Low among the swarthy sandhills behind the Abbey of Laach dropped the
round red moon. Soft lengths of misty yellow stole through the glens of
Rhineland. The nightingales still sang. Closer and closer the moon came
into the hushed valleys.
There is a dell behind Hammerstein Castle, a ring of basking sward,
girdled by a silver slate-brook, and guarded by four high-peaked hills
that slope down four long wooded corners to the grassy base. Here, it is
said, the elves and earthmen play, dancing in circles with laughing feet
that fatten the mushroom. They would have been fulfilling the tradition
now, but that the place was occupied by a sturdy group of mortals, armed
with staves. The intruders were sleepy, and lay about on the inclines.
Now and then two got up, and there rang hard echoes of oak. Again all
were calm as cud-chewing cattle, and the white water ran pleased with
quiet.
It may be that the elves brewed mischief among them; for the oaken blows
were becoming more frequent. One complained of a kick: another demanded
satisfaction for a pinch. 'Go to,' drawled the accused drowsily in both
cases, 'too much beer last night!' Within three minutes, the company
counted a pair of broken heads. The East was winning on the West in
heaven, and the dusk was thinning. They began to mark, each, whom he had
cudgelled. A noise of something swiftly in motion made them alert. A
roebuck rushed down one of the hills, and scampered across the sward.
The fine beast went stretching so rapidly away as to be hardly distinct.
'Sathanas once more!' they murmured, and drew together.
The name passed through them like a watchword.
'Not he this time,' cried the two new-comers, emerging from the foliage.
'He's safe under Cologne--the worse for all good men who live there! But
come! follow to the Rhine! there 's work for us on the yonder side, and
sharp work.'
'Why,' answered several, 'we 've our challenge with the lads of
Leutesdorf and Wied to-day.'
'D' ye see this?' said the foremost of the others, pointing to a carved
ivory white rose in his cap.
'Brothers!' he swelled his voice, 'follow with a will, for the White Rose
is in danger!'
Immediately they ranked, and followed zealously through the buds of young
bushes, and over heaps of damp dead leaves, a half-hour's scramble, when
they defiled under Hammerstein, and stood before the Rhine. Their leader
led up the river, and after a hasty walk, stopped, loosened his hood, and
stripped.
'Now,' said he, strapping the bundle to his back, 'let me know the hound
that refuses to follow his leader when the White Rose is in danger.'
'Long live Dietrich!' they shouted. He dropped from the bank, and waded
in. He was soon supported by the remainder of the striplings, and all
struck out boldly into mid-stream.
Never heard history of a nobler Passage of the Rhine than this made
between Andernach and Hammerstein by members of the White Rose Club,
bundle on back, to relieve the White Rose of Germany from thrall and
shame!
They were taken far down by the rapid current, and arrived panting to
land. The dressing done, they marched up the pass of Tonnistein, and
took a deep draught at the spring of pleasant waters there open to
wayfarers. Arrived at the skirts of Laach, they beheld two farmer
peasants lashed back to back against a hazel. They released them, but
could gain no word of information, as the fellows, after a yawn and a
wink, started off, all heels, to make sure of liberty. On the shores of
the lake the brotherhood descried a body of youths, whom they hailed, and
were welcomed to companionship.
'Where's Berthold?' asked Dietrich.
He was not present.
'The more glory for us, then,' Dietrich said.
It was here seriously put to the captain, whether they should not halt at
the abbey, and reflect, seeing that great work was in prospect.
'Truly,' quoth Dietrich, 'dying on an empty stomach is heathenish, and
cold blood makes a green wound gape. Kaiser Conrad should be hospitable,
and the monks honour numbers. Here be we, thirty and nine; let us go!'
The West was dark blue with fallen light. The lakewaters were growing
grey with twilight. The abbey stood muffled in shadows. Already the
youths had commenced battering at the convent doors, when they were
summoned by the voice of the Goshawk on horseback. To their confusion
they beheld the White Rose herself on his right hand. Chapfallen
Dietrich bowed to his sweet mistress.
'We were coming to the rescue,' he stammered.
A laugh broke from the Goshawk. 'You thought the lady was locked up in
the ghostly larder; eh!'
Dietrich seized his sword, and tightened his belt.
'The Club allows no jesting with the White Rose, Sir Stranger.'
Margarita made peace. 'I thank you all, good friends. But quarrel not,
I pray you, with them that save me at the risk of their lives.'
'Our service is equal,' said the Goshawk, flourishing, 'Only we happen to
be beforehand with the Club, for which Farina and myself heartily beg
pardon of the entire brotherhood.'
'Farina!' exclaimed Dietrich. 'Then we make a prisoner instead of
uncaging a captive.'
'What 's this?' said Guy.
'So much,' responded Dietrich. 'Yonder's a runaway from two masters: the
law of Cologne, and the conqueror of Satan; and all good citizens are
empowered to bring him back, dead or alive.'
'Dietrich! Dietrich! dare you talk thus of the man who saved me?' cried
Margarita.
Dietrich sullenly persisted.
'Then, look!' said the White Rose, reddening under the pale dawn; 'he
shall not, he shall not go with you.'
One of the Club was here on the point of speaking to the White Rose,--
a breach of the captain's privilege. Dietrich felled him unresisting
to earth, and resumed:
'It must be done, Beauty of Cologne! the monk, Father Gregory, is now
enduring shame and scorn for lack of this truant witness.'
'Enough! I go !' said Farina.
'You leave me?' Margarita looked tender reproach. Weariness and fierce
excitement had given a liquid flame to her eyes and an endearing darkness
round their circles that matched strangely with her plump youth. Her
features had a soft white flush. She was less radiant, but never looked
so bewitching. An aspect of sweet human languor caught at the heart of
love, and raised tumults.
'It is a duty,' said Farina.
'Then go,' she beckoned, and held her hand for him to kiss. He raised it
to his lips. This was seen of all the Club.
As they were departing with Farina, and Guy prepared to demand admittance
into the convent, Dietrich chanced to ask how fared Dame Lisbeth.
Schwartz Thier was by, and answered, with a laugh, that he had quite
forgotten the little lady.
'We took her in mistake for you, mistress! She was a one to scream! The
moment she was kissed--mum as a cloister. We kissed her, all of us, for
the fun of it. No harm--no harm! We should have dropped her when we
found we had the old bird 'stead of the young one, but reckoned ransom,
ye see. She's at the Eck, rattling, I's wager, like last year's nut in
the shell!'
'Lisbeth! Lisbeth! poor Lisbeth; we will return to her. Instantly,'
cried Margarita.
'Not you,' said Guy.
'Yes! I!'
'No!' said Guy.
'Gallant Goshawk! best of birds, let me go!'
'Without me or Farina, never! I see I shall have no chance with my lord
now. Come, then, come, fair Irresistible! come, lads. Farina can
journey back alone. You shall have the renown of rescuing Dame Lisbeth.'
'Farina! forget not to comfort my father,' said Margarita.
Between Margarita's society and Farina's, there was little dispute in the
captain's mind which choice to make. Farina was allowed to travel single
to Cologne; and Dietrich, petted by Margarita, and gently jeered by Guy,
headed the Club from Laach waters to the castle of the Robber Baron.