councilors were slowly pacing to and fro, all of them dressed either in
black or scarlet silks and satins, heavy lace covering bosom and neck
up to the very chin. They did wear many gold chains, girdles and caps,
encrusted with jewels in many cases, and on their fingers they had,
over their gloves, priceless rings. And these ladies were not ugly to
look at, but rather in most instances handsome and of regular features;
many of them, too, showed a delicate complexion and their pretty oval
cheeks were rosy. But nearly all had an unpleasant glance, severe and
sour, so that it seemed doubtful whether they had ever smiled in their
lives, save perhaps at nighttime after fooling their gullible husbands.
The mutual introductions were therefore not very cordial, and everybody
seemed indeed glad when this ceremony was over and guests and hosts
both sat down at table and the feelings of embarrassment could be
concealed by the engrossing charms of eating and drinking. The
Seldwylians were the first to recover their natural equanimity, and
then there could be heard among them frequent outbursts of hilarity as
they admired the dazzling table trappings. That indeed was to the
liking of their hosts, and they were just on the point of starting a
formal conversation on that topic, when the matter took a turn wholly
unexpected by them. For the Seldwyla people, accustomed always to use
their eyes, had quickly discovered the amorous and graceful topics
which the weaver's art had embodied in the woof of this linen and the
goldsmith's in the silver and goldware so liberally displayed before
their eyes. After allowing, therefore, their ribald glances to dwell
with a close scrutiny on the lustful scenes depicted here, many
Seldwylians called the attention of their neighbors to it all, all
smiles and good humor, and interpreted the true meaning of the scene in
each instance, often naming Ovid or some other heathen author as the
original source. Even the Seldwyla ladies did not refrain, but shared
in this amusement of their husbands. The hosts at first were slow to
understand this and were inclined to think it one of the childish
tricks for which they were forever blaming their merry neighbors of
Seldwyla, but as they finally likewise bent their glances on the things
occasioning the outbursts of their guests, they were as though smitten
with palsy. For it had never entered their minds before to look with
attention at these table appointments, and had merely accepted, when
ordered by them, the exquisite products of the loom or of the
goldsmith's skill as finished ware without ever bothering their heads
further about it, and nothing had been further from them than to cast
critical glances at the subjects represented by these artisans, and it
was thus reserved for their gay guests from Seldwyla to sharpen their
vision so to speak. Now when looking closer and closer, they perceived
what pagan horrors they had chosen to ornament their own board with,
and they were struck dumb with painful amazement. But what irked them
still more was what they deemed the lack of tact and decorum on the
part of their guests who, instead of purposely overlooking such an
involuntary blunder of their hosts actually magnified it and drew it
into the full glare of publicity. According to their way of thinking
what the Seldwylians ought to have done under these peculiar
circumstances was to praise and pay attention to the costliness of the
stuff out of which these implements had been fashioned, and not to go
beyond that. The Ruechensteiner grandees now were obliged to smile with
faces as sour as vinegar when a Seldwylian neighbor would call their
attention to an exquisitely wrought silver Leda and the Swan, or to a
Europa on the back of her bull. Their wives, however, showed their
displeasure more openly, blushed and paled by turns with wrath, and
were just on the point of demonstratively leaving the banquet when the
mournful sound of a bell quickly reassured them. For it was the poor
sinners' bell of Ruechenstein. A dull and confused din in the streets
gave notice that young Dietegen was now being led to his shameful
death. All the company rose from the table, and hastened to the
windows, the Ruechensteiners purposely making room for their guests to
enable these to view the sad spectacle plainly, while they themselves
stood in the rear, an insidious grin on their sallow features.
A priest, a hangman with his helper, some court officials, and a few
armed attendants of the council went slowly past, and at their head
walked Dietegen, barefooted and clad only in a white, black-edged
delinquent shift, his hands tied in the back, and led by the hangman at
a rope. His golden hair fell in a shower down his white neck, and
confused and appealingly he looked aloft at the houses which he passed.
Under the portal of the town hall stood the boys and girls from
Seldwyla, who had, after the manner of children, left the table and the
weary banquet, and had hastened into the open air. When the pitiful
delinquent saw these pretty and happy children, the like he had never
yet perceived before, he wanted to stop a moment and talk to them,
while tears were streaming down his pale cheeks. But the executioner
roughly pushed him on, so that the train passed on and had soon
disappeared from view. The Seldwyla ladies lost color when they watched
this scene, and their men were seized with a deep dismay, since they at
no time loved to see sights of this kind. They felt out of spirits and
not at home with their hosts after such an exhibition, and thus they
soon yielded to the urging of their womenfolk, and as politely as they
could took leave of their grim hosts. The people of Ruechenstein, on
the other hand, were satisfied with the triumph they had scored against
their volatile guests, and thereby rendered almost complaisant towards
them, so that both sides parted amicably. The hosts even escorted their
honored guests, as they put it, to the town gate, and were talkative,
gallant towards the ladies, and courteous.
Outside the gate the Seldwyla cavalcade met the small group of hangmen
and their assistants, who passed them morosely. Behind them there came
a single helper pushing a small cart whereon lay, in a plain pine
coffin, the young delinquent's body. Shy and bitten with curiosity to
watch this number of brilliantly attired persons, this fellow stopped
for a moment, and turned aside, in order to let the procession file
past him. He was placing the loose lid of the bier in its proper place,
it having almost slid off and exposed the sight of the hanged.
Among the children of Seldwyla there was a seven-year-old maid, bold,
pretty and curly, who had never ceased to weep since seeing the poor
boy being led to the gallows, and refused to be consoled. And as the
train of Seldwylians now slowly swept on, the child at the moment she
came up with the cart and coffin, quickly sprang towards it, stood on
its large wheel, and threw off the lid, so that the lifeless Dietegen
lay exposed to view. At that moment he opened his eyes and drew a
breath. For in the confusion of that day he had not been hanged
according to traditional rules, and had been taken off the gallows too
early, because his executioners were in a great hurry in the hope of
returning to town in time to get some of the remnants of the feast. The
bold little girl loudly exclaimed, "He is still alive! He is still
alive!"
At once the women of Seldwyla surrounded the bier, and when they saw
indeed the handsome pale boy move about and give signs of life, they
took possession of him, removed him from the cart, and fully recalled
him to this world by rubbing his stiffened joints, sprinkling him with
water, making him swallow some wine, and using all their endeavors in
other ways. The men indeed also gave their assistance, while the
gentlemen of Ruechenstein stood by dazedly, and did not know what to
say or do. When at last the boy again stood on his own feet, and gazed
about him as though he had waked in paradise, he suddenly caught a
glimpse of the hangman's assistant, and quite astounded that he, too,
as he thought, had gone to heaven, he fled and squeezed in among the
crowd of women. Touched and moved to tears, they begged with great
earnestness of their stern neighbors to pardon the boy and to make them
a gift of him, as a token of their new friendship. Their husbands
joined in this petition, and finally, after a brief consultation
amongst themselves, the Ruechensteiners yielded assent, saying that
henceforth the youthful sinner was to be theirs. On this the pretty
Seldwyla ladies and their young children rejoiced abundantly, and
Dietegen went along with them just as he was, in his poor delinquent's
shift.
It happened to be a fine mild summer evening, wherefore the Seldwyla
folks, as soon as they had reached the crest of the mountain and
therewith also their own territory, resolved to amuse themselves here
in this delightful grove, on their own account, and to recover from the
frightful experience on their neighbors' ground. And this all the more
because there now approached a numerous reenforcement from Seldwyla
itself, full of curiosity to learn what their luck had been in
Ruechenstein. Thus it came to pass that the musicians had to intone a
merry tune and next a dance, and the goblets and tankards were filled
with the wine they had brought along, and then circulated quite
rapidly.
During all these scenes Dietegen let his eyes roam all around, and all
who saw him perceived clearly that he was indeed nothing worse than an
innocent and harmless child, a notion which his tale, when asked to
state the facts, amply confirmed. The Seldwyla women could hardly get
their fill of the sight, wove a wreath of wildflowers for him, and
placed it on his young head, so that in his long and ample shift he
looked almost like a little saint. He won their hearts, and at last
they kissed him to their full content, and when he had thus passed
through the concourse of rivaling femininity they began anew with their
kissing.
But the little girl who really had saved Dietegen from a horrible and
premature death did not at all approve of this proceeding. Quite wroth
she suddenly placed herself between the boy and the woman who just that
moment was on the point of kissing him, and took him by the hand,
leading him to a group of other children. Then the whole company burst
out laughing, saying: "That is quite right. Little Kuengolt clings to
her property! And she has taste likewise. Only see how well she and the
boy look alongside of each other!"
Kuengolt's father, however, the chief forester of the town, remarked:
"I like the looks of that boy. He has eyes that speak truth and good
sense. If you gentlemen have no objection, I will take him along for
the time being, since I have but one child, and I will try and make an
honest huntsman out of him."
This proposal met the unanimous approval of the Seldwylians, and thus
Kuengolt, well contented, did not let the boy's hand slip out of her
fingers more, but kept tight hold of it. And indeed, these two did make
a very comely pair. The little girl also wore a wreath on her head and
was clad in green and red, the town's colors. Hence they went at the
head of the whole merry procession like a picture from fairyland, in
the midst of the gay townspeople. And thus they all in the glow of
sunset poured down the mountain side on their way homewards. Soon,
however, the chief forester separated from the procession and went on
with the children on side paths to his cosy residence, which lay not
far from the city itself in the forest. A double row of tall trees led
to the main entrance, and there the demure wife of the forester sat
now, and saw with amazement the approach of the two children.
The household servants also gathered, and while the wife gave the two
hungry children an abundant supper her husband related in detail the
adventures of the boy. The latter was now completely exhausted, and
with that he felt cold in his flimsy costume, and hence the question
was put who would share overnight his bed with him. But the servant
maids as well as the men anxiously avoided to answer. They dreaded as
unlucky and impious close touch with any one who had just been hanging
from the gallows. But Kuengolt cried: "Let him share my bed. It is
large enough for both of us."
And when everybody was laughing at this, her mother said pleasantly:
"You are quite right, my little daughter." And looking closely at the
boy she added: "From the very first moment I saw the poor little chap
enter the door a strange foreboding crept over me, as though a good
angel were coming who will yet bring us a blessing. That much is
certain, according to my idea: he will not be of evil to us all!"
With that she took the two children into the adjoining bedchamber, next
to the large one, and put them to bed. Dietegen, who was so sleepy that
he scarcely noticed what was going on around him, instinctively went
through the motions for disrobing. But since he was already, in a
manner of speaking, in his shirt, his drowsy motions made such a
ludicrous impression, especially upon the little girl, that she,
already under her blanket, could not help screaming with mirth: "Oh,
just watch the comical shirtmannikin! He is always trying to take off
his spenser and boots, and yet he hasn't any!" Her mother, too, had to
smile and said to the boy: "In God's name, go to bed in your poor
sinner's shift! My poor boy, that shift is quite new and really of good
linen. Truly, these wicked people of Ruechenstein at least do their
atrocities with a certain amount of decency."
In saying which she wrapped the two little ones up well in their
blankets, and could not forbear to kiss both of them, so that Dietegen
was really better off than he had ever been in his whole life. But his
eyes were already tightly closed and his soul in deep sleep. "But now
he has not said his prayers at all," whispered Kuengolt in sorrow. Her
mother replied: "Then you will do it for both of you, my little
daughter!" and left the two. And indeed, the girl now said the Lord's
prayer twice, once for herself, once for her new bedfellow. And then
quiet reigned in the little chamber.
Some time after midnight Dietegen woke up, because only now his neck
had begun to pain him from the unfriendly rope of the hangman. The
chamber was flooded with moonlight, but he was perfectly unable to
recall where he was and how he had come there. Merely this he was
conscious of, that he aside from his sore throat, was far better of!
than ever before in his young life. The window stood open, a spring
outside murmured softly, and the silver night blew whisperingly through
the tree tops; over them all the moon shone in gentle radiance. All
this to him was wondrous, since he had never before seen the solitude
of the forest, neither by day nor by night. He gazed sleepily, he
listened, and finally he assumed a sitting posture. Then he perceived
next to him on the couch little Kuengolt, the moon's beams playing
right over her small face. She lay still, but was broad awake, since
excitement and joy would not let her sleep. Because of that her eyes
were opened to their full extent, and her mouth was smiling when
Dietegen peered into her face.
"Why don't you sleep? You ought to sleep," said the girl. But he then
complained of the pain at his throat. At once little Kuengolt weaved
her tender arms around his neck and full of pity put her own cheeks
against his. And really it soon seemed to him that his pain subsided
under such sympathetic treatment. And then they began to chat in a low
voice. Dietegen was asked to tell about himself. But he was reticent
because there was not much to tell that was pleasant, and about the
misery of his childhood he also was not able to say a great deal, since
no contrasts were within his ken, with the single exception of that
evening. Suddenly, however, he recalled his pleasant sport with the
crossbow, which had slipped his mind before, and so he told the little
girl all about the Jew, and how that one had been the cause of his
imprisonment and unjust sentence, but also about how he had taken great
delight in shooting with the crossbow, for over an hour, and how he now
longed for just such a weapon.
"My father has crossbows and weapons of every type in plenty,"
commented Kuengolt breathlessly. "And you may start in to-morrow and
shoot all you wish."
And then she set out to tell him about all the nice things in the
house, and she included in these her own pretty knicknacks, locked up
in a casket, especially two golden "rainbow" keys, a necklace of amber,
a volume full of holy legends, illustrated with pictures showing saints
in their beautiful vestments, and also a multicolored medallion in
which sat a Mother of God clad in gold brocade and vermilion silk, and
covered with a tiny round glass. Also, she enumerated further, she
owned a silver-gilt spoon, with a quaintly turned handle, but with that
she would be permitted to eat only when she was grown up and had a
husband of her own. And when it came to her wedding she would get the
bridal jewelry of her mother, together with her blue brocade dress,
which was so thick and heavy that it stood up without any one being
inside of it. Then she kept still a short while, but pressing her
bedfellow more closely against her heart, she said in a very low voice:
"Listen, Dietegen!"
"Well, what is it?" he answered.
"You must be my husband when we are big. For you belong to me. Will
you, of your own free will?"
"Why, yes," he replied.
"Then you must shake hands on it," she remarked, in a peremptory voice.
He did so, and after this binding promise the two children finally fell
asleep and did not wake till the sun stood high in the heavens. For the
kind mother had purposely refrained from rousing them, so that the poor
boy should have a thorough rest.
But now at last she cautiously crept into the little chamber, bearing
on her arm a complete boy's suit of clothing. Two years before her own
son had been killed by the fall of an oak tree, and the clothes of this
boy of hers, although he had been Dietegen's senior by a whole year,
were likely to fit him, since he was just his size. And it was her lost
boy's holiday attire, which in a saddened spirit she had preserved.
Therefore she had risen with the sun, in order to remove from the
doublet some gay ribbons ornamenting it, and to sew up the slits in the
sleeves which let the silk lining peep forth. Her tears had flown anew
in doing this labor, when she saw the scarlet silken lining that
glinted from below the black jerkin gradually disappear from view, as
jocund spring vanished in sorrow, and become of a piece with the black
trunks. The tears were shed because of the death of her own dear boy,
but a sweet consolation tinctured her soul since Fate now had sent her
such a handsome, lovable little fellow, one who had been snatched, so
to speak, out of Death's hard grasp, and whom she now could clothe in
the habiliments of her own son. And it was not from haste or fear of
the task that she left the gay silken lining under the sable outer
covering, but on purpose, as the hidden fire of affection in her bosom
moved her. For she was of those who mean better by their familiars than
they dare show openly. If the new boy proved worthy of it, she vowed to
herself, she would open the seams of the slits again, for his joy and
pride. Anyway, on workadays Dietegen was to wear this suit but for a
few days, until one of stronger and more suitable material should have
been made for him to measure by the tailor, one that he could expose to
rough usage during his ordinary occupations. But while she instructed
the boy how to put on this fine suit of a kind to which he was quite
unused, little Kuengolt had slipped out of bed, and in a spirit of
childish mischief had got hold of the gallows shift, which she now put
on and was stalking gravely in about the room, trailing its tail behind
her on the floor. With that she kept her little hands folded behind
her, as though they were tied by the hangman. Then she sang aloud: "I
am a miserable sinner now, and even lack my hose, I trow." At this the
kindly woman fell into a great affright, grew deadly pale, and said in
a low, soft voice: "For our Savior's sake, who is teaching you such
wicked jokes, my child?" And she seized the ominous shift from the
little girl's hands, who smiled at this, but Dietegen took it, being
wroth at the scene, and tore it into a score of pieces.
Now that the two children were dressed they were taken along for
breakfast in the adjoining room. Early in the morning bread had been
baked, and with the milk soup the little ones received each a fresh
loaf of cummin seed bread, and in place of the one sweet roll which on
ordinary days was specially baked for Kuengolt, there were two that
day, and the little girl would have it that the boy received the larger
of them. Dietegen ate without urging all that was offered him, just as
though he had returned to his father's house after an enforced stay
with evil strangers. But he was very still throughout, and he keenly
observed everything around him: the pleasant mild woman who treated him
like her own son, the sunny, light room, and the comfortable furniture
with which it was fitted up. And after having eaten his breakfast with
a good appetite, he continued these observations, noticing that the
walls were wainscoted with smooth pine, and higher up decorated with
painted wreaths and flowers, and that the leaded window panes showed
the arms both of husband and wife. When he also carefully inspected the
handsome closets and the sideboard with its load of shining vessels and
tableware, he suddenly remembered the dingy silver jug that had almost
brought him to his death, and the cheerless house of the beadle in
Ruechenstein, and then, afraid that he should have to return there
again, he asked with a tremor in his voice: "Must I now return home?
But I don't know the way."
"There is no need of your knowing it," said the housewife, moved by his
evident dread, and she stroked his smooth chin. "Have you not yet
noticed that you are to remain with us? Go along with him now, my
little Kuengolt, and show him the house and the woods, and everything
else. But do not go too far away!"