DUKE BERNHARD AND BERTEL.
Three months after the events related in the preceding chapter we find
Lieutenant Bertel one day in one of the rooms at the martial court,
which Duke Bernhard of Weimar kept sometimes at Kassel and sometimes at
Nassau, or wherever the duties of the war compelled him to go.
It was a spring day in March, 1633. Officers came and departed,
orderlies hastened in all directions; Duke Bernhard had the greatest
share of the south and west of Germany to look after, and the times
were most anxious.
After having waited a good while, the young officer was conducted to
the duke. The latter looked up irritably from his maps and papers, and
seemed to wait to be spoken to; but Bertel remained silent.
"Who are you?" asked the duke in sharp, harsh tones.
"Gustaf Bertel, Lieutenant in his Royal Majesty's Finnish cavalry."
"What do you want?"
The young man coloured up and remained silent. The duke noticed this
and looked at him with a discontented air.
"I understand," the latter said at last, "you have as usual been
fighting with the German officers about the girls. I will not allow
this sort of thing. A soldier's sword should be reserved for his
country's enemies."
"I have not been fighting, your highness."
"All the worse. You came to ask for a furlough to go to Finland. I
refuse it to you. I want all my men here. You will stay, Lieutenant.
Good-bye!"
"I do not come to ask for a furlough."
"Well, What the devil do you want? Can you not speak out? Be short
and quick! Leave the clergy to say prayers, and the girls to blush."
"Your highness has received from his Majesty, the late king, a ring..."
"I cannot remember it."
"... which his Majesty asked your highness to give to an officer in his
life-guards."
The duke passed his hand over his high forehead.
"That officer is dead," he said.
"I am that officer, your highness. I was wounded at Lützen, and
shortly after taken prisoner by the Imperialists."
Duke Bernhard beckoned Bertel to come nearer, and gave him a searching
look; he seemed satisfied with his examination.
"Close the door," he said, "and sit down by my side."
Bertel obeyed. His cheeks were burning with anxiety.
"Young man," said the duke, "you carry on your forehead the marks of
your origin, and I ask for no further evidence. Your mother is a
peasant's daughter of Storkyro, in Finland, and her name is Emerentia
Aronsdotter Bertila."
"No, your highness, the person you speak of is my elder sister, born of
my father's first marriage. I have never seen my mother."
The duke looked at him with surprise.
"Very well," said he doubtfully, as he looked among some papers in his
portfolio, "we will now speak of this sister of yours, Emerentia
Aronsdotter. Her father had performed great services for Carl IX., and
he was urged to ask a favour. He asked to be allowed to send his only
daughter, then his only child, to Stockholm, to be educated with the
young ladies of rank at the Court."
"I know very little about this."
"At thirteen years of age the peasant girl was sent to Stockholm, where
her father's vanity and wealth procured her an abode, appearance, and
education, far above her station. He was consumed with ambition, and
as he himself could not gain a noble crest, he relied upon his
daughter's high birth on her mother's side. Bertila's first wife was
an orphan of the noble family Stjernkors, deprived of her inheritance
by the war, and then rejected by her proud family on account of her
marriage with the rich peasant Bertila."
"This is all unknown to me."
"The young Emerentia suffered a great deal in Stockholm from the envy
and contempt of her aristocratic companions; for many of them were
poorer than herself, and could not endure a plebeian at their side as
an equal.
"But her beauty was as extraordinary as her wisdom and goodness.
Within two years she had acquired the habits of the upper classes,
whilst preserving the rustic simplicity of her heart. This wonderful
combination of mental and physical graces reminded old persons of a
lovely picture of their youthful days--Karin Mansdotter."
As he said these words, the duke closely watched the young officer; but
Bertel did not betray any agitation, and remained silent. All this was
something new and incomprehensible to him.
"Very well," continued the duke after a pause. "This beauty did not
long remain unnoticed. A very young man of high birth soon fell in
love with the beautiful maiden, then only fifteen years old, and she
returned his affection with the whole devotion of a first love. This
attachment soon became known to those who surrounded the noble youth;
state policy was endangered, and the nobility were offended by the
distinction thus conferred on a girl of low birth. They resolved to
marry the maiden to an officer of the same origin as herself, who had
distinguished himself in the Danish War. This intention came to the
ears of the young people. Poor children! they were so young; he
seventeen, she fifteen, both inexperienced and in love. Shortly after,
the youth was sent to the war in Poland. The young girl's marriage
came to nothing, and she was sent back by the offended nobility in
disgrace to her cabin in Finland. Do you wish to hear any more,
Lieutenant Bertel?"
"I do not understand, your highness, what this account of my sister's
life has to do with..."
"... the ring you ask for. Patience. When the young man had a secret
meeting with his beloved for the last time, just before his departure,
she gave him a ring, whose earlier history I do not know, but which was
probably made by a Finnish sorcerer, and had all the qualities of a
talisman. She conjured her lover to always wear this ring on his
finger, in war and danger, as he would thus become invulnerable. Twice
this warning was forgotten, once at Dirschau..."
"Great God!"
"... the second time at Lützen."
Bertel's emotions were of such a violent nature that all the blood left
his cheeks, and he sat pale as a marble statue.
"Young man, you now know part of what you ought to know, but you do not
know all. We have spoken of your sister. We will now speak of
yourself. It was his Majesty's intention to offer you a nobleman's
coat of arms, and which you with your good sword have so well deserved.
But old Aron Bertila, actuated by his hatred for the nobility had asked
as a favour that the king would give you an opportunity to gain any
other distinction than that one. The king could not refuse this
request from a father, and therefore you are still a commoner by name.
But I, who am not bound by any promise to your father, will offer you,
young man, that which has hitherto been denied you: a knight's spur and
coat of arms."
"Your highness ... this favour makes me wonder and mute; how have I
deserved it?"
Duke Bernhard smiled with a strange expression.
"How, my friend? you have only half understood me."
Bertel remained silent.
"Well, with or without your knowledge and will, my friend, I already
regard you as a nobleman. We will speak more about it another time.
Your ring ... Ah! I have forgotten it. Do you remember what it was
like?"
The duke now searched zealously in his portfolio. "They say that the
king wore a copper ring, and on the inside of it magic signs were
engraved, and the letters R.R.R."
"It is possible that I have mislaid it, for I cannot find it. And who
the devil has time to think of such childish things? The ring must
have been stolen from my private casket. If I find it again I will
give it to you, and if not, you know that which is worth more. Go,
young man, and be worthy of my confidence and the great king's memory.
No one is to know what I have told you. Farewell; we will see each
other again."