"The world and all I'd sacrifice for thee;
And do it cheerfully--but only flee."
SCHILLER.
Albert felt some uneasiness, at first, as to how his new acquaintance
might behave in Kraft's house. It was not without reason, that he
feared he might betray himself by his dialect or inconsiderate
explanations, which would put him in an awkward position; for, though
it was his firm resolution to quit the service of the League in a few
days, still he did not wish it to be suspected that he was in
correspondence with Wuertemberg. Neither could he nor would he betray
the secret of Bertha having sent a messenger to him, should he be
unfortunately discovered. He thought of turning back, looking for the
man, and begging him to leave the town as soon as possible; but when he
recollected that, he must have long since left the place where they had
held their conversation, and that he might in the mean time have
arrived at the house, it appeared to him more advisable to hasten home
to put Hans on his guard, and warn him against committing an
indiscretion.
There was, however, something so peculiar in the sharp eye and the bold
cunning countenance of the man, which gave him reason to hope, that
Bertha, in the hasty choice she had made of the means of communicating
with him, would not have confided her message to uncertain hands.
Albert had scarcely entered Kraft's house, when, at noon, a countryman
from Franconia was announced; and the messenger of his love was shewn
in. Can this man now before me be the same who left me but a few
moments ago, thought Albert, surprised at his appearance, with his back
bent nearly double, his arms hanging lifeless by his body, his eyes
devoid of all animation? He could scarcely believe his eyes and ears,
when he addressed Kraft, who saluted him in pure Franconian dialect,
and answered his many questions with the volubility of a native of that
country. Albert with difficulty repressed a smile at the strange
metamorphosis of his new acquaintance; and was tempted to believe in
the supernatural stories he had heard in his childhood, which described
kind magicians, or gracious fairies, devoting themselves under all
sorts of forms to the service of true lovers, and carrying them safely
through the wiles of fate.
The charm was soon dispelled, when Albert and the messenger were left
alone in the room; and the Swabian peasant had assured him of his being
the same person. But Albert could not conceal his astonishment at the
part he had acted so well.
"I hope you will not think less honourably of me," said the countryman;
"we are often put to our wits to get on in the world: such arts hurt no
one, but assist him who knows how to practise them."
Albert assured him of his confidence, when the messenger urgently
pressed him to think of his immediate departure; and not to forget how
ardently the lady longed to hear the news of it. He added, that he
dared not return home, before he could bring her the positive
intelligence of his having quitted Ulm.
Albert said, he would only wait until the army of the League had
marched, and then return home.
"Oh! then you will not have to remain much longer," said the messenger,
"for, if they do not march to-morrow, they will do so the day after, as
the heart of the country is open before them. I know I can trust you,
sir, therefore I tell you this."
"Is it true then, that the Swiss have deserted the Duke; and that he
will not fight a battle in the field?" asked Albert.
The peasant threw a searching look around the room, carefully opened
the door, to assure himself that no one was listening in the
neighbourhood, and said,
"Sir, I was present at a scene, which I shall never forget, if I live
ninety years. On my way hither, I met large bodies of Swiss on the Alb,
going homewards, recalled by their councils and magistrates. But there
were still eight thousand men at Blaubeuren, all good Wuertembergers,
and not a stranger among them."
"And the Duke," Albert interrupted him, "where was he?"
"The Duke treated with the Swiss for the last time at Kirchheim; but
they withdrew from him, because he could not pay them. He then came to
Blaubeuren, where his infantry was encamped. Yesterday morning it was
made known by beat of drum, that all the people should assemble on the
field of the convent by nine o'clock. The assembly was numerous; and
but one feeling ran through the whole. Look ye, sir, Duke Ulerich is a
severe master; and does not understand the manner of winning over the
peasantry. Taxes are oppressive--the injury done to our fields by
hunting is ruinous and galling--and the court squanders what is taken
from us;--but when such a master, though tyrant he be, is in
misfortune, it is quite a different thing. The only feeling now among
us is, that he is our legitimate Duke; and, though unfortunate, he is a
brave man, whom his enemies would drive from his country. A whisper was
no sooner circulated that he wished to fight a battle, than each man
grasped his sword firmer, shook his spear fiercely, and vociferated
loud curses on the League. The Duke then came forward----"
"Did you see him? do you know him?" said Albert, with impatient
curiosity, "Oh! tell me, what is his appearance?"
"Do I know him?" replied the messenger, with a peculiar smile, "truly,
I saw him at a time when the sight of me was not welcome to him. He is
still a young man, about two and thirty years old. His person is
stately and powerful, and it is easy to perceive that he is well
skilled in the use of arms. His eyes sparkle like fire," he added, "and
few there are who can withstand his piercing glance, or penetrate his
thoughts. The Duke stepped into the circle which the armed multitude
had formed, and the stillness of death reigned among them. He said,
with an audible, firm voice, that, seeing himself deserted by his
allies, he knew not where to look for help. Betrayed by those upon
whose aid he had relied,--he was become the sport of his enemies,--for,
without the Swiss, he dare not risk a battle. An hoary-headed old man
then came forward, and said: 'Duke, do you give up all hope before you
have tried the strength of our arms? Look, sir, every man of us is
ready to bleed for you; I have brought my four boys, each with his
spear and knife, and so have many thousands besides. Are you tired of
your country, that you disdain our assistance?' These simple but
patriotic words touched the Duke's heart; he wiped the tears from his
eyes, and gave the old man his hand. 'I don't doubt your courage,' said
he, with a loud voice, 'but we are too few,--death, not victory, will
be our fate. Go to your homes, my good faithful people, and there
remain true to me. I must fly my country, and wander about with bitter
misery for my portion; but, with God's assistance, I hope soon to
return.' So spake the Duke; our people wept, and, grinding their teeth
in anger against his enemies, withdrew in sorrow and despondency."
"And the Duke, what became of him?" asked Albert.
"He rode away from Blaubeuren, it is not known whither. The knights
occupy his castles, to defend them, until he can procure succour."
The appearance of old John, the servant, interrupted the messenger, and
announced that Albert was ordered to attend the council of war, which
was to be held at Fronsberg's quarters at two o'clock. The young man
was not a little astonished at this summons. What could they want with
him at the council of war, of all places? His conscience acquitted him,
indeed, of having given rise to any suspicion of his intentions, but he
was fearful lest his friend Fronsberg might have proposed his being
employed on some service which would compromise his promise to Bertha,
and from which it might be difficult for him to excuse himself
honourably--these were the thoughts which flew through his mind.
"Take care of yourself, sir," said the messenger, as soon as old John
had left the room, "and think of the promise you gave the young lady.
Above all, don't forget what she said to you, namely, to be on your
guard against a plot. Allow me to remain in your house as your servant;
I can look after your horse, and am ready for any other service you may
require."
The offer of the faithful man was accepted with thanks by his new
master, and Hans entered at once into his service, by assisting him to
put on his sword, and arranging his cap properly. He again reminded him
of his oath, and warned him of the plot, on the threshold of the door,
as Albert left his abode.
Albert proceeded towards the house pointed out to him, meditating upon
the incomprehensible summons to the council of war, and the peculiarly
striking warning sent to him by Bertha. When he arrived there, a broad
winding staircase was pointed out to him, at the top of which, in the
first room on the right, he would find the military commanders
assembled. But he was not permitted immediate entrance into this
sanctuary, for, just as he was on the point of opening the door, a
grey-bearded soldier, asking his business, gave him to understand that
he would have to wait at least half an hour before he obtained an
audience, and, taking the young man by the hand, led him through a
narrow passage into a small room, there to exercise his patience
awhile.
Whoever has danced attendance, under the excitement of anxious
expectation, in an anteroom, may well imagine the torment Albert
experienced during that hour of solitary meditation. His heart beat
impatiently to learn the result of his present unexpected position, his
mind was on the stretch, and when he heard a distant door creak on its
hinges, or footsteps in the passage, or when indistinct voices in an
adjoining chamber became plainer, he hoped that rescue was at hand. But
in vain did the doors creak, the approaching footsteps receded, and the
indistinct voices died away into mere whispering sounds. He endeavoured
to beguile time by counting the boards in the floor, and the windows of
the neighbouring houses, when the clear tones of a clock reminded him
of having passed a tedious half hour. He then paced the confined space
of the apartment in nervous agitation, until, his patience being nearly
exhausted, he heard a door open again, and heavy footsteps coming
towards his room. The door opened, and the same old grey-headed soldier
entered, and said, "George von Fronsberg sends you his compliments, and
a can of wine for vespers. The council may still last some time, but,
as it is uncertain how long, you must remain here in the meanwhile."
Saying which, he set the wine on the ledge of the window, for there was
no table, and left the apartment.
Albert followed the old warrior with a look of amazement, for he
thought such treatment unpardonable. He passed more than an hour in
this situation, and still nothing had come to pass. He took a draught
of wine, which he found was not indifferent, but it was out of the
question enjoying his glass in his present painful solitude.
It is a fault common to young people of Albert's years to conceive
themselves of more importance than their station in the world really
warrants. An experienced man will bear with patience, or, at least,
restrain his displeasure, upon feeling himself slighted, whilst the
young man is apt to take fire upon the least hint derogatory to what he
imagines a point of honour. No wonder, then, that Albert, when he was
called to attend the council, after having been kept waiting two long
solitary hours, was not in the best of humours. The old soldier, at
length, having returned, conducted Albert to the council, leading the
way through a narrow passage, with a silence and precaution observed in
cases of a prisoner's presence.
When they came to the door, he turned to Albert, and said, in a
friendly way, "Do not despise the advice of an old man, sir, and put
aside that fierce sullen look of yours; it will be of no service to you
in the presence of the stern men in there."
Around a large unwieldly table sat eight elderly men, who formed the
council of war of the League. Some of them were known to Albert. George
Truchses, Baron of Waldburg, occupied the upper place at the table; on
each side of him sat Fronsberg and Sickingen. He was not acquainted
with the rest, excepting old Ludwig von Hutten; but the chronicle
whence this tale is taken has faithfully transmitted their names to us.
There was Christoph Count of Ortenberg, Alban von Closen, Christoph von
Frauenberg, and Diepold von Stein, aged men, and of repute in the army.
Albert paused at the door as he entered, but Fronsberg beckoned to him
in a kind way to approach. He went up to the table, and faced the
assembly with an open bold look peculiar to him. The members also took
a survey of him, and appeared pleased with his appearance and manly
bearing, for their eyes rested upon him with kindness, whilst some even
encouraged him by a friendly nod.
Truchses von Waldburg at length addressed him. "It has been reported to
us that you have been brought up at the high school in Tuebingen; is it
so?"
"Yes, sir knight," answered Albert.
"Are you well acquainted with the neighbourhood of Tuebingen?" continued
the other.
Albert blushed when this question was put to him. He thought of his
love, who was now at Lichtenstein, only a few hours (_stunden_) distant
from the university. But he answered composedly, "I have not hunted
much in that neighbourhood; neither have I made many excursions there;
but I am generally acquainted with its locality."
"We have determined," said Truchses, "to send a confidential person
into that neighbourhood to find out what may be the Duke's intentions
upon our approach, and to gain correct information upon the state of
the fortifications of the castle of Tuebingen, together with the feeling
of the people of the surrounding country. Such a person, by prudence
and sagacity, may do more harm to the Duke's cause than a hundred
horsemen: we have selected you for this service."
"Me!" cried Albert, in horror.
"You, Albert von Sturmfeder: dexterity and experience are no doubt
requisite in such undertakings: but you must look to that; whatever is
wanting on your part, in the execution of this piece of service, your
head will answer for."
The effect which this order produced on the young man was visibly
depicted on his features. His face turned pale, his eyes became fixed,
his lips firmly pressed together. The warning of Bertha flashed across
his mind, and struck him with increased force; but, however favourable
this opportunity might be to quit the service of the League, he was too
much taken by surprise to be able to decide at that moment.
Truchses fidgeted about in his chair, showing evident symptoms of
impatience at the young man's hesitation to give an answer: "Well," he
cried, "will it come out soon? what are you thinking about so long?"
"Spare me this commission," said Albert, at length, but not without
dread; "I cannot, I dare not undertake it."
The old men looked at each other in astonishment, as if they did not
trust their ears. "You dare not, you cannot," Truchses repeated slowly,
a deep red at the same time mounting up to his eyes, and colouring his
forehead, the forerunner of rising anger.
Albert immediately perceived he had been too hasty in his expression;
he recovered himself, and spoke with more composure: "I proffered my
services to the League for the glory of honourable fight, not to steal
into the enemy's country in the ignominious guise of a spy, to discover
by secrecy and treachery what is not to be obtained openly. It is true,
I am young and inexperienced; but this much I know, that I am
answerable to myself alone for the propriety of my conduct. Who among
you, as a father, would advise his son to commence his military career
in the dishonourable garb of a spy?"
Truchses contracted his dark eyebrows into a frown, and shot a
penetrating glance at the young man, who had ventured to entertain an
opinion so different to his own. "What are you thinking about, sir?" he
cried, "your opinion has nothing to do here; the question is, not
whether your conscience will allow you to execute our orders--it treats
of obedience to our commands, which we insist upon, and which you
_must_ submit to."
"And I will not," replied the young man, with a resolute voice. He felt
his courage increase every moment, in proportion as the insulting tone
of Waldburg excited his anger. He even hoped Truchses might persist in
his offensive manner; for it would strengthen him still more in his
resolve, and fully justify his determination to quit their service.
"Yes, yes!" laughed Waldburg, in sarcastic rage, "to ride about alone
in the enemy's country is certainly a dangerous undertaking. Ha, ha!
These are your fine-spoken gentlemen, proffering head and arm, with
high-sounding words and lofty looks; but, when it comes to the point,
if any service is required of them which is attended with danger, their
hearts fail them. But one generation resembles the other; the apple
does not fall far from its stem; and where there is nothing to be
gained, the Emperor has lost his rights."
"If those words be meant as a reflection on my father," answered
Albert, irritated, "there are witnesses sitting here, who can vouch
that he lives in their memory as a brave man. You think to have
achieved sufficient renown to warrant your taking the liberty of
undervaluing the merits of others."
"Shall such a downy chin prescribe to me what I shall say?" interrupted
Waldburg. "But an end to this trash. I want to know, youngster, whether
or not you will saddle your horse to-morrow, and follow our orders?"
"Truchses von Waldburg," answered Albert, with more composure than he
thought himself master of, "your arrogant language only convinces me
how little you know the way to address a gentleman, who has tendered
his services to the League with honourable motives, and who is the son
of a brave father. You have addressed me in the name of the League, as
president of this council, and have insulted me, as if I were its
greatest enemy. I have, therefore, no other answer to give, than, in
following your orders, to saddle my horse; but I now most decidedly
declare, assuredly no longer in your service. My honour forbids my
remaining under your colours; I therefore pronounce myself henceforth
free and unshackled from you for ever;--farewell."
The young man spoke with vigour and firmness, and turned around to
depart.
"Albert," called Fronsberg, springing from his seat, "son of my
friend!--"
"Not so rash, young man," cried the rest, and cast looks of
disapprobation at Waldburg; but Albert walked out of the apartment
without looking back; the iron latch of the door rang sharply as it
fell; heavy oaken pannels lay between him and the recall of the
better-intentioned members of the council, and separated Albert von
Sturmfeder for ever from the Swabian League.