sat there as incapable of opposition as of coming to a resolution of
his own. “The means are desperate,” said Talander, “but I see no other
way of proceeding.”
“But what of the imperial band?” sighed the old baron.
“We do not resist the imperial troops,” argued the magister, cunningly.
“We only protect our property against marauders and robbers, who
plunder the country contrary to the will of his imperial majesty.”
“Tell the people from the balcony that I act in accordance with your
wish,” said Axel, “and leave the rest to me.”
Starschedel looked inquiringly at his oracle, who returned a nod of
approbation, and submitted patiently to be dragged to the balcony by
Axel, where he delivered general orders of obedience to Axel, though
often interrupted by shortness of breath. A loud _vivat_ resounded
from the robust Saxon youths, who were eager to fight.
With proud satisfaction Tugendreich looked down on the singular groom
who instructed the armed band in the court-yard as if he had been used
to military duty all his life, assigned to every one his post in the
court-yard, ordered the placing of men, cattle, and property, and then
sallied forth with the mounted servants to reconnoitre the enemy. The
baron, in the meanwhile, buried with trembling hands a casket of jewels
in the cellar, while master Talander looked through his long telescope
at the stars which now began to appear, compared his observations with
the singular circles, lines, and signs upon a large table, and then
made his calculations until the drops of perspiration stood upon his
forehead, examining the results now with a joyful nod, and now with a
thoughtful shake of his white head. At midnight the reconnoitring corp
returned. The garrison was summoned with beating of drums, and Axel
addressed them as follows: “The Croats will presently enter the village
and will not spare any thing; the sky is already red with their
torches; they will burn here also, but we shall be secure behind these
walls while you show yourselves to be men. Bear in mind that you are
to fight for your good lord and his noble daughter, for the pure
doctrine of the gospel, for your venerable pastor, for the honour of
your wives, and for the lives of your children. Now long life to the
elector!”
“Long life to the elector!” shouted the band after him, joyfully; but
the “_Hoch_” stuck in many a throat, as at this moment the music of the
approaching Croats chimed in with their “_Vivat_” as a flourish.
“To your posts,” cried Axel in a thundering voice, and then once more
looking to the draw bridge, he ordered the gates to be secured and
ascended the battlements of the _donjon_. A wild tumult was now heard
in the village. The Croats searched boisterously for the inhabitants
and provisions but in vain, and therefore avenged their disappointment
upon the doors and windows of the cottages. At length a troop with
torches galloped up to the castle, startled at the drawn bridge and
sounded the trumpet as a summons for admittance. The trumpet within
the castle was sounded in answer, and Axel asked in military form what
was their wish.
“Down with the bridge first,” blustered an infuriated captain of the
Croats in broken German, “and then you will see what we want.”
“Show us the orders of his Imperial Majesty and our Elector, that this
castle is to receive a garrison,” replied Axel, modestly, “and the
bridge shall immediately be lowered.”
At this the foreign barbarian foamed with rage, snatched his carbine
from his saddle and fired it at Axel. The bullet missed, and Axel in
return sent a bullet from his gun whizzing through the cap of the Croat.
“This is to teach you uncivilized fellows the usage of war, that no
shot should be fired during a parley,” he cried. “My shot was only to
warn you of this; but if you do not draw off, the next shall be in
earnest.” Upon this the captain swearing turned his horse round and
galloped madly back into the village with his troops.
As Axel was turning to descend, he saw Tugendreich standing before him
as pale and motionless as a statue. “For heaven’s sake, Fräulein,” he
cried, “what are you doing up here? this is not a place for a gentle
lady.”
“I heard firing,” said the lovely girl, sighing deeply; “I thought you
were in danger, and could not longer remain below.”
“Faithful heart!” exclaimed he, with emotion and affection. “By all
that I hold sacred I will some day requite you.” And quickly taking
her in his strong arms he carried her down the steps, and consigned her
to her attendant, whom he strictly enjoined not to allow the Fräulein
to ascend the walls again. He then returned quickly to his post, as he
already heard resounding through the night the march of the approaching
enemy threatening the castle.
Suddenly the thatched cottages of the villages were blazing up in a
terrible manner. Amid the light of the flames the Croats assaulted the
castle in close bodies and with wild fury. But the garrison made a
brave resistance, and their rifles created great havoc among the
enemies’ ranks. Axel was everywhere, and though the Croats attempted
in different places to scale the walls by the aid of ladders, he
immediately was at the spot, to strike down the foremost, and then with
powerful hand to precipitate ladder and all into the moat. For an hour
the most furious combat had been raging when the enemies’ trumpets
sounded the retreat, and the infuriated captain who led the rear cried
out with a savage laugh, “At sunrise we shall return with heavy cannon,
and show you who we are.”
The morning dawned after a sleepless night, and found the two old
gentlemen sitting sorrowfully in Talander’s closet, which was
bomb-proof. The lamp was nearly out, and they started up terrified on
hearing the trumpet sound outside the castle walls. After a short time
Axel, who had been wounded in the cheek, entered, announcing Baron
Grotta, lieutenant-colonel in the imperial army, saying, “My lords, the
colonel awaits you in the hall: for heaven’s sake show no fear, and let
the magister settle the terms of a capitulation.”
He consented and left the room. On arriving in the hall a fine-looking
officer met him, whose countenance might be called beautiful, had there
not been an expression of defiance and haughtiness about the eyes and
mouth which detracted from the impression first produced. After the
usual civilities had been exchanged, the stranger informed him that a
division of the imperial army was to pass through the village on that
day, and that their general had learned with astonishment the audacity
with which the castle had opposed their light troops; that he was
inclined, however, to pardon this, knowing the rapacity and outrages of
the Croats, who made no distinction between friend and foe; but that
now he expected the castle to be surrendered to him immediately.
“On what conditions,” asked the astonished baron.
“Methinks you ought to be glad if an imperial general,” said he in a
sarcastic tone, “after what has happened, once more kindly invites you
to trust blindly to his generosity. At all events it is more advisable
for you to open your gates than to let our cannons burst them open.”
At this moment the beautiful Tugendreich entered the hall, followed by
a servant with flasks and goblets. Love, with its joys and sorrows had
diffused a supernatural charm over her noble countenance, which did not
fail to produce so magical an effect upon the warrior, that he at once
in a gentler tone added to his menaces the question, “Is this your
daughter?” The baron then introduced her, and the stranger took the
brimming goblet she presented to him, and in a polite manner asked on
what conditions the castle would capitulate. The baron pleading
indisposition in consequence of the nightly assault promised to send
his chaplain to negociate, and left the hall delighted to be released
from this purgatory. The experienced hero now addressed himself
courteously to the Fräulein, and after condoling with her on account of
the terrors of the past night, and expressing his satisfaction at being
able to contribute something to alleviate their present situation, was
beginning to get as sentimental as it became a soldier in the thirty
years’ war, when old Talander entered bowing, followed by Axel, who,
unarmed, and in a respectful manner, brought in writing materials.
“In the name of my noble master I am to have the honour of treating
with you, gallant sir,” said he in a submissive tone; “we have only a
few just conditions to propose, which I beg your gracious permission to
state.”
“Granted,” said the colonel, casting an expressive look at the
Fräulein, which told her it was only on her account that he granted any
conditions whatever. The magister began to read the following
propositions: “Unconditional amnesty for the past night; liberty for
religion and her servants until the fate of this country is decided;
exemption from all contributions under whatever name or pretext they
may be demanded.”
“Great demands,” interrupted the colonel.
“In return, Baron Von Starschedel grants to the troops of his imperial
majesty the right of garrison in his castle,” continued Talander.
“But only to the regiment of Tiefenbach,” interrupted Axel, hastily.
“It is best disciplined, and the promise which your general has given
us in writing is a security of the capitulation being kept.”
With angry astonishment the stranger looked at the insolent groom.
Tugendreich and Talander showed consternation. The magister broke the
silence by saying, “The hasty interruption of this young man reminds me
of two important points which my old head had forgotten; I therefore
hasten to supply them.”
While the magister was writing, Tugendreich observed, in a gentle tone,
as she suddenly became conscious of the influence of her sex, “So
gallant a man as the colonel will certainly do his utmost to concede
such reasonable conditions.”
“What would I not do, for a kind look from those eyes?” said he
tenderly, and he took from Talander’s hands the points he had written
down, made a military bow to the Fräulein, cast a look of contempt on
Axel as he departed, and was soon seen to gallop through the gate.
A quarter of an hour had scarcely elapsed, when the chains of the
drawbridge and the creaking of the gate were heard again, and the
colonel gallopped into the court-yard, waving the signed capitulation
on high as a banner of peace. With great respect and delight, the
baron went to meet him at the castle entrance, and the welcome officer
dismounted with graceful ease from his charger, giving the bridle with
a haughty contempt into Axel’s hands, evidently to make him conscious
of the respect which was due to him, and which he had before forgotten.
One of his fellow grooms, seeing the anger which flashed from the eyes
of Axel at this pointed humiliation, took the horse from him and led
him about. The colonel did not fail observing this, and to complete
the mortification of the insolent servant, he set his foot on the steps
of the entrance, and called to Axel, “Groom, my right spur galls me,
loosen it.”
“I will let your groom know that you want him,” said Axel haughtily,
“if you will have the condescension to tell me where I can find him.”
The colonel’s face reddened with indignation, and addressing the baron,
biting and grinding his teeth, he requested him to remind his groom of
his duty, as his rank demanded he should insist upon it. The baron
satisfied his demands in a ludicrous manner, not knowing in his heart,
of whom he was most afraid. Axel shook his head in silence. “Pray,
good Axel,” whispered the baron entreatingly, “when you have often
fastened my spurs, will you refuse it to a person of such distinction.
“I honour and love you as a father,” said Axel, “and consider it no
disgrace to serve you; I would willingly perform the most menial
services for you, but cannot suffer indignity from the haughtiness of a
stranger.”
“I am curious to see,” said the stranger scornfully, “whether the
master or the servant will get the best of this singular dispute.”
And, irritated by this observation, and working himself up into a
passion in order to gain his point, the baron cried, “Either you loosen
the spurs, or you quit my service immediately.”
“I go, gracious master,” said Axel most respectfully. “I know you are
safe for some time to come, and I carry with me the delightful
satisfaction of having so far contributed to your safety. Remember
sometimes, kindly, your faithful servant;” and, shaking heartily the
hand which the baron offered him, he went to the stable to pack up his
knapsack.
Absorbed in secret dreams, Tugendreich stood in a grotto in the garden,
and did not even hear the drums of a company of Tiefenbach’s regiment
which was entering the castle, when suddenly Axel stood before her with
the knapsack on his back. “Your father has dismissed me from his
service,” he said, with emotion, “but I shall never quit yours, sweet
Fräulein. You shall soon hear of me.” With tears in his eyes, he
offered a forget-me-not, which she could not refuse accepting from the
hand that still showed the scar from the descent into the shaft.
“But,” continued he, recollecting himself, “this keepsake will soon be
destroyed, therefore take another of a solid material from my own
native country.” And, taking out a Swedish copper dollar, he broke it
with gigantic strength, offered one-half to the Fräulein, and said, “He
who shall bring you the other half will come from me.” Before
Tugendreich was aware how she had got the burning kiss which glowed
upon her lips he had vanished, and Talander stood before her like a
personified lecture. He was on the point of delivering it, when the
baron, who was somewhat wearied by the first impetuous demands of his
new guest, approached in a gloomy mood, and asked, astonished and
peevishly, “What was the meaning of the flower which the Fräulein was
still affectionately contemplating?”
“I was just disputing with the good magister about it,” replied she,
with genuine female composure, whilst she wiped away her last tears.
“Being my instructor in botany, he thinks he can make me believe
anything. Only think, he maintains that this is the _Myosotis
palustris_, or mouse-ear, and it is evidently the _Veronica
chamaedrys_, or germander, which moreover rhymes with Talander. Am I
not right, dear father?” So saying, she bounded away out of the
garden, to cast, if possible, one more look from the tower after her
departing favourite, whilst Talander raised his hands in utter
astonishment at the consummate ingenuity which his timid pupil so
readily displayed.
* * * * *
The calamities of war which the large armies marching to and fro
brought upon the country did not press with particular weight upon the
inhabitants of the castle. For this they were indebted to the colonel
who was quartered within it with his company. But it soon became
evident that his services were not altogether disinterested, for he
daily made nearer and more evident advances towards the beautiful
daughter of the house, and ventured many a time to storm her heart with
tender, chivalrous courtesy. His noble demeanour and manly beauty, in
addition to his high rank as a soldier, his birth and his fortune,
powerfully supported his suit. But an invincible antagonist was in
Tugendreich’s heart; the image of poor Axel and the half-copper dollar
were to her a more precious treasure than the rich necklace which Baron
Grotta ordered from Dresden, and which she was forced to accept by the
command of her father. A dim foreboding seemed to tell the proud
colonel what rival he had to contend with, and the recollection of the
handsome insolent groom and the scene with the spur began to assume the
shape of a suspicion which produced ill humour. This was expressed in
many contemptuous observations concerning low-born persons, and his
scorn at their desire to force their way into the upper classes daily
wearied the patience of old Talander, who entertained very high notions
of his own worth as a man. When it happened upon one occasion that the
colonel in his presence boasted rather too complacently to the Fräulein
of his hereditary privileges, the old man commenced reading a passage
from a poem which an old collegian had sent him from Halle, running
thus:[3]
“Ye who prefer your dross to silver pure and fine,
And think your glass as good as diamonds from the mine;
I mean you, who in lists of ancestors take pride,
And seem so many noughts set other noughts beside;
Who worship that vain idol--old nobilitié,
Ye truly are besotted--I pray ye, pardon me.”
The colonel looked with eyes of wonder, which, in spite of the
_captatio benevolentiæ_ in the concluding line, expressed no
forgiveness, at the daring magister who, however, was not silent, but
continued reading.
“The flags your sires have left, of what avail are they?
And what avails the plume that decks your arms so gay?
The helm and shield bequeath’d by men who liv’d of yore,
The burnish’d arms ye keep a thousand years in store,
Are vanities; and he that’s wise will say, indeed,
When real worth appears they must perforce recede.”
At this the colonel left the room in a blustering manner as if he
anticipated the sixteen lines of the poem which were yet to come, and
with which Talander intended to treat him. The door closed after him
with a great noise, and a pressure of the Fräulein’s hand thanked the
grey knight who had so victoriously beaten that powerful enemy of her
secret wishes out of the field.
But this satisfaction was not of long duration. The colonel,
despairing of obtaining the hand of his chosen one, in the modern way,
that is to say, by his own powers of persuasion, chose the ancient
plan, and called to his aid paternal authority. Poor Starschedel had
to maintain a difficult position between the importunity of the noble
suitor, the tears of his daughter, and the _veto_ of Talander who, with
the eloquence of a confessor, imposed the denial as a matter of
conscience upon his protestant master. But here, as every where else,
power and rank at last conquered. The colonel’s _corps_ received
orders to join Tilly’s, who expected to fight a pitched battle, and he,
therefore, vehemently urged a quick decision. The baron, who could not
resist, announced to his pale daughter the following morning as the day
on which she was to be betrothed, adding with the utmost energy that
this was his unalterable will. He then left her quickly, fearing his
resolution might be changed by her imploring looks. The poor girl
retired into the garden unconscious of what she was doing, and standing
before the rose-tree which had witnessed the first kiss of Axel, looked
sorrowfully to the grotto of his last farewell. Suddenly a capuchin
friar, with a white beard, stood before her silently presenting half a
copper dollar. “For heaven’s sake tell me whether you come from Axel?”
cried the lovely maiden trembling, while her pale cheeks were suffused
with blushes.
“I come from him,” replied a strong unknown voice. “He now serves as
dragoon in the Swedish army, which is about to engage in a pitched
battle. Before this takes place he wishes once more to see you, and
bid you farewell. But at present he does not venture here, and
therefore entreats you to meet him this night on the Mordmühle in the
_scharfen Thale_. You may bring the old magister with you, and safe
conduct is provided for you thither and back. Axel will wait there for
you until one o’clock, at which time his duty will oblige him to leave.
Will you come?”
“I will come,” whispered the Fräulein, after a short struggle.
The capuchin now hastened with long unfriar-like strides towards the
high garden wall, climbed it nimbly like a cat and disappeared. At
this moment Talander entered the garden to speak a few words of
consolation to his pupil concerning the terrible morrow. But his words
of unction died on his eloquent tongue, when the Fräulein made him the
singular proposal to accompany her that night on a promenade to the
Mordmühle. He refused, she entreated, he remonstrated, she coaxed him,
he was inexorable, she wept, and he, incapable of resisting tears from
such eyes said, at length ‘_concedo_.’
Whoever knew the Mordmühle could not but think the demand of Axel
hazardous. It lay in a narrow valley formed by steep rocks, and lofty
black pines, through which rushed the dark fierce torrent, and its last
proprietor, whose soul was burthened with the commission of many
murders, had fallen by the hand of his own son. The shepherds only
dared during the day to let their herds graze in the rich pasture of
the meadow surrounding the mill. As soon as evening twilight
approached every living thing fled the awful precincts, within which,
according to popular tradition, only the spirits of the murdered held
their fearful haunts. Tugendreich was not quite free from the
superstition of the times, but strong love, which conquers every
obstacle, overcame her fear, and when the last glow of evening in the
west reddened the sky, she had contrived to get rid of her father and
the importunate suitor, and commenced her heroic journey with the
grumbling magister. As they came to the last heap of the ruins of the
desolated village he drew her attention to four tall figures in dark
clothes, who started up suddenly with a clattering noise, as if at the
word of command, from behind the wall of a cottage that was burnt down,
and accompanied them step by step, surrounding them on all sides.
Tugendreich recollecting the promised escort walked on fearlessly. But
as they entered the valley, the moon rising from behind the lofty firs,
and the church clock in a neighbouring village striking twelve, she
felt some alarm, and now fancied she heard but too distinctly the
wheels of the long deserted mill in full motion, which at this time,
and under these circumstances, could not be caused by any one but evil
spirits. Her companion silently shared her fears and thoughts, being
moreover already so terrified by the figures who accompanied them in
cloaks, that the drops stood on his face. At length he broke the awful
silence, saying:
“Child, I have complied with your wish, I have put my life in jeopardy
and come this accursed walk. Now tell me, daughter, what do you wish
to do in the most ill-famed corner of this country?”
“To bid farewell to Axel,” said the Fräulein, “he has appointed to meet
me here.”
“To Axel. I wish I had known that,” muttered the magister, adding in
an admonishing tone, “Have you perhaps been deceived by a hellish
phantom? There are instances in which the evil one, with divine
permission, avails himself of an excessive forbidden love in order
subtilely to destroy a soul. The place and time of your appointment
are not in accordance with my notions of propriety. Supposing your
singular admirer were dead, and that his departed spirit had sent you
this summons, and was waiting for you in the Mordmühle with his
outstretched bony arms, to draw you into the dark subterranean bridal
chamber?”
At this instant the speaker was interrupted by a loud and
long-continued blast of a bugle, which was answered from the mill, the
wheels of which were really revolving with a terrible noise, and
emitted a thousand silvery sparks which were reflected by the
moonlight: a tall man came out from the mill. The foremost of the four
attendants approached him with respect, and a moment after Tugendreich
was in the arms of Axel, reclining her burning cheeks against his
beating heart.
“Come into the mill, beloved girl,” he whispered imploringly, “we are
not quite safe here from discovery. You, reverend sir, will bear us
company. I thank you for having conducted the Fräulein hither.”
The magister followed the two lovers, shaking his head in doubts at the
suspicious dwelling.
“Let every thing proceed as I have already ordered,” said Axel, in a
tone of command, to the tall figures who had posted themselves outside
the door like statues, “and do not stop the wheels of the mill until
the Fräulein is again safe.”