Wolf Hartschwert had asked the guards who were stationed at the end of
Red Cock Street whether any riders had passed them.
Several horses always stood saddled for the service of the court.
Malfalconnet mounted his noble stallion, and Count Lanoi, the equerry,
gave his companion a good horse and furnished two mounted torch-bearers.
But the Emperor’s envoys had not far to ride; halfway between the abbey
of Prufening and Ratisbon, just outside the village of Dcchbetten, they
met the returning excursionists.
Barbara’s voice reached Wolf from a considerable distance.
He knew the playmate of his childhood; her words never sounded so loud
and sharp unless she was excited.
She had said little on the way out, and Herr Peter Schlumperger asked
what had vexed her. Then she roused herself, and, to conquer the great
anxiety which again and again took possession of her, she drank Herr
Peter’s sweet Malmsey wine more recklessly than usual.
At last, more intoxicated by her own vivacity than by the juice of
the grape, she talked so loudly and freely with the other ladies and
gentlemen that it became too much even for Frau Kastenmayr, who had
glanced several times with sincere anxiety from her golden-haired
favourite to her brother, and then back to Barbara.
Such reckless forwardness ill beseemed a chaste Ratisbon maiden and the
future wife of a Peter Schlumperger, and she would gladly have urged
departure. But some of the city pipers had been sent to the forest, and
when they began to play, and Herr Peter himself invited the young people
to dance, her good humour wholly disappeared; for Barbara, whom the
young gentlemen eagerly sought, had devoted herself to dancing with
such passionate zest that at last her luxuriant hair became completely
loosened, and for several measures fluttered wildly around her. True,
she had instantly hastened deeper into the woods with Nandl Woller,
her cousin, to fasten it again, but the incident had most unpleasantly
wounded Frau Kastenmayr’s strict sense of propriety.
Nothing unusual ought to happen to a girl of Barbara’s age, and the
careless manner in which she treated what had befallen her before
the eyes of so many men angered the austere widow so deeply that
she withdrew a large share of her favour. This was the result of the
continual singing.
Any other girl would fasten her hair firmly and resist flying in the
dance from one man’s arm to another’s, especially in the presence of a
suitor who was in earnest, and who held aloof from these amusements of
youth.
Doubtless it was her duty to keep her brother from marriage with a
girl who, so long as her feet were moving in time to the violins and
clarionets, did not even bestow a single side glance upon her estimable
lover.
So her displeasure had caused the early departure.
Torch-bearers rode at the head of the tolerably long train of the
residents of Ratisbon, and some of the guests carried cressets. So
there was no lack of light, and as the lantern in her neighbour’s hand
permitted the baron to recognise Barbara, Malfalconnet, according to
the agreement, rode up to the singer, while Wolf accosted Herr Peter
Schlumperger, and informed him of the invitation which the steward, in
the Emperor’s name, was bringing his fair guest.
The Ratisbon councillor allowed him to finish his explanation, and then
with quiet dignity remarked that his Majesty’s summons did not concern
him. It rested entirely with jungfrau Blomberg to decide whether she
would accept it at so late an hour.
But Barbara had already determined.
The assent was swift and positive, but neither the light of the more
distant torches nor of the lantern close at hand was brilliant enough
to show the baron how the girl’s face blanched at the message that the
Emperor Charles did not command, but only humbly entreated her to do him
a favour that evening.
She had with difficulty uttered a few words of thanks; but when the
adroit baron, with flattering urgency, besought her to crown her
kindness and remember the saying that whoever gives quickly gives
doubly, she pressed her right hand on her throbbing heart, and rode to
Frau Kastenmayr’s side to explain briefly what compelled her to leave
them, and say to her and her brother a few words of farewell and
gratitude.
Herr Peter replied with sincere kindness; his sister with equally
well-meant chilling displeasure. Then Barbara rode on with the two
envoys, in advance of the procession, at the swiftest trot. Her tongue,
just now so voluble, seemed paralyzed. The violent throbbing of her
heart fairly stopped her breath. A throng of contradictory thoughts and
feelings filled her soul and mind. She was conscious of one thing only.
A great, decisive event was imminent, and the most ardent wish her heart
had ever cherished was approaching its fulfilment.
It is difficult to talk while riding rapidly; but Malfalconnet was
master of the power of speech under any circumstances, and the courtier,
with ready presence of mind, meant to avail himself of the opportunity
to win the favour of the woman whose good will might become a precious
possession.
But he was not to accomplish this, for, when he addressed the first
question to Barbara, she curtly replied that she did not like to talk
while her horse was trotting.
Wolf thought of the loud voice which had reached him a short time before
from the midst of the Ratisbon party, but he said nothing, and the baron
henceforward contented himself with occasionally uttering a few words.
The whole ride probably occupied only a quarter of an hour, but what
a flood of thoughts and feelings swept in this short time through
Barbara’s soul!
She had just been enraged with herself for her defiance and the reckless
haste which perhaps had forever deprived her of the opportunity to
show the Emperor Charles her skill as a singer. The cruel anxiety which
tortured her on this account had urged her at Prufening to the loud
forwardness which hitherto she had always shunned. She had undoubtedly
noticed how deeply this had lowered her in Frau Kastenmayr’s esteem, and
the discovery had been painful and wounded her vanity; but what did
she care now for her, for her brother, for all Ratisbon? She was riding
toward the great man who longed to see her, and to whom--she herself
scarcely knew whence she gained the courage--she felt that she belonged.
She had looked up to him as to a mountain peak whose jagged summit
touched the sky when her father and others had related his knightly
deeds, his victories over the most powerful foes, and his peerless
statesmanship. Only the day before yesterday she had listened to Wolf
with silent amazement when he told her of the countries and nations over
which this mightiest of monarchs reigned, and described the magnificence
of his palaces in the Netherlands, in Spain, and in Italy. Of the extent
of his wealth, and the silver fleets which constantly brought to him
from the New World treasures of the noble metal of unprecedented value,
Barbara had already heard many incredible things.
Yet, during this ride through the silent night, she did not even bestow
the lightest thought upon the riches of the man who was summoning her to
his side. The gold, the purple, the ermine, the gems, and all the other
splendours which she had seen, as if in a dream, hovering before her
at the first tidings that she was invited to sing before the Emperor
Charles, had vanished from her imagination.
She only longed to display her art before the greatest of men, whose
“entreaty” had intoxicated her with very different power from the
Malmsey at Herr Peter’s table, and show herself worthy of his approval.
That the mightiest of the mighty could not escape pain seemed to her
like a mockery and a spiteful cruelty of Fate, and at the early mass
that day she had prayed fervently that Heaven might grant him recovery.
Now she believed that it was in her own hands to bring it to him.
How often had she been told that her singing possessed the power to
cheer saddened souls! Surely the magic of her art must exert a totally
different influence upon the man to whom her whole being attracted her
than upon the worthy folk here, for whom she cared nothing. She,
ay, she, was to free his troubled spirit from every care, and if she
succeeded, and he confessed to her that he, too, found in her something
unusual, something great in its way, then the earnest diligence which
Master Feys had often praised in her would be richly rewarded; then she
would be justified in the pride which, notwithstanding her poverty,
was a part of her, like her eyes and her lips, and for which she had so
often been blamed.
She had always rejected coldly and unfeelingly the young men who sought
her favour, but with what passionate yearning her heart throbbed for the
first person whom she deemed worthy of it, yet from whom she expected
nothing save warm sympathy for the musical talents which she held in
readiness for him, earnest appreciation which raised her courage, and
also, perhaps, the blissful gift of admiration!
Never had she rejoiced so gleefully, so proudly, and so hopefully in the
magic of her voice, and she also felt it as a piece of good fortune that
she was beautiful and pure as the art with which she expected to elevate
and cheer his soul.
Transported out of herself, she did not heed the starry heavens above
her head, at which she usually gazed with so much pleasure--Wolf had
taught her to recognise the most beautiful planets and fixed stars--nor
at the night birds which, attracted by the torches of the horsemen
riding in advance, often darted close by her, nor the flattering words
to which she was wont to listen willingly, and which few understood how
to choose better than the well-trained breaker of hearts at her side.
The envoys had taken care that the city gate should be kept open for
them. Not until the hoofs of her gray horse rang upon the pavement did
Barbara awake from the dream of longing which had held her captive. She
started in alarm, raised her little plumed cap, and drew a long breath.
The ancient, well-known houses along the sides of the streets brought
her back to reality and its demands.
She could not appear before the Emperor just as she was, in her riding
habit, with disordered hair. Besides, her head was burning after the
dancing and the wine which she had drunk. She must calm herself ere
entering the presence of the royal connoisseur whose approval could
render her so happy, whose dissatisfaction or indifference would make
her wretched.
Quickly forming her resolution, she turned to Malfalconnet and explained
that she could not appear before his Majesty until after she had allowed
herself a short period of rest; but the baron, who probably feared
that some feminine caprice would spoil, even at the twelfth hour, the
successful issue of his mission, thought that he must deny this wish,
though in the most courteous manner and with the assurance that he would
procure her an opportunity to collect her thoughts quietly in the Golden
Cross.
Barbara unexpectedly wheeled her horse, struck him a blow with the whip,
and called to the astonished gentlemen, “In front of the Golden Cross in
a quarter of an hour. You, Wolf, can wait for me at the Grieb.”
The last words were already dying away as she clashed swiftly up the
street and across the Haidplatz. Bright sparks flashed from the paving
stones struck by her horse’s hoofs.
“Confounded witch!” cried Malfalconnet. “And how the unruly girl wheels
her horse and sits erect in her wild career over the flagstones! If the
gray falls, it will do her no harm. Such rising stars may drop from the
skies, but they will leap up again like the cats which I threw from the
roof when a boy. His Majesty will get something to trouble him if
he continues his admiration. Sacre Dieu! What a temperament!--and a
German!”
Hitherto both had ridden on at a walk, gazing after Barbara, although
she had already vanished in the darkness, which was illumined only by
the stars in the cloudless sky. Now the clock struck half-past ten, and
Malfalconnet exclaimed, half to the young knight, half to himself, “If
only the wild bird does not yet escape our snare!”
“Have no fear,” replied Wolf. “She will keep her promise, for she is
truthfulness itself. But you would oblige me, Herr Baron, if in future
you use a tone less light in speaking of this young lady, who is worthy
of every honour. Her reputation is as faultless as the purity of her
voice, and, obstinate as she may be----”
“So this masterpiece of the Creator finds much favour in your eyes and
your keen ears, Sir Knight,” Malfalconnet gaily interrupted. “From any
one else, my young friend, I should not suffer such a warning to pass;
but we are now riding in the Emperor’s precincts, so it would cause me
sore embarrassment if my steel pierced you, for my neck, which is very
precious to me, would then probably fall under the rude axe of the
executioner. Besides, I wish you well, as you know, and I understand
you German pedants. Henceforward--I swear it by all the saints!--I
will utter no disrespectful word of your lovely countrywoman until you
yourself release my tongue.”
“That will never be done!” Wolf eagerly protested, “and the mere
supposition would force me to bare my sword, if it were not you----”
“If it were not sheer madness for your thumb-long parade dagger to cross
blades with my good sword,” laughed Malfalconnet. “Ere you drew your
rapier, I think your lust for murder would have fled. So let us leave
our blades in their sheaths and permit my curiosity, to ask just one
more question: What consideration induces you, Sir Knight, to constrain
yourself to discreet peaceableness toward me, who, Heaven knows, excited
your ire with no evil intent?”
“The same which restrains you from the duel with me,” replied Wolf
quietly; and then, in a warmer tone, continued: “You are dear to me
because you have shown me kindness ever since I came to the court. But
you are the last person who would admit that gratitude should fetter the
hand which desires to defend itself. In comparison with you, Baron, I am
but an insignificant man, but noble blood flows in my veins as well as
in yours, and I, too, am no coward. Perhaps you suspect it because I
have accepted many things from you which I would overlook from no one
else. But I know that, however your jesting tongue sins against me, it
has nothing to do with your disposition, whose kindness has ever been
proved when the occasion offered. But you are now denying respect to a
lady--”
“From that, too, my heart is as far removed as the starry sky above
our heads from the wretched pavement of this square,” Malfalconnet
interrupted.
“Yes, Sir Knight, you judged me aright, and God save me from thinking or
speaking evil of a lady who is so dear to the heart of a friend!”
As he spoke he held out his right hand to his companion with gay yet
stately cordiality.
Wolf eagerly clasped it, and directly after both swung themselves from
their horses in the courtyard of the Golden Cross, Malfalconnet to
inform the Emperor of the successful result of his ride, the Ratisbon
knight to arrange for the proper stationing of the boy choir, and then,
obedient to Barbara’s injunction, to go to the Grieb.
He knew the baron, and was aware that any one whom this chivalrous
gentleman assured of his friendship might rely upon it, but that he did
not spare even the most sacred things if he might hope thereby to win
the approval and arouse the mirth of his imperial master.
In the glad conviction that he had done his best for the woman he loved,
and yet had not forfeited the favour of the influential man to whom he
owed a debt of gratitude, whose active mind he admired, and who had,
moreover, won his affection, he went to the neighbouring Grieb.
The favour which the Emperor showed Barbara seemed to him not only
a piece of great good fortune for her, but also for himself. He
knew Charles’s delicate appreciation of music, and could confidently
anticipate that her voice would satisfy him and win his interest. But if
this occurred, and the sovereign learned that Wolf wished to marry the
singer to whom their Majesties owed such great pleasure, it would be an
easy matter for the Emperor to place him in a position which could
not fail to content the just desire of the girl whom he loved for an
existence free from want. The interview with the monarch, to which he
was to lead Barbara at once, therefore seemed to him like a bridge
to her consent, and when he met at the Ark the court musician, Massi,
followed by a servant carrying his violin case, he called to him: “Just
look at the shining stars up above us, Massi! They are friendly to me,
and, if they keep their promise, the journey here will be blessed.”
“Amen!” replied the other as he pressed his hand cordially and asked for
further particulars; but Wolf put him off until the next day, exclaim
ing: “Jungfrau Blomberg, whose voice and execution bewitched you also,
is now to sing before his Majesty. Wish her the best luck, for on her
success depend many things for her, and perhaps for your friend also.
Once more, uphold us!”
He turned toward the Grieb as he spoke, and the longing for Barbara
quickened his pace.
The fear that the gouty monarch could cherish any other wishes
concerning the young girl than to enjoy her singing was farthest from
his thoughts.
Who would ever have seen an aspirant for woman’s favour in the suffering
Emperor, bowed during the last few years by the heaviest political
cares, and whose comparative youthfulness was easily overlooked?
At the main entrance of the Grieb Wolf was accosted by the master of the
house.
The wife of this obedient husband, Frau Lerch, known throughout all
Ratisbon as “Lerch, the mantuamaker,” had told him to keep watch, and
impressed it upon him to let no one, no matter who it might be, enter
her rooms on the ground floor except the cantor knight, as she called
Wolf.
Barbara had had little time for reflection as she fled from the
Emperor’s envoys, but a clever woman’s brain thinks quickly when an
important decision is to be made, and while turning the gray she had
decided that it would be better for her purpose, and the haste connected
with it, to go to Frau Lerch than to her own home.
In the Grieb she was sure of finding admittance at once if she knocked
at Frau Lerch’s window, while the cantor house was closed early, and a
long time might pass before the door opened to her. Besides, she did not
know how her father, who could never be depended upon in such matters,
would regard the honour that awaited her; thirdly--and this alone was
decisive--the white dress, which she meant to wear instead of the riding
habit, was at Frau Lerch’s, and what good service the skilful, nimble
fingers of her mother’s ex-maid could render in this hurried change of
garb.
Besides, it had also darted into her mind that the baron might accompany
her to her shabby abode, and that would have seemed like a humiliation.
Why should the court know what indigent circumstances had been the
portion of the artist to whom the Emperor, through no less a personage
than Baron Malfalconnet, sent an “entreaty” for her appearance?
All this had been clear to her in the course of a few seconds, and
her choice had proved fortunate, for the gate of the Grieb was still
unlocked, and the old hostler Kunz, who had been in the service of the
Gravenreuths, the former owners of the Grieb, and had known “Wawerl”
from childhood, was just coming out of the tavern, and willingly agreed
to take the gray back to Peter Schlumperger’s stable.
When Barbara entered the huge building a ray of light shone from the
private chapel at the left, dedicated to Saint Dorothea.
This seemed to her like a sign from heaven, and, before knocking at
Frau Lerch’s door, she glided into the sanctuary, threw herself upon her
knees before the image of the saint, and besought her to bestow the most
melting sweetness and the deepest influence upon her voice while singing
before his Majesty.
Then it seemed as though the face of the kindly saint smiled assent, and
in hurried words Barbara added that the great monarch was also the most
thorough connoisseur, and the altar here should lack neither candles
nor flowers if she would bestow upon her the power to win his approval.
While speaking, she raised her clasped hands toward the Virgin’s image,
and concluded her fervent prayer with the passionate exclamation: “Oh,
hear me, hear me, thou inexhaustible fountain of mercy, for if I do not
fulfil what he expected when he entreated me to sing before him, and
I see that he lets me go disappointed, the peace of this heart will be
destroyed! Hear, oh, hear me, august Queen of Heaven!”
Relieved and strengthened, she at last sprang up, and a few minutes
after Frau Lerch, with loud exclamations of admiration, was combing her
long, thick, waving locks of fair hair.
Overflowing with delight at such beauty, the thin little woman then
helped her “darling Wawerl,” her “wonderfully sweet nightingale,” to
change her dress.
Wolf’s gift, the velvet robe with the marten border, would have been too
heavy and oppressive for singing, and, besides, was not yet finished.
Barbara, she declared, had done right to choose the white one, which
was intended for the next dance at the New Scales. Nothing could be more
becoming to her enchanting little princess, and Barbara yielded herself
entirely to the experienced assistant, who had all the laces and ribbons
she needed close at hand. She could even supply her with new and dainty
satin shoes.
While Frau Lerch was working with wonderful dexterity, she also
permitted her nimble tongue no rest. In the tenderest accents of
faithful maternal solicitude she counselled her how to conduct herself
in his Majesty’s presence. Hurriedly showing Barbara how the stiff
Spanish ladies of the court curtsied, she exclaimed: “And another thing,
my darling pet: It is important for all ladies, even those of royal
blood, to try to win the favour of so great a monarch when they meet him
for the first time. You can use your eyes, too, and how effectually!
I saw you a short time ago, and, if I had been a young gentleman, how
gladly I would have changed places with the handsome recruiting officer
Pyramus at the New Scales! That was a flaming fire! Now, isn’t it
true, darling--now we no longer have even a single glance for such
insignificant fellows! Consider that settled! But things of that
sort have no effect upon his august Majesty. You must cast down your
sparkling blue eyes in modest embarrassment, as if you still wore the
confirmation wreath. All the fashionable sons of the burghers complain
of your repellent coldness. Let his Majesty feel it too. That will pour
oil on the flames, and they must blaze up high; I’d stake both my hands
on it, much as I need them. But if it results as I expect, my darling,
don’t forget old Lerch, who loves you even more than your own mother
did. How beautiful and stately she was! But she forgot her little Wawerl
only too often. I have a faithful nature, child, and understand life.
If, sooner or later, you need the advice of a true, helpful friend, you
know where to find little old Lerch.”
These warnings had sounded impressive enough, but Barbara had by no
means listened attentively. Instead, she had been anticipating, with
torturing impatience, her appearance before the great man for whom
she was adorned and the songs which she would have to sing. If she was
permitted to choose herself, he would also hear the bird-song, with the
“Car la saison est bonne,” which had extorted such enthusiastic applause
from the Netherland maestro.
But no!
She must choose something grander, more solemn, for she wished to make
a deeper, stronger, more lasting impression upon the man who was now to
listen to her voice.
Mere lukewarm satisfaction would not content her in the case of the
Emperor Charles; she wished to arouse his enthusiasm, his rapture. What
bliss it would be if she was permitted to penetrate deeply into his
soul, if it were allotted to her to make the ruler’s grave eyes sparkle
with radiant delight!
In increasing excitement, she saw herself, in imagination, lowering the
sheet of music, and the sovereign, deeply moved, holding out both hands
to her.
But that would have been too much happiness! What if the violent
throbbing of her heart should silence her voice? What if the oppressive
timidity, which conquers every one who for the first time is permitted
to stand in the presence of majesty, should cause her to lose her memory
and be unable to find the mood which she required in order to execute
her task with the perfection that hovered before her mind?
Yes, that would happen! With cruel self-torture she dwelt upon the
terrible dread, for she thought she had noticed that the best success
often followed when she had expected the worst result. Fran Lerch
perceived what was passing in her mind, and instilled courage until she
had finished her work and held up the mirror before Barbara.
The girl, whether she desired to do so or not, could not help looking
in. She did it reluctantly, and, after hastily assuring herself that
she was presentable, she turned the glittering disk away and would not
glance at it again.
She feared that the contemplation of her own image might disturb her;
she wished to think only of the worthy execution of her task, and the
shorter time she kept the Emperor waiting the less she need fear having
an ill-humoured listener.
So she hurriedly ejaculated a few words of gratitude to the old
attendant and seized the kerchief for her head, which she had taken to
Prufening with her; but the dressmaker wound around her hair a costly
lace veil which she had ready for a customer.
“The valuable article may be lost,” she thought. “But if, sooner or
later, something happens which my lambkin, who thinks only of her sweet
babble, does not dream, it will return to me with interest. Besides,
she must see what maternal affection I feel for her.” Then, with tender
caution, she kissed the girl’s glowing cheeks, and the blessing with
which she at last dismissed her sounded devout and loving enough.
Wolf had not waited long; it was just striking eleven when Barbara met
him at the door talking with Herr Lerch, the owner of the house.
Before leaving the Grieb, she again glanced into the chapel in the
courtyard dedicated to Saint Dorothea, and uttered a swift though
silent prayer for good success, and that her singing might have a deep
influence upon the august hearer.
Meanwhile she scarcely heeded what her friend was saying, and, while
walking at his side the short distance through a part of Red Cock Street
and across the Haidplatz, he had no words from her lips except the
request that he would tell her father of the great honour awaiting her.
Wolf, too, had imposed silence upon himself; it was necessary for
the singer, on the eve of this important performance, to refrain from
talking in the night air.