by Georg Ebers
CHAPTER XXIII.
Wolf left the Hiltner house behind him with the feeling that he hadupheld the cause of his Church against the learned opponent to thebest of his ability, and had not been defeated. Yet he was not entirelysatisfied. In former years he had read the Hutten dialogues, and, thoughhe disapproved of their assaults upon the Holy Father in Rome, he hadwarmly sympathized with the fiery knight's love for his native land.
Far as, at the court of Charles, the German ranked below theNetherlander, the Spaniard, and the Italian, Wolf was proud of being aGerman, and it vexed him that he had not at least made the attempt torepel the theologian's charge that the Catholic, to whom the authorityof Rome was the highest, would be inferior to the Protestant inpatriotism.
But he would have succeeded no better in convincing Erasmus than thelearned theologians who, at the Emperor's instance, had held an earnestreligious discussion in Ratisbon a short time before, had succeeded inarriving at even a remote understanding.
As he reached the Haidplatz new questions of closer interest werecasting these of supreme importance into the shade.
He was to enter his home directly, and then the woman whom he lovedwould rest above him, and alone, unwatched, and unguarded, perhaps dreamof another.
Who was the man for whose sake she withdrew from him the heart to whosepossession he had the best and at any rate the oldest right?
Certainly not Baron Malfalconnet.
Neither could he believe it to be Peter Schlumperger or young Crafft.
Yet perhaps the fortunate man belonged to the court. If that was thecase, how easy would the game now be made for him with the girl, who wasguarded by no faithful eye!
His heart throbbed faster as he entered Red Cock Street.
The moon was still in the cloudless, starry sky, shining with her calm,silver radiance upon one side of the street. Barbara's bow-windowwas touched by it, and--what did it mean?--a small lamp must still beburning in her room, for the window was illuminated, though but dimly.Perhaps she had kept the light because she felt timid in her lonelychamber. Now Wolf crossed obliquely toward his house.
Just at that moment he saw the tall figure of a man.
What was he doing there at this hour? Was it a thief or a burglar? Therewas no lack of evil-disposed folk in this time of want.
Wolf still wore his court costume, and the short dress sword whichbelonged to it hung in its sheath.
His heart beat quicker as he loosed the blade and advanced toward thesuspicious night-bird.
Just then he saw the other calmly turn the big key and take it out ofthe door.
That could be no thief! No, certainly not!
It was a gentleman of tall stature, whose aristocratic figure andSpanish court costume were partially covered by a long cloak.
There was no doubt! Wolf could not be mistaken, for, while the formerwas putting the key in his pocket, the mantle had slipped from oneshoulder.
"Malfalconnet," muttered Wolf, grasping the hilt of his short sword morefirmly.
But at the same moment the moonlight showed him the Spaniard's face.A chill ran through his frame, followed by a feverish heat, for thenocturnal intruder into his house was not the baron, but Quijada, thenoble Don Luis, his patron, who had just been lauding to the skies thevirtues, the beauty, the goodness of the peerless Dona Magdalena deUlloa, his glorious wife. He had intended to send Wolf, the friendand housemate of his victim, to Spain to become the instructor of hisdeceived wife.
He saw through the game, and it seemed as if he could not help laughingaloud in delight at his own penetration, in rage and despair.
How clearly, and yet how coarsely and brutally, it had all been planned!
The infamous scoundrel, who possessed so much influence over theEmperor, had first sent old Blomberg away; now he, Wolf, was to follow,that no one might stand between the game and the pursuer.
Barbara's lover must be Quijada. For the Spaniard's sake she had givenhim up, and perhaps even played the part of adviser in this abominablebusiness. It must be so, for who else could know what she was to him?
Yet no! He himself had aided the guilty passion of this couple, for howwarmly he had sung Barbara's praises to Don Luis! And then in how many aconversation with Barbara had Quijada's name been mentioned, and he hadalways spoken of this man with warm regard. Hence her remark that hehimself deemed her lover worthy of esteem.
In a few seconds these thoughts darted through his heated brain with thespeed of lightning.
The street began to whirl around him, and a deep loathing of the basetraitor, a boundless hatred of the destroyer of his happiness, of thebetrayed girl, and the life which led through such abysses overpoweredthe deluded man.
The infamous girl had just left her lover's arms, her kiss was doubtlessstill glowing on his faithless lips!
Wolf groaned aloud like a sorely stricken deer, and for a moment itseemed to him that the best course would be to put an end to his ownruined life. But rage and hate urged him upon another victim, and,unable to control himself, he rushed with uplifted blade upon thehypocritical seducer.
This utterly unexpected attack did not give Don Luis time to draw hissword, but, with ready presence of mind, he forced the hand wielding theweapon aside, and, while he felt a sharp pain in his left arm, seizedthe assassin with his right hand, swung his light figure upward, andwith the strength and skill peculiar to him hurled it with all his mightupon the stone steps of the dwelling.
Not a single word, only a savage cry of fury, followed by a piteousmoan, had escaped Wolf's lips during this swift deed of violence.
The Spaniard scornfully thrust aside with his foot the inert body lyingon the ground. His arrogance did not deem it worth while to ascertainwhat had befallen the murderer who had been punished. He had moreimportant things to do, for his own blood was flowing in a hot, fullstream over his hand.
Accustomed in bull fighting and in battle to maintain his calmness andcaution even in the most difficult situation, he said to himself that,if his wound should be connected with the murder before this house itwould betray his master's secret to the Ratisbon courts of justice, andthereby to the public.
He had heard the skull of the lurking thief strike against the granitesteps of the house. So the dark, motionless mass before him was probablya corpse. There was no hurry about that, but his own condition compelledhim to take care of himself. Entering the shadow of a tall buildingopposite the dwelling, he assured himself that the street was entirelyempty, and then, drawing the aching arm from the doublet, he examinedthe wound as well as the dim light would permit. It was deep, it istrue, but the robber's weapon appeared merely to have cut the flesh.
A jerk, and Quijada had stripped the ruff from his neck, and, as thisdid not suffice, he cut with his sword blade and his teeth a piece offine linen from his shirt.
This would do for the first bandage. The skilful hand which, in battle,had aided many a bleeding comrade soon completed the task.
Then he flung his uninjured cloak around him again, and turned towardthe lifeless body at the foot of the steps.
There lay the murderer's weapon--a delicately fashioned short dresssword, with an ivory hilt, not the knife of a common highwayman.
That was the reason the wound was so narrow.
But who had sought his life with this dainty steel blade?
There were few at court who envied him the Emperor's favour--his officeoften compelled him to deny even persons of higher rank access to hisMajesty; but he had never--this he could assure himself--treated evenmen of humble station harshly or unjustly. If he had offended any one byhaughty self-confidence, it had been unintentional. He was not to blamefor the manner natural to the Castilian.
Besides, he had little time for reflection; scarcely had he hastilywiped off with the little cloak that lay beside him the blood whichcovered the face of the prostrate man than he started back in horror,for the person who had sought his life was the very one whom he hadhonoured with his highest confidence, and had c
hosen as the teacher andcompanion of the wife who was dearer than his own existence.
Some cruel misunderstanding, some pitiable mistake must have been atwork here, and he came upon the right trail speedily enough.
The hapless knight loved Barbara, and had taken him, Luis, for herbetrayer and nocturnal visitor.
Fatal error of the Emperor, whose lamentable consequences were alreadybeginning!
With sincere repentance for his needlessly violent act of defence, hebent over the severely injured man. His heart was still beating, butdoubtless on account of the great loss of blood--it throbbed withalarming weakness. Don Luis also soon found a wound in the skull, whichappeared to be fractured.
If speedy aid was not rendered, the unfortunate man was lost.
Quijada laid Wolf's head quickly and carefully on his cloak, which heplaced in a roll beneath it, and then hurried to the Red Cock, whereone servant was just opening the door and another was leading out twohorses. The latter was Jan, Wolf's Netherland servant, who wanted towater the animals before starting on the journey.
He instantly recognised the nobleman; but the latter had resolved tokeep the poor musician's attack a secret.
As Jan bowed respectfully to him, he ordered him and the servant of theRed Cock to leave everything and follow him. He had found a dead man inthe street.
A few minutes after the three were standing at the steps of the house,before the object of their solicitude.
The groom of the Red Cock, who still held a lantern in his hand, thoughdawn was already beginning to glimmer faintly in the east, threw thelight upon the face of the bleeding form, and Jan exclaimed in grief andterror that the injured man was his master.
The Brabant lad wailed, and the German, who had known the "precentorcavalier" all his life, joined in the lamentation; but Quijada inducedthem both to think only of saving the wounded nobleman.
The old groom, with savage imprecations upon the scoundrels who nowinfested their quiet streets, raised the wounded man's head and toldJan to lift his feet. Both were familiar with the house, and, whilethe servants bore Wolf up the narrow stairs, the proud Spanish grandeelighted their way with the lantern, supporting the wounded man's injuredhead, with his free hand. At the door of the young knight's rooms hetold the servants to attend to his needs, and then hurried back to theGolden Cross.
He found a great bustle prevailing there. Tilted wagons were beingloaded with the regent's luggage, couriers and servants were rushing toand fro, and in the courtyard men were currying the horses which were tobe ridden on the journey.
Don Luis paid no heed to all this, hastening first to the chapel toask a young German chaplain to administer the sacrament to Sir WolfHartschwert, to whose house he hurriedly directed him. Then goingswiftly to the third story, he waked Dr. Mathys, the Emperor's leech.
The portly physician rubbed his eyes angrily; but as soon as he learnedfor whom he was wanted and how serious was the injury, he showed themost praiseworthy haste and, with the attendant who carried his surgicalinstruments and medicines, was standing beside the sufferer's couchalmost as soon as the wounded man.
The result of his examination was anything but gratifying.
He would gladly do all that his skill would permit for the knight, butin so serious a fracture of the skull only the special mercy of Heavencould preserve life.
Dr. Doll, the best physician in Ratisbon, assisted him with thebandaging, and old Ursel had suddenly recovered her lost strength.
When the maid-servant asked timidly if she should not call Wawerl downfrom upstairs, she shrugged her shoulders with a movement which theone-eyed girl understood, and which signified anything but acceptance ofthe proposal.
Yet Barbara would perhaps have rendered most efficacious assistance.
True, she was still sleeping the sound slumber of wearied youth.Directly after her return from her imperial lover, she had gone to restin the little chamber behind the bow-windowed room. It looked out uponthe courtyard, and was protected from the noise of the street. When sheheard sounds in the house, she thought that old Ursel was ill and theywere summoning the doctor. For a moment she felt an impulse to riseand go downstairs, but she did not like to leave her warm bed, and Wolfwould manage without her. She had always lacked patience to wait uponthe sick, and Ursel had grown so harsh and disagreeable since shejoined the Protestants. Finally, Barbara had brought home exquisiterecollections of her illustrious lover, which must not be clouded by thesuffering of the old woman, whom, besides, she could rarely please.
She did not learn what had happened until she went to mass, and thenit weighed heavily upon her heart that she had not given Wolf herassistance, especially as she suspected, with strange certainty, thatshe herself was connected with this terrible misfortune.
Now--ah, how gladly!--she would have helped Ursel with the nursing, butshe forbade her to enter the sick-room. The most absolute quiet mustreign there. No one was permitted to cross the threshold except herselfand an elderly nun, whom the Clares had sent for the sake of the woundedman's dead mother. A Dominican also soon came, whom the old woman couldnot shut out because he was despatched by the Queen of Hungary, and theviolinist Massi, whom she gladly welcomed as a good friend of her Wolf.He proved himself loyal, and devoted every leisure hour of the nightto the sufferer. Barbara knocked at the door very often, but Urselpersisted in refusing admittance. She knew that the girl had rejectedher darling's proposal, and it was a satisfaction to her when, towardnoon, the former told her that she was about to leave the house to go toPrebrunn.
A cart would convey her luggage, but it would be only lightly laden.Fran Lerch went with the baggage.
An hour later Barbara herself moved into the little castle, which hadbeen refurnished for her. Mounted upon a spirited bay horse from herPrebrunn stables, she rode beside the Marquise de Leria's huge litter toher new home.
