The eyes with which I gaze on her
Can pierce thro' wood and stone:
They're seated in my heart so true,
That beats for her alone.
WALTHER VON DER VOGELWEIDE.
The small distance which separated the table from the window, to which
Albert had retired, permitted his hearing every word of the dispute
mentioned in the latter part of the last chapter. He rejoiced to
perceive the warm interest which Fronsberg took in him, an
inexperienced orphan; but, at the same time, he could not conceal from
himself that his first step in his military career, had also brought
upon him a formidable, bitter enemy.
The unbending pride of Truchses von Waldburg was so well known in the
army, that Albert had little reason to hope Hutten's mediatory and
conciliatory words would have much effect in soothing the unfavourable
impression, which he feared his warmth in upholding the name of his
family might have created in the mind of the general. And he was well
aware that men of weight and consequence, governed by a violent,
imperious temper, such as Waldburg's, do not readily enter into the
feelings of those who have excited their anger, nor forgive the
ebullition of a generous mind when assailed in its most vulnerable
point.
A slight tap on the shoulder interrupted his thoughts, and as he turned
round, his friendly neighbour at table, the scribe to the grand
council, stood before him.
"I'll bet, you have not looked out for a lodging yet," said Dieterick
von Kraft, "and it might be now somewhat difficult to find one, as it
is getting dark, and the town is very full."
Albert acknowledged he had not thought about it; he hoped however to
find a room in one of the public inns.
"I would not have you be quite so sure of that," answered the other,
"and, should you find a corner in one of those houses, you must reckon
upon being but badly off. But if my lodging would not appear too small
for you, it is very much at your service."
The good secretary of the council pressed Albert with so much
cordiality, that he did not hesitate to take advantage of his
invitation, though he almost feared lest, when the effects of the wine
had passed off, his host might regret his proffered hospitality to him,
a perfect stranger. Dieterick von Kraft, however, appeared rejoiced at
the readiness with which his proposal was accepted, and taking Albert's
arm, with a hearty shake of the hand, led him out of the room.
The square before the town-hall was in the mean time the scene of much
bustle and confusion. The days were still short, and the evening having
broken in upon the dinner-party, torches were lighted, the glare of
which illumined but sparingly the large space, and played on the
windows of the opposite houses, and on the polished helmets and
cuirasses of the knights. Loud calls for horses and attendants sounding
through the town-hall, the clatter of swords, the running here and
there of many men, coupled with the barking of dogs, the neighing and
pawing of impatient horses, formed a scene, which resembled more the
surprise of a military post in the night by an enemy, than the breaking
up of a convivial festival.
Albert remained in the hall in a state of amazement at the sight of so
many jovial faces and powerful figures, who, having mounted their
horses, retired in small groups, singing and springing about in all the
hilarity of youth. This nocturnal, fleeting scene, forcibly impressed
him with the conviction of the uncertainty and changeableness of all
worldly events. These same joyous associates, thought he, would soon be
engaged in the dangerous concerns of war, when many of them, even
before the spring should be fully advanced, would cover the green grass
with their bodies, with no other price offered for their blood than the
tear of a comrade, or the short-lived glory of having fallen before the
enemy as brave men.
His eye turned instinctively to that quarter where he knew the reward
which he hoped would crown the success of his present undertaking
awaited him. He there saw many figures at the window, but soon the
black smoke of the torches, which suddenly, as a cloud, almost covered
the square, veiled the objects so as to give them the appearance of
mere shadows. He turned away in disappointment, saying to himself,
"Such are my prospects also; at one moment the present indeed looks
bright, but in the next, how dark, how uncertain is the prospect of the
future!"
His kind friend roused him from this foreboding frame of mind, with the
question, "Where are your servants with your horses?" Had the spot
where they stood been better lighted, our good Kraft might, perhaps,
have discovered a passing blush upon the cheek of his friend at this
inquiry.
"A young soldier," answered Albert, quickly recovering his composure,
"must learn to look after his own affairs as well as he can, without
the assistance and trouble of servants, and therefore I have not
brought one with me. I have given Breitenstein's groom charge of my
horse."
The scribe of the council applauded the young man for the self-denial
which he exercised; but he could not help making the remark, that when
once in the field he would not be able to assert his independence so
easily. The attention which his companion paid to his own person, his
well-combed hair, his neatly curled beard, convinced Albert that he
spoke from his heart, and the snug comfortable lodging into which he
was introduced did not belie this opinion.
The menage of Herrn von Kraft was, in fact, a young bachelor's
establishment, for his parents died before he attained the age of
manhood. He had often thought of looking for a partner to share his
comforts with him, but he hesitated to renounce the charm of
independence; an advantage he thought not to be despised, flattered as
he was by being honored and looked upon by the ladies of Ulm as a
desirable match. But ill-natured folks whispered abroad, that it was
principally owing to the decided disinclination of his old nurse and
housekeeper to have a young mistress in the house, which deterred him
from taking so important a step.
Herr Dieterick possessed a large house not far from the cathedral, a
pretty garden on St. Michael's Hill, furniture in high preservation,
large oak chests full of the finest linen, made of the yarn which the
ladies of the house of Kraft, with their female domestics, had for many
generations passed their long winter evenings in spinning; and an iron
chest in the bed-room, containing a large stock of gold florins. As to
his person, he was a good-looking, substantial man, always spruce in
his dress, tight-laced, and proud of the fine linen which he wore: his
deportment in the council was serious and full of business; he was well
conversant in state affairs, as well as in those of his own household;
and being sprung from a good old family, it was no wonder that he was
respected and looked up to by the whole town, and that any pretty young
Ulmer damsel would have thought herself too happy to become mistress of
these united advantages.
Upon a nearer inspection, however, the interior of his friend's
establishment appeared to Albert any thing but enviable. The only
domestic companions of Herr Dieterick were an old grey-headed
man-servant, two large cats, and the above-mentioned unsightly fat
nurse. These four creatures stared at the new guest with large
wondering eyes, which convinced him how little accustomed they were to
receive any increase of guests in the establishment. The cats went
round him mewing with raised backs; the old woman, in a cross manner,
fidgeted her large high round cap, ornamented with gold fringe, out of
its accustomed perpendicular position, and asked whether she should
prepare supper for two? When she heard her question not only affirmed,
but was ordered also (it was not quite clear whether it was an order or
a petition) to prepare the corner room on the second floor for the
stranger, her patience appeared exhausted; she shot a look of fury at
her young master, and left the room rattling a large bunch of keys,
which were suspended from her girdle. The hollow sound of her footstep,
and the noise of the door, as she, in her ill-humour, slammed it after
her, re-echoed through the dead stillness of the spacious corridors.
The old grey-headed servant had in the mean time pushed the table and
two ponderous arm-chairs near the immense stove; and having put a black
box on the table, with two candlesticks and a tankard of wine, he
whispered a few words to his master, and then withdrew. Herr Dieterick
invited his guest to take part in his usual evening amusement of
playing a game of tric-trac, which the black box contained.
Albert was amused at the proposal of his friend, and particularly when
he told him that, since he was twelve years old, he had been in the
habit of playing a game with his nurse every evening.
The dead silence which reigned throughout the house was only broken by
the occasional snuffing of the candles, the ticking of a large wooden
clock in a black case, and the monotonous throw of the dice. Albert
would gladly have heard some other symptoms of life, if it were but the
grumbling of the old nurse, or her footstep sounding again in the
corridors. The game had never possessed any charm for him, and more
particularly at the present moment, when his thoughts were otherwise
occupied. He was oppressed with a lowness of spirits which he could
scarcely control, separated as he now was by a few streets only from
his beloved, and anxious to satisfy his longing desire to see her
again. The unfeigned pleasure which Herr Dieterick appeared to derive
in winning nearly every game, imparted to his good-natured face
something so peculiarly agreeable, that it made up in some measure for
the loss of time.
When the clock struck eight Dieterick led his guest to supper, which
his housekeeper, spite of her ill humour, had prepared in her best
manner, for she spared nothing to keep up the dignity and honour of the
house of Kraft. The secretary again essayed the powers of his
eloquence, with which he sought to season the repast. He talked
concerning passing events, of the coming war, and gave Albert to
understand that his situation put him in possession of state secrets
known only to a select few. But in vain did Albert hope to hear
something about his pretty cousins. He attempted to sound him upon a
subject so nearly allied to his dearest interests, namely, upon the
views of the knight of Lichtenstein in the pending struggle, which he
had failed to elicit at the dinner; but the secretary, whether to
impress Albert with the importance of his confidential situation in the
council, or that he really did not know the intention of Bertha's
father, put on a more consequential and mysterious air than usual, and
the only information he would impart was, that the knight was then in
Ulm with some others of Wuertemberg.
This news was at least satisfactory so far as the turn it was likely to
give to his fate. His joy was now for the first time complete, in the
satisfaction of having joined a party which, except for the great names
at the head of it, was otherwise indifferent to him. "And so her father
is also among those assembled here!" thought he. "May I not hope to
have the good fortune to fight by the side of that good man, and prove
myself worthy of my name, and of her I love?" He felt the conviction
that Albert von Sturmfeder would not be the last in a battle.
His host, after supper, conducted him to his bed-room, and took his
leave with a hearty wish for a good night's rest. Albert examined his
room closely, and found it to correspond precisely with the rest of the
gloomy house. The round frames of the windows, warped by age, the dark
woodwork of the walls and ceiling, the large stove projecting far into
the apartment, the enormous bed with a broad canopy and heavy stuff
curtains, gave a dull, nay a melancholy, effect to the whole. But still
every thing was arranged for his comfort. Clean snow-white sheets
invited him within as he threw back the curtains of the bed, the stove
threw out an agreeable warmth, a night lamp was placed in a niche in
the wall, and even a tankard of spiced hot wine, by way of a nightcap,
was not forgotten. He closed the curtains as he got into bed, and
scanned over in his mind the passing events of the day. Having taken
them in their due order as they had occurred, he had reason to be
satisfied with his position; but, when he afterwards fell into the
province of dreaming, they were all heaped up in crowded confusion in
his mind, far beyond the power of unravelling. One object alone was
perfectly clear to him,--it was the portrait of his beloved Bertha.