DER STOCK IM EISEN
THAT evening, after a hearty dinner, the children called for the story
of Der Stock im Eisen. And so Herr Müller began:
"Many hundreds of years ago, in the old square known as the
Horsemarket, lived Vienna's most skilful master-locksmith, Herr Erhanrd
Marbacher. Next door to him, stood a baker-shop owned by the Widow Mux.
The widow and Herr Marbacher were good neighbors, and were fond of
chatting together outside the doors of their homes, as the evening came
on; Herr Marbacher smoking his long, quaintly-painted pipe, and the
Widow Mux relating the sprightly anecdotes of the day.
"But, one evening, Herr Marbacher found the widow in great distress;
as she usually wore a merry smile upon her jolly face this change in
temperament greatly affected the spirits of the locksmith, and he
demanded the cause of her unhappiness. With tears in her eyes, the
widow confided to her neighbor the dreadful fact that her younger son,
Martin, a worthless, idle fellow, had refused to do any work about the
shop, and had even used harsh words.
"'Sometimes it happens,' suggested the master-locksmith, 'that a lad
does not take to his forced employment; it may be that Martin is not
cut out for a baker; let me have a hand with him; perhaps he will make
a first-rate locksmith.'
"'A locksmith!' exclaimed the widow in astonishment. 'How can he become
a locksmith, with its attendant hard work, when he will not even run
errands for the baker-shop! No, Herr Marbacher, you are very kind to
suggest it, and try to help me out of my trouble, but Martin would
never consent to become a locksmith's apprentice. He is downright lazy.'
"'Well, you might let me have a trial with him,' said the locksmith; 'I
am loved by all my workmen, yet they fear me, too; they do good work
under my direction, and I am proud of my apprentices. Martin, I am
certain, would also obey me.'
"'Well, have your way, good neighbor,' replied the widow, 'I can only
hope for the best.'
"Evidently Herr Marbacher knew human nature better than the
widow, for Martin was delighted with the prospect of becoming
an apprentice-locksmith, with the hope of earning the degree of
master-locksmith, like Herr Marbacher, and he worked hard and long to
please his master. His mother was overjoyed at the change in the lad,
and Herr Marbacher himself was very well pleased.
"Now, it chanced that some little time after Martin's apprenticeship,
Herr Marbacher handed him a tin pail and directed him to a certain
spot on the edge of the forest, without the city walls, where he should
gather clay with which to mould a certain form, for which he had had
an order. As the commission was a particular one, and somewhat out of
the ordinary, it required a peculiar sort of clay which was only to be
found in this particular spot.
"With light heart, and whistling a merry tune, Martin, swinging his
tin pail, set out upon his errand. The day was perfect; Spring was
just beginning; the trees were clothed in their fresh greenness, light
clouds flitted across a marvelously blue sky, the birds twittered
noisily in the treetops and Martin caught the Spring fever; he fairly
bounded over the green fields, and reached the forest in a wonderfully
short time.
"Having filled his pail, he started homewards. But, instead of keeping
to the path by which he had come, he crossed through the meadows,
his heart as light as ever. Suddenly he espied through the trees
figures of men or boys; then voices came to his ears; he stopped and
listened. Boy-like, he was unable to resist the temptation--the lure
of the Spring--so he changed his course and made toward the bowlers,
his old-time cronies, who were engaged in their old-time sport. Slower
moved his feet,--his conscience prompted him in vain--he forgot the
admonition of his master not to loiter on the way, for fear the city
gates would be shut at the ringing of the curfew; he forgot all about
the time of day, and that it was now well on toward evening. The fever
of the Spring had gotten into his veins; Martin paused, set down his
bucket of clay, and, picking up a bowl, joined in the sport of his
comrades.
[Illustration: "'CHEER UP, MY LAD,' SAID THE STRANGER."]
"Suddenly the curfew bell reached his ears; he recalled his errand,
the warning of his master, and his heart stopped still in fright. He
dropped the bowl in his hands, grasped his bucket of clay, and ran
with beating heart toward the city gate, but he was too late; the gate
was closed and the gate-keeper either would not or could not hear his
call.
"Fear now seized Martin, in very truth. The woods about the city were
infested with robbers and dangerous men; there was no way in which to
protect himself; yet he had nothing about him which any one would care
to have, and that thought gave him some comfort. As he was planning how
he might get within the walls, a tall man dressed in scarlet feathered
cap and a long black velvet cloak upon his shoulders, stood before him.
"'Cheer up, my lad,' said the stranger. 'What is the use of crying?'
"'But I am locked out for the night,' replied Martin.
"'That is nothing to fret about,' answered the tall man. 'Here is some
gold. Take it, it will open the gate for you.'
"'Oh, thank you,' said Martin, overjoyed. Then he hesitated. 'But I
shall never be able to repay you,' he added. 'I have never seen so much
gold.'
"'Oh, do not fret yourself about repaying me,' answered the stranger.
'I have plenty of gold, and do not need the little I have given you.
Still, if you are really anxious to repay me, you might give me your
soul when you have finished with it.'
"'My soul?' cried the boy aghast. 'I can't give it to you. One cannot
sell his soul?'
"'Oh, yes,' replied the malicious stranger, smiling grimly, 'many
people do sell their souls; but you need not give it me until you are
dead.'
"'Much good would it do you then,' replied Martin; 'I cannot see what
you would want with it after I am dead?'
"'That is the bargain,' retorted the tall man. And he made as if to
move away and leave Martin to his fate.
"'Oh, very well,' said Martin, fearing to throw away this chance for
deliverance. 'I will take your gold, and you may have my soul when I
have finished with it; the bargain is made.'
"'And I shall be lenient with you,' continued the stranger. 'I will
give you a chance to redeem your soul.'
"'You will?' exclaimed Martin in delight. 'And how?'
"'Only this, if you forget to attend divine service even once, during
all the rest of your days, then shall I claim my bargain. Now, am I not
fair?'
"Martin was very glad to be released, even with this proviso, and
laughed as he moved away, for Martin had been brought up religiously by
a pious mother, and he knew he should not forget his Sabbath duty.
"As the stranger had said, the gold gained entrance for Martin Mux
through the closed city gate, and he straightway made his way to his
room and to bed before his master should discover his absence.
* * * * *
"Some days later, as the apprentices were hard at work in the shop
under the scrutinizing eye of Herr Marbacher, a tall man in a black
velvet cloak and a red plumed cap, stood in the doorway. Martin
recognized his erstwhile friend and feared he knew not what. But the
stranger had come to order an iron hoop with padlock so intricate that
it could not be unlocked.
"Herr Marbacher hesitated; the order was certainly unusual, and even
he, the master-locksmith of Vienna, was uncertain whether he could
accomplish such a commission. But, seeing Marbacher's hesitation, the
stranger cast his glance about the shop full of young apprentices, and
fixing his regard upon Martin, he said, in a loud voice:
"'Among all these workmen, is there not one who can make the lock?'
"Whether impelled by fear, or feeling that having assisted him once,
the devil would assist him yet a second time, Martin spoke out,
"'I will do it.'
"All eyes turned toward the young apprentice.
"'You?' cried Marbacher, and he laughed very loud and very long, so
excellent did he consider the joke. 'You? You are my very youngest
apprentice.'
"'Let him try,' suggested the stranger warily, fearing the master
would deny Martin the privilege. 'Who knows what he may be able to
accomplish?'
"And so it was agreed.
"Martin worked all that day until the evening shadows compelled him
to quit his work. He racked his brain; he thought and thought; yet
no lock could he imagine which could not be unlocked. He carried his
paper and pencil to his room with him, thinking that in the stillness
of the night he might think of some design. But, although he worked
conscientiously, no ideas came to him, and he fell asleep. With visions
of locks and bolts and bars in his head, it was no wonder that Martin
dreamed of robbers' castles and dungeons and locks and bolts. He
dreamed about a mighty robber in a fortress-castle; he was a prisoner
there, he, Martin; but what his crime he did not know. He rushed toward
the door to make his escape; it was locked; he tried to undo it, but
in vain; then he looked about him, and the room seemed filled with
padlocks, some small, some large, some handsomely wrought, some very
simple; but among them he found one that looked like a huge spider. It
interested him so much that he took out his pencil and mechanically
reproduced it; then he felt himself sinking, sinking, down, down. With
a start he awoke, he had tossed himself out of bed and lay sprawling
upon the floor of his room. Rather piqued, Martin picked himself up and
jumped into bed. But there upon his pillow lay a drawing. He examined
it by the feeble rays of the candle, which was still burning; it was
the design of the spider lock he had seen in the robber's castle in his
dream.
"Impatient for the morning, Martin was at his bench early working upon
the design of the lock; and when the end of the sixth day arrived, the
time appointed by the stranger for the delivery of the work, Martin had
the lock completed. Evidently it proved entirely satisfactory to the
stranger, for he paid Marbacher the money agreed upon, and left the
shop.
"At the corner of the square he stopped before the larch-tree, bound
the iron hoop about the tree, locked it, put the key in his pocket and
disappeared.
* * * * *
"Time passed. Martin, for some inexplicable reason, had left Vienna and
gone to the city of Nuremburg where he continued in his profession.
But, one day, he heard that the Burgomaster of Vienna had offered the
title of master-locksmith to the one who would make a key which would
unlock the iron hoop about the larch-tree. It was a small task for
Martin to make a duplicate of the key he had once made, and with it in
his pocket he travelled to Vienna and presented it to the Burgomaster.
"It was a great holiday when the hoop was to be unbound. Dressed in
robes of state, glistening all over with gold thread and medals, the
Burgomaster and the City Fathers gathered in the Horsemarket, where
stood the Stock im Eisen; the lock was unfastened and Martin was
created a master-locksmith, much to the joy of his mother and to the
overwhelming pride of his former master, Herr Marbacher.
"But, although Martin Mux had now acquired fortune and fame, he was far
from being happy. His bargain with the devil haunted him; day and night
it was with him, for he feared Sunday morning might come and he would
forget to attend Mass. And then he would be irretrievably lost. What
would he not give to be able to recall his bargain. He enjoyed no peace
of mind; at his bench he thought ever of the dreaded day when he must
pay; he could no longer work; he must not think; he joined his old-time
idle companions; hour after hour was spent in gambling; night after
night he frittered his wealth away; the more he lost the more desperate
he became; poor Martin Mux was paying dearly for his game of bowls and
his disobedience to his master.
"One Saturday evening Martin joined his comrades quite early, but luck
had deserted him; he lost and lost. One by one the other habitués of
the place had gone until there was no one left but Martin and his few
friends at the table with him. He paid no heed to time; all he thought
of was to regain some of his lost money. Suddenly, as had happened some
years before, out on the bowling green, Martin heard the deep tones of
a bell. But this was not the curfew; it was the church bell calling to
Mass.
"Martin looked up from his cards and saw the sun shining brightly
through the curtained windows. His heart stood still with fright, for
his bargain flashed through his mind; he threw down the cards and fled
into the street, like a mad man.
"On and on he ran. He brushed past a tall man, but heeding him not,
Martin rushed on.
"'Hurry, my friend,' called out the stranger, whom he had jostled.
'Hurry, the church bell has rung; the bargain is paid.'
"A malicious laugh rang in Martin's ear. He turned and saw the
evil-eyed stranger, him of the black velvet cloak and red-plumed cap.
"Mad with fear, Martin bounded up the church steps. He entered the
house of worship; but the stranger had said truly it was too late; the
bargain was due for the service was ending. Martin Mux turned to leave
the church, but at the threshold he fell dead; the stranger had claimed
his soul.
"Since that time it has been the custom for every locksmith apprentice,
whether he comes into Vienna to seek his fortunes, or whether he goes
out from Vienna to other parts, to drive a nail into the stump of the
larch-tree and offer up a prayer for the peace of Martin Mux's soul.
That is why the old tree is so studded with nails."
"What a dreadful bargain for Martin to make!" said Teresa fearfully.
"How could he have given his soul away?"
"He chose the easier way out of a small difficulty, and he paid dearly
for it," replied Herr Müller. "It is not always the easiest way which
is the wisest, after all."