army about seventeen battalions to you; the fugitives at the first
blast of the trumpet will return to their standards, Mannsfield's
flying division stands ready for battle in rear of the enemy, eight
thousand fresh troops in support have arrived from Hungary and have
already reached Brandeis.... Only give orders for the gates to be shut,
and for the burghers to arm and the city can hold out against a long
siege."
"What do _you_ think, Prince?" Frederick turned to Anhalt. He shrugged
his shoulders. "Advise me, gentlemen, advise me, what is your opinion?"
cried Frederick almost imploringly, "what should be done?"
"First of all," observed Bubna with a side glance at Anhalt, "a brave
general must be nominated to conduct the defence of the city...."
"You have requested my advice, gracious Sire!" Anhalt now continued,
"well then, the open street is a bad place for a serious consultation:
permit me to accompany you to the castle, there we will think the
matter over...."
The battle lost had not diminished Anhalt's influence over the feeble
Frederick. The Palatine turned his horse, and accompanied by Anhalt,
Hohenlohe and Schlemmersdorf, rode to the Hradschin. Bubna looked after
them in bitter wrath.
"What do you think of doing, Bitter?" enquired Bubna after a long and
painful pause.
"At all events I shall remain to-night in the city," replied Gabriel,
"to-morrow we shall hear, what sort of a plan Frederick's council has
hatched, and I shall guide myself accordingly.... It is settled that
our Mannsfield shall continue the war, even if Frederick concludes a
peace. Whatever happens, I intend to share Mannsfield's fate."
"You are no Bohemian, Bitter! you are free.... but I, I, ... I love
not Frederick, I esteem him not:--but the diet has elected him: if he
is obliged to leave Prague a fugitive, I must go with him, I cannot act
otherwise. Only when he has obtained a secure retreat, shall I join
Mannsfield--therefore Bitter, farewell!"
Gabriel pressed Bubna's hand, but suddenly the old soldier threw his
arms passionately round Gabriel's neck and kissed him repeatedly with
impetuosity. "You saved my life at the skirmish of Netolitz," he said,
"I have never thanked you for doing it. I always believed that I should
some day repay the old debt. But our paths divide--Bitter! we are
approaching a period, insecure, and prolific of disorder: ... The
immediate future may bring death to us, I do not know whether we shall
ever meet again. Bitter! I feel as if I shall never see thee more.... I
thank thee.... farewell!"
Bubna tore himself away by a violent effort, his rough powerful voice
shook, large tears flowed slowly over his powder-blackened face.
Without leaving Gabriel time to reply, he spurred off in the direction
of the Hradschin. But once more he halted and making a signal with his
hand, cried, "farewell, Bitter, for ever!"
Gabriel could make no answer from emotion, and was obliged almost to
cling to his horse's neck to prevent rocking in his seat.--That strange
flutter within him of a sad presentiment of death, when Schlemmersdorf
called him to the field, had disappeared in the heat of the fight, but
was again powerfully excited when he had stood in single combat against
the awful Pappenheim. For a moment he had given himself up as lost
beyond redemption. But he had conquered, he had returned without a
wound, safe and sound to Prague: it seemed to him as though he had
risen superior to destiny. A bold violent feeling of self-confidence in
his strength attained to its highest pitch, and spite of bitter
discontent for the lost battle, he still smiled within himself at the
childish terrors to which he had given way. But Bubna's leave-taking,
the gloomy presentiment, which the aged, gallant veteran steeled in
many a battle had undoubtedly given voice to, and which Gabriel had
involuntarily referred to himself, had once again violently shaken him.
In swift course, as though to leave his gloomy thoughts behind, he
spurred over the bridge into the Altstadt, and first held rein in the
Marienplatz before his residence. His devoted armourer was waiting for
him impatiently at the gate.
"Thank God, gracious Sir, you live; you are not wounded.... The battle
is lost, is it not?"
Gabriel hurried, without heeding the armourer's words up the steps and
beckoned him to follow. Gabriel threw himself into an arm chair, the
armourer stood straight as a taper before him, expecting his orders.
"Martin!" began the General after a long reflection; "you have always
been faithful to me, from my heart I thank you for it--you must do me
one more service, perhaps the last. This night will decide the fate of
Prague, of the whole country. I do not doubt that Frederick will follow
the whispered suggestions of his council, will fly; ... in that case
the ensuing morning must not find me in Prague.... I dare not fall
alive into the hands of the Imperialists...."
"Only, gracious Sir, fly," interposed Martin, rubbing the back of his
hand across his moist eyes; "don't lose a moment!"
"No, Martin! I must stay here to-night, I _must_ Martin!" he repeated
impetuously, as if the man had contradicted him; then rapidly paced the
chamber, and said softly to himself. "How, if Frederick were cowardly
and wicked enough to open at once and instantly the gates of Prague for
the entrance of the enemy.--How if I, the outlaw, should fall alive
into the hands of the Imperialists, if I, born in ignominy, should die
ignominiously by the hand of the executioner, should die without having
avenged myself; ... No, no, I stay in Prague at all hazards, I _must_
revenge myself.... and then?... surely I have a trusty sword, I will
never fall alive into the hands of my enemy.... Martin!" he said aloud,
"in every event let two of the dragoons who accompanied me to Prague,
wait for me to-morrow morning early at the Schweinthor well armed and
with a saddled horse. If in the course of the night the city is put
into a state of defence, it will be announced to the burghers and you
will hear of it. If this is not the case, we must conclude that
Frederick gives up all idea of resistance, surrenders his crown.--The
best plan will be for you to go to the Hradschin and watch carefully
whether the Palatine takes flight. No carriage can pass out of the city
unperceived. To-morrow at daybreak you come to the gate and make your
report to me. If the city is given up, I shall go to Brandeis to meet
the Hungarian reinforcements, endeavour to form a junction between them
and Mannsfield, and the war begins anew.--If the Imperialists march in,
they will seek me; say that I escaped with the Palatine."
"Gracious Sir!" cried Martin, "fly at once, tarry not a moment. I will
fly with you, I will never forsake you."
"What is the matter with you?" said Gabriel, moved in spite of the
disorder of his spirits by the armourer's proposal. "You are now a
domiciled citizen of Prague, no one will trouble himself about you, and
when the first storm, which will only touch lofty heads, has blown
itself out, you can go on with your business in peace. Consider, old
man! you have only one leg, you are no longer young, a soldier's life
is no longer suitable for you.... or are you afraid lest they should
pay you out for your fidelity to me? No, Martin! there is no fear of
that, they do not know of it, and even if they did know!..."
"No, it is not that, gracious Sir," replied Martin; "I only fear on
your account. Why will you pass this night in Prague?... fly at once!"
"I _cannot_, Martin! I _cannot_," said Gabriel; "it will be time enough
to fly to-morrow.... I adhere to the directions that I have given. Now
leave me alone, I have still matters to think over.--We shall see one
another to-morrow."
Martin lingered yet another moment. "Gracious Sir!" he said.
"Do you still wish to say anything?... Yes, I recollect, I must reward
you for your faithful service, and to-morrow in my hurry I might forget
it ..." Gabriel began to unlock a cabinet.
"For God's sake. Sir! How could you misunderstand me so? that is not
what I desire, I am rich enough:--but grant me this favour--fly to-day,
fly at once...."
Martin's obstinacy was striking. "What reason have you? Have you any
information? Do you think that a rising in favour of the Imperialists
will break out in the city? speak!
"No, by God Almighty, I have no information, gracious Sir!... but," he
added in a low unsteady voice, "I fear, I know not why, that I shall
never see you alive again to-morrow."
Gabriel gave an involuntary shudder. The words of the honest armourer
accorded so exactly with Bubna's farewell.--
"Martin!" he said, after he had recovered his self-possession, "your
love to me makes you take a gloomy view of everything.... I cannot set
off today, I _must stay here_--my resolution is immovable!"
Martin bowed himself over the hand, which Gabriel extended to him, and
wetted it with his tears.
"My resolve is unshakeable!" repeated Gabriel once more when he was
alone.... this was the last word that he had addressed to Blume.... He
paced the room with long strides. Physical exhaustion, unusual but
easily to be accounted for, increased his intense mental excitement.
His stirring life had been always full of manifold vicissitudes, but
to-day in the short space of a few hours an infinity of events had been
compressed. Once awakened and kept alive by suggestion, from many
quarters, he could not quite banish from his soul the thought that he
should die _to-day this very day_. He had often been near to death, the
enemies' balls had often whistled about him, hostile daggers had
threatened him, he might often before have fallen, and unavenged, and
without having accomplished his design:--_But he had never been so near
it_--on the faintest doubt of the success of his plan he suffered the
tortures, which legend attributes to Tantalus: only more woeful.... _If
he should die to-day without having revenged himself, if he should die,
behind him a desolate, empty, aimless existence, before him an unknown
future, then there must be a Providence, then he must have ruined more
than one human life, more than one existence_.--He struggled with the
whole strength of his powerful intellect against the thought that would
keep rising from the depths of his soul. But the thought was
intangible, irrefutable. He might assure himself thousands of times,
that there was no ground for these terrors, but for the very reason
that he found no sensible foundation for his apprehensions, this
inexplicable coincidence of his own sensations with that of his friend
Bubna, of his devoted Martin, caused him a feeling of uneasy
astonishment.--But his strong mind gradually with many a struggle
composed itself. He could not in truth annihilate the painful thought,
but he overcame it.
"Blume's fate, her husband's life is still in my hands," he said to
himself. "The immediate future may cause an alteration in our relative
positions.... the grey dawn of to-morrow must not find me in Prague....
I do not know whether I shall ever see Blume again--the favourable
moment for revenge must be made use of!"
One hour later Gabriel was about to step out of the back-door of his
house. He was again in the dress of a student, but he had this time
thrown a broad cloak about him.
"What do you want, Martin?" he enquired in surprise, as he saw the
armourer, who caught him hurriedly by the arm.
"Sir," cried he, "do not enter the Jews' quarter, fly, quit the silly
passion.... he entreated; what signify Jewish women to you?... do not
go into the Jews' town, they are well affected to the Emperor there."
"Martin! you mean well ... but I cannot follow your advice--See," he
unfolded his cloak, under which flashed a scabbard and three pistols,
"I am armed, there is nothing to be afraid of. Leave me, you know me,
you are aware that my resolution is immovable.--Remember, to-morrow
early at the Schweinsthor."
Gabriel stepped out and hastened to the Jews' street. Martin gazed
after him as long as he was in sight, then closed the postern and
murmured with a sigh: "surely I shall never see him again."
* * *
The news of Fredericks complete overthrow had soon spread over the
whole city, and the highest excitement prevailed everywhere. The
burghers of the Altstadt had sent up to the castle, to ask what they
should do, and offered themselves to enlist troops and defend the city
if Frederick would remain in Prague. Frederick's answer, which he
communicated to the burghers by Anhalt's advice: "that they should
endeavour to make terms with the enemy, for himself he would depart at
daybreak" was not as yet known. The inhabitants of the Altstadt, well
disposed to Frederick, were overwhelmed, the population of the
Kleinseite on the other hand, being for the most part devoted to the
Emperor, rejoiced at the victory which Duke Maximilian had won. Great
excitement too prevailed in the Jews' town. Numerous groups in the open
street were whispering the latest intelligence; all were of the
Imperial faction. Gabriel hurried through this throng. At the corner of
a street he happened to run against a crowd of students. He recognised
them, they were in the habit of attending the lecture room of the
Assessor Reb Lippmann Heller, the same which Gabriel, in order to keep
up at least the outward appearance of a student, had attended.
"How do you do Reb Gabriel;" one of the students turned quickly
round, "How do you do? a pity you were not at lecture this morning,
it was a lecture! I tell you, you can only hear one like it in
Prague--wonderful!"
The student who had addressed Gabriel was a strange figure.--He was the
Nestor of the Prague students.--He had numbered fifty years. Devoted to
the continual study of the Talmud he had found it best after a mature
deliberation of five and twenty years to renounce all ideas of
marriage. In early days these may very well have been wrecked upon his
outward appearance, which in fact offered little that was attractive.
His unusual height did not in the remotest degree harmonise with a
remarkable leanness that served as a foil to an enormous humped back.
His dress was moreover calculated to intensify the strange impression
produced by his appearance. Of a poor family, and too devoted to study
to earn a living by teaching, he was perpetually driven to make use of
his friends' cast off clothes. This he did without paying the least
attention to their physical stature, and so it came to pass, that his
threadbare silken doublet scarce covered his hump, that the much-darned
slovenly cloth-breeches turned up their ends at the knee, where they
should by right have joined on to the somewhat ragged silk stockings
and left a notable gap very imperfectly filled up by a linen band; that
the little close fitting cap, whose original black tended towards a
very significant red, rested but lightly on his head covered with thick
masses of hair, and shook about at the slightest movement of the
vivacious man. A grey beard, that hung untended down on his breast, was
continually combed out by the fingers of his right hand, and when its
bearer was engaged in any animated discussion was forced to submit to
have its end turned up artistically into his mouth, and to be bitten,
and in fact Reb Mordechai Wag's--that was the student's name--teeth had
manifestly thinned this ornamental hair appendage. Notwithstanding this
very unattractive exterior, Reb Mordechai Wag was everywhere well
received. He had a quick intelligence that readily grasped the essence
of Talmud truth, and a good heart. On account of his dialectics, he was
a terror to all itinerant teachers who wished to lecture in Prague and
a patron of all the humble students who came to the high school there.
Often, when as was the custom at that time, he was invited by some
member of the community to dinner, he sent some one else in his place,
who, less fortunate than himself had found no host that day, and while
he gave out that he was ill, chewed his small crust of dry bread at
home, and laughed at his own cunning. Study of the Talmud was the one
highest aim of his life. It seemed to him impossible that a student
could take interest in anything besides a lecture, and even to-day,
when everything was in the greatest uproar, it was perfectly
indifferent to him, whether the Palatine or the Duke Maximilian gained
the victory, and his thoughts ran only in their accustomed track.--It
was very unpleasant for Gabriel, just in his present temper, to have
fallen into the hands of the sympathetic Reb Mordechai, and yet he was
unwilling to draw the attention of the students to himself by making
off in too great a hurry. He enveloped himself therefore more closely
in the cloak that concealed his arms, and said struggling with his
impatience: "I am sorry to have missed to-day's lecture, I shall take
the earliest opportunity of asking you to impart to me what the...."
"Why put it of? I will tell you at once: what have we got better to do
now?"
"I thought," replied Gabriel forcing a laugh, "a moment when every one
looks excitedly forward to see what will happen next, when it will be
decided whether the Emperor or the Palatine...."
"What does that matter to us students?" interrupted Reb Mordechai,
provoked by Gabriel's opposition.... "The Emperor will be a mild
ruler.... the Palatine and the Bohemian nobility have also protected us
Jews, but how can that be helped, they haven risen against the
government, and you know, that is not right.--But let us leave all that
to the Holy one, praised be his name--and occupy ourselves with an
exposition of his words.... the master then...."
"Reb Mordechai," now interposed a young man with a dark expressive
countenance, whom the others called Reb Michoel; "leave that for the
present. It is a fine thing when learning is combined with knowledge of
the world.... The affairs of this world are also of importance even
though you cannot understand it; you come from outside," he continued
turning to Gabriel, "have you perchance heard anything more authentic
about the battle? It is reported, that the Hungarian cavalry was at
first victorious, but that the heavy artillery of the Imperialists had
silenced the fire of the small...."
"What does it signify to a student," asked Reb Mordechai vehemently,
"whether the cavalry fired on the infantry, or the infantry on the
cavalry, whether they first let off the small firelocks and then the
great guns, or contrariwise? What rightly constituted student troubles
him about such things? A student may become a Rabbi, or a butcher, or
peaceful father of a family, but have you ever seen a student that
became a soldier?"
A third youth who had as yet taken no share in the conversation drew
nearer. "I have only been a short time in Prague," he said, "I have up
to this time been studying at Frankfurt on Main, I am not aware whether
the name of Gabriel Suess is known to you.... he was first an able
student, and then became a soldier."
Gabriel shrunk within himself; he heard himself thus named for the
first time since many years, he made no answer, but Michoel shook his
head negatively. "Gabriel Suess.... Suess"--repeated Reb Mordechai
thoughtfully, "was not he a bastard? I once heard something about
it.... but I have no memory for such trifling matters."
"What happened to him?" asked Michoel inquisitively, "tell us, I pray
you."
Reb Nochum--that was the name of the Frankfurt student--complied with
Reb Michoel's urgent request, and related Gabriel's history, departing
indeed here and there somewhat from the truth, but on the whole
correctly enough. His story concluded thus, that Gabriel had once since
his baptism been seen by early acquaintances on horseback with several
Imperial troopers, but might perhaps, as he had disappeared since that
time, have met his death in the Juliers and Cleves war.
"Yes, I have heard something of the kind," said Mordechai, when the
Frankfurt student had finished; "but it was not known in Prague that he
had become a soldier, it was reported that he had drowned himself; who
knows however whether it was true.... Besides you know, he might have
been declared legitimate, yes truly," added Mordechai hastily, feeling
himself once more on firm ground, "The mothers declaration is worth
nothing, Gabriel Suess ought not to be looked upon as a bastard, refer
to the Jad-ha-Chasaka cap. 15 &c." ...
"That's all very well, Reb Mordechai," replied Michoel, "but you
forget, it was a dying mother, a dying mother will not part from her
child with a lie.... and moreover she had ever till then, as this story
is told, loved her son.... besides, what would be the use to him? Will
any one, will any one person doubt, that he is a bastard? If you had a
sister or daughter, would you give her to him to wife? think of that,
Reb Mordechai: _No power on earth could establish the legality of his
birth before our inward convictions!_"
Michoel's glance chanced to rest upon Gabriel's face, he noticed the
fiery red, and deadly pallor that coursed in quick succession over
Gabriel's features.--"_Not before inward conviction_," echoed Gabriel,
feebly.--Reb Mordechai had no answer to make, and a pause ensued.
Gabriel might now have got away, but he would not, the conversation was
too interesting to him not to hear the end of it.
"The law: that a bastard may not enter into the congregation of the
Lord," began Reb Nochum again, "is unreasonable. Why should the
innocent be punished for the sins of his parents? Why is he cast forth
from the closest, loveliest union? Why may he never lead home a loving
woman as wife? Why may he not be happy in the circle of his family? Yet
consider, even in this law the spirit of the Lord comes to light, which
breathes upon the faithful out of every word of Holy Scripture.
Contemplate this bastard, this Gabriel Suess.... he cursed his inanimate
mother: ... only a bastard could do that, no man could perpetrate such
an iniquity, unless he were born in sin.... The transgression, that
called him into life, urges him ever farther forward, and involuntarily
he trod the paths of sin.... therefore the Lord in his wisdom may...."
"You are a thinker," Michoel interrupted the speaker, "and I am glad to
have met you: such are not often found among students.... _A firm faith
in God is not shaken by reasonable speculations, if they are kept
properly subordinate_. But you are in error friend! God forbid, that
any man should be obliged to follow a path absolutely fixed beforehand,
the path of sin.--Where would his free will be? that is not so. You may
not give a daughter or sister to a bastard as wife, so the commentaries
enjoin us--but only that and nothing further is declared by the
Talmud--that is a command, like many others, a command of the Lord's,
obscure and inexplicable to man's mind.... but a bastard may be noble,
great, a shining light to his people. Are you not acquainted with the
article 'a bastard profoundly versed in scripture is superior in
dignity to a high priest who is less deserving.' Is it not true,"
Michoel turned to Mordechai, "that it is so. Gabriel Suess ought not to
have despaired, ought not to have acted as he did. The Lord had blessed
him with earthly wealth, had endued him with a powerful intellect: he
might have been a benefactor of the poor, a staff to the infirm, a
teacher of his people, an example of humble submission. In the
enjoyment of the highest mental activity, the undisturbed study of
God's word, in strivings for a future state, he might have found
consolation, and peace even in this world. _His fate was in his own
hands.... it was his own fault that he perished_."