the instant he felt a tighter pressure of the hand about his throat,
and the daggers pricked him in the region of the heart.
"Still!" whispered one of the masks. "A loud word, a cry for help,
sends you in the same moment to hell. We are here to sit in judgment on
you, though, indeed, in a fairer way than your father used three years
since. It has cost no little time, and trouble, and gold--nay, even two
journies to Bohemia--to penetrate your tricks and blinds; but at last
all has become clearer to us than the day. We had paid you a visit long
before this, but that the noble Althea prayed so irresistibly for you,
that during her life we could not undertake any thing against you. Now
at last she has sunk under the grief for her betrothed: Tausdorf's old
father has to weep for his daughter, and the last chain is snapped in
which our revenge lay bound. Your father has to answer to the emperor
for his notorious crimes; but you have done and concealed your deed
with equal cunning, and no earthly court of justice will ever be able
to convict you of it. You must, therefore, answer to our _secret
tribunal_, of which we are ourselves the chief and the judges, the
accuser and the executioner. You have had intercourse with the
Netherlandress at the nurseryman's in the park; and this very woman
wanted to hound me on to your brother's murder."
"By Heavens! I know nothing of it," whined Christopher.
"Still!" continued the mask. "Failing in that, she has a long
conversation with you in private. Upon this you invite Tausdorf to your
murderous banquet, and, while you promise Althea that your brother
shall not be present, you secretly induce him, through a third hand, to
appear: then comes the Netherlandress, masked, to your party. After a
conversation with her, the most violent wrath is perceived on the face
of Francis. You pour him out another glass of wine, like oil in the
flame, upon which he allures into the park Tausdorf, whom he had never
seen before, and that event takes place which thousands of honest
people lament. Now then answer for yourself, but with a low voice, or
we strike you down on the spot."
"How can I answer for all the unlucky events, the chain of which has
cost me a beloved brother?" whispered Christopher, in a voice which,
from fear of the daggers, was scarcely audible. "What motives could I
have to destroy Tausdorf, who had never offended me? Why, too, should I
particularly fix on my brother as the instrument of my evil purpose? By
the----"
"Still!" said the mask again. "I hate you as the serpent that stung my
friend to death, but I would not send you to the devil with perjury
upon your tongue; you have without that enough of old sin posted in the
great reckoning-book above.--You ask, why you should wish to destroy
Tausdorf? Because Althea refused your hand for his sake.--Why you chose
your brother for the instrument? Because, with true brotherly
affection, you hoped the instrument might be broken on the occasion,
that so you might stand as the ONLY son of the rich Erasmus. Recollect
your former calumnies against Tausdorf; recollect what you said to
Althea at your father's door on the morning after the misfortune, and
deny no longer. You will not lie yourself out of our hands again, and a
frank repentant confession of your sins may propitiate the wrath of the
judge before whom you will stand ere the morning breaks."
"Mercy!" murmured Christopher in low, piteous tones. "Only spare my
life, and I will confess all. The woman seduced me into bringing
Tausdorf together with my brother that they might quarrel, but it was
not so evilly intended as it turned out."
"The woman seduced you?" exclaimed the mask. "It was so our
grandfather, Adam, excused himself, and the seducer laid it all upon
the serpent; but the angel with the fiery sword drove them all out of
Paradise, to which they no more belonged, as you no more belong to
life. Therefore pray a short farewell prayer, for we are Christians."
"Mercy!" groaned Christopher piteously. "I cannot pray. Take half my
wealth as an atonement, but do not kill me."
"Ay!" retorted the mask, with cold sternness. "You and your whole race,
with all your gold, would not outweigh the single head of the noble
Tausdorf, whom your iniquity has slaughtered. There can be no talk
between us of mercy or atonement, but of well-earned retribution:
therefore, away with you, scoundrel! away to death!"
And he flung a noose about Christopher's neck, and dragged him from the
bed.
"Heaven be thanked!" said the other mask, pulling strongly at the rope.
"At last we come from words to deeds."
Like vultures upon a lamb, they pounced upon the unhappy Christopher
with murderous hands, and dragged him out of the door in spite of his
impotent strugglings;--fainter and fainter sounded his half-stifled
cries--at last there was a heavy fall in the distance, and a sound as
of the splash of water from a depth: then another short, low groan; and
the old silence of night resumed her reign, and the clock of the
Sessions-house struck the third hour.
* * * * *
The next morning when the old Erasmus entered the Sessions-chamber, he
found the assembled provosts standing with gloomy faces about the
butcher, George Heymann, master of the shambles, who was showing a
bloody wound in his neck, and took on most piteously.
"Things cannot go on in this way any longer, Mr. Burgomaster," cried
the Alderman Kaspar Franz, in a tone that the old man had not been
accustomed to hear in Schweidnitz. "It is inconceivable what our good
city suffers from your violence and blunders. It is not enough that we
must frequently submit to a scarcity of provisions, because the vassals
of the nobles no longer dare to come to market here, but our citizens
are no more secure of their lives if they venture beyond the walls. As
this poor man was driving sheep to town, Hans Ecke of Viehau, and Hans
Hund of Ingersdorf, fell upon him with naked weapons, struck at his
neck, and when he stood on his defence, wounded him severely with a
dagger. In this manner things go on daily; they already level their
guns at our watchmen upon the walls, and we shall soon be forced to put
on armour when we go to the sessions-house. For all this evil we have
to thank no one but you; and do you, therefore, find a remedy. You have
cooked this bitter broth for us, and do you now help in eating it, that
we may at last have clean dishes."
"Lead the wounded man to the nearest surgeon," said Erasmus to the
servant in waiting. "He shall be dressed at my expense."
The servant obeyed. The burgomaster crept up to his seat of honour, and
sat himself down exhausted, as he turned to the last speaker.--"It is
hard of you, colleague, to lay to my charge the consequences of
measures which were adopted by the general consent of the council.
Besides, the affair is not yet settled, and your reproaches, therefore,
in any case, are too early. If the emperor should receive our answer as
valid, we shall then assuredly not be denied satisfaction for the
waylayings of these knightly robbers. From Ingolstadt, too, the legal
opinion has been sent in reply to our inquiries, that we proceeded well
with Tausdorf, and I still, therefore, entertain good hopes."
"If these hopes should not happen to be built on sand," exclaimed
Alderman Franz; "the Emperor will hardly decide on us by the opinion of
the gentlemen of Ingolstadt. The whole investigation was of so hostile
a nature, and so humiliating in the forms for us, that we may thence
infer a severe sentence with tolerable certainty. Besides, I have heard
a bird whistle on this subject, whose tune by no means pleases me."
The burgomaster stared in alarm at his colleague, when the door opened,
and the servant announced, "The delegates returning from Prague."
"Returned already!" exclaimed Erasmus, and the last blood-drops forsook
his face, so that he looked quite awful, like the alabaster-bust of
some evil old Roman emperor.
And the old Christopher Drescher, the Alderman Melchior Lange, the
Syndic Dr. Lange, entered slowly, with downcast eyes, and in silence
took their places at the sessions-table. They were followed by the
Secretary Jonas, who, with a heavy sigh, laid down his leathern
portfolio on a side-table and opened it.
"You bring us nothing good?" asked Erasmus, after a long pause; and
the Syndic exclaimed, "What is the use of delaying, for you must know
it at last? You sowed the seed by handfuls, and therefore the harvest
cannot much surprise you. The wrath of Heaven lies heavy on us; the
sentence could not be more severe. The city is declared to have
forfeited its right of jurisdiction, and of electing its own council,
the fief and land-court of the principality is removed to Jauer, and
the punishment of the council, and others, for the execution of
Tausdorf, the Emperor has reserved to himself peculiarly. In a short
time we may expect the Emperor's delegate, who, in his name, will
annul our council, and conduct the further proceedings against us."
In silence they listened to these evil tidings, in silence they
remained sitting, when the Syndic had ceased to speak, all equally
overwhelmed by the heavy fate that was hurrying upon them. Their eyes
only, which were fixed on the burgomaster, expressed the reproaches
they intended him. In the meantime the secretary had drawn from his
portfolio the imperial decree, and taking it from its double envelope,
now laid it with a condoling gesture on the table before Erasmus, who
first glanced hastily below at the Emperor's seal and subscription, and
then attempted to read. But he could not accomplish it; he still
gazed on the first side, and soon his eyes stared vacantly from the
paper on the air. The Vice-Consul was on the point of wakening him from
this lethargy of the spirit, when the city-marshal rushed into the room
with a face of horror. And now Erasmus started up from his
stupefaction.--"Another Job's post," he exclaimed; "I read it in your
countenance: but speak it out; we have already heard the worst; what is
still to come cannot much affect us."
"Would to heaven it were so!" replied the bailiff. "My tidings concern
you in particular, Mr. Burgomaster. Your son Christopher has been found
dead in his night-clothes, in the well of his garden."
A cry of horror burst from the lips of all present, and the old Erasmus
clasped his long thin hands.--"My last!" he exclaimed piteously--then
suddenly, in a louder voice, he added, "Thou art just, O God!" and his
head, with its silver locks, fell back, so that it hung over the elbow
of his chair.
The council crowded about him in terror. The vice-consul looked at the
old man's broken eyes, felt his pulse, and cried with deep emotion, "He
is dead!"
"He who does not walk in fear, does not please God!" cried Caspar, in
his dark fanaticism, with the words of Sirach.
"De mortuis nil nisi bene, collega," admonished the vice-consul. "The
deceased, with all his failings, was yet a MAN, in the full sense of
the word, and therefore always estimable. If he has erred, he has
severely suffered. Peace be with his ashes!"
He went to the head of the corse, and folded his hands in prayer. The
others stood around and did the same; and from every lip trembled a low
and devout supplication for the dead.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: The title of Prince Palatine is far from being a correct
translation of the original, for which, indeed, we have no
corresponding phrase, the political organization of this country
supplying no corresponding authority. In such a dilemma nothing is left
to a translator but to choose between two evils; either to retain the
original term, or to adopt from his own language any word that may
convey something of a similar idea. Perhaps I have been wrong in my
choice.--Certamen est de paupere regno.]
[Footnote 2: This German dance is the Waltz, though it certainly has no
claim to the title, being neither more nor less than the English
Lavolta, so constantly referred to by the old dramatists. But our
German neighbours are remarkable for the organ of appropriation, and
not less so for the organ of impudence. The one leads them to steal,
and the other to deny or abuse articles stolen. There is a very pretty
instance of this in Kotzebue, who cut down the comedy of the Jealous
Wife into a farce, and protested that the other three acts were good
for nothing.]
[Footnote 3: The _Carolina_ is a criminal law published by Charles the
Fifth, called Lex Carolina, or simply as here _Carolina_.]
[Footnote 4: The reader must forgive me the coining of a very useful
word, which will be easily understood by reference to the Latin
_inquilinus_.]
END OF VOL. I.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS.