CHAP. XIV.
The fireworks were now ended, and much admiration was expressed by thespectators. The king roused himself from the mood into which he hadbeen thrown by the faithful Aage's farewell, and the Marsk's sternness.
"Where is the master of that fair pageant?" he said aloud; "where isthe learned Thrand Fistlier?"
"Here, most gracious sovereign!" said a discordant self-satisfiedvoice, close beside the king; and Master Thrand stepped forth from thedark avenue, with his amanuensis, the youthful Master Laurentius, byhis side--
"If my poor skill hath pleased the royal and lordly company, I esteemit a high pleasure and honour."
"You have surprised us in the most agreeable manner;" said the king,"but what I have seen will please me still more, if you will explain tous the ways and means by which such beautiful results are produced."
"The whole is insignificant, in comparison with what I yet purpose,according to promise, to show your grace!" answered the artist, bowinghumbly; "it is a masterpiece that requires but a moment's time. Theways and means by which I produce it belong partly to one of my greatMaster Bacon's most important discoveries, which he hath indeed namedin his writings, but hath not clearly and minutely explained. It is adiscovery which may easily be abused, and therefore can only beentrusted to the initiated. I am the only one of his pupils who fullycomprehend it. I have myself considerably extended and substantiatedwhat was to my master rather a profound conjecture, than an actualdiscovery, and I trust I shall not be deemed vain, if I expect, even inpreference to my great master, to be immortalised by it in the historyof science----"
"Well, well!" interrupted the king, "what is it?"
"The only person to whom I have imparted something of this importantsecret," continued Master Thrand, with a proud look, without sufferinghimself to be abashed, "is my pupil Master Laurentius; but I have notas yet been able to initiate him in the deepest mysteries of an artwhich will perhaps require centuries ere it be fully revealed to theprejudiced human race. With you wise king! and with these enlightenednobles and scholars, I make honourable exception, in showing you what Ihave not even as yet shown my pupil, and what I now, for the firsttime, and in an altogether novel manner, am about to reduce from theoryto a decisive practical result. If this marvellous art is not to diewith me----"
"You expect to become immortal, no doubt. Master Thrand!" interruptedthe king again, somewhat impatiently, "and if I understand you aright,even in the proper signification of the word; if your art enables youto set even death at defiance, your important invention can never be indanger of perishing from the world. Let us now see what you laud sohighly, and keep not our expectation longer on the stretch! Youdiminish by it even the surprise you have perhaps intended us."
"Instantly! most mighty king!" answered the artist in a lowered tone,and produced a calf-skin, which he rolled up and placed on the ground.He then took out of his pocket a small, unknown substance, of some fewinches thickness, which he placed under it, and commenced several otherpreparations, seemingly just as simple and trivial. "Now place yourselfthere, your grace!" he resumed, "and give close heed! Quit not yourplace until you see me withdraw. Let the ladies step aside, it mightperhaps alarm those who are weakly, although there is no dangerwhatever. As soon as I light this torch and bring it into contact withthis simple apparatus, you will hear a voice like that which nature'sgreat spirit sends forth from the clouds of heaven, to announce hissovereignty over all the earth, as lord of life and death; but _this_voice obeys _my_ bidding and _my_ will--now mark!" The ladies steppedaside and looked inquisitively towards the artist. Some of the nobleguests drew nearer; others drew back with suspicion. The king stoodsilent and attentive, on the spot assigned him. The learned MasterPetrus de Dacia stood nearest him; his eyes were raised towards theclear bright stars, and he appeared occasionally to look on the littlemountebank and his whole proceedings, with a kind of contemptuous pity.Count Henrik was not present; at the Drost's suggestion he had employedhimself in securing the castle against every possible attack of theoutlaws, some of whom were supposed to have been recognised among themasked wedding guests who, however, had already escaped.
The expectation of the whole assemblage was now turned towards theexhibition of art, which had been so pompously announced. Themysterious artist was still busied with his preparations, and appearedhimself somewhat thoughtful and hesitating. He lighted a torch at somedistance, and took a book out of his pocket, which he appeared toconsult. He had placed a pair of large spectacles before his eyes, andas he thus stood in the torch-light, with his deformed figure and fieryred mantle, he resembled a goblin or a fire-gnome, rather than a humanbeing. He presently replaced the book in his pocket, and lightedanother torch.
"Stop your ears with this, your grace!" whispered the considerateMaster Laurentius, handing a couple of wax-balls to the king, "fromwhat I know of this specimen of art, it may have a stunning andinjurious effect on the hearing." The king nodded and followed hisadvice. The artist now held the lighted torch in his hand; the redflame lit up his face--it was expressive of a fearful degree ofagitation--every muscle was horribly, almost convulsively,distorted--He approached slowly with the torch towards the mysteriousapparatus, and most of the spectators drew back with apprehension. Theking stood calm and attentive in his place, by the side of MasterPetrus de Dacia, with his foot on the rolled-up hide.
"Hence! back! life is at stake!" said a voice behind him in a frantictone. The king felt himself forcibly grasped by a powerful hand, and atthe same moment a fearful explosion, resembling a clap of thunder, washeard, with a flash as of a thousand combined lightnings; many personsfell to the ground with a cry of horror. The ladies swooned--a cloud ofsmoke encompassed them, with a suffocating sulphureous vapour. Theterrible artist himself lay mangled and lifeless on the grass, with theextinguished torch in his hand. Master Laurentius threw himself uponthe body in grief; there was a fearful panic and confusion.
The king stood unscathed a few steps from the corpse of the wretchedThrand, and now first perceived who had dragged him from his dangerousposition. It was his own brother Christopher, who, with his Duke'sdiploma crumpled in his left hand, and with his right stillconvulsively grasping the king's arm, stood pale as death gazing on thelifeless philosopher. "The judgment of God!" he said in a deep andscarcely audible voice. He quitted his hold of his brother's arm, andthen, as if pursued by evil spirits, rushed into the dark avenue, anddisappeared.
"Christopher! What is this?" said the king in a low voice, as he lookedafter him, with a horrible conjecture, but he quickly recoveredhimself, and hastened to attend his bride and the terrified ladies."The danger is over," he said with calmness, "but this specimen of arthath cost the artist his life. If he hath spoken truth, his dangerousart hath perished with him, and the whole world is lapsed intobarbarism and ignorance. He was a wise and learned man," he added, ashe saw most of the company tranquillised, but heard the suspicion oftreachery loudly expressed--"Let us not judge his intentions! perhapshe hath sacrificed life as a martyr to his science--'twas pity,however, he would personate our Lord; the Almighty lets himself not bemocked."
None were injured but the hapless artist, and the company soon returnedcomposed and thoughtful to the illuminated avenues in the garden.Ingeborg's fears were calmed and she clung tenderly to her bridegroom'sarm. It appeared to her and to all, as if an inconceivable miracle hadsaved the king's life and crushed his treacherous foes. The report ofthe king's peril had interrupted the bridal festivities; but whereverhe showed himself the music and merriment again commenced, and theroyal bridal pair were followed back to the castle, with almostdeafening acclamations.
While the bridemaids conducted the bride to the bridal chamber the kingrepaired to his private apartment. He went in silence to his prie-dieu,bent his knee before the holy crucifix, and became absorbed in silentprayer. He had shut the door after him, and believed he was alone withGod on this spot, to which none beside himself and his confessors ha
daccess; but he presently heard some one moving behind him, and hearose. Junker Christopher stood before him, with his wild countenancebathed in tears. "My brother!" he exclaimed, with outstretched arms, "Ihave sinned against the Lord and against thee; I am not worthy to becalled thy brother. Canst _thou_ forgive me what _I_ cannot name? Canstthou forgive me for the sake of our murdered father's soul, and for thesake of the All-merciful, who blots out every transgression?"
"Christopher!" said the king, in a tone of the greatest consternation,gazing fixedly on him with a piercing look, "thou wouldest--thouknewest----"
"Say not what I willed--say not what I knew!" interrupted the junker,in a choking voice, and covering his face with both his hands; "butgive me thy hand, if thou canst, and say.--'I am reconciled,' and bythe Almighty, who hath struck me with horror, thou shalt see this faceno more ere I can say, 'Brother! now hath the great and terrible Godforgiven me, as thou hast forgiven me!'"
"Christopher! brother! my father's son!" exclaimed Eric; the tearsgushed from his eyes, and he hastened towards his humbled brother withopen arms. "Come to my heart! may the merciful Lord forgive thee as Ihave forgiven thee!" and the brothers sank in each other's arms."Amen!" said a friendly voice beside them. The king's confessor, thepious Master Petrus de Dacia, who had led the despairing Christopherhither, stepped forth from a niche in the chamber, and laid his hand ontheir heads in token of blessing.
"This day hath now become the happiest of my life," said Eric, and wentarm-in-arm with the junker out of the private chamber.
King Eric and the Outlaws, Vol. 3 Page 14
