The Dove in the Eagle's Nest

by Charlotte M. Yonge

  CHAPTER IMASTER GOTTFRIED’S WORKSHOP

  THE upper lattices of a tall, narrow window were open, and admitted theview, of first some richly-tinted vine leaves and purpling grapes, then,in dazzling freshness of new white stone, the lacework fabric of ahalf-built minster spire, with a mason’s crane on the summit, bending asthough craving for a further supply of materials; and beyond, peepingthrough every crevice of the exquisite open fretwork, was the intenselyblue sky of early autumn.

  The lower longer panes of the window were closed, and the glass, dividedinto circles and quarrels, made the scene less distinct; but still thehuge stone tower was traceable, and, farther off, the slope of agently-rising hill, clothed with vineyards blushing into autumn richness.Below, the view was closed by the gray wall of a court-yard, laden withfruit-trees in full bearing, and inclosing paved paths that radiated froma central fountain, and left spaces between, where a few summer flowersstill lingered, and the remains of others showed what their past gloryhad been.

  The interior of the room was wainscoted, the floor paved with bright redand cream-coloured tiles, and the tall stove in one corner decorated withthe same. The eastern end of the apartment was adorned with an exquisitesmall group carved in oak, representing the carpenter’s shop at Nazareth,with the Holy Child instructed by Joseph in the use of tools, and theMother sitting with her book, “pondering these things in her heart.” Allaround were blocks of wood and carvings in varying states ofprogress—some scarcely shaped out, and others in perfect completion. Andthe subjects were equally various. Here was an adoring angel with foldedwings, clasped hands, and rapt face; here a majestic head of an apostleor prophet; here a lovely virgin saint, seeming to play smilingly withthe instrument of her martyrdom; here a grotesque _miserere_ group,illustrating a fairy tale, or caricaturing a popular fable here abeauteous festoon of flowers and fruit, emulating nature in all savecolour; and on the work-table itself, growing under the master’s hand,was a long wreath, entirely composed of leaves and seed-vessels in theirquaint and beauteous forms—the heart-shaped shepherd’s purse, themask-like skull-cap, and the crowned urn of the henbane. The starred capof the poppy was actually being shaped under the tool, copied from agreen capsule, surmounted with purple velvety rays, which, together withits rough and wavy leaf, was held in the hand of a young maiden who kneltby the table, watching the work with eager interest.

  She was not a beautiful girl—not one of those whose “bright eyes raininfluence, and judge the prize.” She was too small, too slight, tooretiring for such a position. If there was something lily-like in herdrooping grace, it was not the queen-lily of the garden that sheresembled, but the retiring lily of the valley—so purely, transparentlywhite was her skin, scarcely tinted by a roseate blush on the cheek, sotender and modest the whole effect of her slender figure, and the soft,downcast, pensive brown eyes, utterly dissimilar in hue from those of allher friends and kindred, except perhaps the bright, quick ones of heruncle, the master-carver. Otherwise, his portly form, open visage, andgood-natured stateliness, as well as his furred cap and gold chain, werethoroughly those of the German burgomaster of the fifteenth century; butthose glittering black eyes had not ceased to betray their French, orrather Walloon, origin, though for several generations back the familyhad been settled at Ulm. Perhaps, too, it was Walloon quickness andreadiness of wit that had made them, so soon as they became affiliated,so prominent in all the councils of the good free city, and so noted forexcellence in art and learning. Indeed the present head of the family,Master Gottfried Sorel, was so much esteemed for his learning that he hadonce had serious thoughts of terming himself Magister GothofredusOxalicus, and might have carried it out but for the very decidedobjections of his wife, Dame Johanna, and his little niece, Christina, tobeing dubbed by any such surname.

  Master Gottfried had had a scapegrace younger brother named Hugh, who hadscorned both books and tools, had been the plague of the workshop, and,instead of coming back from his wandering year of improvement, had joineda band of roving Lanzknechts. No more had been heard of him for a dozenor fifteen years, when he suddenly arrived at the paternal mansion atUlm, half dead with intermittent fever, and with a young, broken-hearted,and nearly expiring wife, his spoil in his Italian campaigns. His rudeaffection had utterly failed to console her for her desolated home andslaughtered kindred, and it had so soon turned to brutality that, whenbrought to comparative peace and rest in his brother’s home, there wasnothing left for the poor Italian but to lie down and die, commending herbabe in broken German to Hausfrau Johanna, and blessing Master Gottfriedfor his flowing Latin assurances that the child should be to them even asthe little maiden who was lying in the God’s acre upon the hillside.

  And verily the little Christina had been a precious gift to the bereavedcouple. Her father had no sooner recovered than he returned to hisroving life, and, except for a report that he had been seen among theretainers of one of the robber barons of the Swabian Alps, nothing hadbeen heard of him; and Master Gottfried only hoped to be spared theactual pain and scandal of knowing when his eyes were blinded and hishead swept off at a blow, or when he was tumbled headlong into a moat,suspended from a tree, or broken on the wheel: a choice of fates that wassure sooner or later to befall him. Meantime, both the burgomeister andburgomeisterinn did their utmost to forget that the gentle little girlwas not their own; they set all their hopes and joys on her, and, makingher supply the place at once of son and daughter, they bred her up in allthe refinements and accomplishments in which the free citizens of Germanytook the lead in the middle and latter part of the fifteenth century. Toaid her aunt in all house-wifely arts, to prepare dainty food and variedliquors, and to spin, weave, and broider, was only a part of Christina’straining; her uncle likewise set great store by her sweet Italian voice,and caused her to be carefully taught to sing and play on the lute, andhe likewise delighted in hearing her read aloud to him from thehereditary store of MSS. and from the dark volumes that began to proceedfrom the press. Nay, Master Gottfried had made experiments in printingand wood-engraving on his own account, and had found no head sointelligent, no hand so desirous to aid him, as his little Christina’s,who, in all that needed taste and skill rather than strength, was worthall his prentices and journeymen together. Some fine bold wood-cuts hadbeen produced by their joint efforts; but these less importantoccupations had of late been set aside by the engrossing interest of theinterior fittings of the great “Dome Kirk,” which for nearly a centuryhad been rising by the united exertions of the burghers, without anyassistance from without. The foundation had been laid in 1377; and atlength, in the year of grace 1472, the crown of the apse had been closedin, and matters were so forward that Master Gottfried’s stall work wasalready in requisition for the choir.

  “Three cubits more,” he reckoned. “Child, hast thou found me fruitsenough for the completing of this border?”

  “O yes, mine uncle. I have the wild rosehip, and the flat shield of themoonwort, and a pea-pod, and more whose names I know not. But shouldthey all be seed and fruit?”

  “Yea, truly, my Stina, for this wreath shall speak of the goodly fruitsof a completed life.”

  “Even as that which you carved in spring told of the blossom and fairpromise of youth,” returned the maiden. “Methinks the one is the mostbeautiful, as it ought to be;” then, after a little pause, and somereckoning, “I have scarce seed-pods enough in store, uncle; might we notseek some rarer shapes in the herb-garden of Master Gerhard, thephysician? He, too, might tell me the names of some of these.”

  “True, child; or we might ride into the country beyond the walls, andseek them. What, little one, wouldst thou not?”

  “So we go not far,” faltered Christina, colouring.

  “Ha, thou hast not forgotten the fright thy companions had from theSchlangenwald reitern when gathering Maydew? Fear not, little coward; ifwe go beyond the suburbs we will take Hans and Peter with their halberts.But I believe thy silly little heart can scarce be free f
or enjoyment ifit can fancy a Reiter within a dozen leagues of thee.”

  “At your side I would not fear. That is, I would not vex thee by myfolly, and I might forget it,” replied Christina, looking down.

  “My gentle child!” the old man said approvingly. “Moreover, if our goodRaiser has his way, we shall soon be free of the reitern ofSchlangenwald, and Adlerstein, and all the rest of the mouse-trap barons.He is hoping to form a league of us free imperial cities with all themore reasonable and honest nobles, to preserve the peace of the country.Even now a letter from him was read in the Town Hall to that effect; and,when all are united against them, my lords-mousers must needs becomepledged to the league, or go down before it.”

  “Ah! that will be well,” cried Christina. “Then will our wagons be nolonger set upon at the Debateable Ford by Schlangenwald or Adlerstein;and our wares will come safely, and there will be wealth enough to raiseour spire! O uncle, what a day of joy will that be when Our Lady’s greatstatue will be set on the summit!”

  “A day that I shall scarce see, and it will be well if thou dost,”returned her uncle, “unless the hearts of the burghers of Ulm return tothe liberality of their fathers, who devised that spire! But whattrampling do I hear?”

  There was indeed a sudden confusion in the house, and, before the uncleand niece could rise, the door was opened by a prosperous apple-faceddame, exclaiming in a hasty whisper, “Housefather, O Housefather, thereare a troop of reitern at the door, dismounting already;” and, as themaster came forward, brushing from his furred vest the shavings and dustof his work, she added in a more furtive, startled accent, “and, if Imistake not, one is thy brother!”

  “He is welcome,” replied Master Gottfried, in his cheery fearless voice;“he brought us a choice gift last time he came; and it may be he is readyto seek peace among us after his wanderings. Come hither, Christina, mylittle one; it is well to be abashed, but thou art not a child who needfear to meet a father.”

  Christina’s extreme timidity, however, made her pale and crimson byturns, perhaps by the infection of anxiety from her aunt, who could notconceal a certain dissatisfaction and alarm, as the maiden, led on eitherside by her adopted parents, thus advanced from the little studio into ahandsomely-carved wooden gallery, projecting into a great wainscoatedroom, with a broad carved stair leading down into it. Down this stairthe three proceeded, and reached the stone hall that lay beyond it, justas there entered from the trellised porch, that covered the steps intothe street, a thin wiry man, in a worn and greasy buff suit, guarded onthe breast and arms with rusty steel, and a battered helmet with thevizor up, disclosing a weather-beaten bronzed face, with somewhat wilddark eyes, and a huge grizzled moustache forming a straight line over hislips. Altogether he was a complete model of the lawless Reiter orLanzknecht, the terror of Swabia, and the bugbear of Christina’simagination. The poor child’s heart died within her as she perceived themutual recognition between her uncle and the new comer; and, while MasterGottfried held out his hands with a cordial greeting of “Welcome, home,brother Hugh,” she trembled from head to foot, as she sank on her knees,and murmured, “Your blessing, honoured father.”

  “Ha? What, this is my girl? What says she? My blessing, eh? Therethen, thou hast it, child, such as I have to give, though they’ll tellthee at Adlerstein that I am more wont to give the other sort ofblessing! Now, give me a kiss, girl, and let me see thee! How now!” ashe folded her in his rough arms; “thou art a mere feather, as slight asour sick Jungfrau herself.” And then, regarding her, as she stooddrooping, “Thou art not half the woman thy mother was—she was stately andstraight as a column, and tall withal.”

  “True!” replied Hausfrau Johanna, in a marked tone; “but both she and herpoor babe had been so harassed and wasted with long journeys andhardships, that with all our care of our Christina, she has never beenstrong or well-grown. The marvel is that she lived at all.”

  “Our Christina is not beautiful, we know,” added her uncle, reassuringlytaking her hand; “but she is a good and meek maiden.”

  “Well, well,” returned the Lanzknecht, “she will answer the purpose wellenough, or better than if she were fair enough to set all our fellowstogether by the ears for her. Camilla, I say—no, what’s her name,Christina?—put up thy gear and be ready to start with me to-morrowmorning for Adlerstein.”

  “For Adlerstein?” re-echoed the housemother, in a tone of horrifieddismay; and Christina would have dropped on the floor but for her uncle’ssustaining hand, and the cheering glance with which he met her imploringlook.

  “Let us come up to the gallery, and understand what you desire, brother,”said Master Gottfried, gravely. “Fill the cup of greeting, Hans. Yourfollowers shall be entertained in the hall,” he added.

  “Ay, ay,” quoth Hugh, “I will show you reason over a goblet of the oldRosenburg. Is it all gone yet, brother Goetz? No? I reckon there wouldnot be the scouring of a glass left of it in a week if it were atAdlerstein.”

  So saying, the trooper crossed the lower room, which contained a hugetiled baking oven, various brilliantly-burnished cooking utensils, and agreat carved cupboard like a wooden bedstead, and, passing the door ofthe bathroom, clanked up the oaken stairs to the gallery, thereception-room of the house. It had tapestry hangings to the wall, andcushions both to the carved chairs and deep windows, which looked outinto the street, the whole storey projecting into close proximity withthe corresponding apartment of the Syndic Moritz, the goldsmith on theopposite side. An oaken table stood in the centre, and the gallery wasadorned with a dresser, displaying not only bright pewter, but gobletsand drinking cups of beautifully-shaped and coloured glass, andsaltcellars, tankards, &c. of gold and silver.

  “Just as it was in the old man’s time,” said the soldier, throwinghimself into the housefather’s chair. “A handful of Lanzknechts wouldmake short work with your pots and pans, good sister Johanna.”

  “Heaven forbid!” said poor Johanna under her breath. “Much good they doyou, up in a row there, making you a slave to furbishing them. There’smore sense in a chair like this—that does rest a man’s bones. Here,Camilla, girl, unlace my helmet! What, know’st not how? What is a womanmade for but to let a soldier free of his trappings? Thou hast done it!There! Now my boots,” stretching out his legs.

  “Hans shall draw off your boots, fair brother,” began the dame; but poorChristina, the more anxious to propitiate him in little things, becauseof the horror and dread with which his main purpose inspired her, wasalready on her knees, pulling with her small quivering hands at the longsteel-guarded boot—a task to which she would have been utterlyinadequate, but for some lazy assistance from her father’s other foot.She further brought a pair of her uncle’s furred slippers, while ReiterHugh proceeded to dangle one of the boots in the air, expatiating on itsfrail condition, and expressing his intention of getting a new pair fromMaster Matthias, the sutor, ere he should leave Ulm on the morrow. Then,again, came the dreaded subject; his daughter must go with him.

  “What would you with Christina, brother?” gravely asked Master Gottfried,seating himself on the opposite side of the stove, while out of sight thefrightened girl herself knelt on the floor, her head on her aunt’s knees,trying to derive comfort from Dame Johanna’s clasping hands, and vehementmurmurs that they would not let their child be taken from them. Alas!these assurances were little in accordance with Hugh’s rough reply, “Andwhat is it to you what I do with mine own?”

  “Only this, that, having bred her up as my child and intended heiress, Imight have some voice.”

  “Oh! in choosing her mate! Some mincing artificer, I trow, fiddling awaywith wood and wire to make gauds for the fair-day! Hast got him here?If I like him, and she likes him, I’ll bring her back when her work isdone.”

  “There is no such person as yet in the case,” said Gottfried. “Christinais not yet seventeen, and I would take my time to find an honest, piousburgher, who will value this precious jewel of mine.” />
  “And let her polish his flagons to the end of her days,” laughed Hughgrimly, but manifestly somewhat influenced by the notion of his brother’swealth. “What, hast no child of thine own?” he added.

  “None, save in Paradise,” answered Gottfried, crossing himself. “Andthus, if Christina should remain with me, and be such as I would haveher, then, brother, my wealth, after myself and my good housewife, shallbe hers, with due provision for thee, if thou shouldst weary of thy wildlife. Otherwise,” he added, looking down, and speaking in an under tone,“my poor savings should go to the completion of the Dome Kirk.”

  “And who told thee, Goetz, that I would do ought with the girl thatshould hinder her from being the very same fat, sourkrout-cooking,pewter-scrubbing housewife of thy mind’s eye?”

  “I have heard nothing of thy designs as yet, brother Hugh, save that thouwouldst take her to Adlerstein, which men greatly belie if it be not anest of robbers.”

  “Aha! thou hast heard of Adlerstein! We have made the backs of yourjolly merchants tingle as well as they could through their well-lineddoublets! Ulm knows of Adlerstein, and the Debateable Ford!”

  “It knows little to its credit,” said Gottfried, gravely; “and it knowsalso that the Emperor is about to make a combination against all theSwabian robber-holds, and that such as join not in it will fare theworse.”

  “Let Kaiser Fritz catch his bear ere he sells its hide! He has nevertried to mount the Eagle’s Ladder! Why, man, Adlerstein might be heldagainst five hundred men by sister Johanna with her rock and spindle!’Tis a free barony, Master Gottfried, I tell thee—has never swornallegiance to Kaiser or Duke of Swabia either! Freiherr Eberhard is asmuch a king on his own rock as Kaiser Fritz ever was of the Romans, andmore too, for I never could find out that they thought much of our kingat Rome; and, as to gainsaying our old Freiherr, one might as well leapover the abyss at once.”

  “Yes, those old free barons are pitiless tyrants,” said Gottfried, “and Iscarce think I can understand thee aright when I hear thee say thouwouldst carry thy daughter to such an abode.”

  “It is the Freiherr’s command,” returned Hugh. “Look you, they have hadwondrous ill-luck with their children; the Freiherrinn Kunigunde has hada dozen at least, and only two are alive, my young Freiherr and my youngLady Ermentrude; and no wonder, you would say, if you could see thegracious Freiherrinn, for surely Dame Holda made a blunder when shefished her out of the fountain woman instead of man. She is Adlersteinherself by birth, married her cousin, and is prouder and more dour thanour old Freiherr himself—fitter far to handle shield than swaddled babe.And now our Jungfrau has fallen into a pining waste, that ’tis a pity tosee how her cheeks have fallen away, and how she mopes and fades. Now,the old Freiherr and her brother, they both dote on her, and would doanything for her. They thought she was bewitched, so we took old MotherIlsebill and tried her with the ordeal of water; but, look you, she sankas innocent as a puppy dog, and Ursel was at fault to fix on any oneelse. Then one day, when I looked into the chamber, I saw the poormaiden sitting, with her head hanging down, as if ’twas too heavy forher, on a high-backed chair, no rest for her feet, and the wind blowingkeen all round her, and nothing to taste but scorched beef, or blackbread and sour wine, and her mother rating her for foolish fancies thatgave trouble. And, when my young Freiherr was bemoaning himself that wecould not hear of a Jew physician passing our way to catch and bring upto cure her, I said to him at last that no doctor could do for her whatgentle tendance and nursing would, for what the poor maiden needed was tobe cosseted and laid down softly, and fed with broths and possets, andall that women know how to do with one another. A proper scowl and hardwords I got from my gracious Lady, for wanting to put burgher softnessinto an Adlerstein; but my old lord and his son opened on the scent atonce. ‘Thou hast a daughter?’ quoth the Freiherr. ‘So please yourgracious lordship,’ quoth I; ‘that is, if she still lives, for I left hera puny infant.’ ‘Well,’ said my lord, ‘if thou wilt bring her here, andher care restores my daughter to health and strength, then will I makethee my body squire, with a right to a fourth part of all the spoil, andfeed for two horses in my stable.’ And young Freiherr Eberhard gave hisword upon it.”

  Gottfried suggested that a sick nurse was the person required rather thana child like Christina; but, as Hugh truly observed, no nurse wouldvoluntarily go to Adlerstein, and it was no use to wait for the hopes ofcapturing one by raid or foray. His daughter was at his own disposal,and her services would be repaid by personal advantages to himself whichhe was not disposed to forego; in effect these were the only means thatthe baron had of requiting any attendance upon his daughter.

  The citizens of old Germany had the strongest and most stringent ideas ofparental authority, and regarded daughters as absolute chattels of theirfather; and Master Gottfried Sorel, though he alone had done the part ofa parent to his niece, felt entirely unable to withstand the nearerclaim, except by representations; and these fell utterly disregarded, asin truth every counsel had hitherto done, upon the ears of Reiter Hugh,ever since he had emerged from his swaddling clothes. The plentifulsupper, full cup of wine, the confections, the soft chair, togetherperhaps with his brother’s grave speech, soon, however, had the effect ofsending him into a doze, whence he started to accept civilly the proposalof being installed in the stranger’s room, where he was speedily snoringbetween two feather beds.

  Then there could be freedom of speech in the gallery, where the uncle andaunt held anxious counsel over the poor little dark-tressed head thatstill lay upon good Johanna’s knees. The dame was indignant andresolute: “Take the child back with him into a very nest of robbers!—herown innocent dove whom they had shielded from all evil like a very nun ina cloister! She should as soon think of yielding her up to be borne offby the great Satan himself with his horns and hoofs.”

  “Hugh is her father, housewife,” said the master-carver.

  “The right of parents is with those that have done the duty of parents,”returned Johanna. “What said the kid in the fable to the goat thatclaimed her from the sheep that bred her up? I am ashamed of you,housefather, for not better loving your own niece.”

  “Heaven knows how I love her,” said Gottfried, as the sweet face wasraised up to him with a look acquitting him of the charge, and he bent tosmooth back the silken hair, and kiss the ivory brow; “but Heaven alsoknows that I see no means of withholding her from one whose claim iscloser than my own—none save one; and to that even thou, housemother,wouldst not have me resort.”

  “What is it?” asked the dame, sharply, yet with some fear.

  “To denounce him to the burgomasters as one of the Adlerstein retainerswho robbed Philipp der Schmidt, and have him fast laid by the heels.”

  Christina shuddered, and Dame Johanna herself recoiled; but presentlyexclaimed, “Nay, you could not do that, good man, but wherefore notthreaten him therewith? Stand at his bedside in early dawn, and tell himthat, if he be not off ere daylight with both his cut-throats, thehalberdiers will be upon him.”

  “Threaten what I neither could nor would perform, mother? That were ashrewish resource.”

  “Yet would it save the child,” muttered Johanna. But, in the meantime,Christina was rising from the floor, and stood before them with loosehair, tearful eyes, and wet, flushed cheeks. “It must be thus,” shesaid, in a low, but not unsteady voice. “I can bear it better since Ihave heard of the poor young lady, sick and with none to care for her. Iwill go with my father; it is my duty. I will do my best; but oh! uncle,so work with him that he may bring me back again.”

  “This from thee, Stina!” exclaimed her aunt; “from thee who art sick forfear of a lanzknecht!”

  “The saints will be with me, and you will pray for me,” said Christina,still trembling.

  “I tell thee, child, thou knowst not what these vile dens are. Heavenforfend thou shouldst!” exclaimed her aunt. “Go only to FatherBalthazar, housefather, and see if he doth not call it a s
ending of alamb among wolves.”

  “Mind’st thou the carving I did for Father Balthazar’s own oratory?”replied Master Gottfried.

  “I talk not of carving! I talk of our child!” said the dame, petulantly.

  “_Ut agnus inter lupos_,” softly said Gottfried, looking tenderly, thoughsadly, at his niece, who not only understood the quotation, but wellremembered the carving of the cross-marked lamb going forth from its foldamong the howling wolves.

  “Alas! I am not an apostle,” said she.

  “Nay, but, in the path of duty, ’tis the same hand that sends theeforth,” answered her uncle, “and the same will guard thee.”

  “Duty, indeed!” exclaimed Johanna. “As if any duty could lead that sillyhelpless child among that herd of evil men, and women yet worse, with agood-for-nothing father, who would sell her for a good horse to the firstdissolute Junker who fell in his way.”

  “I will take care that he knows it is worth his while to restore her safeto us. Nor do I think so ill of Hugh as thou dost, mother. And, for therest, Heaven and the saints and her own discretion must be her guard tillshe shall return to us.”

  “How can Heaven be expected to protect her when you are flying in itsface by not taking counsel with Father Balthazar?”

  “That shalt thou do,” replied Gottfried, readily, secure that FatherBalthazar would see the matter in the same light as himself, andtranquillize the good woman. It was not yet so late but that a servantcould be despatched with a request that Father Balthazar, who lived notmany houses off in the same street, would favour the BurgomeisterinnSorel by coming to speak with her. In a few minutes he appeared,—an agedman, with a sensible face, of the fresh pure bloom preserved by atemperate life. He was a secular parish-priest, and, as well as hisfriend Master Gottfried, held greatly by the views left by the famousStrasburg preacher, Master John Tauler. After the good housemother had,in strong terms, laid the case before him, she expected a trenchantdecision on her own side, but, to her surprise and disappointment, hedeclared that Master Gottfried was right, and that, unless Hugh Soreldemanded anything absolutely sinful of his daughter, it was needful thatshe should submit. He repeated, in stronger terms, the assurance thatshe would be protected in the endeavour to do right, and the Divinepromises which he quoted from the Latin Scriptures gave some comfort tothe niece, who understood them, while they impressed the aunt, who didnot. There was always the hope that, whether the young lady died orrecovered, the conclusion of her illness would be the term of Christina’sstay at Adlerstein, and with this trust Johanna must content herself.The priest took leave, after appointing with Christina to meet her in theconfessional early in the morning before mass; and half the night wasspent by the aunt and niece in preparing Christina’s wardrobe for hersudden journey.

  Many a tear was shed over the tokens of the little services she was wontto render, her half-done works, and pleasant studies so suddenly brokenoff, and all the time Hausfrau Johanna was running on with a lecture onthe diligent preservation of her maiden discretion, with plentifulwarnings against swaggering men-at-arms, drunken lanzknechts, and, aboveall, against young barons, who most assuredly could mean no good by anyburgher maiden. The good aunt blessed the saints that her Stina waslikely only to be lovely in affectionate home eyes; but, for that matter,idle men, shut up in a castle, with nothing but mischief to think of,would be dangerous to Little Three Eyes herself, and Christina had bestnever stir a yard from her lady’s chair, when forced to meet them. Allthis was interspersed with motherly advice how to treat the sick lady,and receipts for cordials and possets; for Johanna began to regard thecase as a sort of second-hand one of her own. Nay, she even turned itover in her mind whether she should not offer herself as the LadyErmentrude’s sick-nurse, as being a less dangerous commodity than herlittle niece: but fears for the well-being of the master-carver, and hisWirthschaft, and still more the notion of gossip Gertrude Grundt hearingthat she had ridden off with a wild lanzknecht, made her at once rejectthe plan, without even mentioning it to her husband or his niece.

  By the time Hugh Sorel rolled out from between his feather beds, and wasabout to don his greasy buff, a handsome new suit, finished point device,and a pair of huge boots to correspond, had been laid by his bedside.

  “Ho, ho! Master Goetz,” said he, as he stumbled into the Stube, “I seethy game. Thou wouldst make it worth my while to visit the father-houseat Ulm?”

  “It shall be worth thy while, indeed, if thou bringest me back my whitedove,” was Gottfried’s answer.

  “And how if I bring her back with a strapping reiter son-in-law?” laughedHugh. “What welcome should the fellow receive?”

  “That would depend on what he might be,” replied Gottfried; and Hugh, hislove of tormenting a little allayed by satisfaction in his buff suit, andby an eye to a heavy purse that lay by his brother’s hand on the table,added, “Little fear of that. Our fellows would look for lustier bridesthan yon little pale face. ’Tis whiter than ever this morning,—but notears. That is my brave girl.”

  “Yes, father, I am ready to do your bidding,” replied Christina, meekly.

  “That is well, child. Mark me, no tears. Thy mother wept day and night,and, when she had wept out her tears, she was sullen, when I would havebeen friendly towards her. It was the worse for her. But, so long asthou art good daughter to me, thou shalt find me good father to thee;”and for a moment there was a kindliness in his eye which made itsufficiently like that of his brother to give some consolation to theshrinking heart that he was rending from all it loved; and she steadiedher voice for another gentle profession of obedience, for which she feltstrengthened by the morning’s orisons.

  “Well said, child. Now canst sit on old Nibelung’s croup? His back-boneis somewhat sharper than if he had battened in a citizen’s stall; but, ifthine aunt can find thee some sort of pillion, I’ll promise thee the bestride thou hast had since we came from Innspruck, ere thou canstremember.”

  “Christina has her own mule,” replied her uncle, “without troublingNibelung to carry double.”

  “Ho! her own! An overfed burgomaster sort of a beast, that will turnrestive at the first sight of the Eagle’s Ladder! However, he may carryher so far, and, if we cannot get him up the mountain, I shall know whatto do with him,” he muttered to himself.

  But Hugh, like many a gentleman after him, was recusant at the sight ofhis daughter’s luggage; and yet it only loaded one sumpter mule, besidesforming a few bundles which could be easily bestowed upon the saddles ofhis two knappen, while her lute hung by a silken string on her arm. Bothshe and her aunt thought she had been extremely moderate; but his crywas, What could she want with so much? Her mother had never been allowedmore than would go into a pair of saddle-bags; and his own Jungfrau—shehad never seen so much gear together in her life; he would be laughed toscorn for his presumption in bringing such a fine lady into the castle;it would be well if Freiherr Eberhard’s bride brought half as much.

  Still he had a certain pride in it—he was, after all, by birth andbreeding a burgher—and there had been evidently a softening andcivilizing influence in the night spent beneath his paternal roof, andold habits, and perhaps likewise in the submission he had met with fromhis daughter. The attendants, too, who had been pleased with theirquarters, readily undertook to carry their share of the burthen, and,though he growled and muttered a little, he at length was won over toconsent, chiefly, as it seemed, by Christina’s obliging readiness toleave behind the bundle that contained her holiday kirtle.

  He had been spared all needless irritation. Before his waking, Christinahad been at the priest’s cell, and had received his last blessings andcounsels, and she had, on the way back, exchanged her farewells and tearswith her two dearest friends, Barbara Schmidt, and Regina Grundt,confiding to the former her cage of doves, and to the latter the myrtle,which, like every German maiden, she cherished in her window, to supplyher future bridal wreath. Now pale as death, but so resolutely composedas to b
e almost disappointing to her demonstrative aunt, she quietly wentthrough her home partings; while Hausfrau Johanna adjured her father byall that was sacred to be a true guardian and protector of the child, andhe could not forbear from a few tormenting auguries about the lanzknechtson-in-law. Their effect was to make the good dame more passionate inher embraces and admonitions to Christina to take care of herself. Shewould have a mass said every day that Heaven might have a care of her!

  Master Gottfried was going to ride as far as the confines of the freecity’s territory, and his round, sleek, cream-coloured palfrey, used toambling in civic processions, was as great a contrast to raw-boned,wild-eyed Nibelung, all dappled with misty grey, as was the stately,substantial burgher to his lean, hungry-looking brother, or DameJohanna’s dignified, curled, white poodle, which was forcibly withheldfrom following Christina, to the coarse-bristled, wolfish-looking houndwho glared at the household pet with angry and contemptuous eyes, andmade poor Christina’s heart throb with terror whenever it bounded nearher.

  Close to her uncle she kept, as beneath the trellised porches that camedown from the projecting gables of the burghers’ houses many a well-knownface gazed and nodded, as they took their way through the crookedstreets, many a beggar or poor widow waved her a blessing. Out into themarket-place, with its clear fountain adorned with arches and statues,past the rising Dome Kirk, where the swarms of workmen unbonneted to themaster-carver, and the reiter paused with an irreverent sneer at thesmall progress made since he could first remember the building. How poorlittle Christina’s soul clung to every cusp of the lacework spire, everyarch of the window, each of which she had hailed as an achievement! Thetears had well-nigh blinded her in a gush of feeling that came on herunawares, and her mule had his own way as he carried her under the archof the tall and beautifully-sculptured bridge tower, and over the noblebridge across the Danube.

  Her uncle spoke much, low and earnestly, to his brother. She knew it wasin commendation of her to his care, and an endeavour to impress him witha sense of the kind of protection she would require, and she kept out ofearshot. It was enough for her to see her uncle still, and feel that histenderness was with her, and around her. But at last he drew his rein.“And now, my little one, the daughter of my heart, I must bid theefarewell,” he said.

  Christina could not be restrained from springing from her mule, andkneeling on the grass to receive his blessing, her face hidden in herhands, that her father might not see her tears.

  “The good God bless thee, my child,” said Gottfried, who seldom invokedthe saints; “bless thee, and bring thee back in His own good time. Thouhast been a good child to us; be so to thine own father. Do thy work,and come back to us again.”

  The tears rained down his cheeks, as Christina’s head lay on his bosom,and then with a last kiss he lifted her again on her mule, mounted hishorse, and turned back to the city, with his servant.

  Hugh was merciful enough to let his daughter gaze long after theretreating figure ere he summoned her on. All day they rode, at firstthrough meadow lands and then through more broken, open ground, where atmid-day they halted, and dined upon the plentiful fare with which thehousemother had provided them, over which Hugh smacked his lips, andowned that they did live well in the old town! Could Christina make suchsausages?

  “Not as well as my aunt.”

  “Well, do thy best, and thou wilt win favour with the baron.”

  The evening began to advance, and Christina was very weary, as the purplemountains that she had long watched with a mixture of fear and hope beganto look more distinct, and the ground was often in abrupt ascents. Herfather, without giving space for complaints, hurried her on. He mustreach the Debateable Ford ere dark. It was, however, twilight when theycame to an open space, where, at the foot of thickly forest-clad risingground, lay an expanse of turf and rich grass, through which a streammade its way, standing in a wide tranquil pool as if to rest after itsrough course from the mountains. Above rose, like a dark wall, crag uponcrag, peak on peak, in purple masses, blending with the sky; and Hugh,pointing upwards to a turreted point, apparently close above their heads,where a star of light was burning, told her that there was Adlerstein,and this was the Debateable Ford.

  In fact, as he explained, while splashing through the shallow expanse,the stream had changed its course. It was the boundary between the landsof Schlangenwald and Adlerstein, but it had within the last sixty yearsburst forth in a flood, and had then declined to return to its own bed,but had flowed in a fresh channel to the right of the former one. TheFreiherren von Adlerstein claimed the ground to the old channel, theGraffen von Schlangenwald held that the river was the landmark; and thedispute had a greater importance than seemed explained from the worth ofthe rushy space of ground in question, for this was the passage of theItalian merchants on their way from Constance, and every load that wasoverthrown in the river was regarded as the lawful prey of the noble onwhose banks the catastrophe befell.

  Any freight of goods was anxiously watched by both nobles, and it was nottheir fault if no disaster befell the travellers. Hugh talked of theSchlangenwald marauders with the bitterness of a deadly feud, butmanifestly did not breathe freely till his whole convoy were safe acrossboth the wet and the dry channel.

  Christina supposed they should now ascend to the castle; but her fatherlaughed, saying that the castle was not such a step off as she fancied,and that they must have daylight for the Eagle’s Stairs. He led the waythrough the trees, up ground that she thought mountain already, andfinally arrived at a miserable little hut, which served the purpose of aninn.

  He was received there with much obsequiousness, and was plainly a greatauthority there. Christina, weary and frightened, descended from hermule, and was put under the protection of a wild, rough-looking peasantwoman, who stared at her like something from another world, but at lengthshowed her a nook behind a mud partition, where she could spread hermantle, and at least lie down, and tell her beads unseen, if she couldnot sleep in the stifling, smoky atmosphere, amid the sounds of carousalamong her father and his fellows.

  The great hound came up and smelt to her. His outline was so-wolfish,that she had nearly screamed: but, more in terror at the men who mighthave helped her than even at the beast, she tried to smooth him with hertrembling hand, whispered his name of “Festhold,” and found him lickingher hand, and wagging his long rough tail. And he finally lay down ather feet, as though to protect her.

  “Is it a sign that good angels will not let me be hurt?” she thought,and, wearied out, she slept.