CHAPTER II.

THE COUNTESS ROTHA.

My Lady Rotha, Countess of Heritzburg in her own right, was at this

time twenty-five years old and unmarried. Her maiden state, which

seems to call for explanation, I attribute to two things. Partly to

the influence of her friend and companion Fraulein Anna Max of

Utrecht, who was reputed in the castle to know seven languages, and to

consider marriage a sacrifice; and partly to the Countess's own

disposition, which led her to set a high value on the power and

possessions that had descended to her from her father. Count Tilly's

protection, which had exempted Heritzburg from the evils of the war,

had rendered the support of a husband less necessary; and so she had

been left to follow her own will in the matter, and was now little

likely to surrender her independence unless her heart went with the

gift.

Not that suitors were lacking, for my lady, besides her wealth, was

possessed of the handsomest figure in the world, with beautiful

features, and the most gracious and winning address ever known. I

remember as if it were yesterday Prince Albert of Rammingen, a great

match but an old man. He came in his chariot with a numerous retinue,

and stayed long, taking it very hardly that my lady was not to be won;

but after a while he went. His place was taken by Count Frederick, a

brother of the Margrave of Anspach, a young gentleman who had received

his education in France, and was full of airs and graces, going sober

to bed every night, and speaking German with a French accent. Him my

lady soon sent about his business. The next was a more famous man,

Count Thurn of Bohemia, he who began the war by throwing Slawata and

Martinitz out of window in Prague, in '19, and paid for it by fifteen

years of exile. He wore such an air of mystery, and had such tales to

tell of flight and battle and hairbreadth escapes, that he was

scarcely less an object of curiosity in the town than Tilly himself;

but he knelt in vain. And in fine so it was with them all. My lady

would have none of them, but kept her maiden state and governed

Heritzburg and saw the years go by, content to all appearance with

Fraulein Anna and her talk, which was all of Voetius and Beza and

scores of other learned men, whose names I could never remember from

one hour to another.

It was my duty to wait upon her every day after morning service, and

receive her orders, and inform her of anything which I thought she

ought to know. At that hour she was to be found in her parlour, a

long room on the first floor of the castle, lighted by three

deeply-recessed windows and hung with old tapestry worked by her

great-grandmother in the dark days of the Emperor Charles, when the

Count of Heritzburg shared the imprisonment of the good Landgrave of

Hesse. A screen stood a little way within the door, and behind this it

was my business to wait, until I was called.

On this morning, however, I had no patience to wait, and I made myself

so objectionable by my constant coughing that at last she cried, with

a cheerful laugh, 'What is it, Martin? Come and tell me. Has there

been a fire in the forest? But it is not the right time of year for

that.'

'No, my lady,' I said, going forward. Then out of shyness or sheer

contradictoriness I found myself giving her the usual report of this

and that and the other, but never a word of what was in my mind. She

sat, according to her custom in summer, in the recess of the farthest

window, while Fraulein Anna occupied a stool placed before a

reading-desk. Behind the two the great window gave upon the valley. By

merely turning the head either of them could look over the red roofs

of Heritzburg to the green plain, which here was tolerably wide, and

beyond that again to the dark line of forest, which in spring and

autumn showed as blue to the eye as thick wood smoke.

While I spoke my lady toyed with a book she had been reading, and

Fraulein Anna turned over the pages on the desk with an impatient

hand, sometimes looking at my lady and sometimes tapping with her foot

on the floor. She was plump and fair and short, dressing plainly, and

always looking into the distance; whether because she thought much and

on deep matters, or because, as the Countess's woman once told me, she

could see nothing beyond the length of her arm, I cannot say. When I

had finished my report, and paused, she looked up at my lady and said,

'Now, Rotha, are you ready?'

'Not quite, Anna,' my lady answered, smiling. 'Martin has not done

yet.'

'He tells in ten minutes what another would in five,' Fraulein said

crossly. 'But to finish?'

'Yes, Martin, what is it?' my lady assented. 'We have eaten all the

pastry. The meat I am sure is yet to come.'

I saw that there was nothing else for it, and after all it was what I

had come to do. 'Your excellency knows the Bavarian soldier and his

daughter, who have been lodging these six months past at the Red

Hart?' I said.

'To be sure.'

'Klink talks of turning them out,' I continued, feeling my face grow

red I scarcely knew why.

'Is their money at an end?' the Countess asked shrewdly. She was a

great woman of business.

'No,' I answered, 'but I dare say it is low.'

'Then what is the matter?' my lady continued, looking at me somewhat

curiously.

'He says that they are Papists,' I answered. 'And it is true, as your

excellency knows, but it is not for him to say it. The man will not be

safe for an hour outside the walls, nor the girl much longer. And

there is a small child besides. And they have no where else to go.'

My lady's face grew grave while I spoke. When I stopped she rose and

stood fronting me, tapping on the reading-desk with her fingers. 'This

must not be allowed, Martin,' she said firmly. 'You were right to tell

me.'

'Master Hofman and the Minister----'

'Yes,' she interposed, nodding quickly. 'Go to them. They will see

Klink, and----'

'They are just pushing him on,' I said, with a groan.

'What!' she cried; and I remember to this day how her grey eyes

flashed and how she threw back her head in generous amazement. 'Do you

mean to say that this is being done in spite, Martin? That after

escaping all the perils of this wretched war these men are so

thankless as to turn on the first scape-goat that falls into their

hands? It is not possible!'

'It looks like it, my lady,' I muttered, wondering whether I had not

perhaps carried the matter too far.

'No, no,' she said, shaking her head, 'you must have made a mistake;

but go to Klink. Go to Klink and tell him from me to keep the man for

a week at least. I will be answerable for the cost, and we can

consider in the meantime what to do. My cousin the Waldgrave Rupert

visits me in a day or two, and I will consult him.'

Still I did not like to go without giving her a hint that she might

meet with opposition, and I hesitated, considering how I might warn

her without causing needless alarm or seeming to presume. Fraulein

Anna, who had listened throughout with the greatest impatience, took

advantage of the pause to interfere. 'Come, Rotha,' she said. 'Enough

trifling. Let us go back to Voetius and our day's work.'

'My dear,' the Countess answered somewhat coldly, 'this is my day's

work. I am trying to do it.'

'Your work is to improve and store your mind,' Fraulein Anna retorted

with peevishness.

'True,' my lady said quietly; 'but for a purpose.'

'There can be no purpose higher than the acquirement of

philosophy--and, religion,' Fraulein Anna said. Her last words sounded

like an afterthought.

My lady shook her head. 'The duty of a Princess is to govern,' she

said.

'How can she govern unless she has prepared her mind by study and

thought?' Fraulein Anna asked triumphantly.

'I agree within limits,' my lady answered. 'But----'

'There is no _but!_ Nor are there any limits that I see!' the other

rejoined eagerly. 'Let me read to you out of Voetius himself. In his

maxims----'

'Not this minute,' the Countess answered firmly. And thereby she

interrupted not Fraulein Anna alone but a calculation on which,

without any light from Voetius, I was engaged; namely, how long it

would take a man to mow an acre of ground if he spent all his time in

sharpening his scythe! Low matters of that kind however have nothing

in common with philosophy I suppose; and my lady's voice soon brought

me back to the point. 'What is it you want to say, Martin?' she asked.

'I see that you have something still on your mind.'

'I wish your excellency to be aware that there may be a good deal of

feeling in the town on this matter,' I said.

'You mean that I may make myself unpopular,' she answered.

That was what I did mean--that at the least. And I bowed.

My lady shook her head with a grave smile. 'I might give you an answer

from Voetius, Martin,' she said; 'that they who govern are created to

protect the weak against the strong. And if not, _cui bono?_ But that,

you may not understand. Shall I say then instead that I, and not

Hofman or Dietz, am Countess of Heritzburg.'

'My lady,' I cried--and I could have knelt before her--'that is answer

enough for me!'

'Then go,' she said, her face bright, 'and do as I told you.'

She turned away, and I made my reverence and went out and down the

stairs and through the great court with my head high and my heart high

also. I might not understand Voetius; but I understood that my lady

was one, who in face of all and in spite of all, come Hofman or Dietz,

come peace or war, would not blench, but stand by the right! And it

did me good. He is a bad horse that will not jump when his rider's

heart is right, and a bad servant that will not follow when his master

goes before! I hummed a tune, I rattled my staff on the stones. I said

to myself it was a thousand pities so gallant a spirit should be

wasted on a woman: and then again I fancied that I could not have

served a man as I knew I could and would serve her should time and the

call ever put me to the test.

The castle at Heritzburg, rising abruptly above the roofs of the

houses, is accessible from the town by a flight of steps cut in the

rock. On the other three sides the knob on which it stands is

separated from the wooded hills to which it belongs by a narrow

ravine, crossed in one place by a light horse-bridge made in modern

days. This forms the chief entrance to the castle, but the road which

leads to it from the town goes so far round that it is seldom used,

the flight of steps I have mentioned leading at once and more

conveniently from the end of the High Street. Half way down the High

Street on the right hand side is the Market-place, a small paved

square, shaded by tall wooden houses, and having a carved stone pump

in the middle. A hundred paces beyond this on the same side is the Red

Hart, standing just within the West Gate.

From one end of the town to the other is scarcely a step, and I was at

the inn before the Countess's voice had ceased to sound in my ears.

The door stood open, and I went in, expecting to find the kitchen

empty or nearly so at that hour of the day. To my surprise, I found at

least a dozen people in it, with as much noise and excitement going

forward as if the yearly fair had been in progress. For a moment I was

not observed. I had time to see who were present--Klink, the two

soldiers who had put themselves forward the evening before, and half a

score of idlers. Then the landlord's eye fell on me and he passed the

word. A sudden silence followed and a dozen faces turned my way; so

that the room, which was low in the roof with wide beetle-browed

windows, seemed to lighten.

'Just in time, Master Schwartz!' cried one fellow. 'You, can write,

and we are about a petition! Perhaps you will draw it up for us.'

'A petition,' I said shortly, eyeing the fellow with contempt. 'What

petition?'

'Against Papists!' he answered boldly.

'And favourers, aiders, and abettors!' exclaimed another in the

background.

'Master Klink, Master Klink,' I said, trying to frown down the crowd,

'you would do well to have a care. These ragamuffins----'

'Have a care yourself, Master Jackanapes!' the same voice cried. 'This

is a town meeting.'

'Town meeting!' I said, looking round contemptuously. 'Gaol-meeting,

you mean, and likely to be a gaol-filling. But I do not speak to you;

I leave that to the constable. For Master Klink, if he will take a

word of advice, I will speak with him alone.'

They cried out to him not to speak to me. But Klink had still sense

enough to know that he might be going too fast, and though they hooted

and laughed at him--being for the most part people who had nothing to

lose--he came out of the house with me and crossed the street that we

might talk unheard. As civilly as I could I delivered my message; and

as exactly, for I saw that the issue might be serious.

I was not surprised when he groaned, and in a kind of a tremor shook

his hands. 'I am not my own master, Schwartz,' he said. 'And that is

the truth.'

'You were your own master last night,' I retorted.

'These fellows are all for "No Popery."'

'Ay, and who gave them the cue?' I said sharply. 'It is not the first

time that the fat burgher has raised the lean kine and been eaten by

them. Nor will it be the last. It serves you right.'

'I am willing enough to do what my lady wishes,' he whimpered;

'but----'

'But you are not master of your own house, do you mean?' I exclaimed.

'Then fetch the constable. That is simple. Or the Burgomaster.'

'Hush!' he said, 'he is hotter than any one.'

'Then,' I answered flatly, 'he had better cool, and you too. That is

all I have to say. And mark me, Klink,' I continued sternly, 'see that

no harm happens to that girl or her father. They are in your house,

and you have heard what my lady says. Let those ruffians interfere

with them and you will be held to answer for it.'

'That is easy talking,' he muttered peevishly; 'but if I cannot help

it?'

'You will have to help it!' I rejoined, losing my temper a little.

'You were fool enough, or I am much mistaken, to set a light to this

stack, and now you will have to smother the flame, or pay for it. That

is all, my friend. You have had fair warning. The rest is in your own

hands.'

And with that I left him. He was a stupid man but a sly one too, and I

doubted his sincerity, or I might have taken another way with him. In

the end, doubtless, it would have been the same.

As I turned on my heel to go, the troop round the door raised a kind

of hoot; and this pursued me as I went up the street, bringing the

blood to my cheeks and almost provoking me to return. I checked the

impulse however, and strode on as if I did not hear; and by the time I

reached the market-place the cry had ceased. Here however it began

afresh; a number of loose fellows and lads who were loafing about the

stalls crying 'No Popery!' and 'Popish Schwartz!' as I passed, in a

way which showed that the thing was premeditated and that they had

been lying in wait for me. I stopped and scowled at them, and for a

moment they ceased. But the instant my back was turned the hooting

began again--with an ugly savage note in it--and I had not got quite

clear of the place when some one flung a bundle of carrots, which hit

me sharply on the back. I swung round in a rage at that, and dashed

hot foot into the middle of the stalls in the hope of catching the

fellow. But I was too late; an old woman over whom I fell was the only

sufferer. The rascals had fled down an alley, and, contenting myself

with crying after them that they were a set of cowards, I set the old

lady on her legs, and went on my way.

But I had my thoughts. Such an insult had not been offered to me since

I first came to the town to serve my lady, and it filled me with

indignation. It seemed, besides, not a thing to be sneezed at. I took

it for a sign of change, of bad times coming. Moreover--and this

troubled me as much as anything--I had recognised among the fellows in

the square two more of the fifty men my lady had sent to serve with

Hesse. There seemed ground for fearing that they had deserted in a

body and come back and were in hiding. If this were so, and the

Burgomaster, instead of repressing them, encouraged their excesses,

they were likely to prove a source of trouble and danger--real danger.

I paused on the steps leading up to the castle, in two minds whether I

should not go to the Burgomaster and tell him plainly what I thought;

for I felt the responsibility. My lady had no male protector, no

higher servant than myself, and we had not a dozen capable men in the

castle. The Landgrave of Hesse, our over-lord, was away with the King

of Sweden, and we could expect no immediate support from him. In the

event of a riot in the town therefore--and I knew that, in the great

Peasants' War of a century before, our town had been rebellious

enough--we should be practically helpless. An hour and a little

ill-fortune might place my lady in the hands of her mutinous subjects;

and though the Landgrave would be certain sooner or later to chastise

them, many things might happen in the interval.

In the end I went on up the steps, thinking that I had better leave

Hofman alone, since I could not trust him, and should only by applying

to him disclose our weakness. There was a way indeed which occurred to

me as I reached the head of the stairs, but I had not taken two steps

across the terrace, as we call that part of the court which overlooks

the town, before it was immediately driven out again. Fraulein Max was

walking up and down with a book, sunning herself. I think that she had

been watching for me, for the moment I appeared she called to me.

I went up to her reluctantly. I was anxious, and in no mood to listen

to one of those learned disquisitions with which she would sometimes

favour us, without any thought whether we understood her or no. But

this I soon found was not what I had to fear. Her face wore a frown

and her tone was peevish; but she closed her book, keeping her place

in it with her finger.

'Master Martin,' she said, peering at me with her shortsighted eyes,

'you are a very foolish man, I think.'

'Fraulein!' I muttered in surprise. What did she mean?

'A very foolish one!' she repeated. 'Why are you disturbing your lady?

Why do you not leave her to her studies and her peace instead of

distracting her mind with these stories of a man and a girl? A man and

a girl, and Papists! Piff! What are they to us? Don't you understand

that your lady has higher work and something else to do? Go you and

look after your man and girl.'

'But my lady's subjects, Fraulein----'

'Her subjects?' she replied, almost violently. 'Papists are no

subjects. Or to what purpose the _Cujus Regio?_ But what do you know

of government? You have heard and you repeat.'

'But, Fraulein,' I said humbly, for her way of talking made me seem

altogether in the wrong, and a monster of indiscretion, 'if my lady

does not interfere, the man and the girl you speak of will suffer.

That is clear.'

She snapped her fingers.

'Piff!' she cried, screwing up her eyes still more. 'What has that to

do with us? Is there not suffering going on from one end of Germany to

the other? Do not scores die every day, every hour? Can we prevent it?

No. Then why trouble us for this one little, little matter? It is

theirs to suffer, and ours to think and read, and learn and write. We

were at peace to do all this, and then you come with your man and

girl, and the peace is gone!'

'But, Fraulein----'

'You do no good by saying Fraulein, Fraulein!' she replied. 'Look at

things in the light of reason. Trouble us no more. That is what you

have to do. What are this man and girl to you that you should endanger

your mistress for their sakes?'

'They are nothing to me,' I answered.

'Then let them go!' she replied with suppressed passion. 'And undo

your folly the best way you can, and the sooner the better! Chut! That

when the mind is set on higher things it should be distracted by such

mean and miserable objects! If they are nothing to you, why in

heaven's name obtrude them on us?'

After that she would not hear another word, but dismissed me with a

wave of her hand as if the thing were fully settled and over; burying

herself in her book and turning away, while I went into the house with

my tail between my legs and all my doubts and misgivings increased a

hundredfold. For this which she had put into words was the very

thought, the very way out of it, which had occurred to me! I had only

to let the matter drop, I had only to leave these people to their

fate, and the danger and difficulty were at once at an end. For a time

my lady's authority might suffer perhaps; but at the proper season,

when the Landgrave was at home and could help us, we might cheaply

assert and confirm it.

All that day I went about in doubt what I should do; and night came

without resolving my perplexities. At one moment I thought of my duty

to my lady, and the calamities in which I might involve her. At

another I pictured the girl I had seen praying by her father's

bed--pictured her alone and defenceless, hourly insulted by Klink, and

with terror and uncertainty looming each day larger before her eyes:

or, worse still, abandoned to all the dangers which awaited her, in

the event of the town refusing to give her shelter. Considering that I

had seen her once only--to notice her--it was wonderful how clearly I

remembered her.