -needful."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide paused, and made no reply for a moment, looking to Father -George, as if for counsel. "Go, my child, go," he said. "Great things -are on the eve of decision in the Emperor's court. It is needful that -you should be present; for it often happens that a woman's voice, -wisely employed, mitigates the severity of man's justice, and acts the -sweetest part of Heaven on earth; go, my child, go. With this good -lord's inviolable word to guard you, you are as safe at Spires as -here."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide gently clasped her hands together, and looked down upon the -ground for a moment or two, lost in deep thought. It was not that she -hesitated, it was not that she asked herself, "Shall I, or shall I -not, quit this place of sure and peaceful refuge, to mingle again with -the strifes and confusion of the world?" for her mind was made up; -and, thus far advanced, she was ready to go on. But it was that she -saw many a painful hour before her, and she asked herself, "How shall -I surmount all the anguish and the difficulty of the hour? Will my -courage fail, will my bodily strength give way? Will God help me at my -need, and strengthen me to do his appointed task?" As she thus -thought, her hands pressed closer together, and her lips murmured, -"Christ help me!" Then turning to Count Rudolph, she said, "I am ready -to go, my lord, in obedience to the Emperor's command, and trusting to -your word."</p> - -<p class="normal">She did not venture to say more, and Count Rudolph showed some -inclination to depart; but the Abbess besought him to pause awhile, -till both he and the lady had partaken of some refreshment. To speak -the truth, he was not averse to a supply of good meat and wine; for he -had ridden far, and was at all times blessed with a good appetite. He -made Adelaide his excuse, however; and while he courteously -complimented her in somewhat formal speeches, according to the custom -of the day, Father George spoke eagerly, but apart, to the lady who -had been Adelaide's hostess, and then called the Abbess to their -consultation. Like a hill-side under cloud and sunshine, the cheek of -the lady glowed and turned pale by turns, as she listened to the words -which the monk spoke. She gazed down upon the ground, she looked up to -the sky, her eyes filled with tears, her limbs trembled; and ere she -answered, she sat down upon a settle, as if overpowered by what was -said.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is foolish and weak," she exclaimed, at length. "I will not -shrink from the task, and why should I dread the peril? For him have I -lived, for his sake have I endured the burden of existence, which -otherwise would have long since crushed me. 'Tis but the habit of -concealment and apprehension that engenders these foolish fears; and I -will shake them off. Father, you tell me it is right to go, and I will -go, if death should be my portion."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Joy may be your portion, daughter," answered Father George, laying -his right hand lightly, but impressively, upon her shoulder;--"joy, -brighter, deeper, than you have known for years, perhaps than you have -known in life--It may be so. I say not that it will; but surely, to -see your son raised to the summit of your highest hopes, is sufficient -motive even for a greater risk."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is--it is," answered the lady; "and I will go, good Father; but do -not abandon me, do not leave me to meet a strange court, and scenes -such as I have not seen for years, alone. I shall feel like some of -the wild creatures of the woods, suddenly caught, and brought before a -thousand gazing eyes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will go with you, daughter," answered Father George, "for your -sake, and for that dear child's; I will not leave you as long as there -is aught doubtful in your fate. If wrong has been committed, it is -mine; and I will abide the issue with you."</p> - -<p class="normal">While this conversation had taken place between Father George and the -lady, with the Abbess listening, and joining in from time to time, -Count Rudolph had applied himself to soothe and encourage Adelaide, -and he had made some progress in quieting her apprehension, when the -refreshments which had been ordered were brought in. The worthy Count -undoubtedly did more justice to the good fare than any of the other -persons present; but he despatched his present task rapidly; and then, -after pausing for a moment to see if his companions would take -anything more, he rose, as a signal for departure.</p> - -<p class="normal">Several little interludes had taken place, and all the by-play which -must occur in such a scene. Lay-sisters had come in and gone out; two -men had even appeared in the parlour, had received orders, and taken -their departure; but the Count had paid little attention, and was -somewhat surprised in the end to find that he was to have another -companion besides the Lady Adelaide. He was too courteous to offer any -objection, however; and in a short time the whole party were on their -way to Spires.</p> - -<p class="normal">We need not notice the incidents of the journey, which were few and of -no importance. Refreshed by a night's rest, Adelaide was far less -fatigued than Bertha had been the night before; but still, as they -entered the city, then in its splendour and its pride, filled with a -moving multitude, and displaying in its streets all the pageantry of -commerce, of arms, and of royalty, with gay cavalcades at every -corner, with marching troops, with sounding trumpets, with gaily -decorated booths and shops, and with innumerable human beings, all -occupied with themselves, or with thoughts totally alien to her -feelings, situation, and anticipations, Adelaide felt lost and -abandoned in the crowd, and her heart sank with a greater feeling of -desolation than ever she had felt in the wildest scenes of her own -hills.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such sensations were increased when they approached the palace, and -beheld a multitude of guards and attendants, armed and on horseback, -surrounding a small open space, in the midst of which was seen a -magnificent charger, held by two grooms; while, with one knee bent to -the ground, a man of lordly aspect, held a gilded stirrup, to which -another, of the middle age, robed in royal splendour, placed his foot, -and then vaulted into the saddle.</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Rudolph reined in his horse, and the whole party halted, while -the Emperor putting himself at the head of his train, rode past, -merely noticing his friend and companion by an inclination of the -head. As soon as the Imperial troop had marched by, Lady Adelaide was -conducted to the palace, and led, by nearly the same course which -Bertha had followed the night before, to two rooms which had been -prepared for her. Father George followed, but paused at the door, -saying, "I must seek myself lodging in the priory; but before I go, -dear lady, let me tell you, I find, from the words of the Emperor this -morning, that your maid Bertha is here. I learned late last night, -that your party had been intercepted by one of the three men who fled; -and I set off two hours before daybreak, to inquire into the fate of -all. You will need your maid to attend upon you, and I will ask one of -the pages to send her. Moreover," he added, in a low voice, "it is -needful to know what she has said to the Emperor; not that I wish you -to have any concealment from him; for he may know all; indeed, he does -know all, as far as I can tell it; and it will be well for you to show -him the motives on which you have acted, and to plead at once for that -lenity, of which some who have offended may have great need. Now, for -the present, farewell, my child, and farewell too, dear lady; I shall -see you both again ere night."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, Father George left his fair companions, and in a moment -or two after, Bertha ran into the room, and threw her arms round her -fair mistress, kissing her tenderly, but gazing upon the stranger who -was with her in some surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! dearest lady," she cried, in her usual gay tone, "I have been in -sad terror about you, and about myself too, ever since we parted. I -knew you were little fit to take care of yourself where you were; and -I soon found I was little fit to take care of myself where I was; for -Bertha in a court was quite as much lost as Adelaide in a wood; but -Heaven took care of us both it seems. Yet I must hear all that, has -happened to you; for by no stretch of imagination can I conceive how -one so little experienced in the tangled ways of life, could get out -of that forest in the night time--unless indeed, Father George came to -your help; for that wild boy of a page tells me, a monk sent him to -call me to you--pray, let me hear all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You will hear in good time, maiden," said the elder lady, somewhat -gravely; "but at present, it is needful that you should tell your -mistress all that has taken place between yourself and the Emperor; -for we know not when he may return and call for her; and it is right -that she should hear what has been said."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I will tell what I said to him, in a minute," answered Bertha, -laughing; "but I must not tell all he said to me, for that would be -betraying Majesty's confidence--though it would serve him right too; -for great men in furs and velvets should not try to make fools of poor -girls."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I seek not, my good Bertha," replied Adelaide, "to hear aught that he -said to you. That does not concern me; but Father George seems to -think that you told him much respecting me, and--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I told him all I knew, dear lady, and all I guessed," answered -Bertha; "but it was not till he had promised me, upon his royal word, -pardon for myself, and help for you, in case of need. But to my story, -such as it is--first, I told him that you were lost in the wood, which -I described as well as I could; and, moreover, that if you were out of -it, you would be as much puzzled to find your way either through the -mazes of the country or the mazes of your fate, as if you remained in. -Then he asked me a great number of questions, to which I could only -answer by guess--such as Whether you were really married to Ferdinand -of Altenburg? and I told him, I felt very sure of it, though I did not -see the ring put on with my own eyes."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide's cheek grew somewhat crimson, but the lady who was with her -asked, "Well, what more?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why then, Madam, he inquired," continued Bertha, "Who Ferdinand of -Altenburg really was? and I told him that I fancied he was of higher -rank than he seemed, and of better hopes and fortunes too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think you must have omitted something, dear Bertha," said Adelaide; -"for how came he to ask if I were married to Ferdinand of Altenburg, -if you told him nothing of poor Ferdinand before?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That puzzled me as much as it does you, lady," replied Bertha; "but -there were a thousand things besides that, which made me feel sure -that he had got nearly as good information as I could give, from some -one else. I went to him in the nun's gown, and he took me for you at -first; but when he found out the mistake, he questioned me closely, I -can assure you. Amongst other things, I told him that it was high time -for both you and Ferdinand to run away, inasmuch as I believed, if you -had staid, my good and merciful lord, your father, would have chopped -both your heads off. Then he asked if you were very handsome, and I -said Not particularly; for it seemed to me that this mighty Kaiser had -a great faculty of falling in love, and that if I told him how -beautiful you really are, you might find it unpleasant."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush! hush! Bertha," said Adelaide; "there is no fear of the Emperor -falling in love with either of us. You must not mistake mere courtly -words for lover's professions."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I wish I were safe out of the place," answered Bertha; "for, on -my life! these courtly words are very warm ones; and as summer is hard -by, the air is hot enough without them. But to my tale again I told -him, in short, that I thought you were married; that I knew you had -long loved; that I believed you knew who Ferdinand of Altenburg really -is, as well or better than he does himself, and that I was quite sure -you acted for the best in giving him your hand without your father's -knowledge. On that he questioned me a long while, as to whether love -would not make a woman do anything, and whether you had not listened -to love instead of duty. I said No; that love would do great things, -but not all, and that, whatever his Majesty might think, there were -some women who would not do what they knew to be wrong, even for -love."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You said well, Bertha;--you said well," answered Adelaide, casting -down her eyes thoughtfully, and questioning her own heart as to how -far love had made her lend a willing ear to persuasions that took the -voice of duty. But the elder lady bent her head approvingly towards -the maid, and gave her a well pleased smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">Bertha's tale was soon concluded, and for a while both the ladies -mused over her account. The elder seemed not dissatisfied with what -she stated had taken place, but there were parts of the maid's -narrative which created some uneasy feeling in Adelaide's breast.--She -had previously shrunk from meeting a monarch to whom she might be -obliged to speak of feelings and actions which she would fain have -left in silence for ever, although the feelings might be pure and -noble, and the actions just and right; but she gathered from Bertha's -words that there had been a lightness of tone in the Emperor's -conversation which might well increase her apprehensions and make the -timid modesty of her nature almost deviate into terror. Her cheek -turned pale as she thus thought, and the watchful eye of her elder -companion saw the change.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are somewhat faint and weary, my dear child," she said; "I wonder -that the Countess of Schönborn has not yet appeared. She would -doubtless procure you some refreshment."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can do that as well, Madam," answered Bertha, turning gaily to the -door. "In the Emperor's absence, I command the buttery, and the -cellar, and am humbly served, I can tell you.--Here, slave," she -continued, opening the door and speaking to some one in the passage; -"bring these ladies some food and wine; and be quick, if you would -merit favour."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide smiled, inquiring, "Who have you there, giddy girl?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, one who has vowed humble service this morning," answered Bertha; -"and as I hope and trust his bondage will not be long, I may as well -use my reign imperiously."</p> - -<p class="normal">In a few minutes, the page whom we have seen before came in with an -inferior servant bearing refreshments; but ere Adelaide and her -companions had tasted much, Count Rudolph of Schönborn and his -Countess were announced, and ushered in with more of the pomp and -state of high station than had yet been seen in the Retscher. To the -surprise of both Adelaide and her companion, it was to the latter that -the Countess of Schönborn first addressed herself, and that with an -air of deep deference and respect.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Although it was to this young lady--whom I take to be the Lady -Adelaide of Ehrenstein," the Countess said,--"that my husband promised -my protection and support, yet, Madam, as my good friend, Father -George of Altenburg, has made me acquainted with much concerning you, -let me first offer you any courtesy or attention I can show."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I may doubtless yet much need your favour, Madam," replied the lady; -"and will seek it frankly, with many thanks that it is frankly -offered; but, for the time, this dear child requires countenance and -help, such as I ought to have power myself to give her, were it not -for the wrong I suffer."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Countess's next address was to Adelaide; but it gave the poor girl -but small comfort or support; for though she wished to be kind and -considerate, Count Rudolph's worthy dame knew not rightly how. Stately -and ceremonious, she was not fitted to console under misfortune, or -inspire confidence in difficulty. She was one of those people who are -ever ready to do a real service or confer an important favour, but who -make even bounty burdensome by the manner in which it is exercised. -Oh, how poor and unequal is the exchange thus sought, of deference for -regard! Strange, strange must be the constitution of those minds who -prefer reverence to affection. Words of course, formal courtesies, -were all that passed between the Lady Adelaide and her visitor, and -although Heaven knows the poor girl had little pride in her nature, -and her heart was as gentle as the summer air, yet such was the -influence of the Countess's manner upon her that she became cold and -almost haughty in demeanour. Perhaps it might do her good, however; -for deeply depressed as she was, ignorant of the fate of those she -loved best, anxious and apprehensive in regard to the event of each -coming hour, she required something to rouse her from her despondency, -and recall her thoughts from the dreary looking forward to the future.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Countess of Schönborn staid long, and only retired when the sound -of trumpets announced the Emperor's return; but, strange as it may -seem, though her demeanour had certainly not much pleased Adelaide, -yet Adelaide had much pleased her. Her cold stateliness had generated -the same; she herself had been reflected from Adelaide's mind as from -a glass; and as she valued herself highly, she was well satisfied with -the image.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She is a dignified and high-minded young woman," said the Countess to -her husband, as they went away; "and I am quite sure that, whatever -men may say, she would never do aught unworthy of her rank and -station."</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Rudolph knew more of human nature than his wife; he understood -the process by which the fair girl had become so different a creature -in the Emperor's palace from what she had been at the convent and by -the way; and he smiled, but without reply.</p> - -<p class="normal">When they were gone, Adelaide's heart sank again; she expected each -minute to be called to the presence of the monarch, and all her fears -and apprehensions returned. Bertha, who knew her well, easily divined -what was passing in her heart, and strove to console and cheer her, -saying, "Indeed, dear lady, you, who fear no ghosts, need not fear any -emperors. They are a much tamer sort of cattle than we have any notion -of till we come near them--somewhat frolicsome, but no way frightful."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Alas! my poor Bertha," answered the lady, "we have all our own -particular objects of fear; and that which might reassure you, would -terrify me. I am in no sportive humour myself, and I could easier bear -a reproof just now than a jest."</p> - -<p class="normal">Still no summons came: hour after hour passed by, and Adelaide began -to think she was forgotten. A short visit from Father George tended in -some degree to break the heavy tedium of expectation; but he remained -not more than ten minutes, and during that time he was engrossed in -eager and private conversation with the lady of the cottage. He was -evidently hurried, and Adelaide thought she saw more agitation in his -manner than she had ever before witnessed. Her fears increased; she -asked herself if aught had gone wrong; if his plans, like so many -other well-devised schemes, had failed; but the calm demeanour of her -fair companion when he was gone, reassured her in a degree; and at -length just as the light that streamed through the long windows was -growing somewhat fainter, the expected summons came, and she rose to -obey it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I would fain go with you, my dear child," said the elder lady, in her -low, musical voice; "but I fear I must not on this occasion."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know it--I know it," answered Adelaide, "but, strange to say, I -fear less now than I did a moment ago. Expectation is fear."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, she departed, and, preceded by two officers of the -palace, was conducted to the room where the Emperor awaited her. He -fixed his eyes steadfastly upon her for a moment as she entered--then -advanced, as she would have knelt, prevented her from doing so, and -led her to a seat.</p> - -<p class="normal">Physiognomy is generally looked upon as an idle science, not, indeed, -deserving of the name. All must admit that it is an uncertain one; but -yet there is something in the human countenance, whether it be in -feature or in expression, or in both combined, which has its effect -upon every one. We judge by it, even when we know not that we are -judging; we act in consequence of its indications without being aware -that we are influenced by it. The monarch, while he imagined that the -girl Bertha was the daughter of the Count of Ehrenstein, had demeaned -himself towards her in a very different manner from that which he now -displayed towards Adelaide. It was that her appearance had produced a -very different impression. There is an alchemy in a high heart, which -transmutes other things to its own quality. He was calm and grave, but -mild and kind; and, as he saw that his fair visitor was somewhat -agitated, he soothed her tenderly, more in the tone of a father than a -sovereign.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not be alarmed, my dear young lady," he said: "I am neither going -to speak harsh words nor ask idle questions. Your whole tale has been -told to me by lips that could not lie; therefore all discussion of the -past is useless. It remains but for me to do the best I can to render -you happy, to right what has been done wrong, and, if a fair -opportunity be given me, to temper justice, as far as possible, with -mercy. With such purposes and such wishes, all I have to ask of you -is, will you trust me?--will you place full confidence in me, and not -act in any shape till I let you know the time is come?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! Sire," exclaimed Adelaide, in a tone of deep gratitude, "you are -too kind and too noble for me to doubt you for an instant. Command, -and I will obey."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then," replied the Emperor; "be prepared in an hour's time to -set out on a journey of some length. A litter shall be ready for you, -as you have already had much fatigue;--and fear not," he added, seeing -that she cast down her eyes thoughtfully: "you will be surrounded by -friends, and guarded against all danger."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is a lady here with me, Sire," replied Adelaide, "whose fate, I -feel, is in some way connected with mine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know, I know," replied the Emperor, with a smile: "she will go with -you; her presence is as necessary as your own, as doubtless you are -well aware. And now, farewell. I will not keep you longer. Be ready, -and fear nothing."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XLI.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The sky was as black as ink; not a star was to be seen through the -dark veil of clouds; no moon had yet risen to shed even a faint -glimmer through the heavy vapours that over spread the heaven. Woods -and hills were around, and all was darkness over the scene, except -where from a tall and extensive building, with six long pointed -windows on either side, streamed forth a red and somewhat sombre -blaze, lighting some of the larger objects in the immediate -neighbourhood: the large masses of an oak, a tall projecting rock, and -a crucifix of stone mounted on six steps. It was the chapel between -Hardenberg and Mosbach, and the hour of midnight was nearly come. On -either side of the door of the chapel stood a man-at-arms of the house -of Leiningen, with a broad battle-axe on his shoulder; and the large -door itself was thrown back, emitting the light, as well as the -windows. Within, the scene was somewhat striking. For many years the -old building had not beheld such a light, for the abbey to which it -had been formerly attached, had been suppressed about thirty years -before, on account of gross irregularities, and the revenues -attributed, part to the Bishop of Spires, and part to the Abbey of -Limburg. Doubtless it was the intention of the authorities who -performed this act of severity, that the chapel, which had been a -great convenience to the neighbouring peasantry, should be kept up, -and service performed therein; but, as in the act of suppression, it -was not distinctly specified who was to bear the expenses of its -maintenance, neither of the parties who benefited by the confiscation -had thought fit to undertake the task: the service ceased; the -building was neglected; and ruin and dilapidation was fast taking hold -of it.</p> - -<p class="normal">Now, however, between each pair of the twelve tall columns that -supported the broken roof, stood a man with a torch in his hand, the -red glare of which poured over the grey stone-work, and showed even -the green stains that damp winter had left upon the masonry. Just -within the door stood a trumpeter with his trumpet in his hand; and at -the farther end of the chapel, with one or two of his friends and -attendants round him, his head somewhat bent, and his face thoughtful, -stood Count Frederick of Leiningen. A little farther down, gathered -together in a small knot under one of the arches, appeared four -gentlemen wrapped in long, dark mantles, but bearing on their heels -the gilded spurs of knighthood; and in various parts of the building, -two or three other figures were seen, some with their countenances -turned towards the light, some gazing forth from the windows. A number -of seats were placed in a semicircle a few yards in advance of the -spot where the altar had stood, and a small table with a lamp, some -writing materials, and an hour-glass, appeared in front of the -settles. On either hand, behind Count Frederick of Leiningen, was a -small arched doorway, leading probably into the rooms where the -priest's vestments used formerly to be kept, and above the altar was a -round window, the stained glass of which was still perfect.</p> - -<p class="normal">As if somewhat impatient, Count Frederick twice advanced to the table, -and looked at the hour-glass, and then, turning to one of those who -were with him, he observed, "It is nearly out. Think you he will not -come?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hear the sound of horses, my lord," said one of the persons who had -been standing near the window; "he is coming now. They seem a goodly -troop, by the noise they make."</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Frederick smiled; and in a few minutes, the Count of Ehrenstein, -followed by a considerable number of armed men, entered the chapel.</p> - -<p class="normal">His face was less gloomy than it had lately been; and whatever he -might feel, he greeted Count Frederick in friendly terms, but at the -same time shaded his eyes with his hand, as if the glare affected -them.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, what a blaze!" he exclaimed; "do you not think, Leiningen, that -we had better extinguish some of these torches? The Emperor, I find, -is at Spires; his men are all about; and this may call attention to us -and our proceedings."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Be it as you will," replied Count Frederick; "but I have taken good -care, my friend, to guard against all surprise. I have three hundred -men, scattered in parties round, within the call of a trumpet."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count of Ehrenstein's face evidently fell, and he replied in a -tone of some surprise, looking to his companions as he spoke, -"Indeed!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count took no notice of his exclamation, but ordered all the -torches except two to be extinguished, and then, turning to the Count -of Ehrenstein, inquired, "Had we not better bid the trumpeter call -upon Ferdinand of Altenburg to appear? It is now midnight; you see the -sand is run out."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let us first take our places," said the Count of Ehrenstein, -thoughtfully. "These four gentlemen, I presume, are those whom you -have selected?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"They are," replied Count Frederick; "you have Mosbach I see with you, -but where is my old friend Seckendorf?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I left him to guard the castle," replied the Count; "but here are -three others, knights, and of good degree."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, let us take our seats," said Count Frederick, "and to the -judgment of these noble gentlemen refer the free decision of all that -may be brought before them. You and I, my friend, taking our places -with them to witness and execute their judgment, but having no voice -in their decision."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, Count Frederick moved towards one of the two seats placed -in the midst of the others, courteously waving the Count of Ehrenstein -to the one next to him on the right hand. It was the place of honour, -but the latter would fain have declined it; for, by the position in -which the several parties stood, it placed Count Frederick between -himself and his followers, so that no private communication could be -held by him with those whose judgment he might wish to influence. His -old companion, however, courteously insisted on retaining his seat to -the left, and the knights having taken their places, after some little -debate on this point, Count Frederick said aloud:--</p> - -<p class="normal">"To you, noble gentlemen, as men impartial and of true honour, we -defer the cause which you will hear, calling upon you, however, most -solemnly to remember your knightly oath, and to cast from your mind -all prejudice, but judging solely according to your consciences in the -sight of God. Now let the trumpeter go out, and call before us -Ferdinand of Altenburg, according to his written word and promise. Let -him be called three times; and if he appear not, let judgment go -against him."</p> - -<p class="normal">The trumpeter went forth as he was ordered, and immediately after, -there was heard a loud, shrill blast, and a voice pronouncing some -words which could not be distinguished within. A short space of time -then elapsed, and again the trumpet sounded, and the proclamation was -repeated.</p> - -<p class="normal">No one appeared, however, and the Count of Ehrenstein muttered between -his teeth, "He comes not--I knew he would not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Patience, patience, my good friend," said Count Frederick; "many -things come when we least expect them. Let the trumpet sound again, -and we shall see."</p> - -<p class="normal">Almost as he spoke the blast was repeated, and to the surprise of all, -it was instantly echoed by another trumpet.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has got a herald with him, the mighty prince;" said Count -Frederick's jester, who was standing behind.</p> - -<p class="normal">Little attention, however, was bestowed upon his words, for all eyes -were eagerly bent forward upon the doorway of the chapel, and every -ear turned to hear whether any one was approaching. The moment after, -the sound of horses' feet beating the sandy road at a rapid rate, -could be distinguished. They came quickly on, without pause till they -reached the chapel, then halted, apparently opposite the crucifix, and -a brief interval followed. Then approaching steps were heard, and the -figures of several men were seen through the long aisle making -straight towards the door. The first that entered, with bonnet on his -bead, and sword and dagger by his side, was Ferdinand of Altenburg. -His look was calm and firm, his bearing was high and almost stern, and -he walked on up the aisle without pause or hesitation, gazing over the -faces of those before him with a steadfast and unwavering eye. Close -upon his steps came four men completely armed, all except the head, -which was covered only by the common velvet cap of the time; but the -persons assembled round the table remarked that each in his bonnet -bore three long feathers, usually the sign of knightly rank; and as -the eye dropped to the heel of each armed figure, the gilded spurs -buckled to the broad strap across the instep, showed that the honours -of chivalry had indeed been received. Most of them were men well -advanced in life; and on the faces of two were sundry scars, as if -from ancient wounds; but on those two countenances the eye of the -Count of Ehrenstein fixed with an eager and inquiring look, and his -cheek grew pale as they came nearer and more near.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Surely," he exclaimed at length, "I have seen you before."</p> - -<p class="normal">Whether the two knights did not perceive that his words were addressed -to them, or whether they were unwilling to reply, they spoke not; and -Ferdinand of Altenburg, taking another step forward, laid his hand -upon the table, saying, in a firm, clear tone, "My lords and noble -knights, I am here according to my word, to answer aught that may be -brought against me, and to pray your judgment in all causes between me -and this good lord here present, he and I having both pledged -ourselves to abide by your decision, in whatever the one may have -against the other."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay, bold boy!" exclaimed the Count of Ehrenstein; "the cause -we have here to try, is solely my charge against you, for treason -against your sworn lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not so, noble Sir," replied Ferdinand, calmly and respectfully; "such -was not the tenor of my letter; therein I said that I would bow -without appeal to the decree of this court in all matters between you -and me, provided you would pledge yourself to do the same. To that -pledge Count Frederick assented in your name, and to him appeal as -witness if I speak the truth."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You do assuredly, young gentleman," replied Count Frederick; "such -were the terms of the compact."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have been deceived," muttered the Count of Ehrenstein, bitterly, -gnawing his lower lip.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Bird-lime! bird-lime!" said the jester, from behind.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well," cried the Count, after an angry pause, "it matters not. Let it -go forward: you can have no cause of complaint against me; and first, -as in due order, I will call for judgment upon you. What you will deny -and what you will admit, I know not; but I am armed with full proof of -your base treachery, should your impudence fail you here, and you deny -your guilt."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord, I am here," replied Ferdinand of Altenburg, "to acknowledge -and to justify every act that I have done. I refuse you, however, for -my judge, as you are my accuser; and I call upon these noble gentlemen -to pronounce a just sentence upon me, being ready to answer every -question they may ask, truly and freely, as if I were before the -throne of Heaven."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is the charge, my lord?" said one of Count Frederick's knights, -turning to the Count of Ehrenstein; "we must have it clearly stated, -if you please."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have written it down here," said the Count of Ehrenstein: "it is -this:" and he proceeded to read as follows:--"that he, Ferdinand of -Altenburg, being my sworn retainer and customary man, eating my bread, -and drinking my wine, and I--having the power of high and low justice -in my own domains,--did, contrary to the laws and customs of the land, -seduce the affections of my only daughter, Adelaide of Ehrenstein; and -did with her, secretly and privately, and contrary to my knowledge and -consent, contract marriage on the night of the fourteenth of this -month, in the chapel of our Lady of Strangers, on the hill of -Ehrenstein; and, moreover, that he, being imprisoned for judgment in -my castle of Ehrenstein, did break forth thence, and fly from the -award of my court; and that he did persuade and induce my daughter -aforesaid to fly with him, or to follow after, to the great wrong and -detriment of his sworn lord. That is the charge. I can prove it fully; -and I claim judgment of death against him, according to the law."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, he laid the paper on the table, and the knight, on his -right, took it up and read it over again in silence.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You hear the charge, Ferdinand of Altenburg," said the gentleman when -he had done perusing it, "and you have expressed a determination to -confess freely all that you have done. It will save us much time and -trouble, if, as I read these charges over to you once again, you -separately state which of them you acknowledge to be true, and which -of them you deny. After you have done so, we will examine the proofs -of all that you declare to be false, and then, upon the whole, hear -your defence. Is there any one who can write here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The knights around were silent; but Count Frederick's chaplain came -forward, saying, "I can, noble Sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then let me ask you, Father, to take down this young gentleman's -replies," said the knight who had before spoken; and as soon as the -chaplain was seated, he continued, addressing Ferdinand of Altenburg, -"Do you acknowledge that you are the sworn retainer and customary man -of the noble Count of Ehrenstein?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, I am not," answered Ferdinand of Altenburg, in a firm and decided -tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count of Ehrenstein looked round to Karl von Mosbach with a laugh, -saying, "We will soon prove that."</p> - -<p class="normal">But the knight who had spoken waved his hand impatiently, saying, "The -proofs hereafter.--Do you acknowledge, Ferdinand of Altenburg, that -you did seduce the affections of the Lady Adelaide of Ehrenstein, and -contract marriage with her in secret, on the night of the fourteenth -of this month, in the chapel of our Lady of Strangers, on the hill of -Ehrenstein?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did win her love," replied Ferdinand, boldly, "and I did contract -marriage with her at the place and on the night you have mentioned; -but neither contrary to law, nor without right, but fully justified in -all I did."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Bold, on my life!" said the Count, setting his teeth hard. "Would I -had you for an hour within the walls of Ehrenstein!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand made no reply, and the knight, after looking over the priest -till he had finished writing the answer, turned again to the paper -containing the charges, and went on to inquire:--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did you, Ferdinand of Altenburg, being imprisoned, and awaiting -judgment of the court of the Count of Ehrenstein, break forth and fly -to escape the award of the said court?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered Ferdinand, again; "I left the castle of Ehrenstein as I -would leave my own house, with full right and power to do so. I was -not imprisoned to await the judgment of any lawful court, but was held -by very empty bonds, that I might be done to death privately, as yon -knight, Karl von Mosbach, knows right well."</p> - -<p class="normal">The old soldier looked down with an embarrassed air, and played -somewhat nervously with the hilt of his dagger; but Ferdinand, after -having eyed him for a moment, went on, "I may as well answer the last -charge at once, to save further trouble. I did not induce the Lady -Adelaide to fly with me, though, as her husband and her rightful lord, -I was fully entitled to take her whither I pleased; but I held no -communication with her, and indeed I could not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What does he mean," cried Karl von Mosbach, anxious to escape from -the immediate question of what was the Count's object in placing the -young gentleman in confinement--"what does he mean by his not being a -sworn retainer and customary man of my good lord the Count? Why, a -dozen of us heard him take the oath."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let us proceed in order," said the other knight; and taking up the -paper which the priest had written, he continued.--"Thus, then, stands -the case: Ferdinand of Altenburg acknowledges that he did, as he is -charged, contract marriage secretly with the Lady Adelaide of -Ehrenstein; but he denies that he was then the sworn retainer and -customary man of the Lord of Ehrenstein. Perhaps we had better keep -this part of the charge separate from the rest, as his guilt or -innocence, both in regard to the act which he acknowledges, and to all -the other charges, must depend upon whether he was or was not, at the -time of this marriage, what is here stated, namely, the sworn retainer -and customary man of him whose daughter he secretly married. What is -your proof, my Lord of Ehrenstein, that he is that which you have -stated?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It shall be quite sufficient," answered the Count; "there are three -or four men here present who have heard the oath taken by him, -Ferdinand of Altenburg, when admitted to serve in arms. Here, Albert, -come forward. Were you, or were you not present when that youth took -the usual oath?"</p> - -<p class="normal">A stout soldier stepped forward with some degree of reluctance -apparent in his countenance and manner; but the question being -repeated, he replied, "I was: we all take it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Repeat the precise words of the oath," said the knight.</p> - -<p class="normal">The man rubbed his head, as if to awaken memory, and then answered, -"As far as I can recollect, it was to serve my lord, in arms, well and -truly, and to defend him in life and goods at the peril of his head."</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Frederick's knights looked at each other, and the one who had -been the only spokesman said, "This renders him an armed retainer in -military service, but not a customary man. Where is the proof of -that?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is a fact of common notoriety," answered the Count of Ehrenstein, -"that he for years has taken my bread and wine, and that, together -with this oath, makes him my customary man."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay," replied the knight; "he might be your guest, my noble lord. -There is more required to show him your customary man than that. Have -you given him wages or hire, fee or reward?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Wages or hire he has not had," answered the Count of Ehrenstein; "for -he had ever money of his own; but he has had arms and horses of me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fine fee or reward that," cried the jester from behind; "the means of -getting his skull cracked, or breaking his neck."</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is something in the shape of recompense, assuredly," said Count -Frederick's knight, musing.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You seem learned in the law, Sir," said the Count of Ehrenstein, with -a sneer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am, my good lord," answered the knight, with cold calmness. "I have -studied the laws and customs of knighthood and nobility since first I -buckled on my spurs, now five-and-twenty years ago; and I have often -found the knowledge serviceable to myself and others, as here also it -is likely to prove. But let us proceed: you have given this young -gentleman arms and horses, you say, as recompense and wages for the -services he has sworn to perform. It is a somewhat doubtful point -whether this will render him your man; but I think it will, if--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" cried the Count, "what is the <i>if</i>? The case is as clear as -light. He is my man; and I claim him as such. Where is there an <i>if</i>?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was about to show you," said the knight; "for there are several -conditions which would bar your claim. He must have received them and -acknowledged them as payment, not as a free gift, not as a loan to -serve you with in war. He must be of inferior degree."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thank you, noble Sir," said Ferdinand of Altenburg, interposing, -"for your strictness in seeing justice done me; but I will avail -myself of no doubtful points of law to shield what I have done. The -Lady Adelaide's love I have won, the Lady Adelaide's hand I have -gained. I have done it boldly, and boldly will I justify it; denying -all power in her father to judge me as his man, or to do aught but -treat me as noble to noble. He has no law that can touch me; he has no -authority that can bind me. I here proclaim, and by this I will abide, -that by no possibility could I ever become his man, though he might -become mine. Nay more, I say that his bread I have never eaten; that -his wine I have never drunk; that his horses or arms have I never -received; that to the Count of Ehrenstein have I taken no oath."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The youth is mad," exclaimed the Count; and all present looked from -one to the other with surprise, as boldly and even vehemently -Ferdinand of Altenburg poured forth such startling assertions.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, he is mad enough," said old Karl von Mosbach; "that is clear."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pray, good youth," said the Count, with a look of contemptuous pity, -"by what title have you fed in my castle, ridden with my band, or used -my arms, and in what position do you stand as to the oath between us?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"As your sovereign lord," replied Ferdinand of Altenburg, in a clear -distinct voice. "As the head of your house, the chief of your name; -and you as my poor kinsman without wealth, or land, or station. The -bread I ate, the wine I drank, was mine, from my own fields and -vineyards; the horses, arms, are all my own. The castle in which you -held me was mine, and Ferdinand of Ehrenstein is not come here so much -to answer your vain charge, as to claim his own. Whisper not to -Mosbach, my good uncle, with so pale a cheek. The troops with which -you so carefully surrounded me here this night, thinking--if those -noble knights acquitted me--to secure your prey in violation of your -word, are prisoners and disarmed; and Mosbach can do nothing of all -that you would wish him. Ay, noble Count Frederick, you may well gaze -at him with surprise; for though you doubted some foul play, as I -judged by the precautions you had taken, you know not the extent of -the treachery, and that every vassal from the lands of Ehrenstein, far -outnumbering your parties, have been drawn round us, like a net to -catch the deer. But his craft has fallen upon his own head; and the -castle, which he thought secure when he left it, is now beyond his -power. He stripped it of all that could defend it, and now it is safe -enough; but in other hands."</p> - -<p class="normal">At this last intimation the Count of Ehrenstein startled up and laid -his hand upon his sword, with his eyes flashing fire, and exclaiming, -"Liar and villain! do you come here with such an idle tale, trumped up -by your crafty uncle, to thrust his brother's bastard into the -patrimony of a noble house. I can prove that you are the child of -Charles of Altenburg. Out upon it! Listen not to him, noble knights; -but proceed to judgment on this foul calumniator. Count Frederick, my -noble friend, you will not doubt me, I am sure. I brought with me but -what force was needful to guard me in these troublous times, and if -that youth has dared with any bands--perchance the remnants of -Eppenfeld's force--to--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will confound you in a moment!" cried Ferdinand of Altenburg, in a -loud voice. "Ho! without there! Bring in the Baron of Eppenfeld. Now, -Sir, if, in your heart, there be secrets connected with this man that -you would have concealed; if you have plotted, colleagued, deceived -with him; if, for dark and secret purposes, you obtained him as your -prisoner from your noble friend there, and then, having driven your -bargain with him, set him free to commit fresh crimes--tremble, I say; -for every long-hidden act is about to be made manifest. Deep, deep, -did you think them covered by the blackest shade of night; but, thanks -to the care and foresight of the eyes that were upon you, they have -all been gathered and recorded so as to leave you no escape. Every -foul crime of the last twenty years shall now be blazoned to the eyes -of the world; and your charge against your brother's son, shall be the -spell that dissolves even the silence of the tomb."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay," exclaimed Count Frederick of Leiningen, as the Count of -Ehrenstein sank back, pale and quivering, against the column behind -him. "These are bold assertions, young gentleman; and should be proved -calmly and deliberately; perhaps were better proved more privately and -temperately."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What! shall I be temperate when my father's blood cries out for -vengeance," exclaimed Ferdinand; "shall I be temperate when my -mother's voice rises from the depth of the waters, and demands -punishment on her murderer? Proved! my Lord Count; I call upon you as -knight, and noble, true, and loyal--and such I hold you to be, if ever -yet man was so--to say here, in presence of all, if, in the castle of -Eppenfeld, you did not find, if even now you do not hold in your -hands, the proofs of this man's treachery towards his brother's wife -and child?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thus adjured, I must not deny it," answered Count Frederick, in a -firm but sad tone. "I did find proofs indubitable, that the late Count -of Ehrenstein, left behind him a widow, an Italian lady of high rank, -and one boy--who might now be of the age of this young man; and, -moreover, that practices most terrible had been used against their -lives."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Still we shall need evidence to show that this young gentleman is the -child so left," said the knight who had chiefly conducted the -proceedings of the court, on the charges against Ferdinand of -Altenburg. "If he can bring forth proof of that fact, of course the -accusation against him falls to the ground."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And I can bring such proof," replied Ferdinand. "Here are my -witnesses beside me."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, two of the armed men who had accompanied him, advanced, -and the elder laid a paper on the table saying, "I tender a copy of -proofs of marriage between Ferdinand Charles, Count of Ehrenstein, and -the Lady Eleanore Sforza, laid before the Imperial chamber, and -registered after examination; and also of the birth of one son, -baptized by the name of Ferdinand, issuing from the same marriage."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And I tender proofs," said the other knight, "of the arrival of the -same lady and her child at Nuremberg, in the month of August, 14--."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We are witnesses to the marriage, to the baptism of the child, and to -the passing of the same lady and her son, as far as Augsburg, in the -month of September, in the year preceding," said one of the two elder -knights, who had not yet spoken; "and that at that time she went under -the assumed name of Meissen."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will now call farther witnesses," said Ferdinand, in a lower tone -than he had yet used, and gazing with feelings difficult to define -upon the bowed figure of the Count, as he sat, apparently almost -crushed to the earth with the torrent of discovery and disgrace which -had poured upon him, "and God is my witness that I do all this with -deep regret. But though the task is a bitter one, yet it must be -accomplished. First, I will call the Baron of Eppenfeld to show--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay," cried the Count, rousing himself by a great effort; "young -man, you play your part boldly, so boldly that I--even I am inclined -to believe, you credit the tale you tell. I know you well, Ferdinand -of Altenburg, and am aware that you are not by nature a good -dissembler. Either you must have faith in what you say, or you must -have learned the great trade of the world quickly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Grace after meat is a good rule," cried the jester, "but I never yet -did hear of so much grace after a bad supper."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nevertheless," continued the Count of Ehrenstein, without heeding the -interruption, "this cause cannot be judged by this court. Long and -close examination, thorough scrutiny of every proof, and the presence -of men well versed in the law, is ever required to convey rich lands -and lordships from a possessor of well nigh twenty years to a new -upstart claimant, first heard of but yesterday."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It required fewer formalities, it seemed," said the jester, "to -convey his head from his shoulders, though, after all, to my thinking, -a man's head is his best possession, for without it he will want the -chief of his title-deeds."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pshaw!" cried the Count, "this is no jesting matter. I boldly -pronounce this claim to be false and fabricated, and I appeal to the -court of the Emperor."</p> - -<p class="normal">He spoke in a loud and resolute tone; and instantly a voice from the -farther part of the chapel answered, "So be it!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The view down the nave had been obstructed by the forms of Ferdinand -and his four companions; and since he had entered, a number of -persons, retainers of the two Counts and others, had gathered round to -hear the proceedings; but at the sound of that voice every one turned -his head, and then drew somewhat back. A lane was formed--the light of -the two torches farther down streamed through--and a tall figure was -seen advancing with slow and stately steps towards the place where the -judges sat.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XLII.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Count Frederick of Leiningen immediately rose from his seat, gazing -forward, as the figure we have described advanced up the nave of the -chapel; and, at the same time, a number of voices exclaimed, "The -Emperor! the Emperor!" Though several steps before any of his -attendants, however, the Emperor was not alone. The clanging step of -armed men was heard behind him; knights, officers, and soldiers were -seen pouring in at the doors of the chapel; a great part of the lower -end of the nave, and both the aisles behind the columns were crowded -with forms, faintly seen in the dim glare of the two torches; and -nought was left vacant but a space of about twenty feet in front of -the spot where the judges sat. The face of the Count of Ehrenstein -turned deadly pale; and his look was certainly not one of satisfaction -at the speedy opportunity afforded of trying the appeal he had just -made. A smile of joy beamed upon the lip of Ferdinand of Altenburg, as -he drew back with those who had accompanied him, to allow the monarch -to pass; but old Karl von Mosbach, though every one else rose, still -kept his seat, with his teeth chattering in his head, as he gazed -round, and saw all means of escape cut off by the armed men who -crowded the chapel.</p> - -<p class="normal">With a firm, proud step, and eyes bent sternly forward, his bonnet and -plume upon his head, and his mantle thrown back from his shoulders, -the Emperor advanced up the aisle, having his sheathed sword unbuckled -in his left hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well met, knights and nobles," he said, coming near the table; "what -cause judge you here, with our Imperial Court so near as Spires?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"We knew not, my lord, when this meeting was appointed, that you were -so soon expected," said Count Frederick of Leiningen, "or we might -have referred the trial of the case to you; but this young gentleman -voluntarily submitted himself to the judgment of those here assembled; -and it was agreed, on both parts, that there should be no -appeal--though this good Lord of Ehrenstein has thought fit to make -one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There must ever be an appeal to the Imperial Court," said the -monarch, moving round to take the seat which Count Frederick had -placed for him, in the centre of the table. "No agreement can -frustrate the laws of this empire. Therefore the Count's appeal is -good; and we will hear it this night, having already some cognizance -of the questions in debate."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he seated himself, laying his sheathed sword upon the -table, and waving his hand to some gentlemen who had followed him more -closely than the rest of his train. Six of these immediately advanced, -and arranged themselves round the table, as if about to form a new -court. The knights and gentlemen who had accompanied Count Frederick -of Leiningen and the Count of Ehrenstein, looked at each other and -their lords with a glance of hesitation, not knowing whether to -withdraw or not; and while Count Frederick turned his eyes to the -Emperor, the Count of Ehrenstein bent his upon the ground, by no means -well satisfied, notwithstanding the favour the Emperor had shown his -appeal, that his cause should be tried by a tribunal completely -independent of his influence.</p> - -<p class="normal">After a moment's wavering doubt, one or two of those who had -previously occupied seats round the table, took a step back, as if to -withdraw, and give up their places to the Imperial Councillors; but -the Emperor stopped them, saying, "Stay, gentlemen, stay; we will have -your assistance likewise, as you have already heard this cause in -part; and we will abridge some forms, to come at the truth. Who is -this young gentleman that stands before us, with two of the officers -of our own court, and some other knights, whom we do not know?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Before any one could answer in a more formal manner, the Count of -Ehrenstein exclaimed, vehemently, "This, my lord the Emperor, is the -bastard son of Charles, Count of Altenburg, brought up by cunning -Brother George, the monk, and tutored by him to steal away my -daughter, and to put in a false claim to my inheritance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How is this, young man?" said the Emperor, looking gravely at -Ferdinand of Altenburg; "is this charge true? I pray you, remember -that this shall be sifted to the very bottom, and the severest -punishment of the law shall fall upon him who speaks falsely. Answer -me,--is this true?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is false, my lord," replied Ferdinand, in a calm, firm tone; "I -claim here, before your court, to be received and acknowledged as -Count of Ehrenstein, and to receive the lands and lordships thereof, -doing homage, and rendering service for them as fiefs of the empire; -and I am ready, even now, to prove my title; so that there shall be no -doubt left."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! you are well-tutored, I can believe," exclaimed the Count; but -Ferdinand went on, not heeding his interruption, saying, "I have -already tendered proofs from the Imperial Chancery, of the marriage of -my late father, the Count of Ehrenstein, and also of my own birth."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of the birth of a son," exclaimed the Count of Ehrenstein; "a son, -who perished afterwards, as well as his mother."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then," cried the Emperor, turning to him quickly, "you admit -the marriage of your brother, and the birth of a son issuing from that -marriage?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count of Ehrenstein was silent, gnawing his under lip, and fixing -his eyes upon the table; but Count Frederick of Leiningen replied to -the Emperor's question, "He cannot deny it, mighty lord; proofs that -admit of no doubt are now in hands of these two noble knights; -officers, as I understand, of your Imperial Court."</p> - -<p class="normal">"This simplifies the question greatly," said the Emperor; "let me look -at the papers."</p> - -<p class="normal">The officers who had before produced them immediately presented them -to their Imperial Lord, who examined them closely, looked at the seals -and the numerous signatures of authentication, and then returned them, -saying, "They are in due form, and perfect in every respect. There can -be no doubt. This part of the case is proved; it remains for you, -young gentleman, to establish on unquestionable evidence that you are -the son thus born, otherwise these facts go for nothing."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It shall be done, my lord, clearly and step by step; but I would fain -know whether your Majesty judges best, that I should commence from the -period of this son's birth, and trace his life downward, till you find -him here before you, or to go back from the present with my past -history, till it connects itself with that of the son of whose birth -you have proof."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The latter were the better course," said the Emperor; "for, as things -that have lately happened are more likely to be within mean's memories -than things remote, we shall more speedily and easily arrive at a -flaw, if there be one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The last twelve years of my life, my lord," replied Ferdinand, "are -known to many here present. During that period, or nearly that period, -I have dwelt in the castle of Ehrenstein, first as a page, then as a -squire to my uncle, calling himself Count of Ehrenstein--is this -admitted, or does it require proof?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pshaw!" exclaimed the Count of Ehrenstein; "we all know the kindness -that for twelve years you have received at my hands, and how you have -repaid it. It is admitted, ay, and proved, that for that time you have -been a retainer in the castle of Ehrenstein; but who placed you -there?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Father George of Altenburg," replied the young gentleman, "by whom, -during the two years preceding, I was educated at the abbey of--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"To be sure," exclaimed the Count again, "who should educate his -brother's bastard but the monk?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"To refute this," replied Ferdinand of Altenburg, "I will call the -monk himself, who can prove from whose hands he received me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let the monk be called," exclaimed the Emperor; "summon Father George -of Altenburg by the sound of the trumpet. We must have his evidence, -or adjourn our sitting."</p> - -<p class="normal">These words gave a fresh hope to the Count of Ehrenstein; for to have -delayed the investigation, even for a short time, would have delivered -him from the immediate presence of the Imperial guards, whose -proximity did not at all please him, and would have enabled him to -employ any of those many means of resisting right, which were often -resorted to successfully in those days. But the instant after, a -trumpet sounded at the door of the chapel, and the name of Father -George was pronounced. After a moment's pause, the crowd that filled -the lower part of the building, began to move and fall back on either -hand, and the tall form and fine countenance of the monk was seen -advancing up the aisle.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is all concerted," muttered the Count of Ehrenstein to himself; -"the cause is judged before it is heard."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Emperor, however, without noticing his half audible words, raised -his voice and addressed Father George of Altenburg, even before he had -reached the table, saying, "Father, we have ever heard that you are a -good and holy man, and we now call upon you to speak truth, and to -tell us who is that young man now standing before us, as you will -answer to God."</p> - -<p class="normal">"This," said Father George, laying his left hand upon Ferdinand's -shoulder, "is Ferdinand of Ehrenstein, the son of my beloved friend, -the late Count."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Can you prove this fact?" inquired the monarch; "for this is a matter -of serious import, and we must not decide hastily, even upon the -showing of a holy man like you. From whom did you receive this boy, -that you so well know he is Ferdinand of Ehrenstein?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"From his own mother, my lord the Emperor," replied Father George; -"that is to say, not from her own hands; for unhappily I was not -present when she was seized with the fever at Nuremburg; but at the -point of death, when she had received extreme unction, and had taken -leave of all worldly things, she sent him to me by one who had been -faithful and true to her, and who brought him safely to the abbey, and -delivered him into my hands, in the time of Abbot Waldimer."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But what proof had you that this was the son of the Countess of -Ehrenstein; how did you know that it was not the son of some one -else?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I had often seen the boy before;" replied Father George: "from his -infancy up to that hour, I had never been two months without holding -him on my knee. He changed, it is true, from the soft infant in the -nurse's arms, to the light, wild, vigorous boy; but in that slow and -gradual change something still remained which showed the same being -was there before my eyes: one day bore over to the next the lineaments -of my dead friend's child; and though in each two months I could see a -difference in the boy, yet there were the same eyes looked upon me, -the same lips smiled when I spoke to him. It was like a sapling that I -watched and nourished, increasing in height, putting forth leaves and -flowers, but still the same, whether as the tall tree or the young -shoot."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You say a faithful servant brought him to you," said the Emperor, -after pausing a moment, when Father George had done speaking; "is that -person still living?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is, my lord, and is here," answered the monk.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Call him," rejoined the Emperor; and Father George raising his voice, -pronounced the name of Franz Creussen, when immediately from one of -the side aisles, pushed forward between the columns the gigantic form -of the blacksmith: no longer, indeed, in the garb of his trade, but -armed from the neck to the heel in black armour. His head alone was -bare, with the short, curly hair sweeping round his bold face.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! our good friend the blacksmith, who shod my horse the other day -in the woods," exclaimed the Emperor; "but how is it, friend? You seem -to have changed your trade."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But taken up my old one, Kaiser," answered the deep thundering voice -of Franz Creussen. "I was bred to arms, and hammered on enemies' heads -before I touched an anvil."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then how came you to change one profession for the other?" asked the -Emperor.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, every man has many reasons for one thing," said Franz Creussen; -"mine were partly a fondness for iron, partly to gain my bread at a -time when no wars were going on, partly to watch and protect this boy, -my dead lord's child."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then you, too, know him to be the son of the late Count of -Ehrenstein?" said the Emperor.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He was the late Count's lady's son," answered Franz Creussen, -bluffly; "and the Count never doubted he was his own."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And did you bring him to Father George," inquired the Emperor, "at -his mother's death?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The case is this, my lord," replied the blacksmith: "I never quitted -the dear good lady for any length of time, from the hour when we set -out from Venice, till the hour when she told me to carry the lad to -Father George of Altenburg, and made me swear that I would watch and -guard him at the peril of my life. I was not always with her, I was -not always in the house; for when we arrived at Augsburg, we had -notice that yon lord, the Count's brother, had seized upon the lands, -had strangled poor Rudolph of Oggersheim, who bore him the tidings of -his brother's fate, and had set men to waylay us and destroy us, so -that he might enjoy the inheritance in peace. It was needful, -therefore, to keep quiet, and to watch shrewdly, too; and I, with the -rest of the men, kept guard about the place, riding here, and riding -there, for news, till we were all obliged to fly together, having -tidings from Father George here, that the Baron of Eppenfeld had set -out with all his band, to carry off the lady and her child, and drown -them in the Danube, by orders of yon lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is false!" cried the Count of Ehrenstein; "it is a bitter -falsehood!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"False!" thundered Franz Creussen; "if I had you on this side of the -table, I would cleave you to the jaws;" and he ran his hand angrily -over his heated brow; but, the next minute he added with a laugh: "I -will do better, I will convict you. I have a witness here you wot not -of.--Ho! my men, bring in the prisoner, bring in the Baron of -Eppenfeld.--The truth shall appear at length, Count William. Ha! you -tremble and turn pale, to find that he whom you let out of Ehrenstein -has fallen into the hands of Franz Creussen."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count of Ehrenstein remained silent; and well he might, for there, -in the presence of the Emperor, guarded by two stout soldiers, stood -the Baron of Eppenfeld, with the same look of careless, almost gay, -indifference which we have seen him bear on so many and so varied -occasions, without a touch of fear, of embarrassment or remorse.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! plunderer and knave, have you been caught at length?" exclaimed -the Emperor, with his eyes flashing, as he gazed upon the Baron. "By -the Lord that lives! I will put down such as you within this empire, -so that the memory of your cruel deeds and of your terrible punishment -shall become a tale to frighten children with."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Faith! my good Lord," replied the Baron; "if you do that, you will -have to sweep your house clean; for I am not one whit worse than at -least a half of your good nobles, only I have done what I thought fit -to do somewhat more openly. To take men's purses sword in hand, to my -mind, is not half so bad as to rot their reputation with a smooth -tongue; to make men's merchandise pay toll on the highways of the -world is a better deed than to ruin them by false accusations; to -fight against strong men with harness on their backs, better than to -skin poor boors alive who have no means of defending themselves."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is some truth in what you say," replied the Emperor; "yet you -shall find that other men's crimes shall not excuse your own. Now, -what know you of this Lord of Ehrenstein, here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I know a good deal," answered the Baron, with a careless laugh; -"but look you, Lord Emperor, you have used sharp words to my ear, and -if I take your meaning rightly, you intend to use a sharp axe on my -neck. Now, I say, out upon those fools who babble when they die! The -wolf, the wolf is the brave beast who will not give one howl when the -dogs worry him. If there be any profit in speaking, I will speak; but -if I am to go on the long march, I will troop off in silence. If there -be any choice which is to go, the Lord of Ehrenstein or I, why, I -would decline the honour, and beg him to lead the way; but if I am to -go at all events, I do not need his company. I can travel alone quite -well to the low bed in the dark house."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your very words are a confession, robber," replied the Emperor; "and -you shall die whether you speak or not. I will not barter justice due -on one man's head, even for evidence against another, perhaps not less -guilty."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can supply the testimony he refuses to give, mighty lord," said -Count Frederick of Leiningen, in a grave tone. "It is with deep regret -that I place in your Majesty's hands these papers, taken by me when we -stormed the castle of Eppenfeld. I have looked over them, and have -held them until now, in the hope that one who was a companion of my -boyhood would show some signs of repentance for deeds so black as -those disclosed this night; but now I am bound to give them up, that -justice may be done. You will there see the price given, or offered, -for the death of Ferdinand of Ehrenstein and his mother, and will find -full proof of the truth of all that good Franz Creussen has advanced."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count of Ehrenstein folded his arms upon his chest, and raised his -head haughtily. "All are against me here," he said, in a stern and -bitter tone. "My lord the Emperor, I did not come here prepared for -these charges. False and groundless I pronounce them to be; and false -and groundless I will prove them; but I still require time to call my -own evidence, and to send for some who are now at a distance, but who -can show that this accusation has been devised to ruin me; that those -papers are fabricated; and that this Baron of Eppenfeld has long -threatened me with disclosing the pretended treachery on my part -against my brother's widow, sometimes affirming, sometimes -denying--ay, even in writing--that his charge was true. Here is one -present,--this very reverend priest, the chaplain of Count -Ferdinand,--who has seen his denial of all these charges; nay, more, -who even saw him sign it, and read it over to him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha! ha! ha! my friend, the knave!" cried the Baron of Eppenfeld. "Say -you so?--say you so? What, these are all lies of my invention, are -they? 'Tis good--'tis mighty good. But now, remember, I spare you no -more. I was quite ready to do you a good turn, and die--if needs must -be--without speaking; but now you turn so ungratefully upon me, all -the truth shall out."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You see, my mighty lord," said the Count, turning to the Emperor, -"that he is moved by every breath of passion, and not by the simple -voice of truth. Let the priest speak. Did he, or did he not, my -reverend friend, sign a paper, denying all these charges to be true, -after having heard every word written therein read clearly over to -him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Even so," answered the priest, in a deliberate tone; "he heard the -paper read, and made some marks meant for his name, though the -orthography was aught but good; and at the same time he told me, by -way of protest, that he signed to save his life, which you had -threatened to take, by secret means, in prison to gain a chance of -liberty, which you had promised, and to obtain a certain sum of money, -which was to be added, to send him on his way."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a deep silence for a minute, while all eyes were fixed upon -the Count of Ehrenstein, whose eyes seemed to grow dim and glassy, and -whose cheek was deadly pale. It was he himself who spoke first, -however, saying, in a faltering tone, "I claim time, my lord; I claim -time to meet an accusation long prepared and carefully devised, and to -bring forward proofs that this youth is not what he pretends to be."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Time you shall have, Sir," replied the Emperor, sternly, "to meet the -dark charges brought against you. It is but right you should; and we -will see justice done you on that score; though, if it be proved that -this young gentleman is Count of Ehrenstein, to his court, as your -sovereign lord, for all lands you hold, are you amenable for all -crimes done against him. You shall have time, as I have said; but it -shall be in sure custody. Ho! Count Rudolph, advance, and receive the -body of William, calling himself Count of Ehrenstein, to produce -before our Imperial Court, at Spires, when need shall be, on peril of -all that you can forfeit to the empire."</p> - -<p class="normal">Count Rudolph of Schönborn, came forward with two men-at-arms, and -laid his hand upon the Count of Ehrenstein's shoulder, saying, "Your -sword, my good lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count gave it up, without vain resistance; and the Emperor -leaned his head upon his hand, with his eyes fixed upon the papers, -as if lost in thought of their contents. At length, after a silent -pause of more than a minute, Ferdinand--whom we have called of -Altenburg--advanced a step, and said, in a low and deferential voice, -"I pray you, mighty Sir, to judge at once the cause between me and my -uncle here present, concerning the lands of Ehrenstein. He came -hither, pledging himself to abide, in all things betwixt him and me, -by the decision of the noble gentlemen whom you found here assembled. -Upon an after-thought, he appealed to your Imperial Majesty; and -though he was barred by previous renunciation, I am as ready to submit -to your high judgment as he can be; but I would fain have it speedy, -as my men even now hold the castle of Ehrenstein, which he left nearly -ungarrisoned, in order to seize me here, if the cause should go -against him. Now I am not disposed to hold, even for an hour, that -which is not mine; and if my claim be not made good this night, I am -ready to withdraw my people from his house."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You speak well, young gentleman," said the Emperor; "and it is but -fit that, ere the deep and terrible accusation which has been urged -before us be tried upon its merits, we should know whether you be his -vassal or he yours. As far as we have hitherto gone, the weight of -proof seems in your favour; and, casting aside all consideration of -the crimes with which he is charged, we will freely examine your title -as you can further prove it. Remove that Baron of Eppenfeld, till we -can deal with him further."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay," cried the Baron, shaking off the hands of two stout -soldiers, who were about to take him somewhat unceremoniously from the -Emperor's presence; "I can tell you something that will soon settle -all your doubts, if you will promise me good meat and drink.--I mean -warm wine of Ingelheim, or better still, of Eberbach, till I die."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That you shall have," said the Emperor, with a smile crossing his -face against his will, "if you do clear up all doubts. What is it you -have to say?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"This," replied the Baron: "When I was setting out for Augsburg, to do -the bidding of my noble friend the Count here, he informed me, in -order to make right sure that I fell into no mistake regarding his -nephew, that the poor man he put to death had told him there was a -cross marked in deep blue upon the boy's left side, above the -heart--stamped there by magic, for aught I know, but so that no water -would bring it out--in memory of his father's journey to the Holy -Land. They are the Count's own words. I am not sure that you may not -find them there in the letter; for I read little, and write less; so -that--as time flies, and memories fly with it--I know not whether the -hint was written or spoken; but be you sure that if the mark be on his -breast, he is the heir. If not, he may be any man else's son, but not -the late good Count of Ehrenstein's--a worthy man he was as ever drew -a sword."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" said the Emperor, fixing his eyes upon him; "I thought he had -been your enemy, and curbed, with a strong hand, your lawless doings."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, my lord Emperor," answered the Baron; "but yet, though the lion -rends us and we fly him, we love him better than the wolf, and own him -for a gallant beast. The last Count was fierce enough with us who live -after the old fashion. He slew William of Feldhofen, and burnt the -castle of John of Bernau; but yet he did it all manly, with notice -given and banner on the wind; man to man, and lance to lance. He was a -true friend or a true enemy, and not like that man, who will use and -betray. But look to the boy's breast. I will swear that the words were -spoken--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"They are written here," rejoined the Emperor; "but he calls the child -in this letter his brother's bastard, and speaks of the mother as a -concubine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is disproved by these papers, and two competent witnesses, -mighty lord," said the knight who had taken so active a part in -examining the Count's charges against Ferdinand: "the only question -remaining for decision is, whether this youth, who was placed by the -good monk Father George under the care of that noble lord, is the boy -who came with the Countess of Ehrenstein from Venice."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The monk declares it, and this good man, Franz Creussen, also," -answered the Emperor; "but the latter is not of noble blood."</p> - -<p class="normal">Franz Creussen laughed aloud. "Ah, ha!" he said, "as if an honest man -were not an honest man, because he does not wear beasts and birds -embroidered on his shirt. You have there a proof how a proud noble can -lie and cheat;" and he pointed to the Count of Ehrenstein, adding, -"but look at the boy's breast. His uncle writes to have the boy who -was brought to Augsburg killed, and says he is marked with a cross. We -say this is the boy; and if the cross be there, 'tis proof, taken with -our oaths. Then you have the testimony of two knights, and sundry -papers, that the boy so brought was born in lawful wedlock. What want -you more? But if you want it, you shall have it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What he says is true," replied the monarch; "the mark here described, -if found upon him, will be strong corroborative evidence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is here, my lord," said Ferdinand, opening the bosom of his -doublet; "I have borne it from a child;" and there, upon his left -breast, appeared in faint blue lines, but perfectly distinct, the -figure of a cross.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lucky you bathed not in the good Count's presence," said a voice -behind Count Frederick of Leiningen; "or he would have had out the -heart that pants beneath the cross."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, noble lords," exclaimed the Emperor, not noticing this -interruption, "you have heard the evidence in this strange case; and -to you I will leave the judgment, reserving to myself to see it -carried out, with all regard to speedy justice."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a short pause, and then the knight, who was fond of all the -niceties of feudal law, observed, "This good man, Franz Creussen, has -said there can be more evidence brought. It were well that we heard -all that can be testified, so that no doubt may remain on the mind of -any one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay," said the Emperor: "ere you go farther, in order to give this -lord the chance of atoning for the wrong he has done, and meriting -grace from him whom he has wronged, let him be asked the question, -Does he yield to testimony which to us seems most conclusive?--does he -acknowledge that this is his brother's lawful son? Will he at once -give up lands and lordships he unjustly holds, or will he resist, and -have the whole knavery unravelled to the last thread?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Few there present had looked at the face of the Count of Ehrenstein -for some minutes, as he stood somewhat behind, with Count Rudolph's -men-at-arms on either side; but had they turned their eyes that way -they would have beheld the working of strong passions on a countenance -long trained to withstand emotions, and still resisting in a degree -their influence.</p> - -<p class="normal">At first, and especially when the evidence of the Baron of Eppenfeld -was given regarding the cross, he had more than once seemed about to -interrupt the proceedings with some vehement burst of passion; but -gradually his countenance fell, his firmness seemed to forsake him. -His cheek, indeed, could not well grow paler than it had been for some -time; but his lip quivered, his eye sought the ground, his hands -grasping his sword-belt moved convulsively, and even his cheeks looked -wan and hollow. The last words of the Emperor he seemed hardly to -hear; but when Count Rudolph repeated them to him, he started and -replied, after a gasp for breath, "I appeal to a freer court--to a -court--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"A freer court!" exclaimed the Emperor in an angry tone, while Count -Frederick of Leiningen whispered something to him; but ere the -sentence was finished a loud voice seemed to the Count of Ehrenstein -to cry, "A freer court you shall have. I summon you to the court of -the dead! William of Ehrenstein, appear before the seat of your true -judge!"</p> - -<p class="normal">At the same moment it appeared to the eyes of the culprit, that the -light of the two torches suddenly went out; the chapel was left almost -in darkness, illuminated only by the small lamp that stood upon the -table. The Emperor and all the knights rose and drew back, as if in -fear; and by the faint rays that streamed down the aisle he beheld a -change on the figures that crowded round. Armed men and officers, and -forms robed in silks and furs disappeared; and sweeping up in a -shadowy circle, there came a line of tall dark figures, each covered -with a long grey garment not unlike a shroud. Each held in the -gauntleted hand, not by the hilt, but by the cold blade, a naked -sword; and behind the semicircle, which stretched from one side of the -chapel to the other, rose a number of old dusty banners and pennons, -tattered and soiled, and stained apparently with blood. A chair--moved -forward by hands that were not seen--was placed in the midst, and one -of the tall grey figures, with the hood of his robe falling far over -the face, and the folds enveloping the chin and mouth, seated itself -therein, and waved the hand as if for silence. Instantly a trumpet was -heard echoing round and round the old walls, and a solemn voice -proclaimed, "William of Ehrenstein, appear before your liege lord and -brother, dead in the year of grace 14--, and answer to the charge of -treason and felony, for that you did incite his vassals to do him to -death; for that you did slay in prison his faithful henchman, Rudolph -of Oggersheim; for that you did attempt to murder his widow and his -son, your lord. Stand forth, and answer to these charges, as God shall -give you courage!" and again came a loud blast of the trumpet.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count of Ehrenstein felt himself free, for those who had stood -beside him had drawn back. He gazed wildly round him--took a step -forward--stretched forth his hands as if struck with sudden blindness, -and then fell prone to the ground without sense or motion.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XLIII.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">When the Count of Ehrenstein opened his eyes, it seemed to him as if -he were in a dream, or as if he had been dreaming. The shrouded -figures, the darkened chapel, all had passed away, and everything was -restored to the same state as it had been before the awful apparition -had presented itself to his sight. There sat the Emperor in the centre -of the table, the knights forming the court were placed around. -Ferdinand, Father George, Franz Creussen, and those who had followed -them, stood in the centre aisle; the torches glided upon the walls and -pillars, and the end of the nave was crowded with the gaily dressed -nobles and officers of the Imperial Court. He himself, supported by -two guards, was seated on a settle, a few yards to the left of the -Emperor; and Count Rudolph of Schönborn, with his arm crossed upon his -chest, was gazing at him attentively, as if watching the progress of -his recovery.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next moment, the Emperor's voice was heard, saying, in a loud -stern tone, "We can wait no longer; we must proceed to judgment."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, my lord, stay," replied Count Rudolph; "he revives, he is -opening his eyes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where am I?" murmured the Count, in a low tone. "What has become of -them? Where have they gone to?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Whom do you mean?" asked Count Rudolph, gravely.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My brother and his followers," said the Count, closing his eyes -again, as if afraid of beholding some dreadful sight. "I saw them -there--there before me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your brain has wandered, my good lord," said Count Rudolph; "all are -here present who have been here to-night."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is a warning from Heaven," observed the voice of Father George, -"calling upon a bad man, perhaps for the last time, to repent of what -he has wrongly done, and to make restitution of what he unjustly -holds. Let him obey the voice of conscience, before it be too late."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your last words, my lord," said Count Rudolph, "uttered just before -you fell, were insulting to the Emperor and his court. You appealed to -another tribunal; but, from what you have just said, it would seem -that you were not then in command of your understanding. Doubtless, -the Emperor will take this into consideration, and hear anything that -you may have to say before he pronounces judgment between you and your -nephew, as he is about to do."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count rose feebly, with a pale cheek and haggard eye; and Count -Frederick of Leiningen, who was gazing at him, exclaimed, in an eager -and a friendly tone, "I beseech you, William of Ehrenstein, do -justice, and remember equity. To every one here present, I believe, -this case seems perfectly clear. Your brother's son stands before -you--there cannot be a doubt of it. It is proved that he was born in -lawful marriage; yield to him that which is rightly his; and, by a -grateful acquiescence in that which you cannot prevent, atone for the -past, and induce him not to inquire farther into deeds that it were -best to leave obscure."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A little comfortable darkness is not unpleasant to most men," said -the jester, from behind his lord; but the Count of Ehrenstein waved -his hand fiercely, exclaiming, "I will never yield that which is mine -to this base tissue of forged evidence. My lands may be torn from me -by the arm of power; but I will not consent to the tyranny that wrongs -me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Have you aught more to say?" demanded the Emperor, gazing at him -sternly. The Count was silent, rolling his eyes around, as if seeking -for something to reply, and finding naught; and the monarch, after a -moment's pause, proceeded.</p> - -<p class="normal">"To your judgment, noble lords, I leave this cause," he said. "You -will consider, first, whether you have evidence sufficient; next, if -you have, you will judge whether the claim of this young gentleman be, -or be not, fully substantiated. I will have no voice therein, but -leave you free to decide upon these questions, that no man hereafter -may say you have been influenced by aught but your own sense of right -and justice." Thus saying, he rose from his seat, and took two steps -back, standing with his arms folded upon his chest, and his eyes bent -upon the ground. A low and murmured consultation instantly took place -amongst the gentlemen round the table; and, after a very short -hesitation, the eldest rose, and, turning to the Emperor, said, "We -have decided, my lord, that the evidence is fully sufficient."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then judge upon it," replied the Emperor, briefly. "I am here to see -your judgment executed."</p> - -<p class="normal">Again a low murmured consultation took place, and, once more, the old -knight rose and said, "We find, upon the evidence tendered to us by -Ferdinand, hitherto called of Altenburg, that he is the lawful son of -the late Count Ferdinand Charles of Ehrenstein, and as such entitled -to the lands, lordships, rights, and privileges of the house of -Ehrenstein, upon doing due and customary homage, and rendering such -service to the Imperial Crown as his predecessors have done before -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a dead silence for a moment. The Count clenched his hands -tight together, and gnashed his teeth; and then Count Frederick of -Leiningen, and Father George of Altenburg, took Ferdinand by the hand, -and led him between them to the Emperor. He was about to kneel, and -tender homage at once; but the monarch took him in his arms, and -embraced him, saying, "I give you joy, young Sir, upon the recovery of -your own. Reserve your homage, however, for another day, when it shall -be received in public, in our city of Spires. At present, there is -another task before you, and one more form to be gone through, before -I place you in that chair, to take the first steps in judging those -who have wronged you." He then raised his voice, and said, aloud, "Let -the trumpet sound, and the herald call upon any one who denies that -Ferdinand, hitherto named 'of Altenburg,' is of right, Count of -Ehrenstein, to come forward now, and show cause why he should not be -pronounced such by the Imperial Court, and received to homage -accordingly. Sound!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Instantly the trumpet sounded at the door of the chapel, and a herald -made proclamation in due form. All men listened to the words in -silence, not, indeed, expecting any reply, except it were from Count -William.</p> - -<p class="normal">To the surprise of all, however, a voice, not very far from where the -Emperor stood, exclaimed aloud, "I do deny his title!"</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a slight movement among the crowd; the lords and knights -made way for the appellant; all eyes from the other parts of the -chapel turned in the direction of the altar, and wonder, not unmixed -with scorn, was depicted on every countenance but two or three, when -the jester advanced from the group around the Emperor, and took his -way straight towards the chair in which the monarch had lately sat.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What foolery is this?" cried one.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Cast the mad fellow out!" said another.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is no time for such jests," said a third.</p> - -<p class="normal">But, with a firm and lordly step, a head held high, and an air of -dignity and command in his whole look, the jester walked up to the -table, seated himself in the central chair, and then looking round to -the knights who had pronounced judgment, he said, in a loud, clear -voice, "You have pronounced that Ferdinand of Ehrenstein is the lawful -son of Ferdinand Charles, upon good, just, and true evidence. But -before you pronounce him Count of Ehrenstein you must prove that -Ferdinand Charles is dead."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he removed the unsightly cap from his head, and with it a -large quantity of white hair, threw the bauble from his hand into the -midst of the aisle, cast back the cloak from his shoulders, and gazed -around him,--as lordly a man, in his presence and bearing, as any in -the whole court.</p> - -<p class="normal">As he did so, a cry, strange and horrible, came from the group on the -left; and Count William of Ehrenstein darted forward, with his hands -clasped tight together--gazed for an instant, with wild eagerness, in -the face of him who had so boldly seated himself in the Emperor's -chair--and then falling on his knees, exclaimed, "Ferdinand! -Ferdinand!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The multitude in the chapel seemed at once to conceive the whole; and -a loud shout--the mixture of surprise and satisfaction--burst from -them, and made the vaulted roof ring. At the same moment, too, good -Franz Creussen strode up to the table, and taking the Count's hand in -his, wrung it hard, exclaiming, "Welcome to your own again, my good -and noble lord!"</p> - -<p class="normal">But how shall I depict all the varied expressions on the -countenances of those who surrounded the table at that moment:--the -joy, the surprise, the bewilderment in the face of Ferdinand of -Ehrenstein;--the agony and despair in that of his uncle, as he still -knelt, with the eye of his brother fixed even fiercely upon him; the -look of terror and dismay of old Karl von Mosbach; and the calm and -triumphant glance of satisfaction in the eyes of the two old knights -who had accompanied Ferdinand thither, and of several other hardy -warriors around.</p> - -<p class="normal">Nor was there less pleasure in the aspect of Count Frederick of -Leiningen, who, after having paused for a moment to let the first -feelings have way, advanced, and laid his hand upon the shoulder of -him who had so lately appeared as his jester, and said aloud, "This is -Ferdinand Charles, Count of Ehrenstein, delivered by my assistance -from the bonds of the infidel. No man, who knows him and looks upon -him, will deny it; but, should there be any one bold enough so to do, -I will prove the fact, either by my body against his in battle, or by -the course of true evidence; showing that this noble Count has, ever -since his captivity, been in constant communication with the Grand -Master of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem; who, at his intercession -and upon his bond, has ransomed, from time to time, every one of his -companions made captive at the same time with himself; and would have -ransomed him also, long ago, had not the sum demanded been utterly -unreasonable. William of Ehrenstein, do you deny that this is your -brother?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not," answered the unhappy man, bending his head down to the -table, and covering his eyes with his hands. "It is--it is my brother. -Fool that I was not to know him sooner!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fool that you were, indeed," replied his brother; "for fool must be -every man who takes not warnings repeatedly given. You have had every -means; you have had every chance. When I could have struck you in the -halls that you had taken from my son,--when I could have punished you -at the board, where you had no right to sit but as a guest,--when I -could have made you bow the head amongst the soldiery, where you had -no place but as a vassal--I forebore; although I knew you to be -perfidious, blood-stained, cruel! But yet I hoped that there might -be some grace left,--that some redeeming quality--some tardy -repentance of error--might give room for clemency,--might excuse, to -my own heart, the traitor against my own life, the plotter against my -child, the persecutor of my wife, the assassin of a faithful though -humble friend. Yet here, even here, to the very last, no touch of -remorse has shaken you,--no shame has found place in your bosom. When -proofs, as clear as day, have established rights of another and your -own guilt, you have resisted, with base and dishonourable subterfuges, -the restitution of that to which you had no claim; and have striven to -murder, with words, him whom your steel was impotent to reach. The day -of mercy and tenderness is past; I have swept from my bosom every -feeling of brotherly love--every memory of youthful hours--all the -linked tenderness of young affections,--all the sweet bonds of the -early heart. I deal with you as traitor, knave, assassin;--false to -your brother and your lord; and henceforth, from me, hope neither -grace, nor favour, nor compassion. Not as you have done to others will -I do to you; but, with the stern and rigid arm of impartial justice, I -will strike at proved crimes and wickedness unrepented.--My lord the -Emperor," he continued, rising, "I have usurped this seat too long, -and crave your gracious pardon; but at your hands I demand this man, -my vassal and my liegeman, whom I formerly called brother, to deal -with him, in my court, according as justice shall determine; and -justice he shall have, even to the uttermost jot, according to the -laws and customs of the nobles of this realm."</p> - -<p class="normal">While he spoke, the culprit had remained with his head bent down, and -his face hidden; but the moment that the stern words left the Count's -lips, his brother made a convulsive motion forward, and grasped his -knees, exclaiming, "Ferdinand! Ferdinand!--Have mercy, have pity!"</p> - -<p class="normal">But the Count spurned him from him, asking, in a deep fierce tone, -"Have you had pity?" And as the unfortunate man fell back upon the -pavement, there was a shrill cry--not exactly a shriek, but the sound -of grief rather than of terror; and suddenly from between the pillars -which separated the south aisle from the nave, a beautiful form darted -forward, passed the knights before the table, passed the prostrate -suppliant and his brother, passed Father George and the Emperor, and, -advancing straight to Ferdinand of Ehrenstein, caught his hand, and, -casting herself upon her knees at his feet, raised that beautiful face -toward him, exclaiming, "Ferdinand! Ferdinand! my husband, my beloved! -Now, remember the promise that you made me, the oath you swore. Save -my father: intercede for him--now, even now, when the warm gush of -parental love must be flowing from the heart of him who has our fate -in his hands, when the long yearnings of the soul to see his child -must make his spirit tender. Save my father--save him, my husband; by -your oath, by our hopes, by our mutual love. Kneel to him--I will -kneel too."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ferdinand replied not but by a mute caress; but then advancing, he -bent his knee before the Count, saying, "My father!" Adelaide followed -timidly, and knelt beside him. But the Count seemed not to notice her; -and, casting his arms round the youth's neck, he bent his head over -him, while tears bedewed his cheeks, murmuring with faltering accents, -"My son! My brave, my noble son!"</p> - -<p class="normal">At the same time he strove to raise him; but Ferdinand remained upon -his knee, and lifting his eyes to the Count's face, he answered, "Oh, -my father, my dear father! Welcome, welcome from bonds, from -captivity, from the grave, to receive your own, and to make all your -own happy. A boon, a boon, my father--in this hour of unexpected, of -unparalleled joy, grant your child one boon. Cloud not this hour of -happiness by the darkest blot that can stain existence. Spare your -brother. He may have wronged you, he may have wronged me, but he is -still your brother. Let it not be said that there was one man in all -your lordships who had real cause to mourn, that the Count of -Ehrenstein came to claim his own again. Let it be all bright, let it -be an hour of sunshine and of joy to every one, that brought you back -to us, when we all thought you lost for ever."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide also clasped her hands, and, gazing in his face, strove -eagerly to speak, but terror had too strong possession of her, and all -that she could utter was, "He is my father--have mercy, have mercy!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is your father, Lady," answered the Count, sternly; "he is my -brother. His wrongs to me I could forgive--I do forgive them. His -wrongs to those who were dearer to me than life, I forgive them too. -But he has wronged others, ay, and with a darker and more devilish art -than man might fancy hell itself could produce--blackened the name of -the honest and the true, of the most faithful of servants and friends, -that he might stifle in the blood of the messenger the crimes -committed against him who sent him. Entreat not, Ferdinand, for it is -in vain. In this I am immoveable. The hour of mercy, as I have said, -is past. Endurance has been prolonged to the utmost; and not even the -voice of a son, dear and beloved though he may be, can shake me in my -purpose. It is all, all in vain. Rise, youth: if I must speak plain, I -deny your boon--I refuse your prayer; and this man dies, as I hope--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hold!" said Father George, "there is still another voice to be -heard."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not yours, good Father," said the Count. "I love, I esteem you. I -know that for this object you have laboured to unite him who is -dearest to me on this earth, to the daughter of him who has become my -bitterest foe; and I have seen and suffered it, for her virtues atone -for the crime of being his daughter. But I have suffered it with the -full resolve of guarding myself sternly against your pious policy, and -not permitting my firm heart to be moved, even by filial love or -parental tenderness, to pardon him who has hardened his heart till -pity were folly, and mercy were injustice. Speak not for him; for I -will not hear. Your voice is powerless as theirs."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There may be another stronger," said the monk; and at the same moment -a lady, closely veiled, advanced from behind him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know not that!" she said (and she, too, knelt at the Count's feet), -"my voice was once strong with you, my noble lord. I am sure that it -will be powerful still, unless you are changed indeed--changed in -heart, as I am in form, unless your spirit has lost that beauty of -essence which I have lost of person. Yet my voice, now as ever, shall -be raised only in entreaty, beseeching you to remember hours of -tenderness and love long past, and to grant life and pardon to this -man, your brother, for the sake of one who has mourned and wept full -twenty years for you."</p> - -<p class="normal">A strange change had come over the Count of Ehrenstein. It could -hardly be said he listened. He heard it, it is true; but his spirit -seemed pre-occupied by other thoughts. His face turned deadly pale; he -trembled in every limb; he gasped, as if for breath; and all he could -utter was, "That voice--that voice!" As she ended, he stretched forth -his hands eagerly towards the veil, but ere he could touch it, she -threw it back herself, and after one momentary gaze, he cast his arms -around her, exclaiming, "My wife, my beloved!" and pressed her to his -bosom, with a convulsive clasp.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a deep silence through the chapel for some moments, and -then, as she still remained resting on her husband's bosom, the voice -of the Countess of Ehrenstein murmured a few words in his ear.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Take him," cried the Count, suddenly, casting wide his right arm, and -pointing to his brother, while his left still pressed his wife to his -heart: "do with him what you will,--I give him to you, and renounce -all power over him and his fate."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide caught the lady's hand, and kissed it; and gently releasing -herself from her husband's embrace, the Countess of Ehrenstein -approached his brother, and said, in a low tone, "You are free, my -lord; you had better, perhaps, retire, and for a time betake you to -some place of seclusion till my lord and husband has forgotten some of -the past events, or has time to think more gently of them."</p> - -<p class="normal">The unhappy man bowed his head low, and with pale cheek, turned away. -The crowd drew back to let him pass; but ere he could take two steps -from the spot where this scene had passed, Adelaide sprang forward and -knelt before him. He had not noticed--he had not seemed to see her -before; but now she raised her beautiful face towards him, with the -rich brown hair falling back, and the torch-light streaming on her -brow; and, in a tone of musical melancholy, she said, "Forgive me, my -father! Oh! forgive me, and let me go with you to comfort you. What I -have done, was done only in the hope of saving you, not from undutiful -disobedience. I learned that these events were coming, only under the -most solemn vow of secrecy, and even then but vaguely. I was told -enough, however, to know, or at least to believe, that the only means -of rescuing my father from destruction, was by giving my hand to one -whose voice might be most powerful with my uncle. I trust I hope that -the love, which I own I felt, had no weight in my resolve; but, at all -events, you are saved, my father; and my first duty now is, to beseech -your forgiveness, and to try to soothe and to console you."</p> - -<p class="normal">For an instant, as she spoke, her father eyed her with a stern and -angry glance. Old passions revived; he forgot how he had fallen: -pride, and the lingerings of a vengeful spirit, made themselves felt -again; but as he raised his eyes, all that he saw around brought back -the bitter and humiliating present. He felt that he was crushed down -to the very earth,--nay, more, he felt that his own crimes crushed -him. His heart was humbled--the first step to true repentance--and -that better feeling threw open the gates of the breast to others: -parental love returned; ay, and even a sense of gratitude for that -which his child had done. He saw, he understood the motives on which -she had acted; and listening, softened, to the last words she spoke, -he put his arms around her, and leaning down his head, for the first -time, he wept.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will go with you,--I will go with you," murmured Adelaide.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, my child, it must not be," replied her father. "I do believe you -have acted for the best; but now you are bound in duty to another. -Stay with your husband. I have done him wrong; but he loves you -deeply, I am sure; and you shall teach him, by your gentle tenderness, -to forget your father's faults.--Adieu, my child! May God bless and -protect you!"</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, the Count of Ehrenstein strode forward, and took him by -both the hands. "William," he said, "William, do you repent of what -you have done?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"From my heart and soul, Ferdinand," replied his brother. "Nay, more, -I have ever repented bitterly. I have found that one crime, besides -its own remorse, brings a thousand others to be repented of. The -things I have done have haunted me by day and night: they have -embittered life; and I have learned, too late, that though crime may -purchase a moment's joy, it is sure to be followed by an existence of -misery. But you know not--oh! you know not, you who have lived in one -course of integrity and honour, how entanglements and temptations -crowd upon one, how they interweave a net, from which the heart, were -it as strong as a lion, could not break forth, when once we have -plunged into a course of wrong,--how the evil wish begets the evil -act,--how the evil act calls to the lie to conceal it,--how the lie, -in its shame, has recourse to a new crime to cover it. None can know, -none can tell, what are the difficulties, the agonies--what are the -struggles, the writhings, of those who go on in doing what is wrong, -with some sense of right remaining. Oh! the longing for deliverance; -the eager thirst to obliterate the past; the tender thoughts of youth -and infancy, and innocence and peace; the fearful looking forward to -the future day, when Satan will claim his tribute of fresh wickedness -to purchase a brief immunity from the penalty of the soul's dark bond; -the effort for firmness, even in the course we have taken; the feeling -that there is no real strength but in virtue, no fortitude but in -honesty! It is inexpressible, it cannot be described or told: but I -call God to witness that I speak the truth, when I say, that I even I, -for the last twenty years--though I seemed to have gained all that -ambition could desire--though wealth, power, luxury, enjoyment, were -all at my command--have suffered tortures that hell itself can hardly -equal, and which might well expiate a life of sin. I know now, I know -bitterly, what is the meaning of 'the worm that never dies, and the -fire that can never be quenched.' And what has this strife made -me?--how changed a thing from what I was before! If I look back but -for a few short years, I can see myself a different being. Do you -remember, Ferdinand, when we were boys together at Würzburg, and this -good lord here of Leiningen was our gay companion, how cheerfully the -days passed, how light the hours seemed? Time had no weight: existence -was a blessing. The free, sunshiny air came with its wings loaded with -enjoyment; the breath of the spring flowers was like the balm of Eden, -the singing of the birds an angels' choir. I enjoyed all, in those -days; I loved you all well. My heart was open as the Heaven to every -human creature. The whole universe had nothing but delight, except -when sometimes I thought, with a regretful sullenness, that you were -destined to the busy scenes in which I longed to mingle, and I to a -cloister's gloom, and the separation of a hard vow from all my fellow -men. But that was nothing: a light cloud upon a summer's sky, in a -moment borne away, and all was sunshine again, and cheerfulness.--Do -you remember, Ferdinand? It seems to me but yesterday."</p> - -<p class="normal">His face lighted up, as if the sunshine of early days shone forth on -his countenance; and as he spoke, he laid his hand forgetfully upon -his brother's arm, and gazed upon him with a look of tender memory. -The Count, too, gave way to the soft influences of those early days: -they came back upon him, as his brother spoke. One harsh feeling after -another faded away, like darkness giving place to light: he leaned his -arm upon Count William's shoulder; and, bending down his head, while a -tear trickled from his eye, he said, "I do remember, William; I do -remember all right well."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And what am I now?" asked his brother, suddenly withdrawing from him, -as if he felt that he was not worthy of that kind familiar touch; "a -wretch, an outcast, hated by all, abhorrent to myself. But that is -nothing--all nothing to the past. I am happier now than heretofore; -for the effect of that dark struggle in my heart was strange and -terrible; from kind, I had become fierce and cruel; from gentle and -patient, angry and proud. Powerless to enjoy, I hated the sight of -enjoyment; and with a chain of adamant about my heart, the sight of a -free spirit in another was bitterness to me. Only, indeed, in the case -of this youth and this dear girl did I ever witness the pure and -simple pleasures of happy innocence, without hating what I witnessed -for the reproof it bore me. But it was not so with them.--He knows it -was not.--In his wild energies and soaring fancy, in his free spirit -and his bold heart, he would often call back the brother of my youth, -vaguely but sweetly, and in the regrets I felt there might mingle -melancholy, but no pain. It was too indistinct to wound. It was as a -sight or a sound that we have known in childhood, coming back upon the -ear of age, and cheating it with a misty dream of early joy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, it was sweet to mark him; and, though sometimes--provoked to -sudden frenzy, as if a demon whispered, he had wrongs to avenge upon -me--I would be fierce and wayward with him, like a tyrant as I was, -yet Heaven can testify that I loved him better than any being on -earth, except this my child."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count suddenly took him by the hand, and, pointing to Father -George, he said, "There is hope yet, William--good hope, I am sure; -the seed may lie long in the foul earth, but will germinate and bud, -and grow and blossom, and bear fruit at last. Speak with this holy -man: he will comfort you, he will lead you to a better forgiveness -than a brother's, which is already given. A time in solitude, in -thought, and prayer, will calm down remorse into repentance, and hope -and peace may yet visit your latter days. I have been entangled for -twenty years in earthly bonds: you in fetters that have chained the -spirit. I have returned, against all likelihood, to claim that which -was once mine; you will return, too, to take a former and a better -nature upon you. If she so wills it, this dear girl shall go with you -to comfort you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," exclaimed his brother,--"no. That selfishness shall be the first -I will cast off. She shall remain where present duty calls her, with -those who love and will cherish her. God's blessing upon you, my -child! may you be happy as you deserve! and, that no thought for me -may break in upon your peace, be assured that the only state in which -I can now find repose, is that of solitude and thought, where, removed -afar from the battlefield of the passions, I can rest after the combat -in which I have been vanquished; not without pain from my wounds, and -shame for my defeat, but still with the hope of recovery, and trust in -the future.--Adieu! adieu!" and, disengaging his hand from Adelaide, -as she bent her head over it bedewing it with tears, he turned towards -the door of the chapel, and walked silently away.</p> - -<p class="normal">Father George followed him, without a word, merely waving his hand, in -token of farewell to the party that remained; and a number of those -present crowded round the Count of Ehrenstein, eagerly grasping his -hand, and congratulating him upon the events of that night. Adelaide, -with her head bent and her eyes full of tears, stood, like a lily of -the valley in the shade, by her young husband's side; and Ferdinand, -with expanded chest, high head, and beaming eyes, gazed from his -mother to his father, who stood for a moment in the midst, with a calm -and tempered satisfaction on his countenance, thanking all, but with -his mind evidently abstracted from that which was immediately passing -around him. Who can say what were his sensations at that moment?--what -was the strange turmoil of feelings in his bosom? There are times when -the meeting of the past and the present is sensibly felt, from their -strange contrast. We have all seen two rivers unite and flow on in -peace, mingling their waters together so gradually that the line of -their junction can scarcely be told; but many have beheld two torrents -rushing down in fury, like contending armies, and, for a time, -struggling in a whirlpool, ere they blend and rush away. Like that -whirlpool, perhaps, were the emotions of his mind, when the long lapse -of the dark and stormy past first met the gay and sunshiny present. -But he was not without power over his own mind; and he conquered the -tumult in a few moments. One glance at his wife, as she still clung to -his arm; brief thanks to his friends; and then, turning to the -Emperor, with the lady's hand in his, he bent the knee, and said, "I -do you homage, my liege lord, not only with a true but with a grateful -heart; and among all the causes of regret with which my long captivity -has furnished me, there is none greater than that I have been -prevented thereby from drawing a sword, which was once good, in behalf -of your just rights. All is now in peace, thank God; but, should it be -wanted, there is still strength in this old frame to go with you to -the field; and, when it fails, here are young, hardy limbs,"--and he -pointed to Ferdinand,--"which will never be found unwilling to mount a -horse and couch a lance in your Majesty's behalf."</p> - -<p class="normal">"God grant that we never need them," replied the Emperor, raising him; -"but should a wise head and a strong arm, a good sword and a stout -heart, be needed in our cause, there is nowhere I will seek them more -confidently than with the Count of Ehrenstein and his son."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And now, knights and nobles," he continued, gaily, "we will bid you -all adieu, and back to Spires; for, by my faith! we have been out so -late at night, without pretext of war, or feud, or hunting party, that -our fair Empress might think we were fooling away the hours with some -rosy country maiden, had we not so strange a tale as this to tell her, -of events that have been well worth the seeing.--Good night to all."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he quitted the chapel, followed by his train. For some -minutes after, a buzz rose up from within, as of many voices speaking. -Then came forth men and torches. Horses and litters were sought for, -and away towards Hardenberg wound a long train, to which the gates -opened, and spears and men-at-arms, and nobles in gay raiment passed -over the drawbridge and through the dark archway. For an hour there -were sounds of revelry within. A health, with a loud shout, was given -in the great hall; and while many prolonged the banquet and drained -the cup to a late hour, two young and graceful figures, lighted by a -lamp, moved slowly along one of the wide corridors of the castle. The -gentleman held a lamp in his hand, and gazed down upon his fair -companion; the lady, with both hands circling his arm, bent her eyes -on the ground, and trod softly, as if in fear of her own foot-falls. -Bertha, the gay maid, stood at the end of the passage, and opened the -door for them to pass through. She closed it when they were gone; and -then, clasping her hands together, she bent them backwards, looked up -half sighing, half laughing, and said, "Well, they are happy at -last.--Lackaday."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>CHAPTER XLIV.</h3> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The public is a body very much like that which assembles round a -dinner table, and the wise host will cater for all. For some the -substantial joints, for some the <i>hors d'œuvres</i> are necessary, and -some will dwell long upon the dessert, which others will not deign to -taste. Those need not eat, who do not like it; and thus, with the -explanations at the end of a long tale, we may say to the reader, -close the page if you have heard enough. In the case of many, -imagination will supply all gaps, explain all obscurities, far better, -probably, than the writer can; at least, that skilful limner will use -brighter colours than any that the artist can employ; but with many -another man, on the contrary, fancy requires a leading hand; or -curiosity exacts a full account of what the author himself intended. -For such, I must give at least one more scene, and that shall be in -the same place whence we first set out,--the castle of Ehrenstein.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was in the great old hall there--that hall so long deserted, or -only tenanted for an hour or two, to be again abandoned. Its aspect, -however, was now changed; the mould and damp had disappeared from the -walls and columns; rich stained glass in the windows, receiving the -full light of the summer sun, poured a flood of glorious colours -across the pavement; wreaths of flowers wound around the massive -pillars; green boughs and glittering armour hung upon the wall; and, -though the serving men, from time to time, looked round with habitual -dread at any sudden sound, yet the chief party, which remained in the -hall after the mid-day meal, was full of gay life and cheerful -happiness.</p> - -<p class="normal">That party was small in number compared with those we have before seen -in the same mansion; for the retainers of the house, though lately -increased in number, had withdrawn, and left the lord of the castle -and his family alone. Old Seckendorf, indeed, still occupied a seat -amongst the rest, but the fact was, that the stout aged knight, after -a morning spent in hard and vigorous exercise, had eaten and drunk to -repletion, and was now nodding away the hour of digestion with his -head leaning on his hand. At the head of the table, sat the old Count -of Ehrenstein himself, with ineffaceable traces of cares and labours -still visible on his cheek and brow, his hair white as snow, and his -beard and eyebrows somewhat grey, but with a clear light in his keen -eye, the rose upon his cheek, his frame firm and strong, and a hand -that could raise a cup rounded with wine untrembling to his lips. -Through all and above all sparkled that living grace which never dies; -which age cannot wither, nor time touch; which death itself--as those -who have marked the clay of men kindly and cheerful in their nature, -must know well--which death itself, I say, gives over to corruption -undiminished--the grace which an elevated, generous, and noble spirit -spreads through the whole frame that contains it.</p> - -<p class="normal">By his side sat his long-lost but well-beloved wife, who now, in the -garments of her rank and station, freed from grief, anxiety, and -apprehension, had recovered from the grasp of time a great portion of -that beauty for which she had once been famous. Her eyes were turned -upon the face which she had so constantly loved, her hand rested near -his, as if ready to touch it, and assure herself that he was there -indeed; and the half opened lips, when he spoke, showed how she drank -in his words, and how musical to her ear was the voice which she had -once deemed stilled in death.</p> - -<p class="normal">Near them were another pair, in the first fruition of life's brightest -hopes, Ferdinand and Adelaide. His face was all brightness; his joy -was at its full; care and sorrow had no hold upon his heart; from his -own bosom spread forth a light that brightened all things; and the -world, and every object it contained, seemed instinct with joy, and -lustrous with happiness. Man's nature is not more susceptible of -pleasurable emotions than woman's, and, indeed, perhaps the finer -delights, the more delicate enjoyments which she feels, are to him -unknown; yet, as an equivalent, those very fine movements of the -spirit, which are the source of so much delight, are often the cause -of shadowy afflictions. Man can enjoy to the full, woman seldom, -without some vague sensation of a different character,--it may -be melancholy, it may be regret, it may be fear--mingling even -with the cup of joy, perhaps to diminish, perhaps to heighten the -flavour,--which I know not.</p> - -<p class="normal">The lady's face full of satisfaction, her beautiful eyes beamed -with joy; but yet--oh, that there should ever be but yet--those eyes -would sometimes turn thoughtfully towards the ground, and a shade -would come over that angelic face; it could not be called a cloud, it -was so light, so evanescent. Perhaps the reader may divine, without -explanation, the cause of that vague shadow, or, at all events, a word -will give him a clue. Her father was not there; and memories of his -fate and his loneliness would interweave themselves with the warp of -thought, and chequer with darker figures the bright web of her own -happiness.</p> - -<p class="normal">One more figure completed the group,--it was that of good Father -George, now prior of his order; the abbacy he had declined; although, -since the events we have lately narrated, the worthy but weak Lord -Abbot had died--it was whispered from a surfeit, of a very nice but -dangerous animal, called in the language of the country "<i>Nine-eyes</i>," -which has slain almost as many great men as the sword. The good monk -hardly looked as fresh and well as when first we beheld him, for he -had lately passed through some scenes of great excitement; and it is a -curious fact, that men of advanced life, who generally are less -susceptible of strong emotions, suffer more severely than others when -they do feel them. Nevertheless, during the meal he had been more gay -than usual, and now he was prolonging the conversation aloud with the -Count, while, from time to time, Ferdinand and Adelaide spoke together -in low tones, of things which referred only to themselves.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! my good lord," said the Prior, "if the verse-maker Ovid had lived -in these days, he might have added more than one book to his -Metamorphoses, and, in this very place, might have found matter for -many a long and ponderous verse. We have all, indeed, undergone -transformation--you from a jester to a count; I from a poor monk to a -rich prior; and you, my good youth, from a stripling to a married man. -Nor amongst the least is the change of this old hall. Why, not two -months ago, that is when last I saw it, it was all dark and mouldy, -the stone-work peeling away, the rafters rotting and inclined to fall, -with nought in it but the old banners and the great chair of state. -Men were afraid to tread it for fear of spectres, and the whistling -wind, the bats, and the dust, were its only tenants. Now it looks as -gay and as sunshiny as a bridal banquet-chamber, with its gay garlands -and festive flowers, and all fears seem laid aside in its new -freshness.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, not quite all fears," answered the Count; "and I believe they -never will be; for there is nothing so enduring as traditional terror. -From time to time, some of the men will look around over the left -shoulder, whenever the name of ghost or apparition is mentioned; and -often have I seen a merry tale interrupted in the midst, by one man -being seized with fears and infecting all the rest. But I do not much -mind that. At present, their terror does not go to an inconvenient -length; and with the passing days it will wear down to a calm and -wholesome superstition, which may have its advantages. Doubtless, too, -those who know all the secrets of the place, will whisper, amongst the -rest, the causes of all they have seen, and if they do, the marvellous -will suffer greatly, though doubtless, in winnowing truth from -falsehood, some part of the chaff still stays with the corn."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What were the causes, my dear lord?" asked Adelaide, fixing her eyes -upon him; "I am well nigh as ignorant as the others; and though, as -Ferdinand can tell you, I am not much given to fear--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"When love is in the case, dear child," said the Count, interrupting -her, with a smile. "But come, as a reward for that dear love, I will -tell you all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It has been well rewarded already," she said, looking at her husband; -"but yet I would fain know, and we will take the history as a pure -grace. I guess at some things, and I know others, but still there is -much that is dark and misty; and I have often heard, my dear lord and -uncle, that woman's curiosity will not rest satisfied till all has -been discovered. I see amongst us here in the hall at meal-time, many -a scarred and weather-beaten face that I know not; but all their eyes -seem to turn to you as if you were a saint, so that they must have -known you long; and I hear them talk of distant lands and strange -adventures, and therefore I deem they must have been your companions -in the Holy Land."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My good friends and fellow-soldiers of the Cross, my dear child," -replied the old Count. "With a noble train of such as these, now more -than twenty years ago, I left my home to fight, in company with other -lords of this and distant lands, for the deliverance of Christ's -sepulchre. We were bound by a vow to give our banners to the wind upon -the shores of Syria or Africa before a certain day; but in the fair -city of Venice, the starlight daughter of the blue Adriatic, of which -the heathen Venus was but an imperfect type, I met with one who made -me long to break my oath--" and he laid his hand upon his wife's. -"When she became a soldier's bride, however, she felt for a soldier's -renown, and sadly, yet unmurmuringly, parted from me, that I might -fulfil the promise I had made. I went, dear child, leaving some -faithful friends and followers to guard her hither, after our first -child's birth; and then comes a time, on the events of which I will -not dwell. You have already heard too much, perchance. Suffice it that -I was wronged, and that the wrong has been forgiven. When I was -captured by the Saracens, some of my brave companions fell, some were -taken with me, some escaped to a castle of the Knights Hospitallers on -the African shore. There I had left a certain sum of treasure; but my -sword had plagued the infidels too sorely for them to let me go, -without enormous ransom. The Order of St. John and my comrades who had -escaped, trafficked eagerly with my captors to liberate me; but it was -in vain; and in those distant lands some years were consumed in these -fruitless endeavours. While they went on, I was permitted to see -several of my friends; and a plan struck me, for using their services -to gain the freedom of my companions in misfortune. At my desire, they -bound themselves to serve the Order of St. John in arms, a certain -number of years, upon condition that at the end of each man's time the -Order should redeem from slavery one of their comrades of equal rank, -they still retaining their homage to me. Thus, in the course of the -last four or five years, all of my train who survived had been set -free, the one part from the bondage of the infidel, the other from -their engagements to the Order; and as each man thus obtained -liberty, I sent him back hither with a sum of money, to watch over and -guard my child; for I knew that he still lived, although I had wept -for his mother as in the grave. To each I furnished a knowledge of the -secrets of this place,--for it has secrets, as you will soon -hear,--and bade them address themselves either to my reverend friend, -Father Francis, or to my old henchman, good Franz Creussen, for -farther information and directions. My own liberation seemed hopeless; -not a ray of light broke in upon the darkness of my fate; till some -good soul in England, where there are kind hearts and wealthy men, -left a large sum to the Knights of St. John, for the purpose of -ransoming the prisoners of the Cross. Still, the sum demanded for me -was very large: there were many who were suffering as severely as -myself: the Knights did not think it just to redeem any one man at -such a price; and I might have lingered still in Saracen bonds, had -not my noble friend, Frederick of Leiningen, come over to war in -behalf of the Order; and, when he heard of my state, gave up all the -recompense that was his due from the Hospitallers, to make up the -amount of my ransom, with what the Grand Master had already offered to -give. When the news first reached me that I was free, I cannot tell -you--for I am not a learned man, like my good brother--all the strange -thoughts and considerations that came into my mind. I fancied, if I -came back in my true character, supported by Count Frederick's power, -and the sixty or seventy good warriors I had sent back, I should have -to punish the guilty, as well as to reward the honest, and perhaps to -war for my inheritance against my own blood. I am not a harsh or cruel -man, my child, and the thought frightened me. I therefore bethought me -to take some disguise; but what to choose I knew not. If I came back -with shield and spear, as a follower of Count Frederick's, I felt sure -my brother would recognise me at once in a garb which I had so often -worn before his eyes. So I fell upon a jester's habit; for I had ever -been fond of a smart speech and a gay joke, and in my young days could -cope in his own coin with any fool of the imperial court. The dress -was sent me before I joined my friend, that his followers might not -know me in any other character; and I came hither in that garb, as you -know.--But now, to turn back to the fate of those I had sent over -before: three or four perished by the way, the rest arrived in safety. -The first, immediately on their return to their native land, visited -the cell of Father George, and from him received instructions how to -act.--I know not, my reverend friend," and he turned to the good monk, -"whether I read your intentions rightly; but it has always seemed to -me that your design was to collect the men together in one body, to be -ready for all emergencies; and that, foreseeing or hoping I should -myself in time return, you wished by superstitious impressions to -prepare my brother's mind for that event, and induce him to yield to -me, willingly and cheerfully, all that he had wrongly assumed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good faith! my dear son," replied Father George, "if the truth must -be told, I, at first, had no design, like many another man who is -supposed to act upon well-digested schemes of policy; when, if put -upon his truth and honour, he would acknowledge that circumstances -suggested deeds. I hid the men in the old vaults, when first they -arrived, because I knew not what else to do with them. Some of the -people of the place saw them, and took them for ghosts; so I said, 'In -Heaven's name, let them be ghosts!' It was a better mode of -concealment than any I could devise. Then, again, as their numbers -increased, it was necessary to provide them with food. My poor old -trembling hands could not carry up all that was necessary; and -therefore I applied to good Franz Creussen, who, I knew, would supply, -and not betray. With him the whole business of the apparitions was -matured; and from the key which you gave me long ago of the private -passages, other keys were made, to give the good men exit and entrance -when they pleased."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay," said the Count, "it is of those private passage I was about to -speak. You must know, my dear child, that when the old castle was -pulled down, some two hundred years ago, and a new one built in its -place, a famous architect was employed, who did not live to see his -whole designs completed, but was buried under one of the chambers, -where his tomb now stands. His son continued the work to a conclusion, -and the plans have never been made known to any but the lord of this -castle and his eldest son. Ere long, I will lead Ferdinand through the -whole of the building, and will show him the map thereof, which lies -in a niche of the architect's tomb. Suffice it to say, that the whole -of this vast structure, solid as it seems, and solid as it indeed is, -in reality, is double; there is as much beneath the surface of the -rock as above it. Every wall has its passage; between the ceiling of -one chamber and the floor of another, are rooms, and halls, and -staircases; and there is no part in the whole inhabited portion of the -castle of Ehrenstein, that I could not reach without showing myself to -one mortal eye of all those who are moving about in the clear and open -day. The great extent of the building, the masses of its towers and -walls, the cornices and mouldings, the buttresses and turrets, conceal -all the contrivances which were resorted to in its construction. No -eye gazing on it from without asks, 'with what chamber communicates -that loophole?' Or, 'why is there so great a space between one range -of windows and another?' All is in such good keeping, that all seems -natural and ordinary; and by means of these rooms and passages, you -and yours have been surrounded for the last five years, when you -thought yourselves most alone, by a body of men daily increasing, who, -at a word, would have seized the castle in their rightful lord's name. -Such were the circumstances when I myself arrived. I soon gathered, -from what I heard, that the old hall had been deserted, on account of -rumours of apparitions, and, having held frequent communication with -my friends here after my liberation, I easily divined the cause. More -information, however, was required, and that information I gained when -I undertook to watch in this hall with you, my son. From that moment -my course was determined, my path clear. I suffered events to take -their course, but added numerous warnings to my brother to soften his -heart, to awaken remorse, and to induce him to do right, without a -struggle, when the moment came. In your own secret marriage, my dear -children, I acquiesced, from feelings I cannot well define nor -describe. First, if ever there was one who won upon the heart at first -sight, it is this dear girl; and next, there was in my bosom a vague -unwillingness to strike the very blow I meditated, a lingering anxiety -for some excuse to pardon and forget. I gladly seized that which was -offered me; and however watchful and ready to step in and save my -child, should need be, yet I was not displeased to see him somewhat -tried by difficult circumstances, ere the day of his fortunes became -unclouded and serene. You may now range the events and their causes -easily for yourselves, for I have explained all that is needful to the -right understanding of the past."</p> - -<p class="normal">While the Count had been speaking, old Seckendorf had roused himself -from his slumber, and was listening attentively; but when a pause -ensued he exclaimed, "Ay, that accounts for many a good ghost, my -lord, but the one I saw was a real ghost, I will swear; for you had -not arrived at the castle then. Tell me that I would not know a -man-at-arms from a shadow! Pooh! pooh! I am too old a soldier for -that."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Doubtless, just such another ghost as the rest," replied the Count, -while Father George listened to the quiet smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not a whit of it," cried Seckendorf, "it made no more noise than a -cat, and walked through the door as if it had been air.--I'll call -Bertha--Bertha saw it too," and striding to the door of the hall, -the old man shouted for our pretty friend at the top of his -voice,--"Bertha, Bertha!" he exclaimed; "some of you knaves send the -girl hither. Devil take the girl! any one ought to hear my voice at -the top of the west turret."</p> - -<p class="normal">"She is busy, Sir, I fancy," answered one of the men without; "but I -will call her for you;" and at the same moment the voice of Father -George exclaimed, "Herr von Seckendorf, come hither again. What would -you say, if I were the ghost?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pooh! nonsense!" exclaimed Seckendorf bluntly, "I won't believe it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is nevertheless true," answered Father George; "I was crossing the -end of the hall in the dusk to visit my young friend, Count Ferdinand, -here, when I saw you and Bertha together: I heard her scream, but, -guessing what was the occasion, took no notice, and went upon my way. -You may remember that you found me in his room; and as to my silent -step, I should think you had heard often enough from Count William, -that 'the noiseless sandal of the church reaches higher places than -the clanking heel of the man-at-arms;' at least, so he was wont to -say. He may think differently now."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide had fallen into thought, as the good Father spoke, and the -shade had come over her fair brow. But Father George observed the -change, and, going over to her side, he said in a low voice, "Do not -grieve for him, my dear child. It was but yesterday your father owned -to me, that he had never known peace or happiness till now. He has -chosen his fate; Heaven has granted him a period between the turmoil, -the strife, the passions, the sins of the world, and that state where -all is irretrievable, and all to be accounted for. Doubt not that he -will use it to the best advantage; and if so, happy is it for him that -those things which withheld him from better thoughts and higher -purposes have been taken away. But should power, and reverence, and -honour still have any hold upon his mind, or any value in his eyes, -they are within his reach. The abbacy is still vacant, and undoubtedly -at his disposal; I know not whether he will seek it or not, and by not -one word will I endeavour to influence him. If he feels like me, he -will avoid that which has been a snare to most men, and a fall to -many; but, at all events, we will pray that God may grant him grace in -any state to fulfil the duties of his station wisely--but here comes -Bertha."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There, there," cried Seckendorf; "say nought of the ghost; that's -done. We'll have no more of them. But who, in fortune's name! has she -got with her?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The Emperor's page," cried Adelaide; some degree of alarm mingling -with her surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">Bertha, however, advanced up the hall with a timid and downcast look, -and glowing cheek, not at all with her usual gay and light-hearted air -and countenance; her steps were slow and hesitating; her bright eye -veiling itself under the sweeping lashes, and her hands, with the -invariable sign of bashful hesitation, playing with the tassels of her -bodice. Behind her came the page, with his plumed bonnet in his hand, -and more of sheepishness in his air, too, than was usual with himself -or any page of the day. But the matter was soon explained, though in -somewhat broken sentences.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Please you, my lord," said Bertha, presenting herself before the -Count; "here's one of the Emperor's pages--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was, pretty Bertha," interrupted the young man; "but I am now out -of my pagehood."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And he has come to ask a question," said Bertha.</p> - -<p class="normal">"To which I have got an answer," said the page, twirling round his -bonnet gaily, but casting down his eyes at the same time.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not yet, master Karl," rejoined Bertha, quickly; "I told you it must -depend upon the will of my lord and lady."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, but they won't refuse if you wish it," cried the youth.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who told you I wished it?" exclaimed Bertha. "I only said that sooner -than break your heart--and you know you swore more than twenty times -that it would if I refused--I would marry you, just to save you from -drowning, or a halter, or some other bad kind of death; but that is -not to say that I wish it. On the contrary, I will do what my lord and -lady think fit. I am quite passive, and do nothing but out of pure -benevolence;" and she clasped her pretty hands before her, and rolled -one thumb round the other with the most indifferent air in the world.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Has inclination no share in it, my fair one?" said the Count, with a -smile; "if so, I think I shall withhold my consent; for such -indifferent marriages are never happy ones."</p> - -<p class="normal">Bertha's cheek began to grow warm, and she answered, in a hesitating -tone, "I can't say I dislike him, my lord--I like him as well as any -other man."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must have something more than that, pretty Bertha," replied her -lord, with a slight degree of malice. "I am too grateful for all you -have done to serve those I love, to let you wed a man to whom your -whole heart is not given. You must like him better than any other man, -or never marry him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, perhaps I do like him a little better than most," answered -Bertha, with a sigh at her confession.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well enough to make a very good wife, my lord the Count," interposed -the page.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Never believe that any woman will make a good wife who does not love -her husband, young gentleman," rejoined the Lord of Ehrenstein. "Do -you love him with all your heart, Bertha?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," whimpered the girl.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Better than any?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Better than all? Would you give your life for him? Will you give it -up to him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, yes, yes," she replied, and burst into a fit of tears.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, you shall have a dower and a blessing," replied the -Count; "and I doubt not you will, as he says, make him a very good -wife; for the sauciest maidens sometimes turn out the humblest -spouses. But what says the Emperor, my good youth?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, he says that I may do as I like," replied the young man; "and, -good faith! he could not well say less, for I believe he would have -married her himself if, by good luck, he had not had another wife."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, that was a stroke of fortune on your behalf," answered the -Count, laughing; "in the lands I have just left, he would have married -her notwithstanding. But, by my faith! I think one such will prove -enough for any man."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Enough for me, my lord," said the page, with some grace; "I seek no -more, and with her shall find happiness enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">Bertha held out her hand to him with a warm smile, exclaiming, "Well, -I do love you dearly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Right, right," cried the Count; "this is all right. We will take care -of your household, Bertha. Let your own heart make the sunshine, and -we will see that it shall have few worldly clouds; and now, if long -courtships be good, speedy weddings are better; so go your ways and -settle the day between you, leaving all the rest to us."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ere ten days more had passed, there was a marriage train wound down -from the castle towards the little chapel in the wood; for Bertha, -with a gay smile in her young mistress's face, had prayed that her -wedding might be there celebrated, instead of the loftier building at -the castle. The way was strewed with flowers by young girls from the -village, and garlands hung amongst the branches of the old oaks and -beeches. Light hearts and pretty faces gathered round; and nought was -wanting to the happiness of Bertha but the presence of her young lord -and the old Count, who had promised to give her to her husband. Both, -however, had ridden away from the castle at an early hour, and good -Franz Creussen had appeared in the bridal train as a substitute for -the Count of Ehrenstein, to perform the part of parent to the fair -bride. The Countess and Adelaide accompanied her, and when by the way -she ventured to express her regret that her good lord was not to be -present, Adelaide replied, with a smile, perhaps produced by a -comparison between her feelings at the moment and those with which she -had trod the same path herself as a bride, "Doubtless he will come, -Bertha; for he went away this morning early, without telling any one -his errand. I know he intended to be here."</p> - -<p class="normal">I have, far away in the beginning of this true history, described a -spot where the little chapel, and the door with its fretted -stone-work, first appeared on the road descending from the castle, and -when Bertha's bridal train reached that point, a group was seen in the -green glade before the portal, somewhat more splendid than might have -been expected to attend the bride-groom on his meeting with his -betrothed. There were dresses of silk and velvet, of gold and -embroidery, a banner or two waving above the horsemen, and a small -group of men-at-arms behind, with lances raised, and limbs hanging -drowsily, as if forming part of a scene in which they took no great -interest. In front were four or five gentlemen on foot, and the first -who came forward at a quick pace was the gay page. Behind, however, -were seen the Count of Ehrenstein and his son, and near them, a step -in advance, with head slightly bended, and all that air of dignity, if -not of pride, which is so frequently generated by the habit of -unlimited command, appeared the Emperor himself. He was speaking -eagerly to the Count of Ehrenstein, as if they had just met, but when -the two groups united, he took a kiss of Bertha's warm cheek, saying, -"I have come unasked to your wedding, fair maid, out of love for yon -youth and for you; make him a good wife as you have been a faithful -friend, and if he makes you a good husband he shall never want -advancement. Now let us forward to the ceremony: I will stand for his -father who is far away in Vienna, and you will have a noble godfather, -who will doubtless portion you as you deserve."</p> - -<p class="normal">Bertha replied not, but by low obeisance; but, in the mean while, the -Count of Ehrenstein had placed himself between his wife and his -step-daughter, and, addressing himself to the latter, he said, "Let -this be a joyful day for us all, my dear Adelaide! I have just -returned from your father. Thinking that in such a case as this, we -might well bury all bitter memories and unkind feelings of the past, I -went over to the Abbey to see if he would quit his solitude, and join -our little festival. Though he declined to quit his cell till his vows -be taken and his fate sealed, yet it will give peace and comfort to -your heart to know that our hands have clasped in peace, and that we -have mutually agreed to remember nought but that we are brothers. All -is forgiven. By me all shall be forgotten; if he remembers aught, it -is the secret of his own heart, and between him and his God. He is -seeking happiness in the only course where he can find it; and he bade -me tell you that your joy and peace was the only earthly blessing that -Heaven could bestow. No more shadows on that fair brow, then, my dear -child; for though I have marked them with love, I have marked them -with regret; and be assured that he who is most justly dear to you, -except your husband, knows best the way to his own peace."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adelaide replied not in words, but she took the old Count's hand, and -kissed it tenderly, and then accompanied her husband and father-in-law -to the chapel, where Bertha's marriage vows were speedily plighted.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And now, my good lord Count," said the Emperor, "I have come to spend -a day within your castle halls, bringing with me but a small escort; -for I know that the good nobles of this land are somewhat fearful of -encroachments upon their rights."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Had you come with a whole host, my liege lord," replied the Count, -"you should have been welcome; my heart is as free of fear as it is of -guile. I have served your house ere now in war and in counsel, and you -will see nought within my walls to make you doubt that I am ever ready -to do so still. Were you a bad or an unjust monarch, which I know you -not to be, you might, perchance, seek to infringe the rights, or -disturb the peace of your vassals; but I do not think the first with -whom you would begin would be the Count of Ehrenstein."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Assuredly not," replied the Emperor; "and to say the truth, the -object of my coming, noble friend, is to seek counsel and assistance -from your experience in framing some system by which the rights and -the happiness of all classes of people in this empire may be better -secured. The private wars of the lands, the constant feuds that take -place between cities and nobles, and between nobles themselves, as -well as the condition of the peasantry, form a great evil, which -requires some remedy. Count Frederick of Leiningen will join us this -night, and we will consult together--not bringing preconceived -opinions or unreasonable prejudices to council, and then fancying we -deliberate, but considering well and calmly whether anything can be -done, and if so, what had best be done to ameliorate the condition of -the people, and the institutions of the realm."</p> - -<p class="normal">They met as was proposed; and in the consultation of that night was -drawn out the first sketch of that famous chamber of justice at -Spires, to which all causes of contention and dispute were referred. -Years passed, it is true, before the scheme was acted upon, but when -once it was in full operation, it soon put an end to that almost -anarchical state of which some scenes have been displayed in the -foregoing pages.</p> - -<p class="normal">Little more remains to be told. The latter years of the Count of -Ehrenstein passed in peace; and, bowed with age, though scarcely -sensible of decay, he fell quietly asleep at a more advanced age than -is usually attained by men who have undergone such hardships, and -endured such privations. Old Seckendorf, too, with the flame burning -dimly over the lamp, passed far beyond man's allotted term. His body -submitted to all the ordinary processes of age; withered away from -that of the stout old knight to that of the decrepit and querulous old -man, sank into the lean and slippered pantaloon, and thence, through -life's last act, into the grave. His tombstone marks his age as 93; -but the truth of the record may be doubtful, for no one could ever -ascertain the precise year in which he was born. Bertha made a very -good and joyous wife, retaining just sufficient of the playful malice -of her youth to keep the waters of existence from stagnating; and -Ferdinand and Adelaide of Ehrenstein went on to the end with the same -bond of love between them which had encircled them in childhood, and -been knit fast in youth. In the lavish spirit of strong affection, he -had, as we have seen, made many a promise of enduring tenderness; but -his honour was very dear to him, and, had he even felt inclined to -break one of those dear engagements, he would have still held that a -promise to a woman is even more binding than to a man. But Adelaide -never had to remind him of one vow. Happily, her own high qualities, -her deep devotion to himself, her gentleness, and the strong moving -spirit of love which ruled her every action, deprived duty of all -honour in the unwavering performance of each assurance he had given. -Their hearts and their happiness shed their sunshine around them, and -as the old retainers dropped away, others supplied their place, and -inherit their veneration for their lord and lady.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus passed the days of the earthly inhabitants of the castle of -Ehrenstein; its unearthly tenants disappeared with the return of the -old Count to reclaim his own. Gradually the tales of spirits and -apparitions became less frequent and more vague; but yet they have not -entirely faded away from tradition; and the peasant returning home -late at night, from market or fair, will pass the mouldering bridge -with some awe, and fancy that he sees shadowy shapes and giant forms, -when he looks up by moonlight to the crumbling walls and ruined towers -of Ehrenstein.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>FOOTNOTES</h3> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_01" href="#div4Ref_01">Footnote 1</a>: -I shall adopt the word Count instead of Graf, as the -English translation of the title; and shall also follow throughout the -same course with regard to other honorary designations, as more -convenient.</p> -<br> -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_02" href="#div4Ref_02">Footnote 2</a>: -A door, precisely similar to that described, is still to -be seen in the old castle of Baden-Baden.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>THE END.</h4> -<br> -<br> -<hr class="W50"> -<h5>PRINTED BY BERNH. 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