The Red Axe
Page 42
CHAPTER XLIII
THE TRIAL FOR WITCHCRAFT
The Bed of Justice was set by eight of the morning. For they were everearly astir in the city of Thorn, though, like most early risers, theydid little enough afterwards all day.
With a sadly beating heart, I accompanied Dessauer in the same guise ason the previous day. The crowd was even greater in and about the Hall ofJudgment. And when the Duke had taken his seat and his tools setthemselves down on either side, they brought in the Little Playmate.
She was dressed all in white, clean and spotless, in spite of prisonusage. She glanced just once about her, right and left, high and low, asif seeking for a face she could not see, and from thenceforth she lookeddown on the ground.
The argument as to torture had been concluded on the day before, and ithad been held inadmissible--not because of any kindly thought for theprisoner, but because, according to the laws of the Wolfmark, in theabsence of the Hereditary Executioner, there was no one legally capableof inflicting it.
Then came the evidence.
The first witness against the Little Playmate was old Hanne. She wasbrought in by a cowled monk of dark and sinister appearance--in fact, asmy heart leaped to observe, I saw that she was accompanied by FriarLaurence--he who had taught me my learning in the old days, and whoeven then had watched the Little Playmate with no friendly eyes.
As she passed the judges I saw the deadly fear mount to agony on the faceof old Hanne. The look in her eyes of physical pain suffered andoverpassed was the same which I had often seen in the wars after thesurgeon has done his horrid work. That same look I saw now on the face ofHanne. So I knew that somewhere in the dark recesses under the Hall ofJudgment the Extreme Question had been put to her, and to all appearanceanswered according to the liking of the persecutors, though they darednot torture so notable a public prisoner as Helene.
I saw a look of satisfied vindictiveness pass over the brutal features ofDuke Otho. He changed his position and whispered to his colleagues.
It was Master Gerard von Sturm who rose to put the questions to thewitness. And as he did so, I heard the steady sough of talk among thepeople rise mutteringly in a low growl of anger and contempt. The Duke'slictors struck right and left among the crowd, as men bent forward withfierce hate in their voices, lowing like oxen, as if to clear their lungsof a weight of contempt.
It was not thus in the old days, when there was no people's arbiterin all the Wolfmark so famous or so popular as Master Gerard of theWeiss Thor.
"What is the reason of that turmoil?" said I to my neighbor.
"This is the man who was her first accuser. Why, he dares not go outsidehis house without a guard of the Duke's riders," said the man, picking athis finger-nail with his teeth, as if it were a bone and he did not thinkmuch of its savoriness.
"You have already confessed," said the advocate to old Hanne, when theyhad propped up the poor wreck of skin and bone, "and you do now confessthat this maid and yourself have ofttimes had converse with the Enemyof Souls?"
A spasm passed across the face of the witness, and a low sound proceededfrom her mouth, which might have been an affirmative answer, but whichsounded to me much more like a moan of pain.
"And you confess that she consulted you concerning the best means ofkilling the Duke Casimir--by means of a draught to be administered to himwhen he should, as was his custom, visit his Hereditary Justicer?"
"There was indeed a draught spoken of between us, noble sir," stammeredthe old woman, "but it was not for the Duke Casimir, nor yet for--for anyevil purpose."
I saw the Friar Laurence incline his head a little forward and whisper inHanne's ear from his place behind her.
At the words she clasped her hands and fell on the floor, grovelling: "Iwill say aught that you bid me, kind sir. I cannot bear it again. Icannot go back to that place. I am too old to be tormented. I will bearwhat testimony your excellencies desire."
"We wish only that you should tell the truth as you have already done ofyour own free will in your pre-examination," said Master Gerard, "thenotes of which are before me. Was it not to kill the Duke Casimir thatthis draught was compounded?"
The old woman hesitated. Friar Laurence stooped again.
"Yes!" she cried; "God forgive me--yes!"
An evil look of triumph sat on the face of Otho von Reuss. I think hefelt sure of his victim now.
"That is enough," said Master Gerard. "Take the old woman back toher cell."
"Oh no, great Lord!" she cried, "not there! You promised that if I saidit I was to be let go free. Kill me, but do not send me back!"
The Duke moved his hand, and the old woman was led shrieking below.
Then came Friar Laurence, who testified that he had often seen old Hanneinstructing the young woman who was now a prisoner in the art of drugs,in the preparation of images carven in dough--and it might be also inclay--things well known in the art of witchery.
Further, he had been with the Duke Casimir at the last, and the Duke haddeclared that he had partaken of a draught in the house of GottfriedGottfried, and immediately thereafter had been taken ill.
There was not much else of matter in the Friar's evidence, but the mostdeep and vindictive malice against the prisoner was evident in every wordand gesture.
Then Master Gerard rose to address the judges. His venerable appearancewas enhanced by the sternly severe look on his face. He looked anaccusing angel from the pit, swart of skin and with eyes of flame. He wastall and bent of figure, with the serpent-browed head set deep betweenhunched shoulders like those of a moulting vulture. He grasped his bundleof papers and rose to make his final speech.
The judges settled themselves to closer attention. The hush oflistening folk broadened to the utmost limits of the great hall. At awhisper or a cough a hundred threatening faces were turned in thedirection of the sound, so strained was the attention of the people andsuch the fear of the eloquence of this most famous pleader in allGermany. In these days when learning has reached so great a pitch, andis so general that in a largish city there may be as many as a thousandpeople who can read and write, of course there are many eloquent men.But in those days it was not so, and Grerard von Sturm was counted theone Golden Mouth of the Wolfmark.
And this in brief was the matter of his speech. The manner and thepersuasive grace I cannot attempt to give:
"It has at all times been a received opinion of the wise that witchcraftis a thing truly practised--by which such women as the Witch of Endor inHoly Writ were able to call dead men out of their deep graves grown withgrass; or, as in that famous case of Demarchaus, who, having by theadvice of such a woman tasted the flesh of a sacrificed child, wasimmediately turned into a wolf.
"Further, the testimony-of Scripture is clear: 'Thou shalt not suffer awitch to live'; and, again, as sayeth the Wise Man, 'Thou hast hatedthem, 0 God, because with enchantments they did horrible works.'
"Now, men may by conspicuous bravery guard their lives against assault bythe sword of the enemy, against the spear of the invader that cometh overthe wall, even against the knife of the assassin. But who shall be ableto keep out witchcraft? It moveth in the motes of the mid-day sun. Itcomes stealing into the room on the pale beams of the moon. Witchcraftrides in the hurtling blast, and shrieks in the gust which shakes theroof and blows awry the candle in the hall.
"Enchantment can summon Azazeli, the Lord of Flesh and Blood, called inanother place the Lord of the Desert, by whose spiriting of the elementseven the pure water of the spring or the juice of the purple grape maybecome noxious as the brew of the serpent's poison-bag.
"Of such a sort was the ill-doing of this woman. For her own hellishpurposes she desired and compassed the death of the most noble DukeCasimir. There may be those who try to discover a motive for such an act.But in this they do foolishly. For to those who have studied of thismatter, as I have done, it is well known that enchanters and witches everattack those who are the greatest, the noblest, and the most envied--nothoping for any good
to result to themselves, but out of pure malice andenvy, being prompted by the devil in order that the great and nobleshould be destroyed out of the land. Well was it spoken then, 'Ye shallnot suffer a witch to live!'
"And if any plead hereafter of this evil-doer's youth, of her beauty, Icall you to witness that the Evil One ever makes his best implement ofthe fairest metal. As the aged crone, her teacher and accomplice, hathconfessed, this Helene was for long a plotter of dark deeds. By the trustof Duke Casimir in her maiden's innocence he was betrayed to death. Thatone so fair and evil should be turned loose on the world to begin anewher enchantments, and, like a pestilence, to creep into good men'shouses, is a thing not to be thought of. Is she to go forth breathingdeath upon the faces of the young children, to sit squat, like hideoustoad, sucking the blood of the new-born infant, or distillingpoison-drops to put into the draughts of strong men which shall run likemolten iron through their veins till they go mad?
"Hear me, judges, I bid you again remember the word: 'Ye shall not suffera witch to live.' And in the name of the great unbroken law of theWolfmark, which I hold in my hand, I conclude by claiming the pains ofdeath to pass upon the witch-woman who by her deed sent forth untimelythe spirit of the most noble Duke Casimir, Lord of the city of Thorn andDuke of the Wolfmark."
The pleader sat down, calmly as he had risen, and the judges conferredtogether as though they were on the point of delivering their verdict.There had been no sound of applause as Master Gerard had spoken--a hushedattention only, and then the muffled thunder of the great audiencerelaxing its attention and of men turning to whispered discussion amongthemselves.
"Prisoner," said Duke Otho, "have you any to speak for you? Or doyou desire to make any answer to the things which have been urgedagainst you?"
Then, thrilling me to my soul, arose the voice of Helene. Clear and sweetand girlish, without hurry or fear, yet with an innocence which mighthave touched the hardest heart, the maiden upon trial for her life said asimple word or two in her defence.
"I have no one to speak for me. I have nothing to say, save that which Ihave said so often, that before God, who knows all things, I am innocentof thought, word, or deed against any man, and most of all against DukeCasimir of the Wolfsberg."
And as she spoke the multitude was stirred, and voices broke out hereand there:
"No witch!" "She is innocent!" "The guilty are among the judges!" "SaintHelena!" "If she die we will avenge her!"
And though the lictors struck furiously every way, they could not settlethe tumult, and ever the mass of folk swayed more wildly to and fro. Nordo I know what might have happened at that moment but for a cry thatarose in front of the throng.
"The Stranger! The Great Doctor! The Wise Man! Hear him! He is going tospeak for her!"