A league behind Andernach, and more in the wintry circle of the sun than
Laach, its convenient monastic neighbour, stood the castle of Werner, the
Robber Baron. Far into the South, hazy with afternoon light, a yellow
succession of sandhills stretched away, spouting fire against the blue
sky of an elder world, but now dead and barren of herbage. Around is a
dusty plain, where the green blades of spring no sooner peep than they
become grimed with sand and take an aged look, in accordance with the
ungenerous harvests they promise. The aridity of the prospect is
relieved on one side by the lofty woods of Laach, through which the sun
setting burns golden-red, and on the other by the silver sparkle of a
narrow winding stream, bordered with poplars, and seen but a glistening
mile of its length by all the thirsty hills. The Eck, or Corner, itself,
is thick-set with wood, but of a stunted growth, and lying like a dark
patch on the landscape. It served, however, entirely to conceal the
castle, and mask every movement of the wary and terrible master. A
trained eye advancing on the copse would hardly mark the glimmer of the
turrets over the topmost leaves, but to every loophole of the walls lies
bare the circuit of the land. Werner could rule with a glance the
Rhine's course down from the broad rock over Coblentz to the white tower
of Andernach. He claimed that march as his right; but the Mosel was no
hard ride's distance, and he gratified his thirst for rapine chiefly on
that river, delighting in it, consequently, as much as his robber nature
boiled over the bound of his feudal privileges.
Often had the Baron held his own against sieges and restrictions, bans
and impositions of all kinds. He boasted that there was never a knight
within twenty miles of him that he had not beaten, nor monk of the same
limit not in his pay. This braggadocio received some warrant from his
yearly increase of licence; and his craft and his castle combined,
made him a notable pest of the region, a scandal to the abbey whose
countenance he had, and a frightful infliction on the poorer farmers
and peasantry.
The sun was beginning to slope over Laach, and threw the shadows of the
abbey towers half-way across the blue lake-waters, as two men in the garb
of husbandmen emerged from the wood. Their feet plunged heavily and
their heads hung down, as they strode beside a wain mounted with straw,
whistling an air of stupid unconcern; but a close listener might have
heard that the lumbering vehicle carried a human voice giving them
directions as to the road they were to take, and what sort of behaviour
to observe under certain events. The land was solitary. A boor passing
asked whether toll or tribute they were conveying to Werner. Tribute,
they were advised to reply, which caused him to shrug and curse as he
jogged on. Hearing him, the voice in the wain chuckled grimly. Their
next speech was with a trooper, who overtook them, and wanted to know
what they had in the wain for Werner. Tribute, they replied, and won the
title of 'brave pigs' for their trouble.
'But what's the dish made of?' said the trooper, stirring the straw with
his sword-point.
'Tribute,' came the answer.
'Ha! You've not been to Werner's school,' and the trooper swung a sword-
stroke at the taller of the two, sending a tremendous shudder throughout
his frame; but he held his head to the ground, and only seemed to betray
animal consciousness in leaning his ear closer to the wain.
'Blood and storm! Will ye speak?' cried the trooper.
'Never talk much; but an ye say nothing to the Baron,'--thrusting his
hand into the straw--'here's what's better than speaking.'
'Well said!--Eh? Liebfrauenmilch? Ho, ho! a rare bleed!'
Striking the neck of the flask on a wheel, the trooper applied it to his
mouth, and ceased not deeply ingurgitating till his face was broad to the
sky and the bottle reversed. He then dashed it down, sighed, and shook
himself.
'Rare news! the Kaiser's come: he'll be in Cologne by night; but first he
must see the Baron, and I'm post with the order. That's to show you how
high he stands in the Kaiser's grace. Don't be thinking of upsetting
Werner yet, any of you; mind, now!'
'That's Blass-Gesell,' said the voice in the wain, as the trooper trotted
on: adding, ''gainst us.'
'Makes six,' responded the driver.
Within sight of the Eck, they descried another trooper coming toward
them. This time the driver was first to speak.
'Tribute! Provender! Bread and wine for the high Baron Werner from his
vassals over Tonnistein.'
'And I'm out of it! fasting like a winter wolf,' howled the fellow.
He was in the act of addressing himself to an inspection of the wain's
contents, when a second flask lifted in air, gave a sop to his curiosity.
This flask suffered the fate of the former.
'A Swabian blockhead, aren't you?'
'Ay, that country,' said the driver. 'May be, Henker Rothhals happens to
be with the Baron?'
'To hell with him! I wish he had my job, and I his, of watching the
yellow-bird in her new cage, till she's taken out to-night, and then a
jolly bumper to the Baron all round.'
The driver wished him a fortunate journey, strongly recommending him to
skirt the abbey westward, and go by the Ahr valley, as there was
something stirring that way, and mumbling, 'Makes five again,' as he put
the wheels in motion.
'Goshawk!' said his visible companion; 'what do you say now?'
'I say, bless that widow!'
'Oh! bring me face to face with this accursed Werner quickly, my God !'
gasped the youth.
'Tusk! 'tis not Werner we want--there's the Thier speaking. No, no,
Schwartz Thier! I trust you, no doubt; but the badger smells at a hole,
before he goes inside it. We're strangers, and are allowed to miss our
way.'
Leaving the wain in Farina's charge, he pushed through a dense growth of
shrub and underwood, and came crouching on a precipitous edge of shrouded
crag, which commanded a view of the stronghold, extending round it, as if
scooped clean by some natural action, about a stone'sthrow distant, and
nearly level with the look-out tower. Sheer from a deep circular basin
clothed with wood, and bottomed with grass and bubbling water, rose a
naked moss-stained rock, on whose peak the castle firmly perched, like a
spying hawk. The only means of access was by a narrow natural bridge of
rock flung from this insulated pinnacle across to the mainland. One man,
well disposed, might have held it against forty.
'Our way's the best,' thought Guy, as he meditated every mode of gaining
admission. 'A hundred men an hour might be lost cutting steps up that
steep slate; and once at the top we should only have to be shoved down
again.'
While thus engaged, he heard a summons sounded from the castle, and
scrambled back to Farina.
'The Thier leads now,' said he, 'and who leads is captain. It seems
easier to get out of that than in. There's a square tower, and a round.
I guess the maiden to be in the round. Now, lad, no crying out--You
don't come in with us; but back you go for the horses, and have them
ready and fresh in yon watered meadow under the castle. The path down
winds easy.'
'Man!' cried Farina, 'what do you take me for?--go you for the horses.'
'Not for a fool,' Guy rejoined, tightening his lip; 'but now is your time
to prove yourself one.'
'With you, or without you, I enter that castle!'
'Oh! if you want to be served up hot for the Baron's supper-mess, by all
means.'
'Thunder!' growled Schwartz Thier, 'aren't ye moving?'
The Goshawk beckoned Farina aside.
'Act as I tell you, or I'm for Cologne.'
'Traitor!' muttered the youth.
'Swearing this, that if we fail, the Baron shall need a leech sooner than
a bride.'
'That stroke must be mine!'
The Goshawk griped the muscle of Farina's arm till the youth was
compelled to slacken it with pain.
'Could you drive a knife through a six-inch wood-wall? I doubt this wild
boar wants a harder hit than many a best man could give. 'Sblood! obey,
sirrah. How shall we keep yon fellow true, if he sees we're at points?'
'I yield,' exclaimed Farina with a fall of the chest; 'but hear I nothing
of you by midnight--Oh! then think not I shall leave another minute to
chance. Farewell! haste! Heaven prosper you! You will see her, and die
under her eyes. That may be denied to me. What have I done to be
refused that last boon?'
'Gone without breakfast and dinner,' said Guy in abhorrent tones.
A whistle from the wain, following a noise of the castlegates being flung
open, called the Goshawk away, and he slouched his shoulders and strode
to do his part, without another word. Farina gazed after him, and
dropped into the covert.