While Susan and the other serving folks, with certain of the retainers

brought by our guests, were searching the house through, I hastily did

on my shoes and garments for out-door wear, and albeit it was already

dusk, I went forth. Yea, and I held my head high and my body straight as

I went along the streets, whereas for these weeks past I had crept about

hanging my head; meseemed that a change had come over my outward as

well as my inner man. And as I reached Pernhart’s house, with long swift

steps, more folks would have seen me for what in truth I was: a healthy

young creature, with a long span of life before me yet and filled with

strength and spirit enough to do good service, not to myself alone, but

to many another, and chiefest of all to my dearly beloved brother.

And when I was at my walk’s end and stood before the old mother,--who

was now recovered from her sickness and sitting upright and sound in

her arm-chair with her youngest grandchild in her lap,--I knew forthwith

that I had come to the right person.

The worthy old dame had not been slow to mark what ailed me; nay, if

Cousin Maud had not besought her to spare my sorrowing soul, she long

since had revealed to me what peril hung over Herdegen. She had not

failed to perceive that my weary submission to ills which might never be

remedied, had broken my power and will to fulfil what good there was in

me. And now I stood before her, freed from that sleepwalking dulness of

will, eager to know the whole truth, and declared myself ready to do all

that in me lay to attain one thing alone, namely to rescue my brother.

On this I learnt from the venerable dame’s lips that now I was indeed

the old Margery, albeit Cousin Maud had of late denied it, and with good

reason; and the old woman was right, inasmuch as that the more terrible

and unconquerable the danger seemed, the more my courage rose and the

greater was my spirit. Now, too, I heard that what I had taken for

love-sick weakness in Ann was only too-well founded heart-sickness;

and that she likewise, on her part, had not been idle, but, under the

guidance of Cousin Maud and Uncle Christian, had moved heaven and earth

to succor her lover, albeit alas! in vain.

In truth the cause was as good as lost; and Uncle Christian, who ever

hoped for the best, made it no secret that, in the most favorable, issue

Herdegen must begin life afresh in some distant land. Yet was neither

Ann nor I disposed to let our courage fail, and it was at that time that

our friendship put forth fresh flowers. We fought shoulder to shoulder

as it were, comrades in the struggle, full of love towards each other

and of love for my brother; and when I bid her farewell and she would

fain walk home with me, all those who dwelt in the coppersmith’s house

were of the same mind as men might be in a beleaguered town, who had

been about to yield and then, on a sudden, beheld the reinforcements

approaching with waving banners and a blast of trumpets.

In truth there was a shrewd fight to be waged; and the stronghold which

day by day waxed harder to conquer was my lord chief Constable, the

Elector Frederick; his peer, the Elector of Maintz, put all on him when

Cardinal Branda, who was Ann’s kind patron, besought his mercy.

Until I had been roused to this new care in life I had never been to

court, in spite of many a gracious bidding from my lady, the Queen.

My supplications found no answer, and when Queen Barbara granted me

audience at my entreaty, though she received me graciously, yet would

she not hear me out. She would gladly help, quoth she, but that she,

like all, must obey the laws; and at last she freely owned that her

good will would come to nought against the demands of the Elector of

Brandenburg. The greatness of that wise and potent prince was plainly

set before our eyes that same day, for on him, as commander-in-chief of

the crusade to be sent forth against the Hussite heresy, the Emperor’s

own sword was solemnly bestowed in the church of Saint Sebald. It was

girt on to him by reverend Bishops, after that he had received from

the hand of the Pope’s legate a banner which his Holiness had himself

blessed, and which was borne before him by the Count of Hohenlohe as he

went forth.

That it would be a hard matter to get speech with so potent a lord at

such a time was plain to see; howbeit I was able to speak privily at

any rate with his chamberlain, and from him I learned in what peril

my brother was, inasmuch as not the Junker’s father alone was bent on

bringing him to extreme punishment, but likewise no small number

of Nuremberg folk, who had of yore been aggrieved by my brother’s

over-bearing pride.

Every one who had ever met him in the streets with a book under his arm,

or had seen him, late at night, through the lighted window-pane, sitting

over his papers and parchments, was ready to bear witness to his study

of the black arts. Thus the diligence which he had ever shown through

all his wild ways was turned to his destruction; and it was the same

with the open-handed liberality which had ever marked him, by reason

that the poor, to whom he had tossed a heavy ducat instead of a thin

copper piece, would tell of the Devil’s dole he had gotten, and how that

the coin had burnt in his hand. Nay and Eppelein’s boasting of the gold

his young lord had squandered in Paris, and wherewith he had filled his

varlet’s pockets, gave weight to this evil slander. Many an one held it

for a certainty that Satan himself had been his treasurer.

Thus a light word, spoken at first as a figure of speech by the Knight

von Rochow, had grown into a charge against him, heavy enough to wreck

the honor and freedom of a man who had no friends, and even to bring him

to the stake; and I know full well that many an one rejoiced beforehand

to think that he should see that lordly youth with all his bravery

standing in the pointed cap with the Devil’s tongue hung round his neck,

and gasping out his life amid the licking flames.

CHAPTER V.

The Diet was well-nigh over, yet had we not been able to gain aught in

Herdegen’s favor. One day my Forest Aunt, who had marked all our doings

with wise counsel and hearty good-will, sent word that he on whose

mighty word hung Herdegen’s weal or woe, the Elector Frederich himself,

had promised to visit at the Lodge next day to the end that he might

hunt, and that we should ride thither forthwith.

By the time we alighted there his Highness had already come and gone

forth to hunt the deer; wherefor we privily followed after him, and at a

sign from Uncle Christian we came out of the brushwood and stood before

him. Albeit he strove to escape from us with much diligence and no small

craftiness, we would not let him go, and kept up with him, pressing him

so closely that he afterwards declared that we had brought him to bay

like a hunted beast. Of a truth no bear nor badger ever found it harder

to escape the hounds than he, at that moment, to shut his eyes and

ears against bright eyes and women’s tongues made eloquent by Dame Love

herself. Moreover my mourning array, worn as it was for a youth who had

stood above most others in his love, would have checked any hard words

on his lips; thus was he once more made to know that Eve’s power was not

yet wholly departed. Yet were we far from believing in any such power in

ourselves, as we appeared before that great and potent sovereign, whose

manly, calm, and withal fatherly dignity made him, to my mind, more

majestic than the tall but unresting Emperor.

I can see him as he stood with his booted foot on the hart’s neck, and

turned his noble head, with its long, smooth grey hair, gazing at us

with his great blue eyes, kindly at first, but presently with vexation

and well-nigh in wrath.

We held our hands tight on our hearts, striving to call to mind some few

of the words we had meditated with intent to speak them in defence of

Herdegen. And our love, and our steadfast purpose that we would win

grace and mercy for him came to our aid; and whereas my lord’s first

enquiry was to know whether I were that Mistress Margery Schopper who

had been betrothed to his dear Hans Haller, too soon departed, my eyes

filled with tears, but the memory of the dead gave me courage, so that

I dared to meet the great man’s eye, and was right glad to find that

the words which in my dread I had forgot, now came freely to my mind.

Likewise meseemed that, in overriding my own fears, I had conquered

Ann’s; whereas she had been pale and speechless, clinging to the folds

of my dress, she now stood forth boldly by my side.

Then, when I had presented her to his Highness as Herdegen’s promised

bride, to whom he had been plighted in love from their childhood, I made

known to his lordship that it was not my brother’s desire, but that of

my grand-uncle, that Ursula should be his wife. Likewise I strove to

release my brother from the charge of making gold, by diligently showing

that the old Knight had ever showered ducats on him to beguile him to

his will. Then I spoke at length of Herdegen’s skill with the sword,

and hereupon Ann made bold to say that it would be well to bid her lover

return in safe-keeping to Nuremberg, and there let him give proof of

his skill with a weapon specially blessed by my lord Cardinal Julianus

Caesarinus, the Pope’s legate, which could have no taint of devilish

arts.

Thus did we give utterance to everything we had meditated beforehand;

and albeit the Elector at first made wrathful answer, and even made as

though he would turn his back on us, each time we made shift to hold him

fast. Nay, or ever we had ceased he had taken his foot from the stag’s

neck, and at length we walked with him back to the forest lodge, half

amused, yet half grieved, with the mocking words he tormented us with.

Then he bid us quit him, promising that he would once more examine into

the matter of that young criminal.

Within doors supper was now ready, but we, as beseemed us, kept out of

the way. My brother’s case was now in safe hands, inasmuch as my Uncle

Conrad and Christian sat at table with my lord. Likewise we were much

comforted, whereas my aunt told us that the elder Knight, Junker Henning

von Beust’s father, who was here in the Elector’s following, had, of

his own free will, said to her that he now rued his deed in so violently

accusing Herdegen, by reason that his son, who was now past all danger,

had earnestly besought him to save this man, whose skill was truly a

marvel, and had likewise said that he whom Hans Haller had honored with

his friendship could not have practised black arts. Also he held me

dear as the widowed maid to whom his friend was to have been wed, and he

could never forgive himself if fresh woe came upon me through him or his

kith and kin.

All this was glad tidings indeed, not alone for Herdegen’s sake, but

also by reason that there are few greater joys than that of finding

good cause to approve one whom we respect, and yet whom we have begun to

doubt.

Ann and I went to our chamber greatly comforted, and in such good

heart as at that time I could be, and when from thence I heard Uncle

Christian’s great voice, as full of jollity as ever, I was certain that

matters were all for the best for Herdegen. Our last fears and doubts

were ere long cleared away; while the gentlemen beneath were still over

their cups a heavy foot tramped up the stairs, a hard finger knocked

at our chamber door, and Uncle Christian’s deep voice cried: “Are you

asleep betimes or still awake, maidens?”

Whereupon Ann, foreboding good, answered in the gladness of her heart

that we were long since sleeping sweetly, and my uncle laughed.

“Well and good,” quoth he, “then sleep on, and let me tell you what

meseems your very next dream will be: You will be standing with all of

us out in a green mead, and a little bird will sing: ‘Herdegen is freed

from his ban.’ At this you will greatly rejoice; but in the midst of

your joy a raven shall croak from a dry branch: ‘Can it be! The law must

be upheld, and I will not suffer the rascal to go unpunished.’ Whereupon

the little bird will twitter again: ‘Well and good; ‘t will serve him

right. Only be not too hard on him.’ And we shall all say the same, and

thereupon you will awake.”

And he tramped down the stair again, and albeit we cried after him, and

besought him to tell us more of the matter, he heard us not at all.

When we were at home again, lo, the Elector had done much to help us. I

found a letter waiting for me, sealed with the Emperor’s signet, wherein

it was said that, by his Majesty’s grace and mercy, my brother Herdegen

was purged of his outlawry, but was condemned in a fine of a thousand

Hungarian ducats as pain and penalty.

Thus the little bird and the raven had both been right. Howbeit, when I

presently betook me to the castle to speak my thanks to the Empress, I

was turned away; and indeed it had already been told to me that at Court

this morning that sorrowful Margery, with her many petitions, was looked

upon with other eyes than that other mirthful Margery, who had come with

flowers and songs whensoever she was bidden. None but Porro the jester

seemed to be of the same mind as ever; when he met me in the castle yard

he greeted me right kindly and, when I had told him of the tidings in

the Emperor’s letter, he whispered as he bid me good day: “If I had a

fox for a brother, fair child, I would counsel him to lurk in his cover

till the hounds were safe at home again. In Hungary once I met a certain

fellow who had been kicked by a highway thief after he had emptied his

pockets. I tell you what. A man may well pawn his last doublet, if he

may thereby gain a larger. He need never redeem the first, and it is

given some folks to coin gold ducats out of humbler folks’ sins. Ah! If

I had a fox for a brother!”

He sang the last words to himself as it were, and vanished, seeing

certain persons of the Court.

Now I took this well-meant warning as it was intended; and albeit Ann

and I were heartsick with longing to see Herdegen and to release him

from his hiding, we nevertheless took patience. The legal guardians of

our estate, having my uncle’s consent, took my Cousin Maud’s suretyship,

and expressed themselves willing to pay the fine out of the moneys left

by our parents, into the Imperial treasury. And that which followed

thereafter showed us how wise the Fool’s admonition had been.

The knight, Sir Apitz von Rochow, who had served as Junker Henning’s

second in the fight, tarried yet in Nuremberg, and this rude, arrogant

youth had devoted himself with such true loving-kindness to the care

of his young cousin, at first in the priest’s house at Altenpero and

afterwards in the Deutsch-haus in the town, that he had taken no rest,

day nor night, until the Junker’s father came, and then he fell into a

violent fever. It was but of late that the leech had granted him to go

out of doors, and his first walk was to our house to show me his sorrow

for my grief, and to thank my cousin for many pleasant trifles which she

had sent to him and the Junker during their sickness, to refresh them.

At the same time he broke forth in loud and unstinted wrath against

Sir Franz von Welemisl, and gave us to wit that with his whole heart he

grudged him the fair Ursula, whose favor he himself had so diligently

sued for since the first days of the Diet. From our house he went to the

Tetzels’, and then he and the Bohemian forthwith came to high words and

defiant glances.

Shortly after this, and a few hours only after my brother’s penalty had

been paid into the Treasury, the two young gentlemen met in the nobles’

wine-room by the Frohnwage, and von Rochow, heated by wine and heeding

neither moderation nor manners, began to taunt Ursula’s betrothed. After

putting it to him that he had left the task to Herdegen of picking up

the glove, “which peradventure he had thought was of too heavy leather,”

to which the other made seemly reply, he enquired, inasmuch as they were

discoursing of marriage, whether the Church, which forbids the joining

of those who are near of kin, hath not likewise the power to hinder

a young and blooming maid from binding herself for life to a sickly

husband. Such discourse was ill-pleasing by reason of the Bohemian’s

presence there: and the Junker went yet further, till to some speech

made by old Master Grolaud, he made answer by asking what then might be

a priest’s duty, if the sick bridegroom failed to say “yes” at the altar

by reason of his coughing? And as he spoke he cast a challenging look at

Welemisl.

The hot blood of the Bohemian flew to his brain; or ever any one could

hinder him, his knife was buried to the hilt in the other’s shoulder.

All hastened to help the Brandenburger, and when presently some turned

to seize the criminal he was no more to be seen.

This dreadful deed caused just dismay, and most of all at Court,

inasmuch as the chamberlain and the maid of honor in close attendance on

their Majesties’ persons were near kin to the Bohemian, whose mother was

of the noble Hungarian house of Pereny.

As to the Emperor, he flew into great fury and threatened to cancel

the murderer’s coat of arms and punish him with death. Never within the

peace of his realm, nay and under his very eyes, had so much noble

blood been shed in base brawling as here in our sober city, and he

would forthwith make an example of the guilty men. He would make young

Schopper pay some penalty yet more than a mere fine, to that he pledged

his royal word, and as for young Welemisl, he was minded to devise some

punishment that should hinder many an over-bold knight from drawing

his sword! And he commanded that not only his own constables and

men-at-arms, but likewise the town bailiffs, should forthwith seek and

take both those young men.

Only two days later Sir Franz was brought in by the city watch; he had

dressed himself in the garments of a waggoner, but had betrayed himself

in a tavern at Schwabach by his coughing. Howbeit his Majesty had by

this time come to another mind; nay, Queen Barbara left him less peace

than even the court-folks, for indeed her father, Count Cilly, was near

of kin to the Perenys, and through them to the Welemisl.

The Emperor Sigismund was a noble-minded and easy-living prince, who

once, when forty thousand ducats had been poured into his ever-empty

treasure chest, divided it forthwith among his friends, saying: “Now

shall I sleep well, for that which broke my rest you bear away with

you.” And this light-hearted man, who was ever tossed hither and thither

against his will, now saw that his peace was in evil plight by reason

of Sir Franz. This was ill to bear; and whereas his royal wife called to

mind in a happy hour that Welemisl had been provoked out of all measure

by Rochow’s scorn, and had done the deed out of no malice aforethought

but, being heated with wine, in a sudden rage, and that he was in so far

more worthy of mercy than young Schopper, who had shed noble blood

with a guilty intent, counting on his skill as a swordsman, the Emperor

surrendered at discretion. In this he was confirmed by his privy

secretary, Caspar Slick, whom the Queen had beguiled; and this man,

learned in the law, was ready with a decision which the Imperial

magistrate gladly agreed to forthwith, as mild yet sufficient. Matters

in short were as follows: About ten years ago the Knight Sir Endres von

Steinbach had slain a citizen of Nuremberg in a fray with the town, and

had made his peace afterwards with the council under the counsel of the

Abbot of Waldsassen: by taking on himself, as an act of penance, to

make a pilgrimage to Vach and to Rome, to set up stone crosses in four

convents, and henceforth to do service to the town in every quarrel,

in his own person, with a fellowship of ten lances for the space of two

years. All this he had duly done, and it came about that the Emperor now

condemned the Bohemian and my brother both alike to make a

pilgrimage, not only to Rome--inasmuch as their guilt was greater than

Steinbach’s--but likewise to Jerusalem, to the Holy Sepulchre and other

sacred places. Welemisl was to pay the same penalty in money as Herdegen

had paid, and in consideration of their having thus made atonement for

the blood they had shed, and as their victims had escaped death,

they were released from the doom of outlawry. On returning from their

pilgrimage they were to be restored to their rank and estates, and to

all their rights, lordships, and privileges.

Not long after this sentence was passed the Court removed from Nuremberg

through Ratisbon, where the Emperor strove to make up his quarrel with

the Duke Bavaria and then to Vienna; but ere his departing he gave

strait orders to the chief magistrate to see that the two criminals

should fare forth on their pilgrimage not longer than twenty-four hours

after the declaration of their doom.

CHAPTER VI.

Shall I now set forth how that Ann and I found Herdegen in his

hiding-place, a simple little beekeeper’s but in the most covert part of

the Lorenzer wald, a spot whither no horseman might pass; how that even

in his poor peasant’s weed my brother was yet a goodly man, and clasped

his sweetheart in his arms as ardently as in that first day on his

homecoming from Italy--and how that the dear, hunted fellow, beholding

me in mourning dress, took his sister to his heart as soon as his

plighted love had left the place free? Yea, for the dead had been dear

to him likewise, and his love for me had never failed.

When we presently gave ourselves up in peace to the joy of being all

together once more, I weened that his eye was more steadfast, and his

voice graver and calmer than of old; and whensoever he spoke to me it

was in a soft and heartfelt tone, which gave me comforting assurance

that he grieved for my grief. And how sweetly and gravely did he beguile

Ann to make the most of this sad meeting, wherein welcome and God-speed

so closely touched. In the house once more I rejoiced in the lofty

flight which lifted this youth’s whole spirit above all things common

or base; and his sweetheart’s eyes rested on him in sheer delight as he

talked with my uncle, or with the magistrate who had come forth with us

to the Forest. And albeit it was in truth his duty to the Emperor his

master, to fulfil his behest, nevertheless he gave us his promise that

he would put off the announcement of the sentence till we should return

to the town next day, and prolong our time together and with Cousin Maud

as much as in him lay.

My aunt’s eyes shone with sheer joy when they fell on her darling with

Herdegen at her side, and she could say to herself no doubt that these

two, who, as she conceived, were made for each other, would hardly

have come together again but for her help. Or ever we set forth on the

morrow, she called Herdegen to her once more to speak with him privily,

and bid him bear in mind that if ever in his wanderings he should meet

another youth--and he knew who--he might tell him that at home in the

Lorenzerwald a mother’s heart was yet beating, which could never rest

till his presence had gladdened it once more.

My uncle rode with us into the town. It was at the gate that the

magistrate told Herdegen what his fate should be: that he must leave

Nuremberg on the morrow at the same hour; and to my dying day I shall

ever remember with gladness and regret the meal we then sat down to with

our nearest and dearest.

Cousin Maud called it her darling’s condemnation supper. She had watched

the cooking of every dish in the kitchen, and chosen the finest wine out

of the cellar. Yet the victual might have been oatmeal porridge, and the

noble liquor the smallest beer, and it would have been no matter to our

great, albeit melancholy gladness. And indeed, no man could have gazed

at the pair now come together again after so many perils, and not have

felt his heart uplifted. Ah! and how dear to me were those twain! They

had learnt that life was as nothing to either of them without the other,

and their hearts meseemed were henceforth as closely knit as two streams

which flow together to make one river, and whose waters no power on

earth can ever sunder. They sat with us, but behind great posies of

flowers, as it were in an isle of bliss; yet were they in our midst, and

showed how glad it made them to have so many loving hearts about

them. Notwithstanding her joy and trouble Ann forgot not her duty as

“watchman,” and threatened Uncle Christian when he would take more than

he should of the good liquor. He, however, declared that this day was

under the special favor of the Saints, and that no evil could in any

wise befall him. My Forest-uncle and Master Pernhart had been found in

discourse together, and the matter of which they spoke was my Cousin

Gotz. And how it gladdened the father to speak of his far-off son! More

especially when Pernhart’s lips overflowed with praise of the youth to

whom his only child owed her early death.

Most marvellous of all was the Magister. Herdegen’s return to his

beloved robbed Master Peter of his last hope; nevertheless his eyes had

never rested on her with fonder rapture. Verily his faithful heart was

warmed as it were by the happiness which surrounded her as with a glory,

and indeed it was not without some doubts that I saw the worthy man,

who was wont to be so sober, raise his glass again and again to drink to

Ann, whether she marked him or not, and drain his glass each time in her

honor. My Uncle Christian likewise filled his cup right diligently, and

seeing him quaff it with such lusty good will I feared lest he should

keep us all night at table, when the time was short for Ann and my

brother to have any privy speech together. But that good man forgot not,

even over the wine-jar, what might pleasure other folks; and albeit it

was hard for him to quit a merry drinking-bout he was the first to move

away. We were alone by sundown. The Magister had been carried to bed and

woke not till noon on the morrow.

The plighted couple sat once more in the oriel where they had so

often sat in happier days, and seeing them talking and fondling in the

gathering dusk, meseemed for a while that that glad winter season had

come again in which they had rejoiced in the springtide of their love.

Thus the hours passed, and I was in the very act of enquiry whether it

were not time to light the lamps, when we heard voices on the stairs,

and Cousin Maud came in saying that Sir Franz had made his way into the

house, and that he declared that his weal or woe, nay and his life lay

in Herdegen’s hand, so that she had not the heart to refuse to suffer

him to come in. Hereupon my brother started up in a rage, but the

chamber door was opened, and with the maid, who brought the lamp in, the

Bohemian crossed the threshold. We maids would fain have quitted them;

but the knight besought us to remain, saying, as his eyes humbly sued

to mine, that rather should I tarry and speak a good word for him. Then,

when Herdegen called upon him to speak, but did not hold forth his

hand, Sir Franz besought him to suffer him to be his comrade in his

pilgrimage. Howbeit so doleful a fellow was by no means pleasing in my

brother’s eyes, and so he right plainly gave him to understand; then the

Bohemian called to mind their former friendship, and entreated him to

put himself in his place and not to forget that he, as a man sound of

limb, would have avenged the scorn put on him by Rochow in fair fight

instead of with a dagger-thrust. They were condemned to a like penance

and, if Herdegen would not suffer him and give him his company, this

would be the death-blow to his blighted honor.

Hereupon I appealed to my brother right earnestly, beseeching him not to

reject his former friend if it were only for love of me. And inasmuch

as on that day his whole soul was filled with love, his hardness was

softened, and how gladly and thankfully my heart beat when I beheld him

give his hand to the man who had endured so much woe for my sake.

Presently, while they were yet speaking of their departing, again there

were voices without; and albeit I could scarce believe my ears I mistook

not, and knew the tones for Ursula’s. Ann likewise heard and knew them,

and she quitted the chamber saying: “None shall trouble me in such

an hour, least of all shall Ursula!” The angelus had long since been

tolled, and somehap of grave import must have brought us so rare a guest

at so late an hour. My cousin, who would fain have hindered her from

coming in, held her by the arm; and her efforts to shake off the old

lady’s grasp were all in vain till she caught sight of Herdegen. Then

at length she freed herself and, albeit she was gasping for breath, her

voice was one of sheer triumph as she cried: “I had to come, and here I

am!”

“Aye, but if you come as a Mar-joy I will show you the way out, my

word for that!” my cousin panted; but the maid heeded her not, but went

straight toward Herdegen and said: “I felt I must see you once more ere

you depart--I must! Old Jorg attended me, and when I am gone forth again

Dame Maud will speak my ‘eulogium’. Only look at her! But it is all one

to me. Find me a place, Herdegen, where I may speak with you and Ann

Spiesz alone. I have a message for you.”

Hereupon my cousin broke in with a scornful laugh, such as I could never

have looked to hear from her, with her kind and single heart; and my

brother told Ursula shortly and plainly that with her he had no more

to do. To this she made answer that it would be a sin to doubt that,

inasmuch as he was now a pious pilgrim and honorably betrothed,

nevertheless she craved to see Ann. That, too, was denied her, and she

did but shrug her shoulders; then she turned to the Bohemian, who had

gone towards her, and asked him with icy politeness to remove from her

presence, inasmuch as he was an offence to her. Hereupon I saw the last

drop of red blood fade away from the young Knight’s sickly cheek, and

it went to my heart to see him uplift his hands and implore her right

humbly: “You know, Ursula, all that hath befallen me for your sake, and

how hard a lot awaits me. Three times have I been plighted to you, my

promised bride, and as many times cast off....”

“To spare you the like fate a fourth time; all good things being in

threes!” she put in, mocking him. “Verily you have cured me of any

desire ever to be your Dame, Sir Knight. And since meseems this day our

speech is free and truthful, I am fain to confess that such a wish was

ever far enough from me, and even when we stood betrothed. A strange

thing is love! ‘Here’s to fair Margery!’ one day, on every noble

gentleman’s lips; and on the morrow: ‘Here’s to sweet Ursula!’ In some

folks it grows inwardly, as it were a polypus, and of such, woe is me,

am I. My love, if you would know the truth, my lord Baron von Welemisl,

love such I have known I gave once for all to that man Herdegen

Schopper; it has been his from the time when, in my short little skirts,

I learnt to write; and so it has ever been, till the hour when worthy

Dame Henneleinlein, the noble Junker’s new cousin--it is enough to make

one die of laughing!--when that illustrious lady whispered the truth in

my ear that her intending kinsman had thrown me over, and, with me, old

Im Hoff’s wealth, for the sake of a scrivener’s wench. And to think that

as a boy he was wont to bring me posies, and wear my colors! Nay, and

since that time he has shot many a fiery glance at me. Only lately he

wrote to his uncle from Paris that he was minded to make me his wife.

Ah, you may open your eyes wide, most respected every-one’s-cousin Maud,

and you likewise, prim and spotless Mistress Margery! Cross yourselves

in the name of all the Saints! A dead wolf cannot bite, and as for my

love for that man, I may boldly declare that it is dead and buried.

But mark me,” and she clapped her hand to her heaving bosom, “mark me,

somewhat else hath made entrance here, with drums and trumpets and high

jubilee: Hate!--I hate you, Herdegen, as I hate death, pestilence, and

hell; and I hate you twice as much since your skill with the rapier

brought the combat with the Brandenburger, into which I entrapped you,

to so perverse an end.”

Hereupon Cousin Maud, wild with rage herself, gripped her again by the

arm to draw her forth from the chamber, but Ursula went on in a milder

tone:

“Only a few moments longer, I pray you; for by the Blessed Virgin and

all the Saints I swear that I would not have come hither at so late an

hour but to deliver my message to Herdegen.”

My cousin released her, and she drew forth a written paper and again

enquired for Ann; howbeit my brother said that he did not purpose to

call her in, and desired that she would give him the paper, if indeed

it concerned him. To this she answered that he would presently know that

much, inasmuch as it was her intent to read it to the company, only she

would fain have had his fair mistress among the hearers. Howbeit she

had a good loud voice, she thanked the Saints, and the doors in the

Schoppers’ house were scarce thicker than in other folks’ houses. The

letter in her hand had been given to her to deliver to Herdegen by the

newlymade vicar of his Highness the Elector and Archbishop of Treves,

who was lodged with the Tetzels. He had not been able to find him, no

more than the Emperor’s men-at-arms; so he had bidden her take good heed

that she gave it into Junker Schopper’s own hand. But verily she would

do yet more, and spare him the pains of reading it.

Hereupon my brother, in great ire, bid her no longer keep that which was

not her own; yet she refused, and whereas Herdegen seized her hand to

wrench away the paper she shrieked out to the Bohemian: “Give him his

due, for a knave who offends maidens; that outcast for whom I scorned

and misprized you! Help, help, if you are no churl!”

My brother nevertheless had already snatched the letter from her, and

the Bohemian, who had laid his hand on his dagger, thought better of it

as his eye met my look of warning.

It was a fearful moment of terror, and Ursula, whose hair had fallen

loose, while her flashing blue eyes, full of hate, shot lightnings on

one and another, stood clinging to the heavy dresser whereon our silver

and glass vessels were displayed, and cried out as loudly as she could

shout: “The letter is from his lady-love in Padua, the Marchesa Bianca

Zorzi. That cunning swordsman’s blade made her a widow, and now she bids

him return to her embrace. The fond and ardent lady is in Venice, and

her intent is to revel there in love and pleasure with her husband’s

murderer. And he--though he may have sworn a thousand vows to the

scrivener’s hussy--he will do the Italian Circe’s bidding, and if he may

escape her snares he will fall into those of another. Oh! I know him;

and I feel in my soul that his fate will be to dally with one and

another in delights and raptures, till the Saints fulfil my heart’s

chiefest desire, and he comes to despair and anguish and want, and the

scrivener’s wench breaks her heart under my very eyes with pining and

sheer shame. Away, away, Herdegen Schopper! Go forth to joy and to

misery! Go-with your pale black-haired mate. Revel and wallow, till

you, who have trampled on this heart’s true love, are brought low--as

loathsome in the eyes of men as a leper and a beggar.”

And she shook the dresser so that the precious glass cup which the

German merchants of the Fondaco at Venice had given to my father at his

departing, fell to the floor and was broken to pieces with a loud crash.

We had hearkened to her ravings as though spellbound and frozen; and

when we at last took heart to put an end to her wild talk, lo, she was

gone, and flying down the stairs with long strides.

Herdegen, who had turned pale, struggled to command himself. Cousin

Maud, who had lost her breath with dismay, burst into loud weeping; the

wild maid’s curse had fallen heavy on her soul. I alone kept my senses,

so far as to go to the window and look out at her. I saw her walking

along, hanging her head; the serving man carried the lantern before her,

and the Bohemian was speaking close in her ear.

When I came back into the chamber Cousin Maud had her arm round

Herdegen, and was saying to him, with many tears, that the curse of the

wicked had no power over a pious and faithful Christian; yet he quitted

her in haste to seek Ann, who doubtless would have stayed in the next

chamber, and perchance needed his succor. Howbeit the door was opened,

and we could scarce believe our eyes when she came in with that same

roguish smile which she was wont to wear when, in playing hide-and-seek,

she had stolen home past the seeker, and she cried: “Thank the Virgin

that the air is clear once more! You may laugh, but in truth I fled up

to the very garret for sheer dread of Mistress Tetzel. Did she come to

fetch her bridegroom?”

Herdegen could not refrain from smiling at this question, and we

likewise did the same; even Cousin Maud, who till this moment had sat on

the couch like one crushed, with her feet stretched out before her, made

a face and cried: “To fetch him! Ursula who has caught the Bohemian!

She is a monster! Were ever such doings seen in our good town?--And

her mother was so wise, so worthy a woman! And the hussy is but

nineteen!--Merciful Father, what will she be at forty or fifty, when

most women only begin to be wicked!” And thus she went on for some

while.

Ere long we forgot Ursula and all the hateful to-do, and passed the

precious hours in much content, till after midnight, when the Pernharts

sent to fetch Ann home. Herdegen and I would walk with her. After a

grievous yet hopeful leave-taking I came home again, leaning on his arm,

through the cool autumn night.

When I now admonished Herdegen as we walked, as to the fair Marchesa and

her letter, he declared to me that in those evil weeks he had spent in

bitter yearning as a serving man in the bee-keeper’s hut, he had learned

to know his own mind. Neither the Marchesa, whom he scorned from the

bottom of his heart, inasmuch as, with all her beauty, she was full

of craft and lies, no, nor event Dame Venus herself could now turn him

aside from the love and duty he had sworn to Ann. He would, indeed, take

ship from Genoa rather than from Venice, were it not for shame of such

fears of his own weakness, and that he longed once more to set eyes on

our brother Kunz whom he had not seen for so long a space.

I found it hard to see clear in this matter. Yet could I not deem it

wise to deny him the first chance of proving himself true and honest;

likewise meseemed that our younger brother’s presence would be a safe

guard against temptation. Under the eye of our parent’s pictures I

bid him good night for the few hours till he should depart, and when I

pointed up to them he understood me, and clasped me fondly in his arms

saying: “Never fear, little mother Margery!”

We were with Herdegen again or ever it was morning. While we had been

sleeping he had written a loving letter to my grand-uncle, who had

yesterday forbidden him his presence, to bear witness to his duty and

thankfulness.

The cocks still were crowing in the yards, and the country-folk were

coming into town with asses and waggons, when I mounted my horse to

ride forth with my brother. He was busied in the courtyard with the new

serving-man he had hired, by reason that Eppelein, who for safety’s sake

had not been suffered to go with him into hiding, had vanished as it

were from the face of the earth. Nay, and we knew for what cause and

reason, for Dame Henneleinlein had counselled the King’s men to seize

him, to the end that he might be put on the rack to give tidings of

where his master lay hid. If they had caught him his stout limbs would

have fared ill indeed; but the light-hearted varlet was a favorite with

the serving men and wenches of the court-folk, jolly at the wine cup and

all manner of sport, and thus they had bestowed him away. And so, while

we were living from day to day in great fear, an old charcoal wife would

come in from the forest twice or thrice in every week and bring charcoal

to the kitchen wench to sell, and albeit she was ever sent away, yet

would she come again and ask many questions.

While we were yet tarrying for Herdegen to be ready the old wife came by

with her cart, and when she had asked of some needful matters she pulled

off her kerchief with a loud laugh, and lo, in her woman’s weed, there

stood Eppelein and none other. Hereupon was much rejoicing and, in a few

minutes, the crafty fellow was turned again into a sturdy riding man,

albeit beardless.

Eppelein’s return helped Cousin Maud over the grief of leave-taking.

Yet, when at last we must depart, it went hard with her. At the gate

we were met by the Pernharts with Ann and Uncle Christian. My lord

the chief magistrate likewise was there, to bear witness to Herdegen’s

departing; also Heinrich Trardorf, his best beloved schoolmate, who had

ever been his faithful friend.

We had left the walls and moat of the town far behind us, when we heard

swift horses at our heels, and Sir Franz, with two serving-men, joined

the fellowship. My brother had soon found a place at Ann’s side, and we

went forward at an easy pace; and if they were minded to kiss, bending

from their saddles, they need fear no witness, for the autumn mist was

so thick that it hid every one from his nearest neighbor.

Thus we went forth as far as Lichtenhof, and while we there made halt to

take a last leave, meseemed that Heaven was fain to send us a friendly

promise. The mist parted on a sudden as at the signal of a magician, and

before us lay the city with its walls, and towers, and shining roofs,

over-topped by the noble citadel. Thus we parted in better cheer than we

had deemed we might, and the lovers might yet for a long space signal to

each other by the waving of hat and of kerchief.

CHAPTER VII.

Herdegen’s departing marks my life’s way with another mile-stone. All

fears about him were over, and a great peace fell upon me.

I had learnt by experience that it was within my power to be mistress of

any heart’s griefs, and I could tell myself that dull sufferance of woe

would have ill-pleased him whose judgment I most cared for. To remember

him was what I best loved, and I earnestly desired to guide my steps as

would have been his wish and will. In some degree I was able to do so,

and Ann was my great helper.

My eyes and ears were opened again to what should befall in the world in

which my lover had lived; all the more so as matters now came about in

the land and on its borders which deeply concerned my own dear home and

threatened it with great peril.

After the Diet was broken up, the Elector Frederick of Brandenburg was

forced to take patience till the princes, lords, and mounted men-at-arms

sent forth by the townships, five or six from each, could muster at his

bidding to pursue the Hussites in Bohemia. One year was thus idly spent;

albeit the Bohemian rebels meanwhile could every day use their weapons,

and instead of waiting to be attacked marched forward to attack. Certain

troops of the heretics had already crossed the borders, and our good

town had to strengthen its walls and dig its moat deeper to make ready

for storm and siege. Or ever the Diet had met, many hands had already

been at work on these buildings; and in these days every man soul in

Nuremberg, from the boys even to the grey-haired men, wielded the spade

or the trowel. Every serving-man in every household, whether artisan or

patrician--and ours with the rest--was bound to toil at digging, and our

fine young masters found themselves compelled to work in sun or rain, or

to order the others; and it hurt them no more than it did the Magister,

whose feebleness and clumsiness did the works less benefit than the

labor did to his frail body.

Wheresoever three men might be seen in talk, for sure it was of

state-matters, and mostly of the Hussites. At first it would be of the

King’s message of peace; of the resistance made by the Elector Palatine,

Ludwig, in the matter of receiving the ecclesiastical Elector of Mainz

as Vicar-general of the Empire; of the same reverend Elector’s loss of

dignity at Boppard, and of the delay and mischief that must follow. Then

it was noised abroad that the Margrave Frederick of Meissen, who now

held the lands of the late departed Elector Albrecht of Saxony in

fief from the King, and whose country was a strong bulwark against

the Bohemians, was about to put an end to the abomination of heresy.

Howbeit, neither he nor Duke Albrecht of Austria did aught to any good

end against the foe; and matters went ill enough in all the Empire.

The Electors assembled at Bingen made great complaints of the King

tarrying so far away, and with reason; and when he presently bid them to

a Diet at Vienna they would not obey. The message of peace was laughed

to scorn; and how much blood was shed to feed the soil of the realm in

many and many a fight!

And what fate befell the army whereon so great hopes had been set? The

courage and skill of the leader were all in vain; the vast multitude

of which he was captain was made up of over many parts, all unlike, and

each with its own chief; and the fury of the heretics scattered

them abroad. Likewise among our peaceful citizens there was no small

complaining, and with good cause, that a King should rule the Empire

whose Realm of Hungary, with the perils that beset it from the Ottoman

Turks, the Bohemians, and other foes, so filled his thoughts that he

had neither time, nor mind, nor money to bestow due care on his German

States. His treasury was ever empty; and what sums had the luckless war

with Venice alone swallowed up! He had not even found the money

needful to go to Rome to be crowned Emperor. He had failed to bring

the contentious Princes of the Empire under one hat, so to speak; and

whereas his father, Charles IV., had been called the Arch-stepfather

of the German Empire, Sigismund, albeit a large-hearted, shrewd, and

unresting soul, deserved a scarce better name, inasmuch as that he, like

the former sovereign, when he fell heir to his Bohemian fatherland, knew

not how to deal even with that as a true father should.

Not a week passed after Herdegen’s departing but a letter by his own

hand came to Ann, and all full of faithful love. I, likewise, had, not

so long since, had such letters from another, and so it fell that these,

which brought great joy to Ann, did but make my sore heart ache the

more. And when I would rise from table silent and with drooping head,

the Magister would full often beg leave to follow me to my chamber, and

comfort me after his own guise. In all good faith would he lay books

before my eyes, and strive to beguile me to take pleasure in them as the

best remedy against heaviness of soul. The lives of the mighty heathen,

as his Plutarch painted them, would, he said, raise even a weak soul to

their greatness and the Consolatio Philosophiae of Boetius would of a

surety refresh my stricken heart. Howbeit, one single well-spent hour in

life, or one toilsome deed fruitful for good, hath at all times brought

me better comfort than a whole pile of pig-skin-covered tomes. Yet have

certain verses of the Scripture, or some wise and verily right noble

maxim from the writings of the Greeks or Latins dropped on my soul now

and again as it were a grain of good seed.

Sad to tell, those first letters from Herdegen, all dipped in sunshine,

were followed by others which could but fill us with fears. The pilgrims

had been over-long in getting so far as Venice, by reason that Sir Franz

had fallen sick after they had passed the Bienner, and my brother had

diligently and faithfully tended him. Thus it came to pass that another

child of Nuremberg, albeit setting forth after them, passed them by; and

this was Ursula Tetzel, whose father deemed it well to send her forth

from the city, where, of a truth, the ground had waxed too hot for her,

inasmuch as she had given cause for two bloody frays; and Cousin Maud,

to be sure, had not kept silence as to her unbridled demeanor in our

house.

Now Mistress Mendel, her aunt, had many years ago gone to the city of

St. Mark, and albeit it was there against the laws for a noble to marry

with a stranger maiden, she had long since by leave of the Republic,

become the wife of Filippo Polani, with whom she was still living in

much ease and honor. In Augsberg, in Ulm, and in Frankfort, there were

many noble families of the Tetzels’ kith and kin, yet she had chosen

to go to this aunt in Venice; and doubtless the expectation of meeting

Herdegen there, whether in love or hate, had had its weight with her.

Thus it came to pass that she found him at Brixen, where he tarried with

the sick knight; and he wrote that, as it fell, he had had more to do

with her and her father than he had cared for, and that in a strange

place many matters were lightly smoothed over, whereas at home walls and

moats would have parted them; nay, that in Italy the Nuremberger would

even call a man of Cologne his countryman.

For my part, I could in no wise conceive how those two should ever more

speak a kind word to each other, and this meeting in truth pleased me

ill. Howbeit, his next letter gave us better cheer. He had then seen

Kunz, meeting him right joyfully, and was lodged in the Fondaco, the

German Merchants’ Hall, where likewise Kunz had his own chamber.

Herdegen’s next letter from Venice brought us the ill tidings that the

plague had broken out, and that he could find no fellowship to travel

with him, by reason that, so long as the sickness raged in Venice,

her vessels would not be suffered to cast anchor in any seaport of the

Levant. And a great fear came over me, for our dear father had fallen a

prey to that evil.

In his third or fourth letter our pilgrim told us, with somewhat of

scorn, that the Marchesa Zorzi, who had in fact removed thither from

Padua, and had made friends with Ursula in the house of Filippo Polani,

had bidden him to wait on her, by one of her pages; yet might he

be proud--he said--of the high-handed and steadfast refusal he had

returned, once for all. In truth I was moved to deeper fears by what

both my brothers wrote of the black barges, loaded to the gunwale with

naked corpses, which stole along the canals in the silent night, to cast

forth their dreadful freight in the grave yards on the shore, or into

the open sea. The plague was raging nigh to the Fondaco, and my two

brothers were living in the midst of the dead; nay, and Ann knew that

Ursula would not depart from her lover, although the Palazzo Polani,

where she had found lodging, lay hard by the Fondaco.

Yet, hard as as it is to conceive of it, never had the music sounded

with noisier delights in the dancing-halls of Venice, nor had the money

been more lightly tossed from hand-to-hand over the gaming-tables, nor,

at any time, had there been hotter love-making. It must be that each one

was minded to enjoy, in the short space of life that might yet be his,

all the delights of long years.--And foremost of these was the Marchesa

Bianca Zorzi.

As for Herdegen, not long did he brook the narrow chambers of the

Fondaco-house; driven forth by impatience and heart-sickness, from

morning till night he was in his boat, or on the grand Piazza, or on the

watery highways; and inasmuch as he ever fluttered to where ladies of

rank and beauty were to be found, as a moth flies to the light, that

evil woman was ever in his path, day after day, and whensoever her hosts

would suffer it, Ursula would be with her. Nay, and the German maiden,

who had learned better things of the Carthusian sisters, was not ashamed

to aid and abet that sinful Italian woman. Thus my brother was in great

peril lest Ursula’s prophecy should be fulfilled by his own fault.

Indeed he already had his foot in the springe, inasmuch as that he could

not say nay to the Marchesa’s bidding that he would go to her house on

her name-day. It was a higher power that came betwixt them, vouchsafing

him merciful but grievous repentance; the plague, Death’s unwearied

executioner, snatched the fair, but sinful lady, from among the living.

Ursula lamented over her as though it were her own sister that had died;

and it seemed that the Marchesa was fain to keep up the bond that had

held them together even beyond the grave, for it was at her funeral that

the son of one of the oldest and noblest families of the Republic first

saw Mistress Ursula Tetzel, and was fired with love for the maiden. She

had many a time been seen abroad with the Marchesa, or with the Polanis,

and the young gentlemen of the Signoria, the painters, and the poets,

had marked her well; the natural golden hue of her hair was an amazement

and a delight to the Italians; indeed many a black-haired lady and

common hussy would sit on her roof vainly striving to take the color out

of her own locks. It was the same with her velvet skin, which even at

Nuremberg had many a time brought to men’s minds the maid in the tale of

“Snow-white and Rose-red.”

Thus it fell that Anselmo Guistiniani had heard of her during the

lifetime of his cousin the Marchesa Zorzi, while he was absent from

Venice on state matters. And when he beheld her with his own eyes among

the mourners, there was an end to his peace of heart; he forthwith set

himself to win her for his own. Howbeit Ursula met her noble suitor

with icy coldness, and when he and Herdegen came together at the Palazzo

Polani, where she was lodging, she made as though she saw my lord not at

all, and had no eyes nor ears save for my brother; till it was more

than Guistinani would bear, and he abruptly departed. Herdegen’s letter,

which told us all these things, was full of kindly pity for the fair and

hapless damsel who had demeaned herself so basely towards him, by reason

that her fiery love had turned her brain, and that she still was pining

for him to whom she had ever been faithful from her childhood up. She

had freely confessed as much even under the very eyes of so lordly

a suitor as Anselmo Giustiniani; and albeit Ann might be sure of his

constancy, even in despite of Ursula, yet would he not deny that he

could forgive Ursula much in that she had loved much, as the Scripture

saith. Every shadow of danger for him was gone and overpast; he had

already bid Ursula farewell, and was to ride forth next morning to

Genoa, leaving the plague-stricken city behind him, and would take

ship there. It was well indeed that he should be departing, inasmuch as

yestereve, when he bid Ursula good night, Giustiniani had given him

to understand that he, Herdegen, was in his way; at home he would have

shown his teeth, and with good right, to any man who had dared to speak

to him, but in Venice every man who lodged in the Fondaco was forbid the

use of weapons, and he had heard tell of Anselmo Giustiniani that he,

unlike the rest of his noble race, who were benevolent men and patrons

of learning, albeit he was a prudent statesman and serviceable to the

city, was a stern and violent man. This much in truth a man might read

in his gloomy black eyes; and many a stranger, for all he were noble and

a Knight, who had fallen out with a Venetian Signor of his degree had

vanished forever, none knew whither.

As we read these words the blood faded from Ann’s cheek; but I set my

teeth, for I may confess that Herdegen’s ways and words roused my wrath.

In Ann’s presence I could, to be sure, hide my ire; but when I was alone

I struck my right fist into my left hand and asked of myself whether a

man or a woman were the vainer creature? For what was it that still drew

my brother to that maid who had ever pursued him and the object of his

love with cruel hate--so strongly, indeed, that he would have been ready

to cherish and comfort her--but joy at finding himself--a mere townbred

Junker--preferred above that grand nobleman? For my part, I plainly saw

that Ursula was playing the same game again as she had carried on here

with Herdegen and the Brandenburger. She spoke the man she hated fair

before the jealous Marchese, only to rouse that potent noble’s fury

against my brother.

After all this my heart rejoiced when we received Herdegen’s first

letter written from Genoa, nay, on board of the galleon which was to

carry him, Sir Franz and Eppelein to Cyprus. In this he made known that

he had departed from Venice without let or hindrance, and he bid us

farewell with such good cheer, and love, and hope, that Ann and I forgot

and forgave with all our hearts everything that had made us wroth. This

last greeting came as a fragrant love-posy, and it helped us to think of

Herdegen’s long pilgrimage as he himself did--as of a ride forth to the

Forest. From this letter we were likewise aware that he had never known

what peril he had escaped; for ere long I learned from Kunz that paid

assassins had fallen on him the very next evening after Herdegen’s

departing, in the crooked street called of Saint Chrysostom, at the back

part of the German Merchants’ House; yea, and they would easily have

overpowered him but that certain great strong Tyrolese bale-packers of

the Fondaco came to his succor or ever it was too late. And it was right

certain that these murderers were in Giustiniani’s pay, and in the dusk

had taken Kunz for his brother, who was some what like him. The younger

had come off unharmed by the special mercy of the Saints, but it might

well have befallen that, as of old in his schooldays, he should have

borne the penalty for Herdegen’s misdoings. And whereas I mind me here

of the many ways in which my eldest brother prospered and got the best

of it over the younger, and of other like cases, meseems it is the lot

of certain few to suffer others, not their betters, to stand in their

sun, and eat the fruit that has ripened on their trees.

Howbeit, Herdegen had by good hap escaped a sharp fray; and when Ann and

I, kneeling side by side in Saint Laurence’s church, had offered up a

thanksgiving from the bottom of our hearts, meseemed we were as some

Captain who sings Te Deum after a victory.

Yet, as ofttimes in the month of May, when for a while the sun bath

shone with summer heat and glory, there comes a gloomy time with dark

days and sharp frost at nights, so did we deem the long space which

followed after that glad and pious church-going. Days grew to weeks and

weeks to months and we had no tidings, no word from our pilgrims, for

good or for evil.

Verily it was well-nigh a comfort and a help when those who were on the

look-out, Kunz and other friends, gave it as certain tidings that the

galleon which was carrying Herdegen to Cyprus, and which belonged to

the Lomellini of Genoa, had been lost at sea. Saracen pirates, so it was

told, had seized the ship; but further tidings were not to be got, as

to what had befallen the crew and the travellers, albeit Kunz forthwith

betook himself to Genoa and the Futterers, who had a house and trade of

their own there, did all they might to find their traces. The eldest

and the finest link of the Schopper chain had, we deemed, been snatched

away, peradventure for ever; the death of her lover had made life

henceforth bitter to the third and least, and only the middle one, Kunz,

remained unhurt and still such as it might have gladdened his parents’

hearts to behold him. Thus I deemed, at least, when after long parting I

set eyes on him once more, a goodly man, tall and of a fair countenance.

All that had ever been good and worthy in him had waxed and sped well

at Venice, that high school of the merchant class; but where was the

smiling mirthfulness which had marked him as a youth? The same earnest

calm shone in his wise and gentle gaze, and rang in the deep voice he

had now gotten.

My grand-uncle had esteemed him but lightly, so long as Herdegen was his

delight; but whereas Kunz had done good service at Venice and the master

of the Im Hoff house there was dead, and our guardian himself, on whom a

grievous sickness had fallen, gave himself up day and night to meet

his end, he had, little by little, given over the whole business of the

trade to his young nephew; thus it came to pass that Kunz, when he was

but just twenty, was called upon to govern matters such as are commonly

trusted only to a man of ripe years. But his power and wisdom grew with

the weight of his burthens. Whether it were at Nuremberg or at Venice,

he was ever early to rise and ready, if need should be, to give up his

night’s rest, sitting over his desk or travelling at great speed; and he

seemed to have no eyes nor ears for the pleasures of youth. Or ever he

was four and twenty I found the first white hair in his brown locks.

Many there were who deemed that the uncommon graveness of his manners

came of the weight of care which had been laid on him so young, and

verily not without reason; yet my sister’s heart was aware of another

cause. When I chanced to see his eye rest on Ann, I knew enough; and

it was a certainty that I had not erred in my thought, when old Dame

Pernhart one day in his presence spoke of Ann as her poor, dear little

widow, and the blood mounted to his brow.

I would fain have spoken a word of warning to Ann when she would thank

him with heartfelt and sisterly love for all the pains he had been at,

with steadfast patience, to find any token of our lost brother. And

how fair was the forlorn bride in these days of waiting and of weary

unsatisfied longing!

Poor Kunz! Doubtless he loved her; and yet he neither by word nor deed

gave her cause to guess his heart’s desire. When, at about this time,

old Hans Tucher died, one of the worthiest and wisest heads of the town

and the council, Kunz gave Ann for her name-day a prayer-book with the

old man’s motto, which he had written in it for Kunz’s confirmation,

which was as follows:

“God ruleth all things for the best

And sends a happy end at last.”

And Ann took the gift right gladly; and more than once when, after some

disappointment, my spirit sank, she would point to the promise “And

sends a happy end at last.”

Whereupon I would look up at her, abashed and put to shame; for it is

one thing not to despair, and another to trust with steadfast confidence

on a happy outcome. She, in truth, could do this; and when I beheld her

day by day at her laborious tasks, bravely and cheerfully fulfilling the

hard and bitter exercises which her father-confessor enjoined, to the

end that she might win the favor of the Saints for her lover, I weened

that the Apostle spake the truth when he said that love hopeth all

things and believeth all things.

Notwithstanding it was not easy to her, nor to us, to hold fast our

confidence; now and again some trace of the lost man would come to light

which, so soon as Kunz followed it up, vanished in mist like a jack-o’

lantern. And often as he failed he would not be overweary; and once,

when he was staying at Nuremberg and tidings came from Venice that a

certain German who might be Herdegen was dwelling a slave at Joppa,

he made ready to set forth for that place to ransom him forthwith. My

grand-uncle, who in the face of death was eagerly striving to win

the grace of Heaven by good works, suffered him to depart, and at my

entreaty he took my squire Akusch with him, inasmuch as he could still

speak Arabic, which was his mother-tongue. Likewise I besought Kunz to

make it his care to restore the lad to his people, if it should befall

that he might find them, albeit hitherto we had made enquiry for them

in vain. This he promised me to do; yet, often as that good youth had

longed to see his native land once more, and much as he had talked in

praise of its hot sun, in our cold winter seasons, it went hard with the

good lad to depart from us; and when he took leave of me he could not

cease from assuring me that in his own land he would do all that in him

lay to find the brother of his beloved mistress.

Thus they fared forth to the Levant; and this once again we were doomed

to vain hopes. Kunz found not him he sought, but a wild Swiss soldier

who had fallen into the hands of the Saracens. Him he ransomed, as being

a Christian man, for a small sum of money; and as for Akusch he left

him at Joppa, whereas his folk were Egyptians and he deemed he had found

some track of them there.

Kunz did not go thither with him, inasmuch as in Alexandria all had been

done that might be done to discover and ransom a Frankish captive. Nor

was Akusch idle there, and moreover fate had brought another child of

Nuremberg to that place.

Ursula had become the wife of the Marchese Anselmo Giustiniani, by

special favor of the great council, and had come with him to Egypt,

whither he was sent by the Republic as Consul. There she now dwelt with

her noble lord, and in many letters to my granduncle she warmly declared

to him that, so far as in her lay, all should be done to discover where

the lover of her youth might be. Her husband was the most powerful Frank

in all the Sultan’s dominions, and it was a joy to her to see with

what diligence he made search for the lost youth. Herdegen, indeed, had

ill-repaid her childish love, yet she knew of no nobler revenge than to

lay him under the debt of thanks to her and her husband for release and

ransom. These words doubtless came from the bottom of her heart; she

were no true woman if she could not forgive a man in misfortune for the

sins of a happier time. And above all she was ever of a rash and lawless

mind, and truthful even to the scorn of modesty and good manners, rather

than crafty and smooth of tongue.

Yet she likewise failed to find the vanished wanderer, and the weeks

and months grew to be years while we waited in vain. It was on the

twenty-second day of March in the second twelve month after Herdegen’s

departing that the treasures of the realm, and among them a nail from

the Cross and the point of the spear wherewith they pierced the Lord’s

side, were to be brought into the town in a solemn procession, and I,

with many others, rode forth to meet it. They were brought hither from

Blindenberg on the Danube, and the Emperor sent them in token of his

grace, that we might hold them in safe keeping within our strong walls.

They had been brought thus far right privily, under the feint that the

waggon wherein they were carried bore wine vats, and a great throng

gathered with shouts of joy to hail these precious things. Prisoners

were set free in honor of their coming; and for my own part I mind the

day full well, by reason that I put off my black mourning weed and went

forth in a colored holiday garb for the first time in a long while.

If I had, in truth, been able by good courage to shake off in due time

the oppressing weight of my grief, I owed it in no small measure to

the forest-whither we went forth, now as heretofore, to sojourn in the

spring and autumn seasons--and to its magic healing. How many a time

have I rested under its well-known trees and silently looked back on the

past. And, when I mind me of those days, I often ask myself whether the

real glad times themselves or those hours of calmer joy in remembrance

were indeed the better.

As I sat in the woods, thinking and dreaming, there was plenty for the

eye to see and the ear to hear. The clouds flew across in silence, and

the soft green at my feet, with all that grew on tree and bush, in

the grass, and by the brink of the pool, made up a peaceful world,

innocently fair and full of precious charm. Here there was nought to

remind me of the stir of mankind, with its haste and noise and fighting

and craving, and that was a delight; nor did the woodland sounds.--The

song of birds, the hum of chafers and bees, the whisper of leaves, and

all the rush and rustle of the forest were its mother-tongue.

Yet, not so! There was in truth one human soul of whom I was ever minded

while thinking and dreaming in these woods through whom I had first

known the joy of loving, and that was the youth whose home was here, for

whose return my aunt longed day and night, whose favorite songs I was

ever bidden to sing to my uncle when he would take the oars in

his strong old hands of an evening, and row us on the pool-he who

peradventure had long since followed my lover, and was dead in some

far-off land.

Ann, who was ever diligent, took less pleasure in idle dreaming; she

would ever carry a book or some broidery in her hand. Or she would abide

alone with my aunt; and whereas my aunt now held her to be her fellow in

sorrow, and might talk with her of the woe of thinking of the dearest

on earth as far away and half lost, they grew closer to each other, and

there was bitter grief when our duty took us back to the town once

more. At home likewise Herdegen was ever in our minds, nevertheless the

sunshine was as bright and the children’s faces as dear as heretofore,

and we could go about the tasks of the hour with fresh spirit.

If now and again grief cast a darker shade over Ann, still the star of

Hope shone with more comfort for her than for me and Cousin Maud; and it

was but seldom that you might mark that she had any sorrow. Truly there

were many matters besides her every-day duties, and her errands within

and without the house to beguile her of her fears for her lost lover.

First of all there came her stepfather’s brother, his Eminence Cardinal

Bernhardi--for to this dignity had his Holiness raised the Bishop--from

Rome to Nuremberg, where he lodged in the house of his fathers. Now this

high prelate was such a man as I never met the like of, and his goodly

face, beardless indeed, but of a manly brown, with its piercing, great

eyes, I weened was as a magic book, having the power to compel others,

even against their will, to put forth all that was in them of grace and

good gifts. Yet was he not grave nor gloomy, but of a happy cheer, and

ready to have his jest with us maidens; only in his jests there would

ever be a covert intent to arouse thought, and whensoever I quitted his

company I deemed I had profited somewhat in my soul.

He likewise vouchsafed the honor of knowing him to the Magister; and

whereas he brought tidings of certain Greek Manuscripts which had been

newly brought into Italy, Master Peter came home as one drunk with wine,

and could not forbear from boasting how he had been honored by having

speech with such a pearl among Humanists.

My lord Cardinal was right well pleased to see his home once more; but

what he loved best in it was Ann. Nay, if it had lain with him, he would

have carried her to Rome with him. But for all that she was fain to look

up to such a man with deep respect, and wait lovingly on his behests,

yet would she not draw back from the duty she had taken upon her to care

for her brothers and sisters, and chiefly for the deaf and dumb boy. And

she deemed likewise that she was as a watchman at his post; it was at

Nuremberg that all was planned for seeking Herdegen, and hither must the

first tidings come that could be had of him. The old grand dame also

was more than ever bound up in her, and so soon as my lord Cardinal

was aware that it would greatly grieve his old mother to lose her he

renounced his desire.

As for me, I was dwelling in a right happy life with Cousin Maud;

never had I been nearer to her heart. So long as she conceived that her

comforting could little remedy my woe, she had left me to myself; and as

soon as I was fain to use my hands again, and sing a snatch as I went

up and down the house, meseemed her old love bloomed forth with double

strength. Meseemed I could but show her my thankfulness, and my ear

and heart were at all times open when she was moved to talk of her

best-beloved Herdegen, and reveal to me all the wondrous adventures he

had gone through in her imagination. And this befell most evenings, from

the hour when we unclothed till long after we had gone to rest; and I

was fain to keep my eyes open while, for the twentieth time, she would

expound to me her far-fetched visions: that the Mamelukes of Egypt, who

were all slaves and whose Sultan was chosen from among themselves, had

of a surety set Herdegen on the throne, seeing him to be the goodliest

and noblest of them all. And perchance he would not have refused this

honor if he might thereby turn them from their heathenness and make of

them good Christians. Nay, nor was it hard for her to fancy Ann arrayed

in silk and gems as a Sultana. And then, when I fell asleep in listening

to these fancies, which she loved to paint in every detail, behold my

dreams would be of Turks and heathen; and of bloody battles by land and

sea.

No man may tell his dreams fasting; but as soon as I had eaten my first

mouthful she would bid me tell her all, to the veriest trifle, and would

solemnly seek the interpretation of every vision.

CHAPTER VIII.

My lord Cardinal had departed from Nuremberg some long while, by reason

that he was charged by his holiness the Pope with a mission which took

him through Cologne and Flanders to England. Inasmuch as he was not

suffered to have Ann herself in his company, he conceived the wish to

possess her likeness in a picture; and he sent hither to that end a

master of good fame, of the guild of painters in Venice. We owed this

good limner thanks for many a pleasant hour. Sir Giacomo Bellini was

a youth of right merry wit, knowing many Italian ditties, and who made

good pastime for us while we sat before him; for I likewise must be

limned, inasmuch as Cousin Maud would have it so, and the painter’s eye

was greatly pleased by my yellow hair.

Whereas he could speak never a word of German, it was our part to talk

with him in Italian, and this exercise to me came not amiss. Also I

could scarce have had a better master to teach me than Giacomo Bellini,

who set himself forthwith to win my heart and turn my head; nay, and he

might have done so, but that he confessed from the first that he had a

fair young wife in Venice, albeit he was already craving for some new

love.

Thus through him again I learned how light a touch is needed to

overthrow a man’s true faith; and when I minded me of Herdegen and

Ann, and of this Giacomo--who was nevertheless a goodly and well-graced

man--and his young wife, meseemed that the woman who might win the love

of a highly-gifted soul must ofttimes pay for that great joy with much

heaviness and heartache.

Howbeit, I mind me in right true love of the mirthful spirit and

manifold sportiveness which marked our fellowship with the Italian

limner; and after that I had once given him plainly and strongly to

understand that the heart of a Nuremberg damsel was no light thing or

plaything, and her very lips a sanctuary which her husband should one

day find pure, all went well betwixt us.

The picture of Ann, the first he painted, showed her as Saint Cecelia

hearkening to music which sounds from Heaven in her ears. Two sweet

angel babes floated on thin clouds above her head, singing hymns to a

mandoline and viol. Thus had my lord Cardinal commanded, and the work

was so excellent that, if the Saint herself vouchsafed to look down on

it out of Heaven, of a certainty it was pleasing in her eyes.

As to mine own presentment; at first I weened that I would be limned in

my peach-colored brocade gown with silver dolphins thereon, by reason

that I had worn that weed in the early morn after the dance, when Hans

spoke his last loving farewell at the door of our house. But whereas one

cold day I went into Master Giacomo’s work-chamber in a red hood and a

green cloak bordered with sable fur, he would thenceforth paint me in

no other guise. At first he was fain to present me as going forth to

church; then he deemed that he might not show forth my very look and

seeming if I were limned with downcast head and eyes. Therefor he gave

me the falcon on my hand which had erewhile been my lover’s gift. My

eyes were set on the distance as though I watched for a heron; thus I

seemed in truth like one hunting--“chaste Diana,” quoth the painter,

minding him of the reproofs I had given him so often. But it would be a

hard task to tell of all the ways whereby the painter would provoke me

to reprove him. When the likeness was no more than half done, he painted

his own merry face to the falcon on my wrist gazing up at me with silly

languor. Thereupon, when he presently quitted us, I took the red chalk

and wrote his wife’s name on a clear place in front of the face and

beneath it the image of a birch rod; and on the morrow he brought with

him a right pleasant Sonnet, which I scarce had pardoned had he not

offered it so humbly and read it in so sweet a voice. And, being plainly

interpreted, it was as follows:

“Upon Olympus, where the gods do dwell

Who with almighty will rule earth and heaven,

Lo! I behold the chiefest of them all

Jove, on his throne with Juno at his side.

A noble wedded pair. In all the world

The eye may vainly seek nor find their like.

The nations to his sanctuary throng,

And kings, struck dumb, cast down their golden crowns.

“Yet even these are not for ever one.

The god flies from the goddess.--And a swan

Does devoir now, the slave of Leda’s charms.

“Thus I behold the beams of thy bright eye,

And bid my home farewell,--I, hapless wight,

Fly like the god, fair maid, to worship thee!”

Albeit I suffered him to recite these lines to the end I turned from him

with a countenance of great wrath, and tore the paper whereon they were

writ in two halves which I flung behind the stove. Nor did I put away

my angry and offended mien until he had right humbly besought my

forgiveness. Yet when I had granted it, and he presently quitted the

chamber, I did, I confess, gather up the torn paper and bestow it in my

girdle-poke. Nay, meseems that I had of intent rent it only in twain, to

the end that I might the better join it again. Thus to this day it lieth

in my chest, with other relics of the past; yet I verily believe that

another Sonnet, which Sir Giacomo found on the morrow, laid on his

easel, was not so treasured by him. It was thus:

“There was one Hans, and he was fain to try,

Like to Olympian Jove, the magic arts

Of witchcraft upon some well-favored maid.

Bold the adventure, but the prize how sweet!

‘Farewell, good wife,’ quoth he, ‘Or e’er the dawn

Hath broke I must be forward on my way.

Like Jupiter I will be blessed and bless

With love; and in the image of a swan.’

“The magic spell hath changed him. With a wreath

About his head he deems he lacketh nought

Of what may best beguile a maiden’s soul.

“Thus to fair Leda flies the hapless wight.--

With boisterous mirth the dame beholds the bird.

‘A right fine goose! Thou’lt make a goodly roast.’”

Howbeit Giacomo would not leave this verse without reply; and to this

day, if you look close into the picture, you may see a goose’s head

deep in shade among the shrubs in the back part of it, but clearly to be

discerned.

Notwithstanding many such little quarrels we liked each other well, and

I may here note that when, in the following year, which was the year of

our Lord one thousand four hundred and twenty-six, a little son was

born to him, since grown to be a right famous painter, known as

Giambellini--which is to say Giovanni, or Hans, Bellini, I, Margery

Schopper, stood his sponsor at the font. Yea and I was ever a true

godsib to him, and that painter might indeed thank my kith and kin when

he was charged with a certain office in the Fondaco in Venice, which is

worth some hundreds of ducats yearly to him, to this day.

Thus were the portraits ended, and when I behold my own looking from

the wide frame with so mirthful and yet so longing a gaze, meseems that

Giacomo must have read the book of my soul and have known right well

how to present that he saw therein; at that time in truth I was a happy

young creature, and the aching and longing which would now and again

come over me, in part for him who was gone, and in part I wist not for

what, were but the shadow which must ever fall where there is light.

And verily I had good cause to be thankful and of good cheer; I was in

health as sound as a trout in the brook, and had good chances for making

the most of those humble gifts and powers wherewith I was blessed.

As to Herdegen, it was no small comfort to us to learn that my lord

Cardinal Bernhardi had taken that matter in hand, and had bidden all the

priests and friars in the Levant to make enquiry for tidings of him.

The good prelate was to be nine months journeying abroad, and whereas

five months were now spent we were rejoicing in hope of his homecoming;

but there was one in Nuremberg who looked for it even more eagerly than

we did, and that was my grand-uncle Im Iloff. The old knight had, as

I have said, done us thank-worthy service as our guardian; yet had he

never been dear to me, and I could not think of him but with silent

wrath. Howbeit he was now in so sad and cruel a plight that a heart of

stone must have melted to behold him. Thus pity led me to him, although

it was a penance to stay in his presence. The old Baron,--for of this

title likewise he could boast, since he had poured a great sum into the

Emperor’s treasury,--this old man, who of yore had but feigned a false

and evil show of repentance--as that he would on certain holy days wash

the feet of beggar folk who had first been cleansed with care, now in

sickness and the near terror of death was in terrible earnest, and of

honest intent would fain open the gates of Heaven by pious exercises.

He had to be sure at the bidding of Master Ulsenius the leech, exchanged

the coffin wherein he had been wont to sleep for a common bedstead of

wood; yet in this even he might get no rest, and was fain to pass his

sleepless nights in his easy chair, resting his aching feet in a cradle

which, with his wonted vain-glory, he caused to be made of the shape

and color of a pearl shell. But his nights in the coffin, and mockery

of death, turned against him; he had ever been pale, and now he wore the

very face of a corpse. The blood seemed frozen in his veins, and he was

at all times so cold that the great stove and the wide hearth facing him

were fed with mighty logs day and night.

In this fearful heat the sweat stood on my brow so soon as I crossed

the threshold, and if I tarried in the chamber I soon lacked breath.

The sick man’s speech was scarce to be heard, and as to all that Master

Ulsenius told us of the seat of his ill, and of how it was gnawing him

to death I would fain be silent. Instead of that Lenten mockery of the

foot washing he now would do the hardest penance, and there was scarce a

saint in the Calendar to whom he had not offered gifts or ever he died.

A Dominican friar was ever in his chamber, telling the rosary for him

and doing him other ghostly service, especially in the night season,

when he was haunted by terrible restlessness. Nothing eased him as a

remedy against this so well as the presence of a woman to his mind. But

of all those to whom, on many a Christmas eve, he had made noble gifts,

few came a second time after they had once been in that furnace; or, if

they did, it would be no more than to come and depart forthwith. Cousin

Maud could endure to stay longest with him; albeit afterwards she would

need many a glass of strong waters to strengthen her heart.

As for me, each time when I came home from my grand-uncle’s with pale

cheeks she would forbid me ever to cross his threshold more: but when

his bidding was brought me she likewise was moved to compassion, and

suffered me to obey.

Nevertheless, if I had not been more than common strong, thank the

Saints, long sitting with the sick man would of a certainty have done me

a mischief, for body and soul had much to endure. Meseemed that pain had

loosened the tongue of that hitherto wordless old man, and whereas he

had ever held his head high above all men, he would now abase himself

before the humblest. He would stay any man or woman who would tarry, to

tell of all his sufferings, and of what he endured in mind and body.

His confessor had indeed forbidden him to complain of the evil wherewith

Heaven had punished him, but none could hinder him from bewailing

the evil he had committed in his sinfulness and vanity. And his

self-accusings were so manifold and fearful, that I was fain to believe

his declaration that all he had ever thought or done that was good was,

as it were, buried; and that nought but the ill he had suffered and

committed was left and still had power over him. The death-stroke he had

dealt all unwittingly, in heedless passion, rose before his soul day and

night as an accursed and bloody deed; and every moment embittered by his

wife’s unfaith, even to the last hour when, on her death-bed, she cursed

him, he lived through again, night after night. Whereupon he would

clasp his thin hands, through which you might see the light, over his

tear-stained face and would not be still or of better cheer till I could

no longer hide my own great grief for him.

Howbeit, when I had heard the same tale again and again it ceased from

touching me so deeply; so that at last, instead of such deep compassion,

it moved me only to dull gloom and, I will confess, to unspeakable

weariness. The tears came not to my eyes, and the only use for my

kerchief was to hide my yawning and vinaigrette. Thus it fell that the

old penitent took no pleasure in my company, and at last weeks might

pass while he bid me not to his presence.

Now, when the pictures were ended, whereas he heard that they were right

good likenesses, and moreover was told that my lord Cardinal was minded

to come home within no long space, he fell into a strange tumult and

desired to behold those pictures both of me and of Ann. At this

I marvelled not: he had long since learned to think of Councillor

Pernbart’s step-daughter in all kindness; nay, he had desired me to beg

her to forgive a dying old man. We were well-disposed to do his will,

and the Pernharts no less; on a certain Wednesday the pictures were

carried to his house, and on the morrow, being Thursday, I would go and

know whether he were content. And behold my likeness was set in a corner

where he scarce could see it; but that of Ann was face to face with him

and, as I entered the chamber, his eyes were fixed thereon as though

ravished by the vision of a Saint from Heaven. And he was so lost in

thought that he looked not away till the Dominican Brother spoke to him.

Thereupon he hastily greeted me, and went on to ask of me whether I duly

minded that he had been a faithful and thankworthy guardian. And when I

answered yes he whispered to me, with a side-look at the friar, that of

a surety my lord Cardinal must hold Ann full dear, if he would bid

so famous a master to Nuremberg that he might possess her image. Now

inasmuch as I wist not yet to what end he sought to beguile me by these

questions, I confirmed his words with all prudence; and then he glanced

again at the monk, and whispered hastily in my ear, and so low that I

scarce might hear him:

“That fellow is privily drinking up all my old Cyprus wine and

Malvoisie. And the other priests, the Plebian here--do you know their

worldly and base souls? They take up no cross, neither mortify the flesh

by holy fasting, but cherish and feed it as the lost heathen do. Are

they holy men following in the footsteps of the Crucified Lord? All that

brings them to me is a care for my oblations and gifts. I know them, I

know them all, the whole lot of them here in Nuremberg. As the city

is, so are the pastors thereof! Which of them all mortifies himself? Is

there any high court held here? To win the blessing of a truly lordly

prelate, a man must journey to Bamberg or to Wurzburg. Of what avail

with the Blessed Virgin and the Saints are such as these ruddy friars?

Fleischmann, Hellfeld, nay the Dominican prior himself--what are they?

Why, at the Diet they walked after the Bishop of Chiemsee and Eichstadt.

In the matters of the city--its rights, alliances, and dealings--they

had indeed a hand; there is nought so dear to them--in especial to

Fleischmann--as politics, and they are overjoyed if they may but be sent

on some embassy. Aye, and they have done me some service, as a merchant

trader, whensoever I have desired the safe conduct of princes and

knights; but as to charging them with the safe conduct of my soul, the

weal or woe of my immortal spirit!--No, no, never! Aye, Margery, for I

have been a great sinner. Greater power and more mighty mediation are

needed to save and deliver me, and behold, my Margery, meseems--hear

me Margery--meseems a special ruling of Heaven hath sent.... When is it

that his Eminence Cardinal Bernhardi will return from England?”

Hereupon I saw plainly what was in the wind. I answered him that his

Eminence purposed to return hither in three or four months’ time; he

sighed deeply: “Not for so long--three months, do you say?”

“Or longer,” quoth I, hastily; but he, forgetting the Friar, cried out

as though he knew better than I “No, no, in three months. So you said.”

Then he spoke low again, and went on in a confident tone: “So long as

that I can hold out, by the help of the Saints, if I.... Yea, for I have

enough left to make some great endowment. My possessions, Margery,

the estate which is mine own--No man can guess what a well-governed

trading-house may earn in half a century.--Yes, I tell you, Margery, I

can hold out and wait. Two, or at most three months; they will soon slip

away. The older we grow and the duller is life, the swifter do the days

fly.”

And verily I had not the heart to tell him that he might have to take

much longer patience, and, whereas I noted how hard he found it to speak

out that which weighed on his mind, I gave him such help as I might;

and then he freely confessed that what he most desired on earth was

to receive absolution and the Viaticum from the hands of the Cardinal.

Meseemed he believed that his Eminence’s prayers would serve him better

in Heaven than those of our simple priests, who had not even gained

a bishop’s cope; just as the good word of a Prince Elector gains the

Emperor’s ear sooner than the petition of a town councillor. Likewise

it soothed his pride, doubtless, to think that he might turn his back on

this world under the good guidance of a prelate in the purple. Hereupon

I promised that his case should be brought to the Cardinal’s knowledge

by Ann, and then he gave me to understand that it was his desire that

Ann should come to see him, inasmuch as that her presentment only had

brought him more comfort than the strongest of Master Ulsenius’ potions.

He could not be happy to die without her forgiveness, and without

blessing her by hand and word.

And he pointed to my likeness, and said that, albeit it was right well

done, he could bear no more to see it; that it looked forth so full of

health and hope, that to him it seemed as though it mocked his misery,

and he straitly desired me to send Ann to him forthwith; the Saints

would grant her a special grace for every hour she delayed not her

coming.

Thereupon I departed; Ann was ready to do the dying man’s bidding, and

when I presently went with her into his presence he gazed on her as he

had on her portrait, as it were bewitched by her person and manners; and

ever after, if she were absent for more than a day or two, he bid her

come to him, with prayers and entreaties. And he found means to touch

her heart as he had mine; yet, whereas I, ere long, wearied of his

complaining, Ann’s compassion failed not; instead of yawning and being

helpless to comfort him, she with great skill would turn his thoughts

from himself and his sufferings.

Then they would often talk of Herdegen, and of how to come upon some

trace of him, and whereas the old man had in former days left such

matters to other folks, he now showed a right wise and keen experience

in counselling the right ways and means. Hitherto he had trusted to

Ursula’s good words and commended us to the same confidence; now,

however, he remembered on a sudden how ill-disposed she had ever been

to my lost brother, and whereas it was the season of the year when the

trading fleet should set sail from Venice for Alexandria in the land

of Egypt, he sent forth a messenger to Kunz, charging him to take ship

himself and go thither to seek his brother. This filled Ann and me

likewise with fresh hope and true thankfulness. Yet, in truth, as for

my grand-uncle, he owed much to Ann; her mere presence was as dew on his

withered heart, and the hope she kept alive in him, that her uncle, my

lord Cardinal, would ere long reach home and gladly fulfil his desires,

gave him strength and will to live on, and kept the feeble spark of life

burning.

CHAPTER IX.

The month of October had come; the Forest claimed us once more, and

indeed at that season I was needed at the Forest lodge. A pressing

bidding had likewise come to Ann; yet, albeit her much sitting in my

grand-uncle’s hot chamber had been visited on her with many a headache,

she had made her attendance on him one of her duties and nought could

move her to be unfaithful.

Moreover, it was known to us that by far the greater half of the

Venetian galleons had sailed from the Lido between the 8th and 25th

of the past month, and were due to be at home again by the middle of

October or early in November. A much lesser fleet went forth from Venice

late in the year and came to anchor there again, loaded with spices, in

the month of March or not later than April. Hence now was the time when

we might most surely look for tidings from the Levant, and Ann would not

be out of the way in case any such might come to Nuremberg.

I rode forth on Saint Dionysius’ day, the 9th day of October, alone with

Cousin Maud; other guests were not long in following us and among them

my brothers-in-law and the young Loffelholz pair; Elsa Ebner having wed,

some months since, with young Jorg Loffelholz.

Uncle Christian would come later and, if she would consent, would bring

Ann with him, for he held himself bound to give his “little watchman”

some fresh air. Also he was a great friend in the Pernharts’ house,

and aught more happy and pleasant than his talks with the old Dame can

scarce be conceived of.

Never had the well-beloved home in the Forest been more like to a pigeon

cote. Every day brought us new guests, many of them from the city;

still, none had any tidings yet of the Venice ships or of our Kunz, who

should come home with them. And at this my heart quaked for fear, in

despite of the hunting-sports, and of many a right merry supper; and

Aunt Jacoba was no better. The weeks flew past, the red and yellow

leaves began to fall, the scarlet berries of the mountain ash were

shrivelled, and the white rime fell of nights on the meadows and

moor-land.

One day I had ridden forth with my Uncle Conrad, hawking, and when we

came home in the dusk I could add a few birds to the gentlemen’s booty.

All the guests at that time present were standing in the courtyard

talking, many a one lamenting or boasting of the spite or favor of Saint

Hubert that day, when the hounds, who were smelling about the game,

suddenly uplifted their voices, and the gate-keeper’s horn blew a merry

blast, as though to announce some right welcome guest.

The housekeeper’s face was seen at Aunt Jacoba’s window, and so soon

as tidings were brought of who it as that came, the dog-keeper’s

whips hastily silenced the hounds and drove them into the kennel. The

serving-men carried off the game, and when the courtyard was presently

cleared, behold, a strange procession came in.

First a long wain covered in by a tilt so high I trove that meseemed

many a town gate might be over low to let it pass; and it was drawn

by four right small little horses, with dark matted coats and bright,

wilful eyes. A few hounds of choice breed ran behind it. From within the

hangings came a sharp, shrill screaming as were of many gaudy parrots.

In front of this waggon two men rode, unlike in stature and mien, and

a loutish fellow led the horses. Now, we all knew this wain right well.

Heretofore, in the life-time of old Lorenz Waldstromer, the father of my

Uncle Conrad, it had been wont to come hither once or twice a year,

and was ever made welcome; if it should happen to come in the month of

August it was at that season filled with noble falcons, to be placed

on Board ships at Venice, inasmuch as the Sultan of Egypt and his Emirs

were so fain to buy them that they would give as much as a hundred and

fifty sequins for he finest and best.

Old Jordan Kubbeling of Brunswick, the father of he man who had now come

hither, was wont to send the birds to Alexandria by the hand of dealers,

to sell them for him there; but his son Seyfried, who was to this day

called Young Kubbeling, albeit he was nigh on sixty, would carry his

feathered wares thither himself. Verily he was not suffered to sell any

other goods in the land, inasmuch as the Republic set strait bounds to

the dealings of German traders. If such an one would have aught from

the Levant he may get it only through the Merchants’ Hall or Fondaco in

Venice; and much less is a German suffered to carry his wares, of what

kind soever, out of Venice into the East, inasmuch as every German

trader is bound to sell by the hand of the syndicate all which his

native land can produce or make in Venice itself. And in no other wise

may a German traffic in any matters, great or small, with the Venice

traders; and all this is done that the Republic may lose nought of the

great taxes they set on all things.

As to Seyfried Kubbeling, the great Council, by special grace, and

considering that none but he could carry his birds over seas in good

condition, had granted to him to go with them to the land of Egypt.

For many and many a year had the Kubbelings brought falcons to the

Waldstromers, and whensoever my uncle needed such a bird, or if he had

to provide one for our lord constable and prince elector the Duke of

Bavaria, or any other great temporal or spiritual prince, it was to be

had from Seyfried--or Young Kubbeling. To be sure no man better knew

where to choose a fine bird, and while he journeyed between Brunswick,

Italy, and the Levant, his sons and brothers went as far as to Denmark,

and from thence to Iceland in the frozen Seas, where the royal falcon

breeds. Yet are there right noble kinds likewise to be found in the Harz

mountains, nigh to their native country.

The man who was ever Kubbeling’s fellow, going with him to the Levant

now, as, erewhile to the far North, was Uhlwurm, who, albeit he had been

old Jordan’s serving-man, was held by Seyfried as his equal; and

whoso would make one his guest must be fain to take the other into the

bargain. This was ever gladly done at the Forest-lodge; Uhlwurm was a

man of few words, and the hunting-lads and kennel-men held him to be a

wise man, who knew more than simply which side his bread was buttered.

At any rate he was learned in healing all sick creatures, and in

especial falcons, horses, and hounds, by means of whispered spells, the

breath of his mouth, potions, and electuaries; and I myself have seen

him handle a furious old she-wolf which had been caught in a trap, so

that no man dared go nigh her, as though it were a tame little dog. He

was taller than his master by a head and a half, and he was ever to be

seen in a hood, on which an owl’s head with its beak and ears was set.

Verily the whole presence of the man minded me of that nightbird;

and when I think of his Master Seyfried, or Young Kubbeling, I often

remember that he was ever wont to wear three wild-cats’ skins, which he

laid on his breast and on each leg, as a remedy against pains he had.

And the falcon-seller, who was thick-set and broad-shouldered, was in

truth not unlike a wild-cat in his unkempt shagginess, albeit free

from all craft and guile. His whole mien, in his yellow leather jerkin

slashed with green, his high boots, and ill-shaven face covered with

short, grey bristles, was that of a woodsman who has grown strange to

man in the forest wilds; howbeit we knew from many dealings that he was

honest and pitiful, and would endure hard things to be serviceable and

faithful to those few whom he truly loved.

All the creatures he brought with him were for sale; even the Iceland

ponies, which he but seldom led home again, by reason that they were in

great favor with the Junkers and damsels of high degree in the castles

where he found shelter; and my uncle believed that his profits and

savings must be no small matter.

Scarce had Kubbeling and his fellow entered the court-yard, when the

house wife appeared once more at my aunt’s window, and bid him come up

forthwith to her mistress. But the Brunswicker only replied roughly and

shortly: “First those that need my help.” And he spoke thus of a wounded

man, whom he had picked up, nigh unto death, by the road-side. While,

with Uhlwurm’s help, he carefully lifted the youth from under the

tilt, my uncle, who had long been hoping for his advent, gave him a

questioning look. The other understood, and shook his head sadly to

answer him No. And then he busied himself with the stricken man, as he

growled out to my uncle: “I crossed the pond to Alexandria, but of your

man--you know who--not a claw nor a feather. As to the Schopper brothers

on the other hand.... But first let us try to get between this poor

fellow and the grave. Hold on, Uhlwurm!” And he was about to lift the

sick man in doors. Howbeit, I went up to the Brunswicker, who in his

rough wise had ever liked me well, and whereas meseemed he had seen my

brothers, I besought him right lovingly to give me tidings of them; but

he only pointed to the helpless man and said that such tidings as he had

to give I should hear only too soon; and this I deemed was so forbidding

and so dismal that I made up my mind to the worst; nay, and my fears

waxed all the greater as he laid his big hand on my sleeve, as it might

be to comfort me, inasmuch as that he had never yet done this save when

he heard tell of my Hans’ untimely end.

And then, since he would have none of my help in attending on the sick

man, I ran up to my aunt to tell her with due care of the tidings I had

heard; but my uncle had gone before me, and in the doorway I could see

that he had just kissed his beloved wife’s brow. I could read in both

their faces that they were bereft of another hope, yet would my aunt go

below and herself speak with Young Kubbeling. My uncle would fain have

hindered her, but she paid no heed to his admonitions, and while her

tiring-woman arrayed her with great care to appear at table, she thanked

the saints for that Ann was far away on this luckless day.

Thus the hours sped between our homecoming from the chase and the

evening meal, and we presently met all our guests in the refectory. Aunt

Jacoba, as was her wont, sat on her couch on which she was carried,

at the upper end of the table near the chimneyplace, next to which a

smaller table was spread, where Kubbeling and Uhlwurm took their seats

as though they had never sat elsewhere in their lives; and in truth old

Jordan had taken his meals in that same place, and whenever they came

to the Lodge the serving people knew right well what was due to them and

their fellows. And whereas they did not sit at the upper table, it

was only by reason that old Jordan, sixty years ago, had deemed it a

burthensome honor, and more than his due; and Young Kubbeling would in

all things do as his father had done before him. My seat was where I

might see them, and an empty chair stood between me and my aunt; this

was left for Master Ulsenius, the leech. This good man loved not to ride

after dark, by reason of highway robbers and plunderers, and some of us

were somewhat ill at ease at his coming so late. Notwithstanding this,

the talk was not other than cheerful; new guests had come to us from

the town at noon, and they had much to tell. Tidings had come that

the Sultan of Egypt had fallen upon the Island of Cyprus, and that the

Mussulmans had beaten King Janus, who ruled over it, and had carried him

beyond seas in triumph to Old Cairo, a prisoner and loaded with chains.

Hereupon we were instructed by that learned man, Master Eberhard

Windecke, who was well-read in the history of all the world--he had come

to Nuremberg as a commissioner of finance from his Majesty, and Uncle

Tucher had brought him forth to the Forest--he, I say, instructed us

that the forefather of this King Janus of Cyprus had seized upon the

crown of Jerusalem at the time of the crusades, during the lifetime of

the mighty Sultan Saladin, by poison and perjury, and had then bartered

it with the English monarch Richard Coeur de lion, in exchange for

the Kingdom of Cyprus. That ancestor of King Janus was by name Guy de

Lusignan, and the sins of the fathers, so Master Windecke set forth with

flowers of eloquence, were ever visited on the children, unto the third

and fourth generation.

I, like most of the assembled company, had hearkened with due respect to

this discourse; yet had I not failed to note with what restless eyes

my aunt watched the two men when, after hardly staying their hunger

and thirst, they forthwith quitted the hall to tend the sick man; she

truly--as I would likewise--would rather have heard some present tidings

than this record of sins of the Lusignans dead and gone. Presently the

two men came back to their seats, and when Master Windecke, who, in

speaking, had forgotten to eat, fell to with double good will, Uncle

Conrad gravely bid Kubbeling to out with what he had to say; and yet the

man, who was lifting the leg of a black-cock to his mouth, would reply

no more than a rough, “All in good time, my lord.”

Thus we had to wait; nor was it till the Brunswicker had cracked his

last nut with his strong teeth, and the evening cup had been brought

round, that he broke silence and told us in short, halting sentences how

he had sailed from Venice to Alexandria in the land of Egypt, and all

that had befallen his falcons. Then he stopped, as one who has ended his

tale, and Uhlwurm said in a deep voice, and with a sweep of his hand as

though to clear the crumbs from the table “Gone!”--And that “Gone” was

well-nigh the only word that ever I heard from the lips of that strange

old man. As he went on with his tale Kubbeling made free with the wine,

and albeit it had no more effect on him than clear water, still meseemed

he talked on for his own easement; only when he told how and where he

had vainly sought the banished Gotz he looked grievously at my aunt’s

face. And Kunz, who had crossed the sea in the same ship with him, had

helped him in that search.

When I then asked him whether Kunz had not likewise come home with him

to Venice, and Kubbeling had answered me no, Uhlwurm said once more, or

ever his master had done speaking, “Gone!” in his deep, mournful voice,

and again swept away crumbs, as it might be, in the air. Hereupon so

great a fear fell upon me that meseemed a sharp steel bodkin was being

thrust into my heart; but Kubbeling had seen me turn pale, and he turned

upon Uhlwurm in high wrath, and to the end that I might take courage he

cried: “No, no, I say no. What does the old fool know about it! It is

only by reason that the galley tarried for Junker Schopper and weighed

anchor half a day later, that he forbodes ill. The delay was not needed.

And who can tell what young masters will be at? They get a fancy in

their green young heads, and it must be carried out whether or no. He

swore to me with a high and solemn oath that he would not rest till he

had found some trace of his brother, and if he kept the galleon waiting

for that reason, what wonder? Is it aught to marvel at? And you,

Mistress Margery, have of a surety known here in the Forest whither a

false scent may lead.--Junker Kunz! Whither he may have gone to seek

his brother, who can tell? Not I, and much less Uhlwurm. And young folks

flutter hither and thither like an untrained falcon; and if Master Kunz,

who is so much graver and wiser than others of his green youth, finds

no one to open his eyes, then he may--I do not say for certain, but

peradventure, for why should I frighten you all?--he may, I say, hunt

high and low to all eternity. The late Junker Herdegen....”

And again I felt that sharp pang through my heart, and I cried in the

anguish of my soul: “The late Junker--late Junker, did you say? How came

you to use such a word? By all you hold sacred, Kubbeling, torture me no

more. Confess all you know concerning my elder brother!”

This I cried out with a quaking voice, but all too soon was I speechless

again, for once more that dreadful “Gone!” fell upon my ear from

Uhlwurm’s lips.

I hid my face in my hands, and sitting thus in darkness, I heard the

bird-dealer, in real grief now, repeat Uhlwurm’s word of ill-omen:

“Gone.” Yet he presently added in a tone of comfort: “But only

perchance--not for certain, Mistress Margery.”

Albeit he was now willing to tell more, he was stopped in the very act.

Neither he nor I had seen that some one had silently entered the hall

with my Uncle Christian and Master Ulsenius, had come close to us, and

had heard Uhlwurm’s and Kubbeling’s last words. This was Ann; and, as

she answered to the Brunswicker “I would you were in the right with that

‘perchance’. How gladly would I believe it!” I took my hands down from

my face, and behold she stood before me in all her beauty, but in deep

mourning black, and was now, as I was, an unwedded widow.

I ran to meet her, and now, as she clung to me first and then to my

aunt, she was so moving a spectacle that even Uhlwurm wiped his wet

cheeks with his finger-cloth. All were now silent, but Young Kubbeling

ceased not from wiping the sweat of anguish from his brow, till at last

he cried: “‘Perchance’ was what I said, and ‘perchance’ it still shall

be; aye, by the help of the Saints, and I will prove it....”

At this Ann uplifted her bead, which she had hidden in my aunt’s bosom,

and Cousin Maud let drop her arms in which she held me clasped. The

learned Master Windecke made haste to depart, as he could ill-endure

such touching matters, while Uncle Conrad enquired of Ann what she had

heard of Herdegen’s end.

Hereupon she told us all in a low voice that yestereve she had received

a letter from my lord Cardinal, announcing that he had evil tidings from

the Christian brethren in Egypt. She was to hold herself ready for the

worst, inasmuch as, if they were right, great ill had befallen him.

Howbeit it was not yet time to give up all hope, and he himself would

never weary of his search: Young Kubbeling, who had meanwhile sent

Uhlwurm with the leech to see the sick man and then taken his seat again

with the wine-cup before him, had nevertheless kept one ear open, and

had hearkened like the rest to what Ann had been saying; then on a

sudden he thrust away his glass, shook his big fist in wrath, and cried

out, to the door, as it were, through which Uhlwurm had departed, “That

croaker, that death-watch, that bird of ill-omen! If he looks up at

an apple-tree in blossom and a bird is piping in the branches, all he

thinks of is how soon the happy creature will be killed by the cat!

‘Gone! gone’ indeed; what profits it to say gone! He has befogged even

my brain at last with his black vapors. But now a light shines within

me; and lend me an ear, young Mistress, and all you worshipful lords and

ladies; for I said ‘perchance’ and I mean it still.”

We listened indeed; and there was in his voice and mien a confidence

which could not fail to give us heart. My lord Cardinal’s assurance that

we were not to rest satisfied with the evil tidings he had received,

Kubbeling had deemed right, and what was right was to him a fact.

Therefore had he racked his brain till the sweat stood on his brow, and

all he had ever known concerning Herdegen had come back to his mind and

this he now told us in his short, rude way, which I should in vain try

to set down.

He said that, since the day when they had landed in Egypt, he had

never more set eyes on Kunz, but that he himself had made enquiry for

Herdegen. Anselmo Giustiniani was still the Republic’s consul there, and

lodging at the Venice Fondaco with Ursula his wife; but the serving men

had said that they had never heard of Schopper of Nuremberg; nor was it

strange that Kunz’s coming should be unknown to them, inasmuch as, to be

far from Ursula, he had found hospitality with the Genoese and not with

the Venetians. When, on the eve of sailing for home, the Brunswicker had

again waited on the authorities at the Fondaco, to procure his leave

to depart and fetch certain moneys he had bestowed there, he had met

Mistress Ursula; and whereas she knew him and spoke to him, he seized

the chance to make enquiry concerning Herdegen. And it was from her

mouth, and from none other, that he had learned that the elder Junker

Schopper had met a violent death; and, when he had asked where and how,

she had answered him that it was in one of those love-makings which were

ever the aim and business of his life. Thus he might tell all his kith

and kin in Nuremberg henceforth to cease their spying and prying, which

had already cost her more pains and writing than enough.

This discourse had but ill-pleased Kubbeling, yet had he not taken it

amiss, and had only said that she would be doing Kunz--who had come to

Egypt with him--right good service, if she would give him more exact

tidings of how his brother had met his end.

“Whereupon,” said the bird-seller, “she gave me a look the like of which

not many could give; for inasmuch as the lady is, for certain, over eyes

and ears in love with Junker Kunz....”

But I stopped him, and said that in this he was of a certainty mistaken;

Howbeit he laughed shortly and went on. “Which of us saw her? I or you?

But love or no love--only listen till the end. Mistress Ursula for sure

knew not till then that Junker Kunz was in Alexandria, and so soon as

she learnt it she began to question me. She must know the day and hour

when he had cast anchor there, wherefor he had chosen to lodge in the

Genoa Fondaco, when I last had seen him, nay, and of what stuff and

color his garments were made. She went through them all, from the

feather in his hat to his hose. As for me, I must have seemed well nigh

half witted, and I told her at last that I had no skill in such matters,

but that I had ever seen him of an evening in a white mantle with a

peaked hood. Hereupon the blood all left her face, and with it all her

beauty. She clapped her hand to her forehead like one possessed or in a

fit, as though caught in her own snare, and she would have fallen, if I

had not held her upright. And then, on a sudden, she stood firm on her

feet, bid me depart right roughly, and pointed to the door; and I was

ready and swift enough in departing. When I was telling of all this to

Uhlwurm, who had stayed without, and what I had heard concerning Junker

Herdegen, he had nought to say but that accursed ‘Gone!’ And how that

dazes me, old mole that I am, you yourselves have seen. But the demeanor

of Mistress Tetzel of Nuremberg, I have never had it out of my mind

since, day or night, nor again, yesterday.”

He rubbed his damp brow, drank a draught, and took a deep breath; he

was not wont to speak at such length. But whereas we asked him many

questions of these matters, he turned again to us maidens, and said

“Grant me a few words apart from the matter you see, in time a man gets

an eye for a falcon, and sees what its good points are, and if it ails

aught. He learns to know the breed by its feathers, and breastbone, and

the color of its legs, and many another sign, and its temper by its eye

and beak;--and it is the same with knowing of men. All this I learned

not of myself, but from my father, God rest him; and like as you may

know a falcon by the beak, so you may know a man or a woman by the

mouth. And as I mind me of Mistress Ursula’s face, as I saw it then,

that is enough for me. Aye, and I will give my best Iceland Gerfalcon

for a lame crow if every word she spoke concerning the death of Junker

Herdegen was not false knavery. She is a goodly woman and of wondrous

beauty; yet, as I sat erewhile, thinking and gazing into the Wurzburg

wine in my cup, I remembered her red lips and white teeth, as she bid me

exhort his kin at home to seek the lost man no more. And I will plainly

declare what that mouth brought to my mind; nought else than the muzzle

of the she-wolf you caught and chained up. That was how she showed her

tusks when Uhlwurm wheedled her after his wise, and she feigned to be

his friend albeit she thirsted to take him by the throat.--False, I say,

false, false was every word that came to my ears out of that mouth! I

know what I know; she is mad for the sake of one of the Schoppers, and

if it be not Kunz then it is the other, and if it be not with love then

it is with hate. Make the sign of the cross, say I; she would put one

or both of them out of the world, as like as not. For certain it is that

she would fain have had me believe that the elder Junker Schopper had

already come to a bad end, and it is no less certain that she had some

foul purpose in hand.”

The old man coughed, wiped his brow, and fell back in his seat; we,

indeed, knew not what to think of his discourse, and looked one at the

other with enquiry. Jung Kubbeling was the last man on earth we could

have weened would read hearts. Only Uncle Christian upheld him, and

declared that the future would ere long confirm all that wise old

Jordan’s son had foretold from sure signs.

The dispute waxed so loud that even our silent Chaplain put in his word,

to express his consent to the Brunswicker’s opinion of Ursula, and to

put forward fresh proofs why, in spite of her statement, Herdegen might

yet be in the land of the living.

At this moment the door flew open, and the housekeeper--who was wont to

be a right sober-witted widow--rushed into the refectory, followed by

my aunt’s waiting-maid, both with crimson cheeks and so full of their

matter that they forgot the reverence due to our worshipful guests, and

it was hard at first to learn what had so greatly disturbed them. So

soon as this was clear, Cousin Maud, and Ann and I at her heels, ran

off to the chamber where Master Ulsenius still tarried with the sick

traveller, inasmuch as that if the women were not deceived, the poor

fellow was none other than Eppelein, Herdegen’s faithful henchman. The

tiringwoman likewise, a smart young wench, believed that it was he; and

her opinion was worthy to be trusted by reason that she was one of the

many maids who had looked upon Eppelein with favor.