The Dove in the Eagle's Nest

by Charlotte M. Yonge

  CHAPTER XVITHE EAGLE AND THE SNAKE

  THE reconciliation made Ebbo retract his hasty resolution ofrelinquishing all the benefits resulting from his connection with theSorel family, and his mother’s fortune made it possible to carry out manychanges that rendered the castle and its inmates far more prosperous inappearance than had ever been the case before. Christina had once againthe appliances of a _wirthschaft_, such as she felt to be the suitableand becoming appurtenance of a right-minded Frau, gentle or simple, andshe felt so much the happier and more respectable.

  A chaplain had also been secured. The youths had insisted on his beingcapable of assisting their studies, and, a good man had been found whowas fearfully learned, having studied at all possible universities, butthen failing as a teacher, because he was so dreamy and absent as to beincapable of keeping the unruly students in order. Jobst Schön was hisproper name, but he was translated into Jodocus Pulcher. The chapel wasduly adorned, the hall and other chambers were fitted up with some degreeof comfort; the castle court was cleansed, the cattle sheds removed tothe rear, and the serfs were presented with seed, and offered payment incoin if they would give their labour in fencing and clearing thecornfield and vineyard which the barons were bent on forming on the sunnyslope of the ravine. Poverty was over, thanks to the marriage portion,and yet Ebbo looked less happy than in the days when there was but a baresubsistence; and he seemed to miss the full tide of city life more thandid his brother, who, though he had enjoyed Ulm more heartily at thetime, seemed to have returned to all his mountain delights with greaterzest than ever. At his favourite tarn, he revelled in the vast stillnesswith the greater awe for having heard the hum of men, and his minstreldreams had derived fresh vigour from contact with the active world. But,as usual, he was his brother’s chief stay in the vexations of a reformer.The serfs had much rather their lord had turned out a freebooter than animprover. Why should they sow new seeds, when the old had sufficed theirfathers? Work, beyond the regulated days when they scratched up the soilof his old enclosure, was abhorrent to them. As to his offered coin,they needed nothing it would buy, and had rather bask in the sun or sleepin the smoke. A vineyard had never been heard of on Adlerstein mountain:it was clean contrary to his forefathers’ habits; and all came of the baddrop of restless burgher blood, that could not let honest folk rest.

  Ebbo stormed, not merely with words, but blows, became ashamed of hisviolence, tried to atone for it by gifts and kind words, and in returnwas sulkily told that he would bring more good to the village by rollingthe fiery wheel straight down hill at the wake, than by all hisnew-fangled ways. Had not Koppel and a few younger men been more open toinfluence, his agricultural schemes could hardly have begun; butFriedel’s persuasions were not absolutely without success, and every roodthat was dug was achieved by his patience and perseverance.

  Next came home the Graf von Schlangenwald. He had of late inhabited hiscastle in Styria, but in a fierce quarrel with some of his neighbours hehad lost his eldest son, and the pacification enforced by the King of theRomans had so galled and infuriated him that he had deserted that part ofthe country and returned to Swabia more fierce and bitter than ever.Thenceforth began a petty border warfare such as had existed whenChristina first knew Adlerstein, but had of late died out. The shepherdlad came home weeping with wrath. Three mounted Schlangenwaldern haddriven off his four best sheep, and beaten himself with their halberds,though he was safe on Adlerstein ground. Then a light thrown by aSchlangenwald reiter consumed all Jobst’s pile of wood. The swine didnot come home, and were found with spears sticking in them; the greatbroad-horned bull that Ebbo had brought from the pastures of Ulm vanishedfrom the Alp below the Gemsbock’s Pass, and was known to be salted forwinter use at Schlangenwald.

  Still Christina tried to persuade her sons that this might be only theretainers’ violence, and induced Ebbo to write a letter, complaining ofthe outrages, but not blaming the Count, only begging that his followersmight be better restrained. The letter was conveyed by a lay brother—noother messenger being safe. Ebbo had protested from the first that itwould be of no use, but he waited anxiously for the answer.

  Thus it stood, when conveyed to him by a tenant of the Ruprechtcloister:—

  “Wot you, Eberhard, Freiherr von Adlerstein, that your house have injured me by thought, word, and deed. Your great-grandfather usurped my lands at the ford. Your grandfather stole my cattle and burnt my mills. Then, in the war, he slew my brother Johann and lamed for life my cousin Matthias. Your father slew eight of my retainers and spoiled my crops. You yourself claim my land at the ford, and secure the spoil which is justly mine. Therefore do I declare war and feud against you. Therefore to you and all yours, to your helpers and helpers’ helpers, am I a foe. And thereby shall I have maintained my honour against you and yours.

  WOLFGANG, Graf von Schlangenwald. HIEROM, Graf von Schlangenwald—his cousin.”

  &c. &c. &c.

  And a long list of names, all connected with Schlangenwald, followed; anda large seal, bearing the snake of Schlangenwald, was appended thereto.

  “The old miscreant!” burst out Ebbo; “it is a feud brief.”

  “A feud brief!” exclaimed Friedel; “they are no longer according to thelaw.”

  “Law?—what cares he for law or mercy either? Is this the way men act bythe League? Did we not swear to send no more feud letters, nor haverecourse to fist-right?”

  “We must appeal to the Markgraf of Wurtemburg,” said Friedel.

  It was the only measure in their power, though Ebbo winced at it; but hisoaths were recent, and his conscience would not allow him to transgressthem by doing himself justice. Besides, neither party could take thecastle of the other, and the only reprisals in his power would have beenon the defenceless peasants of Schlangenwald. He must therefore lay thewhole matter before the Markgraf, who was the head of the Swabian League,and bound to redress his wrongs. He made his arrangements withoutfaltering, selecting the escort who were to accompany him, and insistingon leaving Friedel to guard his mother and the castle. He would not forthe world have admitted the suggestion that the counsel and introductionof Adlerstein Wildschloss would have been exceedingly useful to him.

  Poor Christina! It was a great deal too like that former departure, andher heart was heavy within her! Friedel was equally unhappy at lettinghis brother go without him, but it was quite necessary that he and thefew armed men who remained should show themselves at all points open tothe enemy in the course of the day, lest the Freiherr’s absence should beremarked. He did his best to cheer his mother, by reminding her thatEbbo was not likely to be taken at unawares as their father had been; andhe shared the prayers and chapel services, in which she poured out heranxiety.

  The blue banner came safe up the Pass again, but Wurtemburg had beenformally civil to the young Freiherr; but he had laughed at the fendletter as a mere old-fashioned habit of Schangenwald’s that it was betternot to notice, and he evidently regarded the stealing of a bull or themisusing of a serf as far too petty a matter for his attention. It wasas if a judge had been called by a crying child to settle a nurseryquarrel. He told Ebbo that, being a free Baron of the empire, he mustkeep his bounds respected; he was free to take and hang any spoiler hecould catch, but his bulls were his own affair: the League was not forsuch gear.

  And a knight who had ridden out of Stuttgard with Ebbo had told him thatit was no wonder that this had been his reception, for not only wasSchlangenwald an old intimate of the Markgraf, but Swabia was claimed asa fief of Wurtemburg, so that Ebbo’s direct homage to the Emperor,without the interposition of the Markgraf, had made him no object offavour.

  “What could be done?” asked Ebbo.

  “Fire some Schlangenwald hamlet, and teach him to respect yours,” saidthe knight.

  “The poor serfs are guil
tless.”

  “Ha! ha! as if they would not rob any of yours. Give and take, that’sthe way the empire wags, Sir Baron. Send him a feud letter in return,with a goodly file of names at its foot, and teach him to respect you.”

  “But I have sworn to abstain from fist-right.”

  “Much you gain by so abstaining. If the League will not take the troubleto right you, right yourself.”

  “I shall appeal to the Emperor, and tell him how his League isadministered.”

  “Young sir, if the Emperor were to guard every cow in his domains hewould have enough to do. You will never prosper with him without someone to back your cause better than that free tongue of yours. Hast nosister that thou couldst give in marriage to a stout baron that could aidyou with strong arm and prudent head?”

  “I have only one twin brother.”

  “Ah! the twins of Adlerstein! I remember me. Was not the otherAdlerstein seeking an alliance with your lady mother? Sure no better aidcould be found. He is hand and glove with young King Max.”

  “That may never be,” said Ebbo, haughtily. And, sure that he shouldreceive the same advice, he decided against turning aside to consult hisuncle at Ulm, and returned home in a mood that rejoiced Heinz and Hattowith hopes of the old days, while it filled his mother with dreary dismayand apprehension.

  “Schlangenwald should suffer next time he transgressed,” said Ebbo. “Itshould not again be said that he himself was a coward who appealed to thelaw because his hand could not keep his head.”

  The “next time” was when the first winter cold was setting in. A partyof reitern came to harry an outlying field, where Ulrich had raised ascanty crop of rye. Tidings reached the castle in such good time thatthe two brothers, with Heinz, the two Ulm grooms, Koppel, and a troop ofserfs, fell on the marauders before they had effected much damage, andwhile some remained to trample out the fire, the rest pursued the enemyeven to the village of Schlangenwald.

  “Burn it, Herr Freiherr,” cried Heinz, hot with victory. “Let them learnhow to make havoc of our corn.”

  But a host of half-naked beings rushed out shrieking about sick children,bed-ridden grandmothers, and crippled fathers, and falling on theirknees, with their hands stretched out to the young barons. Ebbo turnedaway his head with hot tears in his eyes. “Friedel, what can we do?”

  “Not barbarous murder,” said Friedel.

  “But they brand us for cowards!”

  “The cowardice were in striking here,” and Friedel sprang to withholdKoppel, who had lighted a bundle of dried fern ready to thrust into thethatch.

  “Peasants!” said Ebbo, with the same impulse, “I spare you. You did notthis wrong. But bear word to your lord, that if he will meet me withlance and sword, he will learn the valour of Adlerstein.”

  The serfs flung themselves before him in transports of gratitude, but heturned hastily away and strode up the mountain, his cheek glowing as heremembered, too late, that his defiance would be scoffed at, as a boy’svaunt. By and by he arrived at the hamlet, where he found a prisoner, ascowling, abject fellow, already well beaten, and now held by two serfs.

  “The halter is ready, Herr Freiherr,” said old Ulrich, “and yon rowanstump is still as stout as when your Herr grandsire hung threelanzknechts on it in one day. We only waited your bidding.”

  “Quick then, and let me hear no more,” said Ebbo, about to descend thepass, as if hastening from the execution of a wolf taken in a gin.

  “Has he seen the priest?” asked Friedel.

  The peasants looked as if this were one of Sir Friedel’s unaccountablefancies. Ebbo paused, frowned, and muttered, but seeing a move as if todrag the wretch towards the stunted bush overhanging an abyss, heshouted, “Hold, Ulrich! Little Hans, do thou run down to the castle, andbring Father Jodocus to do his office!”

  The serfs were much disgusted. “It never was so seen before, HerrFreiherr,” remonstrated Heinz; “fang and hang was ever the word.”

  “What shrift had my lord’s father, or mine?” added Koppel.

  “Look you!” said Ebbo, turning sharply. “If Schlangenwald be a godlessruffian, pitiless alike to soul and body, is that a cause that I shouldstain myself too?”

  “It were true vengeance,” growled Koppel.

  “And now,” grumbled Ulrich, “will my lady hear, and there will be feeblepleadings for the vermin’s life.”

  Like mutterings ensued, the purport of which was caught by Friedel, andmade him say to Ebbo, who would again have escaped the disagreeablenessof the scene, “We had better tarry at hand. Unless we hold the folk insome check there will be no right execution. They will torture him todeath ere the priest comes.”

  Ebbo yielded, and began to pace the scanty area of the flat rock wherethe need-fire was wont to blaze. After a time he exclaimed: “Friedel,how couldst ask me? Knowst not that it sickens me to see a mountain catkilled, save in full chase. And thou—why, thou art white as the snowcrags!”

  “Better conquer the folly than that he there should be put to needlesspain,” said Friedel, but with labouring breath that showed how terriblewas the prospect to his imaginative soul not inured to death-scenes likethose of his fellows.

  Just then a mocking laugh broke forth. “Ha!” cried Ebbo, looking keenlydown, “what do ye there? Fang and hang may be fair; fang and torment isbase! What was it, Lieschen?”

  “Only, Herr Freiherr, the caitiff craved drink, and the fleischerinn gavehim a cup from the stream behind the slaughter-house, where we killed theswine. Fit for the like of him!”

  “By heavens, when I forbade torture!” cried Ebbo, leaping from the rockin time to see the disgusting draught held to the lips of the captive,whose hands were twisted back and bound with cruel tightness; for theGerman boor, once roused from his lazy good-nature, was doubly savagefrom stolidity.

  “Wretches!” cried Ebbo, striking right and left with the back of hissword, among the serfs, and then cutting the thong that was eating intothe prisoner’s flesh, while Friedel caught up a wooden bowl, filled itwith pure water, and offered it to the captive, who drank deeply.

  “Now,” said Ebbo, “hast ought to say for thyself?”

  A low curse against things in general was the only answer.

  “What brought thee here?” continued Ebbo, in hopes of extracting someexcuse for pardon; but the prisoner only hung his head as one stupefied,brutally indifferent and hardened against the mere trouble of answering.Not another word could be extracted, and Ebbo’s position was veryuncomfortable, keeping guard over his condemned felon, with the sulkypeasants herding round, in fear of being balked of their prey; and thereluctance growing on him every moment to taking life in cold blood.Right of life and death was a heavy burden to a youth under seventeen,unless he had been thoughtless and reckless, and from this Ebbo had beenprevented by his peculiar life. The lion cub had never tasted blood.

  The situation was prolonged beyond expectation.

  Many a time had the brothers paced their platform of rock, the criminalhad fallen into a dose, and women and boys were murmuring that they mustcall home their kine and goats, and it was a shame to debar them of thesight of the hanging, long before Hans came back between crying andstammering, to say that Father Jodocus had fallen into so deep a studyover his book, that he only muttered “Coming,” then went into anothermusing fit, whence no one could rouse him to do more than say “Coming!Let him wait.”

  “I must go and bring him, if the thing is to be done,” said Friedel.

  “And let it last all night!” was the answer. “No, if the man were todie, it should be at once, not by inches. Hark thee, rogue!” stirringhim with his foot.

  “Well, sir,” said the man, “is the hanging ready yet? You’ve been longenough about it for us to have twisted the necks of every Adlerstein ofyou all.”

  “Look thee, caitiff!” said Ebbo; “thou meritest the rope as well as anywolf on the mountain, but we have kept thee so long in suspense, that ifthou canst say a word for th
y life, or pledge thyself to meddle no morewith my lands, I’ll consider of thy doom.”

  “You have had plenty of time to consider it,” growled the fellow.

  A murmur, followed by a wrathful shout, rose among the villagers.“Letting off the villain! No! No! Out upon him! He dares not!”

  “Dare!” thundered Ebbo, with flashing eyes. “Rascals as ye are, think yeto hinder me from daring? Your will to be mine? There, fellow; awaywith thee! Up to the Gemsbock’s Pass! And whoso would follow him, lethim do so at his peril!”

  The prisoner was prompt to gather himself up and rush like a huntedanimal to the path, at the entrance of which stood both twins, with drawnswords, to defend the escape. Of course no one ventured to follow; andsurly discontented murmurs were the sole result as the peasantsdispersed. Ebbo, sheathing his sword, and putting his arm into hisbrother’s, said: “What, Friedel, turned stony-hearted? Hadst never aword for the poor caitiff?”

  “I knew thou wouldst never do the deed,” said Friedel, smiling.

  “It was such wretched prey,” said Ebbo. “Yet shall I be despised forthis! Would that thou hadst let me string him up shriftless, as anyother man had done, and there would have been an end of it!”

  And even his mother’s satisfaction did not greatly comfort Ebbo, for hewas of the age to feel more ashamed of a solecism than a crime.Christina perceived that this was one of his most critical periods oflife, baited as he was by the enemy of his race, and feeling all thedisadvantages which heart and conscience gave him in dealing with a manwho had neither, at a time when public opinion was always with the mostmasterful. The necessity of arming his retainers and having fighting menas a guard were additional temptations to hereditary habits of violence;and that so proud and fiery a nature as his should never become involvedin them was almost beyond hope. Even present danger seemed more aroundthan ever before. The estate was almost in a state of siege, andChristina never saw her sons quit the castle without thinking of theirfather’s fate, and passing into the chapel to entreat for their returnunscathed in body or soul. The snow, which she had so often hailed as afriend, was never more welcome than this winter; not merely as shuttingthe enemy out, and her sons in, but as cutting off all danger of a visitfrom her suitor, who would now come armed with his late sufferings in herbehalf; and, moreover, with all the urgent need of a wise and respectedhead and protector for her sons. Yet the more evident the expediencybecame, the greater grew her distaste.

  Still the lonely life weighed heavily on Ebbo. Light-hearted Friedel wasever busy and happy, were he chasing the grim winter game—the bear andwolf—with his brother, fencing in the hall, learning Greek with thechaplain, reading or singing to his mother, or carving graceful angelforms to adorn the chapel. Or he could at all times soar into a minstreldream of pure chivalrous semi-allegorical romance, sometimes told overthe glowing embers to his mother and brother. All that came to Friedelwas joy, from battling with the bear on a frozen rock, to persuading rudelittle Hans to come to the Frau Freiherrinn to learn his Paternoster.But the elder twin might hunt, might fence, might smile or kindle at hisbrother’s lay, but ever with a restless gloom on him, a doubt of thefuture which made him impatient of the present, and led to a sharpnessand hastiness of manner that broke forth in anger at slight offences.

  “The matron’s coif succeeding the widow’s veil,” Friedel heard himmuttering even in sleep, and more than once listened to it as Ebbo leantover the battlements—as he looked over the white world to the gray mistabove the city of Ulm.

  “Thou, who mockest my forebodings and fancies, to dwell on that gipsyaugury!” argued Friedel. “As thou saidst at the time, Wildschloss’slooks gave shrewd cause for it.”

  “The answer is in mine own heart,” answered Ebbo. “Since our stay atUlm, I have ever felt as though the sweet motherling were less my own!And the same with my house and lands. Rule as I will, a mocking laughcomes back to me, saying: ‘Thou art but a boy, Sir Baron, thou dost butplay at lords and knights.’ If I had hung yon rogue of a reiter, Iwonder if I had felt my grasp more real?”

  “Nay,” said Friedel, glancing from the sparkling white slopes to the pureblue above, “our whole life is but a play at lords and knights, with theblessed saints as witnesses of our sport in the tilt-yard.”

  “Were it merely that,” said Ebbo, impatiently, “I were not so galled.Something hangs over us, Friedel! I long that these snows would melt,that I might at least know what it is!”