The old captain blew the dust from the wine flagon and carefully removed
the seal. His presence prevented Wolf from renewing the interrupted
conversation.
Reflection doubtless warned him that it would be a dangerous venture to
enter the same life-boat with this woman, yet how bewitchingly beautiful
she had seemed to him in her proud superiority, in the agitation of soul
aroused by the yearning for a fairer fate! Have her he must, even though
he was permitted to call her his own but for a year, a month, an hour.
Many of her words had been harsh and apparently unfeeling, yet how noble
must be the soul of this young creature who, for the sake of being loyal
to truth, the pure source of everything grand and lofty, paid no heed to
much that is usually sacred to human beings!
But Barbara’s conduct during the next hour appeared to belie this
opinion of the man who loved her, for scarcely had her father sat down
with the knight before the venerable wine flagon than she flung down the
smoothing iron, hastily piled the finished articles one above another,
and then, without heeding the parchment on which Wolf’s verses were
written, rolled up the ruby velvet. Directly after, with the package
under her arm, she wished the men a merry drinking bout, and added that
poor Ursel might need her. Besides, she wanted to show her the beautiful
material, which would please the faithful soul.
Then, without even pausing at the rooms in the second story, she hurried
swiftly down the stairs into the street.
She was carrying Wolf’s gift to Frau Lerch, her dressmaker.
The Grieb, where the latter lived as wife of the keeper of the house,
was only a few steps distant. If the skilful woman, who was indebted to
her for many a customer, began the work of cutting at once, her cousins,
the Wollers, could help her the next day with the sewing. True, these
were the very girls who would “turn yellow with rage” at the sight of
the velvet, but precisely because these rich girls had so many things
of which she was deprived she felt that, in asking their aid, she was
compelling Fate to atone for an injustice.
Haste was necessary for, at the first glance at the velvet, she had
determined to wear it at the next dance in the New Scales, and she also
saw distinctly in imagination the person whose attention she desired to
attract.
True, the recruiting officer sent to Ratisbon, of whom she was thinking,
was by no means a more acceptable suitor, but a handsome fellow, a scion
of a noble family, and, above all, an excellent dancer.
She did not love him--nay, she was not even captivated by him like
so many others. But, if his heart throbbed faster for any one, it was
Barbara. Yet perhaps his glances strayed almost as frequently to one
other maiden. The velvet gown should now decide whether he gave the
preference to her or to pretty Elspet Zohrer--of course, only in the
dance--for she would never have accepted him as a serious suitor.
Besides, the young noble, Pyramus Kogel, himself probably thought of no
such folly.
It was very different with Wolf Hartschwert. She had been told the small
amount of his inheritance long before, and on that account she would
have been obliged to refuse him positively at once, yet the affectionate
relations existing between them must not be clouded. He might still
become very useful to her and, besides, the modest companion of her
childhood was dear to her. She would have sincerely regretted an
irreparable breach with him.
Her father indulged her in every respect, only he strictly forbade his
beautiful child to leave the house alone after sunset. Therefore Barbara
had not told him the real object of her visit. She now had no occasion
to fear his following her.
Yet she made all possible haste, and, as she found Frau Lerch at home,
and the skilful little woman was instantly at her service, she crowded
into the space of an hour the many points about the cutting which were
to be discussed.
Then she set out on her way home, expecting to traverse the short
distance swiftly and without delay; but, when she had gone only a few
paces from the Grieb, a tall man came toward her.
To avoid him she crossed nimbly to the other side of the dark little
street, but just where it turned into Red Cock Street he suddenly barred
her way. She was startled, but the oft-proved courage of the Blomberg
race, to which she had just alluded, really did animate her, and, with
stern decision, she ordered her persecutor to stand aside.
He, however, was not to be intimidated, but exclaimed as joyously as
though some great piece of good fortune had befallen him:
“Thanks for accosting me, Jungfrau Barbara, for, though the words are
harsh, they prove that, in spite of the darkness here, my eyes did not
deceive me. Heaven be praised!”
Then the girl recognised the recruiting officer and excellent dancer
of whom she had just been thinking in connection with the velvet upper
robe, and answered sharply:
“Certainly it is I; but if you are really a nobleman, Sir Pyramus, take
care that I am not exposed by your fault to evil gossip, and can not
continue to hold my head erect as I now do.”
“Who will see us in this little dark street?” he asked in low,
persuasive tones. “May all the saints guard me from assailing the honour
of a modest maiden, fairest Barbara; yet, if you fear that I might
prevent your remaining in the future what the favour of the Most High
permits you to be, I shall rather accuse you of having inflicted upon me
what you fear may befall you; for, since the last dance, I am really no
longer myself, and can never become so until I have received from your
beautiful lips the modest consolation for which this poor, tortured,
loyal soul is yearning. May I not linger at your side long enough to ask
you one question, you severe yet ardently beloved maiden?”
“Certainly not,” replied Barbara with repellent harshness. “I never gave
you a right to speak to me of love; but, above all, I shall not seek the
sharer of a game of question and answer in the street.”
“Then name a place,” he whispered with passionate ardour, trying
meanwhile to clasp her hand, “where I may be permitted, in broad
sunlight and before the eyes of the whole world, to say to you what robs
me of rest by day and sleep by night. Drop the cruel harshness which
so strangely and painfully contradicts the language of your glances the
evening of the last dance. Your eyes have kindled these flames, and this
poor heart will consume in their glow if I am not suffered to confess
to you that I love you with more ardour than was ever bestowed on any
maiden. This place--I will admit that it is ill-chosen--but what other
was open to me? After all, here, too, a bit of the sky with its many
stars is looking down upon us. But, if you still unkindly refuse me,
or the dread of crossing the barrier of strict decorum forbids you to
listen to me here, you can mercifully name another spot. Allow me to go
to your father and beg him for the clear hand which, in a happier hour,
by not resisting the pressure of mine, awakened the fairest hopes in my
heart.”
“This is too much,” Barbara indignantly broke in. “Make way for me at
once, and, if you are well advised, you will spare yourself the visit to
my father; for, even if you were in earnest with your love and came as
an honest suitor to our modest house, it might easily happen that you
would descend the staircase, which is very steep and narrow, in as
sorrowful a mood as you climbed it secure of victory.”
Then Pyramus Kogel changed his tone, and said bitterly:
“So your victorious eyes were only carrying on an idle game with my
unsuspecting heart? You laugh! But I expected to find in my German
native land only girls whose chaste reserve and simple honesty could
be trusted. It would be a great sorrow if I should learn through you,
Jungfrau Barbara, that here, too, it would have been advisable to arm
myself against wanton deception. True, the French chansons you sing
sound unlike our sincere German songs. And then you, the fairest of the
fair, can choose at will among men; but the Emperor’s service carries me
from one country to another. I am only a poor nobleman--”
“I care not,” she interrupted him here with icy coldness; “you might be
just good enough for the daughter of another nobleman, who has little
more to call his own than you, Sir Knight, but nevertheless far too
little for me to grant you permission to load me with unjust reproaches.
Besides, you wholly lack the one advantage which the man to whom I am
willing to betroth myself must possess.”
“And what is that?” he asked eagerly.
“Neither gold nor lands, rank nor splendour,” she answered proudly, “but
changeless fidelity of the heart. Remember your fluttering from lovely
Elspet Zohrer to me, and from me to Elspet, Sir Pyramus, and ask
yourself what reason you would give me to expect the fulfilment of such
a demand. Your fine figure and gay manner please us girls very well at a
dance, but, though you should possess the wealth of the Fuggers and the
power of the Sultan, it would be useless trouble to seek my consent.
Stand out of my path at once! There come the Emperor’s body guards, and,
if you do not obey me, as surely as I hope for salvation I will call
them!”
The last words had escaped her lips in a raised voice, and vibrated
with such honest indignation that the recruiting officer yielded; but a
triumphant smile flitted over her beautiful face.
Had she known before how complete a victory he had already won over
pretty Elspet Zohrer, her most dangerous rival, this late errand would
have been unnecessary.
Yet she did not regret it; true, she cared no more for Pyramus Kogel
than for any one else--the certainty that he, too, had succumbed to
the spell of her beauty was associated with a feeling of pleasure whose
charm she knew and valued.