Liuthari sprang up the four steps in one bound and pushed back the
curtain. But farther went he not: he stood as if spell-bound, as if
rooted to the ground at the sight which presented itself to him.
He indeed drew back a step as if alarmed; in his astonishment, his
spear struck the ground and threatened to escape from his right hand.
For towards the king's son, with a noble step, as an alabaster Hebe
might have stepped down from her marble pedestal, advanced Felicitas.
She carried her slumbering child tenderly on the left arm, pressing it
to her bosom; her wondrously beautiful face was yet paler in the
agitation of the moment; in the right hand she carried a flat silver
vessel, filled with red wine.
"I bid you welcome, O strangers, as our guests, at the hearth of my
husband. He is absent. I am quite alone in the house. Protect me and my
child."
Liuthari found no words; with wide-opened eyes and a beating heart he
looked at the beautiful woman before him.
But old Haduwalt, stepping to his side, saw with anxiety this look of
his young master. He spoke with great seriousness:
"Be of good cheer and rest assured, Roman matron. I swear to thee by
the renown of the honour of King Liutbert and of his son Liuthari, who
stands here and is strangely silent, I will protect thee as if thou
wert my own daughter, and he shall honour thee as if thou wert his
sister. Now drink, Liuthari, what is so hospitably offered thee," cried
he, turning and taking the spear from Liuthari's hand, who still stood
as if entranced.
The young man took the bowl, put it to his mouth, sipped the wine and
gave it back, without moving his eyes from her face.
"What is thy name?" asked he with a faint, trembling voice.
"Felicitas."
He quickly stepped forward.
"Happiness! Saelde! that is thy _name_: that _art_ thou."
"I do not understand thee."
"It is not necessary," muttered Haduwalt. "Give me also something to
drink."
He took the bowl from her and emptied it at a draught.
"Truly," continued he, "the wonderful wishing-god seems to live here;
how else couldst thou have come directly towards us, towards my thirst,
with a bowl of wine?"
"I saw you coming, startled by the crashing of the stone slabs;
Philemon, our old gray-headed slave, built them up. How could he
protect me, the lame, half-blind old man?"
"And didst thou imagine thyself protected by a heap of stones, without
defenders?"
"No, indeed! I know that I am protected by the good God in heaven, and
by my protecting angel. But, when I sent out the old man (the second
time) to look for my husband,--he did not wish to leave me alone, and I
was obliged repeatedly to bid him go:--he thought I should be in some
measure hidden if he blocked up the entrance."
Following the example of the hostess, Liuthari sat down. "Thy husband!"
said he, with knitted brows. "He has forsaken thee?--in this danger?"
"Oh, no," answered the young wife, "Yesterday evening, before, there
was any appearance of danger, he went into the town, since then he has
not returned, a few hours ago he was still living and active. Philemon
saw him in the street as he was going with spear and shield towards the
bridge across the Ivarus."
"Comfort thyself," interposed the old soldier cheerfully; "very few on
thy side fell in the battle down there."
"I know certainly that he is alive. If otherwise, do you think you
would see me so calm? The gracious God in heaven cannot allow that the
best, the most excellent man on this earth, should meet, with
undeserved suffering. I trust firmly in God and am comforted."
Haduwalt thought to himself: "I have already seen many an innocent
brave man fall;" but he reserved this wisdom of experience and
answered: "Certainly! he is at most taken prisoner. And, if so, be of
good cheer. The powerful son of our king here," continued he, with a
significant look at Liuthari, "will beg for this prisoner and release
him as a reward for thy hospitality."
Liuthari drew a deep breath.
"How long have you been married?"
"It is now eleven months."
"Eleven months--of perfect happiness!" said Liuthari slowly.
"Yes: of unspeakable happiness! Since thou understandest it--art thou
also married?"
"I! No! But I--I can imagine it."
Frankly and peacefully Felicitas returned the wondering look that
rested reverentially upon her. She felt that he marvelled at her
beauty; but it did not disturb her--his look was pure. The contrast
made her involuntarily think of the disquieting flame in the black
eyes of the Tribune, which had so often alarmed her. But she could
look with pleasure on this noble, serious countenance, into these
deeply-penetrating gray eyes.
She now rose slowly.
"I have always," said she, with a smile which made her look still more
charming, "been very much alarmed at--at--at you, whom we call
'Barbarians.' And how terrified I was at hearing the stones falling one
over the other! I anxiously looked out. But when I saw how carefully
you came up the narrow way, did not trample down the flowers, when even
he in the white mantle carefully raised a rose-bush that had fallen on
the gravel path, then I said to my little son on my arm: 'Fear not,
thou apple of mine eye, _they_ will do us no harm.' And I fearlessly
filled the wine-cup. And now that I have looked into your kind eyes,
now I feel myself perfectly safe just because you are both here. And I
know certainly you will bring me my husband to-morrow morning. I will
go and place the child there in our sleeping-room."
She pointed with the finger to a small doorway in the centre, before
which hung a red woollen curtain. "Then I will bring the provisions I
have in the house."
"Do not forget the wine," called out Haduwalt.
As she glided away like a softly rustling wave, Liuthari sprang up
impetuously.
"Stay, oh, stay!" cried he hastily, following her a step or two.
But Haduwalt held him firmly by the mantle.
"She did not hear it; thanks be to the gods."
Liuthari violently set himself free.
"She _must_ hear that I"----Then he calmed himself, and pressed his
right hand to his brow.
"Now--now--now--_now!_" said the old man slowly, with long pauses. "Has
young Liuthari now for the first time seen the thing called woman, who,
instead of a man's breastplate, carries a child at her breast? I truly
feared that the Runic spell had quite bewitched thee; for in the wine
there was no magic. _I_ feel nothing peculiar in _me_. The witchcraft
began as soon as thou didst see that white face. What? thou wilt follow
her? Halt there! How vexed I am that I have forgotten all the furious,
loud-sounding, bad names with which Hadumar, my father, scolded me when
he caught me as I was climbing into the neighbour's garden to steal the
sweet pears that the Romans had grafted on to the wild pears of the
Illara forest. He thrashed me soundly; but the caressing words have
escaped me--it is so long ago. 'Thou pilferer! thou pear-stealer! thou
sluggard! thou sneak!' These were some of the most tender. And now I
could use them all admirably. Why starest thou thus speechless,
senseless, after another man's wife? Is it such behaviour that the Lady
Lindgardis, thy glorious mother, has taught thee? Dost thou not
remember Adalagardis, thy bride?"
"Old giant! blustering, growling bear! that is enough of thine abuse; I
have had quite enough of it. Adalagardis my bride? She is but a name--a
wish of my father. Can I embrace, and clasp, and kiss a name? But this
woman is living flesh and blood. I felt the sweet warmth of her arm as
I touched it. Heat flashed through me. She is so beautiful--so
wonderfully, enchantingly beautiful! It is an elfin beauty. No, no;
words cannot express it. The goddesses of Walhalla are not so beautiful
as she. Where have I seen her equal?" continued he dreamily. "It was, I
think, under a warmer, fairer sky! Ah, yes; now I see it clearly. In
the service of the Emperor, I was sailing from Byzantium through the
blue Grecian seas. There, on an island covered with myrtle and laurel,
stood the white form of a Grecian goddess. I was affected then almost
as much as now by this woman." He was silent and laid his hand on his
beating heart.
"I have nothing to say against it, Liuthari, if thou admirest her as
thou wouldst a stone statue; even if thy taste does go so far astray.
Mine seeks something different. Commend me to Adala--yes, I will be
silent! But this small-waisted little one, straight as an arrow, and
not much taller, with her thin child's arms, she looks so fragile that
she would certainly be crushed the first time thou didst heartily touch
her."
"What can the bear know about touching the harp-strings?" said Liuthari
roughly.
"It may well be, O son of my king, that I do not understand much about
dolls made in white Grecian stone-work, for the amusement of boys. But
this I know, it is much more like the son of the lady Lindgardis, to
put other men's wives out of his burning thoughts. If thou hadst known
each other _before_, and thou now didst find her in the power of
another, and she still cared for thee secretly in her heart, then I
might say, Use the superior strength with which Wotan has gifted thee.
But thus----Here she comes again, innocent, unsuspecting, trustful! She
builds on _thy_ protection, the dear child. I cannot feel vexed with
her, because she is so harmless and innocent. I say to thee, if thou,
either by look or word, dost disturb her peace, I shall take care that
father and mother give thee a very bad reception when thou dost return
home after this expedition, and dost wish to sit at the honourable
hearth of the lady thy mother."
But Liuthari was now quite angry.
"Very much I shall fear thy chattering! And the lady Lindgardis's rod
does not any longer reach to _my_ back. What art thou chattering about
there, thou senseless being? As a conqueror I stand in this house; it
is all mine; all that I wish for; the house and the mistress. Her
husband is dead, or an imprisoned thrall; she herself widow, or my
servant as soon as I call her so."
"Thy thoughts are very nicely occupied with thy Grecian goddess! Wert
thou now _my_ boy, instead of my king's, very quickly, but not quietly,
wouldst thou flee from this house. But I will watch--I, Haduwalt, heir
of Hadamar--that a son of the king of the Alemanni does not trespass
like a honey-stealing boy."
The hostess then appeared, placed on the table a prettily-woven basket,
full of white, fragrant bread, then butter, fresh goat's cheese, and a
ham.
"Directly, directly!" answered she to the silent question of Haduwalt's
thirsty eyes, and appeared again immediately, bearing on her head an
immense amphora full of wine.
Demeanour and movements were full of grace: the left arm resting on her
hip, the right raised to the handle of the pitcher, perfectly upright,
advancing slowly because of the heavy burden, thus she stepped across
the threshold.
Liuthari sprang up hastily to take the burden from her. But Haduwalt
held his arm. "Let her alone, my son! _Alone_ she certainly will not
spill the wine; what might happen if thou didst help, I should not like
to see."
Liuthari drew a deep breath; he unbuckled the heavy armour and laid it
aside, as also the large Roman helmet from his burning head. He
mechanically took the food; but he ate very little, and did not take
his eyes from her beautiful face.
But soon Felicitas rose from the repast. "I am very tired," said she.
"Since Fulvius left I have not slept, I must now go to our child; if I
hear his gentle breathing I am quite composed. I will bring you pillows
and coverlets; you must be contented here; we have no other room worthy
of such guests."
"Never mind, as far as I am concerned," cried Liuthari, springing up.
"I cannot sleep; or I can sleep in the garden, on the soft turf, my
head resting on my shield. Come with me, old man."
"No, I should rather sleep _here_, exactly here," replied he, slily
smiling to himself. "But my wolf's skin is sufficient, friendly
hostess. Thou hast shut the back-door, which, as thou saidst, led from
the garden into thy sleeping-room?"
"Yes; Philemon will not return from the town before morning."
"Certainly not earlier. The gates will be shut at night-fall. I shall
lie here quite comfortably, seest thou, here on the threshold, before
the curtain which closes thy room. Sleep well and be quite at rest,"
cried he to her through the curtain, as she was putting away the
provisions. "Not even a little mouse could reach thee without waking
me. Seest thou, I fill the whole width of the entrance, thus! Now the
wine-pitcher near me. Hurrah! it is again quite full! And very
excellent the old wine tastes. Thy husband is a connoisseur therein. I
shall drink it all. I shall not sleep. Oh no!"
"Rest well, ye guests," said she, and disappeared.
Liuthari threw a peculiar, scornful look on the old soldier cowering in
the doorway, and on the immense pitcher of wine at his side. Then he
sprang laughing down the steps into the garden.
"What?" said he to himself, half-pleased and half-defiant, "the
growling bear thinks to keep me back if I am determined to step across
that threshold? _He_ keep guard! Before he has drunk half the heavy
wine he will snore like Thor in the hall of the giants. I might,
perhaps, have given it up; but now that he presumes to coerce me--well!
what I will do when I stand before the glorious sleeper--I know not
yet; but to her couch I will go, in spite of his upbraidings."
The ardent emotion of the youth relieved itself in his defiant anger
against his old friend, who looked after him with blinking eyes.
When the quick steps sounded in the far distance, he called gently:
"Young woman!"
"What wilt thou, then?"
"Hast thou not a ball of thread in the house?"
"Certainly; here is one."
"Very well. Give me the end through the curtain. So! Dost thou see? I
will fasten the thread here at my sword-belt. And thou--thou take the
ball in thy hand and hold it firmly during sleep. Dost thou understand?
And if thou shouldst have any bad dreams, pull quickly."
"Why so? I can call thee."
"You had better not trust to that," said the old man, rubbing his tired
eyes. "They say if I once get into a wine sleep, the battle-cry of all
the Alemanni would not wake me; but if pulled by the girdle I notice it
directly. Then I shall awake, if by chance I might have gone to sleep,
and will spring to thy help."
"As thou wilt, but it is unnecessary; thy companion keeps watch there
in the garden."
"Oh, do not believe that! he is as sleepy as a marmot, on him there is
no reliance, therefore, hold the ball fast, and now goodnight, sweet
creature. I am pleased with her myself," muttered he. "Very much she
pleases me. But I must speak against her to the boy. He has never yet
caressed the cheek of any woman but his mother, and he is overflowing
with passion and strength, like a noble young stag; and now he meets
this tender white doe! Shame! if her unsuspecting soul suffered even a
little fright. I must protect _her_--and _him_. One more draught, and
then: Haduwalt, fasting and watchful."
Dimly shone the little lamp in the sleeping-room, only a faint gleam
penetrated the red curtain.
In the front room the lamp went out.
Stillness reigned over the whole house, one heard only from the garden
the lulling murmur of the spring.
From the inner room the old man soon heard the deep, regular
respirations of the sleeping young wife. Haduwalt counted them. He
counted bravely up to a hundred. He then laid his hand, groping
uncertainly, on the thread at his girdle. "All right," thought he; "and
I shall not sleep. Certainly not! Hundred and one!"
Then he counted no more.