Princess Isabella, too, was not enjoying a very happy time of it. For
six days she did not see a human being save her maid and Fräulein von
Martigny. That old lady was preaching repentance in every possible key
and tune; Isabella did not listen. In these sermons Count Vierstein
was not mentioned as often as he should have been, but the old lady
continued to remark at frequent intervals that he would come the
following Sunday without fail. Isabella was silent. The readings from
the French classics were three times as long as usual; Isabella did not
notice it. She only thought and thought of all the suffering she had
endured in this stupid castle from her childhood on. She determined to
get away from it at any cost. Yet she did not know where to go.
Saturday night had come. Fräulein was just reading in Boileau’s tenth
epistle: “In vain do I stop you; my remonstrance is vain--go, depart!”
when a distant, dull thunder shook the air, rattling all the windows.
The old lady was startled, but kept on reading all the louder; she
knew, it seemed, what the noise meant, and was trying to divert her
prisoner’s attention. But it was not necessary: Isabella was so deep in
thought that she had no more heard the report than she had the verses
of Boileau.
It soon grew dark, and every one went to bed early, as usual. Isabella
slept very little; at four o’clock the bright sunshine awakened her
again. It was the Sunday at last on which the Count was to appear. She
looked through the open window out over the dewy landscape; her eyes
sought the distant castle, the only object which she ever watched with
interest, often with tears in her eyes; but, oh, horrible! the castle
had only one tower left! At first the Princess thought that the sun,
shining into her face, had caused an optical illusion. She ran for her
spyglass; then she recognized the sad truth: the castle had now but one
tower, the other, the Hasen Tower, had been blown up last night when
that dull report made the windows rattle.
Isabella was beside herself with grief and anger. She had firmly
believed that her father would show mercy to the castle, if only to
please her, and she hoped that such a sign of his love might lead to a
reconciliation and help her to begin a new life in her father’s house,
one more worthy of living. Such had been her thoughts during rare and
more hopeful hours. And every day she had been looking upon the still
intact castle as a promise of the future; but now, to-day, the first
tower had fallen, her father remained unmoved, and--the Count was
coming! She dressed herself, threw a shawl over her head, and stole on
tiptoe from the room, down the staircase into the castle-yard. No one
noticed her at this early hour. A small gate stood open; she hurried
out, not knowing what she was doing or whither she was going; at least,
she had once more willed something and done something. The fresh air
was inspiring, and her spirits felt uplifted on the wings of the
morning wind.
Instinctively she walked in the direction of the castle, at first
hurrying like a fugitive, but soon moderating her pace, for, though no
one recognized her, still she was attracting the attention of the few
people she happened to meet. At last she asked herself, where would she
go? Her resolution was quickly formed: to Neideck. And what then? She
did not know. But once up in the castle, she would be far away from her
own home, and for the present that was enough.
Not accustomed, however to such long tramps, she soon grew tired, her
knees shook, her eyes filled with tears; but even then she did not give
up, and two hours later arrived at Neideck, where in the castle-yard
she fell to the ground, completely exhausted. It grew dark before
her eyes; she heard the ringing of the church-bells, the humming of
bees; she noticed the fragrance of the elder blossoms, but she did not
realize where she was, and lay as in a dream.
A voice roused her. Some one asked anxiously: “What is the matter,
young woman?” She looked up. A young man in traveling clothes, with
boots and spurs, stood before her, looking at her kindly. She did not
answer, but searched him sharply with her eyes; there was something
familiar in his face, but she could not remember where she had seen it.
“What are you doing here so early in the morning?” he asked.
“I am looking for the schoolmaster,” stammered Isabella. It was all she
could think of.
“I am looking for him, too,” remarked the young man. “This Burg Balzer
is certainly a remarkable man: something of a fool, no doubt, like all
original people. But he no longer lives here; he has been dismissed
and sent away, as one of the peasants told me; sent away because he
conducted himself very improperly toward the Princess Isabella.”
“That is not true!” said Isabella. “At least, not as far as the
Princess is concerned.”
“Oh, yes,” the stranger assured her. “There is no joking with this
Isabella; she _is_ such a bore!”
“Perhaps she is more bored than boring,” replied Isabella.
The stranger looked at her attentively. “Who are you, I wonder, that
you know so much about this? Perhaps a lady’s maid from the castle?”
She stammered timidly: “Yes.” She had learned so little, did not know
how to tell even a lie.
“Well, if that is so, I wish you would tell me a little about your
mistress. I heard that she was quite a nice-looking puppet, pulled by a
string, either by her father or her lady-in-waiting. Is she not going
to marry Count Vierstein in the near future?”
“She is not quite such a puppet as you think!” cried Isabella, very
indignantly, and in quite another tone. “The string is broken; she is
_not_ going to marry this wild Count, not under any circumstances!”
“Oh, oh! Is the Count really so wild? And how do you know that?”
“He lives only among hunters, horses, dogs, and soldiers, and roams the
woods all day long!”
“So, so! And why are you roaming through old castles all alone, my
highly virtuous young woman?”
“I? Oh, I wished to see the schoolmaster and the--the tower that was
blown up yesterday,” Isabella answered, very much embarrassed.
“Well, I intended to see the tower too; the schoolmaster’s book
interested me--”
“Have you read his book? That was the reason _I_ came here,”
interrupted Isabella.
“It is an absurd book,” the stranger went on. “But the man’s feeling
for his castle is true and strong. After reading his book you feel
drawn toward this place, whether you wish to come or not.”
“That is just what happened to me,” whispered the Princess.
“There is a sentimental maid for you,” thought the stranger. “They are
becoming very frequent in our philosophical century.”
“That young man has a good heart and clear head,” thought Isabella. As
far back as she could remember he was the first person who had ever
shown her any sympathy.
“Oh, see here,” he suddenly broke out aloud and straightened himself.
“I can not play a part. I am Count Vierstein, whom you called ‘the
wild Count.’ And if I do roam about in God’s nature all day long, I
get more joy and pleasure out of it than do your pale people who live
indoors. I can see the sun rising here from this enchanted castle, as
I did to-day--and--I am furious at the people over there in Westerau
who, without further ado, are barbarous enough to blow up the home of
their ancestors. You may tell your mistress so; I shall see her myself
to-day, but shall not have much to say to her, certainly nothing about
this.”
For a while Isabella stood speechless with terror. But the Count did
not look at all wicked; in fact, he was quite handsome; and not nearly
so ill-mannered as Fräulein von Martigny had described him; on the
contrary, he seemed to her kind and very tactful. This consideration
lessened her terror. Should she tell him? But shame closed her lips.
Finally she controlled herself and whispered: “Are you really on the
way to Westerau? Several times you have been expected there, but always
in vain.”
“Well, it is a rough road, this journey after a bride!” the Count
sighed. “However, I must go through with it; my father wishes it,
and children must obey their parents, so says the Bible. But there is
a limit to our obedience; I will go to Westerau and do all that is
necessary and proper, but if I then dislike this Princess as much as I
do from a distance--and I have little doubt of that--and if she herself
intends to give me, as you say, a very decided refusal--then I can
ride back home with a light and happy heart, having done my duty. My
attendants are awaiting me down in the village. It is too early to make
a call, and I wish once more to breathe freely here in Burg Balzer’s
incomparable castle before I start on the rough road I have to travel.
There, now, you know my whole history!”
Isabella drew the shawl closer over her head and looked out into the
valley. She saw there a group of horsemen, followed by a carriage;
the horsemen were galloping toward the castle, and in the lead, as
they came nearer, she recognized her father. With an imploring cry she
turned to the Count: “Save me! That is my father there, the Prince! I
am Isabella. Save me, protect me from my father. Do not let them take
me back into that hateful castle; it would kill me!”
The Count was covered with surprise. “You are really Isabella, my dear
cousin? But you don’t look at all like your pictures, and your speech
is quite different from your letters. But why are you so afraid of your
father. Did you run away from him?”
“Yes, because he tried to make me marry--you!”
“Well,” thought the Count, “she at least has a will of her own, and
wishes to refuse me in her own way.”
“But not only on that account am I afraid,” the Princess continued,
“but because I was shut into my room as punishment for wishing to save
the castle and for taking the schoolmaster to my father on my own
responsibility!”
“On your own responsibility?” the Count repeated very cheerfully. “Then
you _did_ run away after all?” Isabella did not answer. “Why did you
not run away long ago? We would have known each other so much sooner.
And, and--are you often so excited as you are to-day?”
“Oh, no; that is only here in Neideck; below, in the castle, it is very
different.”
“You see,” said the Count, “it is the bracing air that does it! You
must be out of doors more, ride horseback, go hunting; then you will
get rosy cheeks! By the way, the air in Vierstein is much better than
it is down there in Westerau!”
But the poor girl only kept on imploring, “My father! Save me!” All at
once they heard a voice whisper, “Quick, come here, this is the best
hiding-place you can find! I wished to keep it a secret from every one,
but to save the gracious Princess I gladly sacrifice my secret, my
head, everything! Come here, the entrance is not far away.”
The Count turned and saw a strange figure, that would have made him
laugh if he had not been provoked. “What does the fellow mean?”
“Pardon me, sir, I am Burg Balzer, whom you came to see. Sitting under
the elder-bush here, I could not help hearing the whole conversation.
I beg you to forgive me! But come, waste no more time!”
“My dear friend,” answered the Count coolly, “we will look at your
vault some other time; on the contrary, you had better come over here,
where I can protect both of you. I am not used to hiding.”
The Prince rode into the castle yard; his foaming horse reared in front
of the group: Count Vierstein in the middle, at his right the Princess,
at his left Burg Balzer.
At first the Prince did not recognize the Count; then answering the
latter’s bow, he exchanged a few words with him, surprised at meeting
him here and under such circumstances. After a while the Prince turned
to Isabella: “Come here, you shameless girl!” And then to the Count:
“Unheard-of things have happened, cousin! And before I do my duty as
host, I must do my duty as father. Down there at the foot of the hill
a carriage is awaiting you, Isabella; the curtains are closely drawn.
You will step into the carriage; Fräulein von Martigny is expecting
you; everything is so arranged that you can drive home and reach your
room without being seen. A Princess of Westerau, who ran away! Who ever
heard of such a thing in the whole history of our family!”
Firmly, though very respectfully, Count Vierstein came forward.
“Forgive me, most gracious prince and cousin, if I do not give up the
Princess to you; at least, not against her will. She has placed herself
under my protection, and as a man of honor I must grant it to her.”
The Prince was astounded completely. What! Isabella had placed herself
under the Count’s protection, and at the same time had run away only to
escape the Count.
Burg Balzer, taking advantage of his bewilderment, pressed forward,
forgot his fear of horses, until almost touching that of the Prince,
and begged for mercy toward his castle. For answer the Prince called to
his outrider: “Drive this fool down the mountain with your whip!”
Again the Count interceded: “This man, too, is under my protection, and
I beg your Highness to leave him to me for the present!”
“My dear cousin,” laughed the Prince angrily, “do you claim sovereign
rights over my family and my subjects? Perhaps I am no longer master
here on my own soil!”
“Indeed,” answered the Count, “I would be very much pleased if you
would place that, too, under my protection! The castle would be a
perfect gem in my dear cousin’s dowry, and I am beginning to hope that
she may not repulse this wild fellow when once she comes to know him
better!”
“What! Courting and marriage contract here in the open road?
Preposterous!” said the Prince. But all at once he seemed to be in the
best of humors. Burg Balzer pulled the Count’s sleeve and whispered
mysteriously: “I have discovered the most beautiful place for the
wedding ceremony; it is right here under our feet.” Even the Prince was
listening now. “While I was in hiding, and having nothing else to do,
I succeeded in clearing out the rubbish from the passageway, and oh,
joy! I found a beautiful crypt under the old chapel. For centuries it
had been buried underneath, and it has three heavy antique columns, the
capitals of which are ornamented with eagles and lions--”
“A wedding in the cellar? Preposterous!” interrupted the Prince.
“You are a fool, schoolmaster! There! I have called you by mistake
‘schoolmaster’; you may be one again! A man’s word is as good as his
bond!”
As this did not seem the proper place for further discussion, the
Prince decided to lead his daughter to the carriage and to accompany
her with his attendants to the castle. The Count was to stay here about
two hours longer--perhaps visit the crypt--in order to give the people
in Westerau time to prepare a reception with all honors. Everything
else could then be arranged in proper form.
* * * * *
Four weeks later the schoolmaster, who had received by decree the
additional dignity of castellan in Neideck, ordered ten men to come
to the castle yard and raise from the well the old cannon that had
been buried there since 1757. After three days’ labor they succeeded
in dragging it out and hoisting it into its old place near the castle
gate, ready to salute at the wedding of Princess Isabella and her
cousin Frederick, which was to take place the following day in the
chapel of Castle Westerau.
While Balzer was leaning against the cannon, in a very comfortable and
contemplative frame of mind, the inspector came up the mountain, put
his hand on the schoolmaster’s shoulder, and said: “Well, schoolmaster,
what about your prophecy of the lady of high rank who was to save the
castle? It seems to me the Princess did _not_ do it after all, and the
Count did. And who are the men that have been put to shame?”
Philip replied: “Count or countess, it does not matter, so long as
the castle is saved! But it is a pity they did not let that tower
stand one day longer; it could have lasted a thousand years to come.
Prophecies never are fulfilled to the letter, or people would all be
superstitious. With regard to the humiliated men--well, what about the
steward and the Prince himself? Only one must not even think of that,
far less say so. After all, we can see in all this again how a just
power guides the fate of men as well as of castles. Neideck has always
been a good, true stronghold: in its first youth it was the cradle
of our ruling family; in the prime of its existence it was a place
of refuge for all around; now it has grown old and has retired into
private life. But even so it has given to our Princess an excellent
husband, and to a poor schoolmaster the prospect of a happy old age.
May it prosper for many years to come.”