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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/5573.txt b/5573.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..203fcc4 --- /dev/null +++ b/5573.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2780 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook A Word Only A Word, by Georg Ebers, v2 +#134 in our series by Georg Ebers + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers***** + + +Title: A Word Only A Word, Volume 2. + +Author: Georg Ebers + +Release Date: April, 2004 [EBook #5573] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on August 12, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + + + + + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A WORD ONLY A WORD, BY EBERS, V2 *** + + + +This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + + + +[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the +file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an +entire meal of them. D.W.] + + + + + +A WORD, ONLY A WORD + +By Georg Ebers + +Volume 2. + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +The magistrate's horses did not reach the city gate, from the monastery, +more quickly than Ulrich. + +As soon as the smith was roused from sleep by the boy's knock and +recognized his voice, he knew what was coming, and silently listened to +the lad's confessions, while he himself hurriedly yet carefully took out +his hidden hoard, filled a bag with the most necessary articles, thrust +his lightest hammer into his belt, and poured water on the glimmering +coals. Then, locking the door, he sent Ulrich to Hangemarx, with whom he +had already settled many things; for Caspar, the juggler, who learned +more through his daughters than any other man, had come to him the day +before, to tell him that something was being plotted against the Jew. + +Adam found the latter still awake and at work. He was prepared for the +danger that threatened him, and ready to fly. No word of complaint, not +even a hasty gesture betrayed the mental anguish of the persecuted man, +and the smith's heart melted, as he heard the doctor rouse his wife and +child from their sleep. + +The terrified moans of the startled wife, and Ruth's loud weeping and +curious questions, were soon drowned by the lamentations of old Rahel, +who wrapped in even more kerchiefs than usual, rushed into the sitting- +room, and while lamenting and scolding in a foreign tongue, gathered +together everything that lay at hand. She had dragged a large chest +after her, and now threw in candlesticks, jugs, and even the chessmen and +Ruth's old doll with a broken head. + +When the third hour after midnight came, the doctor was ready for +departure. + +Marx's charcoal sledge, with its little horse, stopped before the door. + +This was a strange animal, no larger than a calf, as thin as a goat, and +in some places woolly, in others as bare as a scraped poodle. + +The smith helped the dumb woman into the sleigh, the doctor put Ruth in +her lap, Ulrich consoled the child, who asked him all sorts of questions, +but the old woman would not part from the chest, and could scarcely be +induced to enter the vehicle. + +"You know, across the mountains into the Rhine valley--no matter where," +Costa whispered to the poacher. + +Hangemarx urged on his little horse, and answered, not turning to the +Israelite, who had addressed him, but to Adam, who he thought would +understand him better than the bookworm: "It won't do to go up the +ravine, without making any circuit. The count's hounds will track us, +if they follow. We'll go first up the high road by the Lautenhof. +To-morrow will be a fair-day. People will come early from the villages +and tread down the snow, so the dogs will lose the scent. If it would +only snow." + +Before the smithy, the doctor held out his hand to Adam, saying: "We part +here, friend." + +"We'll go with you, if agreeable to you." + +"Consider," the other began warningly, but Adam interrupted him, saying: + +"I have considered everything; lost is lost. Ulrich, take the doctor's +sack from his shoulder." + +For a long time nothing more was said. + +The night was clear and cold; the men's footsteps fell noiselessly on the +soft snow, nothing was heard except the creaking of the sledge, and ever +and anon Elizabeth's low moaning, or a louder word in the old woman's +soliloquy. Ruth had fallen asleep on her mother's lap, and was breathing +heavily. + +At Lautenhof a narrow path led through the mountains deep into the +forest. + +As it grew steeper, the snow became knee-deep, and the men helped the +little horse, which often coughed, tossing its thick head up and down, as +if working a churn. Once, when the poor creature met with a very heavy +fall, Marx pointed to the green woollen scarf on the animal's neck, and +whispered to the smith "Twenty years old, and has the glanders besides." + +The little beast nodded slowly and mournfully, as if to say: "Life is +hard; this will probably be the last time I draw a sleigh." + +The broad, heavy-laden pine-boughs drooped wearily by the roadside, the +gleaming surface of the snow stretched in a monotonous sheet of white +between the trunks of the trees, the tops of the dark rocks beside the +way bore smooth white caps of loose snow, the forest stream was frozen +along the edges, only in the centre did the water trickle through snow- +crystals and sharp icicles to the valley. + +So long as the moon shone, flickering rays danced and sparkled on the ice +and snow, but afterwards only the tedious glimmer of the universal snow- +pall lighted the traveller's way. + +"If it would only snow!" repeated the charcoal-burner. + +The higher they went, the deeper grew the snow, the more wearisome the +wading and climbing. + +Often, on the doctor's account, the smith called in a low voice, "Halt!" +and then Costa approached the sleigh and asked: "How do you feel?" or +said: "We are getting on bravely." + +Rahel screamed whenever a fox barked in the distance, a wolf howled, or +an owl flew through the treetops, brushing the snow from the branches +with its wings; but the others also started. Marx alone walked quietly +and undisturbed beside his little horse's thick head; he was familiar +with all the voices of the forest. + +It grew colder towards morning. Ruth woke and cried, and her father, +panting for breath, asked: "When shall we rest?" + +"Behind the height; ten arrow-shots farther," replied the charcoal- +burner. + +"Courage," whispered the smith. "Get on the sledge, doctor; we'll push." + +But Costa shook his head, pointed to the panting horse, and dragged +himself onward. + +The poacher must have sent his arrows in a strange curve, for one quarter +of an hour after another slipped by, and the top was not yet gained. +Meantime it grew lighter and lighter, and the charcoal-burner, with +increasing anxiety, ever and anon raised his head, and glanced aside. +The sky was covered with clouds-the light overhead grey, dim, and blended +with mist. The snow was still dazzling, though it no longer sparkled and +glittered, but covered every object with the dull whiteness of chalk. + +Ulrich kept beside the sledge to push it. When Ruth heard him groan, she +stroked the hand that grasped the edges, this pleased him; and he smiled. + +When they again stopped, this time on the crest of the ridge, Ulrich +noticed that the charcoal-burner was sniffing the air like a hound, and +asked: + +"What is it, Marxle?" + +The poacher grinned, as he answered: "It's going to snow; I smell it." + +The road now led down towards the valley, and, after a short walk, the +charcoal-burner said: + +"We shall find shelter below with Jorg, and a warm fire too, you poor +women." + +These were cheering words, and came just at the right time, for large +snow-flakes began to fill the air, and a light breeze drove them into +the travellers' faces. "There!" cried Ulrich, pointing to the snow +covered roof of a wooden hut, that stood close before them in a clearing +on the edge of the forest. + +Every face brightened, but Marx shook his head doubtfully, muttering: + +"No smoke, no barking; the place is empty. Jorg has gone. At +Whitsuntide--how many years ago is it?--the boys left to act as +raftsmen, but then he stayed here." + +Reckoning time was not the charcoal-burner's strong point; and the empty +hut, the dreary open window-casements in the mouldering wooden walls, the +holes in the roof, through which a quantity of snow had drifted into the +only room in the deserted house, indicated that no human being had sought +shelter here for many a winter. + +Old Rahel uttered a fresh wail of grief, when she saw this shelter; but +after the men had removed the snow as well as they could, and covered the +holes in the roof with pine-branches; when Adam had lighted a fire, and +the sacks and coverlets were brought in from the sledge, and laid on a +dry spot to furnish seats for the women, fresh courage entered their +hearts, and Rahel, unasked, dragged herself to the hearth, and set the +snow-filled pot on the fire. + +"The nag must have two hours' rest," Marx said, "then they could push on +and reach the miller in the ravine before night. There they would find +kind friends, for Jacklein had been with him among the 'peasants.'" +The snow-water boiled, the doctor and his wife rested, Ulrich and Ruth +brought wood, which the smith had split, to the fire to dry, when +suddenly a terrible cry of grief rang outside of the hut. + +Costa hastily rose, the children followed, and old Rahel, whimpering, +drew the upper kerchief on her head over her face. + +The little horse, its tiny legs stretched far apart, was lying in the +snow by the sledge. Beside it knelt Marx, holding the clumsy head on his +knee, and blowing with his crooked mouth into the animal's nostrils. The +creature showed its yellow teeth, and put out its bluish tongue as if it +wanted to lick him; then the heavy head fell, the dying animal's eyes +started from their sockets, its legs grew perfectly stiff, and this time +the horse was really dead, while the shafts of the sledge vainly thrust +themselves into the air, like the gaping mouth of a deserted bird. + +No farther progress was possible. The women sat trembling in the hut, +roasting before the fire, and shivering when a draught touched them.... +Ruth wept for the poor little horse, and Marx sat as if utterly crushed +beside his old friend's stiffening body, heeding nothing, least of all +the snow, which was making him whiter than the miller, with whom he had +expected to rest that evening. The doctor gazed in mute despair at his +dumb wife, who, with clasped hands, was praying fervently; the smith +pressed his hand upon his brow, vainly pondering over what was to be done +now, until his head ached; while, from the distance, echoed the howl of a +hungry wolf, and a pair of ravens alighted on a white bough beside the +little horse, gazing greedily at the corpse lying in the snow. + +Meantime, the abbot was sitting in his pleasantly-warmed study, which was +pervaded by a faint, agreeable perfume, gazing now at the logs burning in +the beautiful marble mantel-piece, and then at the magistrate, who had +brought him strange tidings. + +The prelate's white woollen morning-robe clung closely around his stately +figure. Beside him lay, side by side, for comparison, two manuscript +copies of his favorite book, the idyls of Theocritus, which, for his +amusement, and to excel the translation of Coban Hesse, he was turning +into Latin verse, as the duties of his office gave him leisure. + +The magistrate was standing by the fire-side. He was a thick-set man of +middle height, with a large head, and clever but coarse features, as +rudely moulded as if they had been carved from wood. He was one of the +best informed lawyers in the country, and his words flowed as smoothly +and clearly from his strong lips, as if every thought in his keen brain +was born fully matured and beautifully finished. + +In the farthest corner of the room, awaiting a sign from his master, +stood the magistrate's clerk, a little man with a round head, and legs +like the sickle of the waxing or waning moon. He carried under his short +arms two portfolios, filled with important papers. + +"He comes from Portugal, and has lived under an assumed name?" So the +abbot repeated, what he had just heard. + +"His name is Lopez, not Costa," replied the other; "these papers prove +it. Give me the portfolio, man! The diploma is in the brown one." + +He handed a parchment to the prelate, who, after reading it, said firmly: + +"This Jew is a more important person than we supposed. They are not +lavish with such praise in Coimbra. Are you taking good care of the +doctor's books Herr Conrad? I will look at them to-morrow." + +"They are at your disposal. These papers. . . ." + +"Leave them, leave them." + +"There will be more than enough for the complaint without them," said +the magistrate. "Our town-clerk, who though no student is, as you know, +a man of much experience, shares my opinion." Then he continued +pathetically: "Only he who has cause to fear the law hides his name, +only he, who feels guilty, flees the judge." + +A subtle smile, that was not wholly free from bitterness, hovered around +the abbot's lips, for he thought of the painful trial and the torture- +chamber in the town hall, and no longer saw in the doctor merely the Jew, +but the humanist and companion in study. + +His glance again fell on the diploma, and while the other continued his +representations, the prelate stretched himself more comfortably in his +arm-chair and gazed thoughtfully at the ground. Then, as if an idea had +suddenly occurred to him, he touched his high forehead with the tips of +his fingers, and suddenly interrupting the eager speaker, said: + +"Father Anselm came to us from Porto five years ago, and when there knew +every one who understood Greek. Go, Gutbub, and tell the librarian to +come." The monk soon appeared. + +Tidings of Ulrich's disappearance and the Jew's flight had spread rapidly +through the monastery; the news was discussed in the choir, the school, +the stable and the kitchen; Father Anselm alone had heard nothing of the +matter, though he had been busy in the library before daybreak, and the +vexatious incident had been eagerly talked of there. + +It was evident, that the elderly man cared little for anything that +happened in the world, outside of his manuscripts and printing. His +long, narrow head rested on a thin neck, which did not stand erect, but +grew out between the shoulders like a branch from the stem. His face was +grey and lined with wrinkles, like pumice-stone, but large bright eyes +lent meaning and attraction to the withered countenance. + +At first he listened indifferently to the abbot's story, but as soon as +the Jew's name was mentioned, and he had read the diploma, as swiftly as +if he possessed the gift of gathering the whole contents of ten lines at +a single comprehensive glance, he said eagerly: + +"Lopez, Doctor Lopez was here! And we did not know it, and have not +consulted with him! Where is he? What are people planning against him?" + +After he had learned that the Jew had fled, and the abbot requested him +to tell all he knew about the doctor, he collected his thoughts and +sorrowfully began: + +"To be sure, to be sure; the man committed a great offence. He is a +great sinner in God's eyes. You know his guilt?" + +"We know everything," cried the magistrate, with a meaning glance at the +prelate. Then, as if he sincerely pitied the criminal, he continued with +well-feigned sympathy: "How did the learned man commit such a misdeed?" + +The abbot understood the stratagem, but Anselm's words could not be +recalled, and as he himself desired to learn more of the doctor's +history, he asked the monk to tell what he knew. + +The librarian, in his curt, dry manner, yet with a warmth unusual to him, +described the doctor's great learning and brilliant intellect, saying +that his father, though a Jew, had been in his way an aristocratic man, +allied with many a noble family, for until the reign of King Emanuel, who +persecuted the Hebrews, they had enjoyed great distinction in Portugal. +In those days it had been hard to distinguish Jews from Christians. At +the time of the expulsion a few favored Israelites had been allowed to +stay, among them the worthy Rodrigo, the doctor's father, who had been +the king's physician and was held in high esteem by the sovereign. +Lopez obtained the highest honors at Coimbra, but instead of following +medicine, like his father, devoted himself to the humanities. + +"There was no need to earn his living--to earn his living," continued the +monk, speaking slowly and carefully, and repeating the conclusion of his +sentence, as if he were in the act of collating two manuscripts, "for +Rodrigo was one of the wealthiest men in Portugal. His son Lopez was +rich, very rich in friends, and among them were numbered all to whom +knowledge was dear. Even among the Christians he had many friends. +Among us--I mean in our library--he also obtained great respect. I owe +him many a hint, much aid; I mean in referring me to rare books, and +explaining obscure passages. When he no longer visited us, I missed him +sorely. I am not curious; or do you think I am? I am not curious, but +I could not help inquiring about him, and then I heard very bad things. +Women are to blame for everything; of course it was a woman again. A +merchant from Flanders--a Christian--had settled in Porto. The doctor's +father visited his house; but you probably know all this?" + +"Of course! of course!" cried the magistrate. "But go on with your +story." + +"Old Doctor Rodrigo was the Netherlander's physician, and closed his +eyes on the death-bed. An orphan was left, a girl, who had not a single +relative in Porto. They said--I mean the young doctors and students who +had seen her--that she was pleasing, very pleasing to the eye. But it +was not on that account, but because she was orphaned and desolate, that +the physician took the child--I mean the girl." + +"And reared her as a Jewess?" interrupted the magistrate, with a +questioning glance. + +"As a Jewess?" replied the monk, excitedly. "Who says so? He did +nothing of the sort. A Christian widow educated her in the physician's +country-house, not in the city. When the young doctor returned from +Coimbra, he saw her there more than once--more than once; certainly, +more often than was good for him. The devil had a finger in the matter. +I know, too, how they were married. Before one Jew and two Christian +witnesses, they plighted their troth to each other, and exchanged rings-- +rings as if it were a Christian ceremony, though he remained a Jew and +she a Christian. He intended to go to the Netherlands with her, but one +of the witnesses betrayed them--denounced them to the Holy Inquisition. +This soon interposed of course, for there it interferes with everything, +and in this case it was necessary; nay more--a Christian duty. The young +wife was seized in the street with her attendant and thrown into prison; +on the rack she entirely lost the power of speech. The old physician and +the doctor were warned in time, and kept closely concealed. Through +Chamberlain de Sa, her uncle--or was it only her cousin?--through de Sa +the wife regained her liberty, and then I believe all three fled to +France--the father, son and wife. But no, they must have come here...." + +"There you have it!" cried the magistrate, interrupting the monk, and +glancing triumphantly at the prelate. "An old practitioner scents crime, +as a tree frog smells rain. Now, for the first time, I can say with +certainty: We have him, and the worst punishment is too little for his +deserts. There shall be an unparalleled execution, something wonderful, +magnificent, grand! You have given me important information, and I thank +you, Father." + +"Then you knew nothing?" faltered the librarian; and, raising his neck +higher than usual, the vein in the centre of his forehead swelled with +wrath. + +"No, Anselme!" said the abbot. "But it was your duty to speak, as, +unfortunately, it was mine to listen. Come to me again, by and bye; I +have something to say to you." + +The librarian bowed silently, coldly and proudly, and without vouchsafing +the magistrate a single glance, went back, not to his books, but to his +cell, where he paced up and down a long time, sorrowfully murmuring +Lopez's name, striking himself on the mouth, pressing his clenched hand +to his brow, and at last throwing himself on his knees to pray for the +Jew, before the image of the crucified Redeemer. + +As soon as the monk had left the room, the magistrate exclaimed: + +"What unexpected aid! What series of sins lie before us! First the +small ones. He had never worn the Jews' badge, and allowed himself to +be served by Christians, for Caspar's daughters were often at the +House to help in sewing. A sword was found in his dwelling, and the Jew, +who carries weapons, renounces, since he uses self-protection, the aid of +the authorities. Finally, we know that Lopez used an assumed name. Now +we come to the great offences. They are divided into four parts. He has +practised magic spells; he has sought to corrupt a Christian's son by +heresies; he has led a Christian woman into a marriage; and he has-- +I close with the worst--he has reared the daughter of a Christian woman, +I mean his wife, a Jewess!" + +"Reared his child a Jewess? Do you know that positively?" asked the +abbot. + +"She bears the Jewish name of Ruth. What I have taken the liberty to +make prominent are well chosen, clearly-proved crimes, worthy of death. +Your learning is great, Reverend Abbot, but I know the old writers, too. +The Emperor Constantius made marriages between Jews and Christians +punishable with death. I can show you the passage." + +The abbot felt that the crime of which the Jew was accused was a heavy +and unpardonable one, but he regarded only the sin, and it vexed him to +see how the magistrate's zeal was exclusively turned against the unhappy +criminal. So he rose, saying with cold hauteur: + +"Then do your duty." + +"Rely upon it. We shall capture him and his family to-morrow. The town- +clerk is full of zeal too. We shall not be able to harm the child, but +it must be taken from the Jew and receive a Christian education. It +would be our right to do this, even if both parents were Hebrews. You +know the Freiburg case. No less a personage than the great Ulrich Zasius +has decided, that Jewish children might be baptized without their +father's knowledge. I beg you to send Father Anselm to the town-hall +on Saturday as a witness." + +"Very well," replied the prelate, but he spoke with so little eagerness, +that it justly surprised the magistrate. "Well then, catch the Jew; but +take him alive. And one thing more! I wish to see and speak to the +doctor, before you torture him." + +"I will bring him to you day after to-morrow." The Nurembergers! the +Nurembergers!...." replied the abbot, shrugging his shoulders. + +"What do you mean?" + +"They don't hang any one till they catch him." The magistrate regarded +these words as a challenge to put forth every effort for the Jew's +capture, so he answered eagerly: "We shall have him, Your Reverence, we +shall surely have him. They are trapped in the snow. The sergeants are +searching the roads; I shall summon your foresters and mine, and put them +under Count Frohlinger's command. It is his duty to aid us. What they +cannot find with their attendants, squires, beaters and hounds, is not +hidden in the forest. Your blessing, Holy Father, there is no time to +lose." + +The abbot was alone. + +He gazed thoughtfully at the coals in the fireplace, recalling everything +he had just seen and heard, while his vivid power of imagination showed +him the learned, unassuming man, who had spent long years in quiet +seclusion, industriously devoting himself to the pursuit of knowledge. +A slight feeling of envy stole into his heart; how rarely he himself was +permitted to pursue undisturbed, and without interruption, the scientific +subjects, in which alone he found pleasure. + +He was vexed with himself, that he could feel so little anger against a +criminal, whose guilt was deserving of death, and reproached himself for +lukewarmness. Then he remembered that the Jew had sinned for love, and +that to him who has loved much, much should be forgiven. Finally, it +seemed a great boon, that he was soon to be permitted to make the +acquaintance of the worthy doctor from Coimbra. Never had the zealous +magistrate appeared so repulsive as to-day, and when he remembered how +the crafty man had outwitted poor Father Anselm in his presence, he felt +as if he had himself committed an unworthy deed. And yet, yet--the Jew +could not be saved, and had deserved what threatened him. + +A monk summoned him, but the abbot did not wish to be disturbed, and +ordered that he should be left an hour alone. + +He now took in his hand a volume he called the mirror of his soul, and in +which he noted many things "for the confession," that he desired to +determine to his own satisfaction. To-day he wrote: + +"It would be a duty to hate a Jew and criminal, zealously to persecute +what Holy Church has condemned. Yet I cannot do so. Who is the +magistrate, and what are Father Anselm and this learned doctor! The one +narrow-minded, only familiar with the little world he knows and in which +he lives, the others divinely-gifted, full of knowledge, rulers in the +wide domain of thought. And the former outwits the latter, who show +themselves children in comparison with him. How Anselm stood before him! +The deceived child was great, the clever man small. What men call +cleverness is only small-minded persons' skill in life; simplicity is +peculiar to the truly great man, because petty affairs are too small for +him, and his eye does not count the grains of dust, but looks upward, and +has a share in the infinitude stretching before us. Jesus Christ was +gentle as a child and loved children, he was the Son of God, yet +voluntarily yielded himself into the hands of men. The greatest of great +men did not belong to the ranks of the clever. Blessed are the meek, He +said. I understand those words. He is meek, whose soul is open, clear +and pure as a mirror, and the greatest philosophers, the noblest minds I +have met in life and history were also meek. The brute is clever; wisdom +is the cleverness of the noble-minded. We must all follow the Saviour, +and he among us, who unites wisdom to meekness, will come nearest to the +Redeemer." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +Marx had gone out to reconnoitre in a more cheerful mood, for the doctor +had made good the loss sustained in the death of his old nag, and he +returned at noon with good news. + +A wood-carrier, whom he met on the high-road, had told him where Jorg, +the charcoal-burner, lived. + +The fugitives could reach his hut before night, and in so doing approach +nearer the Rhine valley. Everything was ready for departure, but old +Rahel objected to travelling further. She was sitting on a stone before +the hut, for the smoke in the narrow room oppressed her breathing, and it +seemed as if terror had robbed her of her senses. Gazing into vacancy +with wild eyes and chattering teeth, she tried to make cakes and mould +dumplings out of the snow, which she probably took for flour. She +neither heard the doctor's call nor saw his wife beckon, and when the +former grasped her to compel her to rise, uttered a loud shriek. At last +the smith succeeded in persuading her to sit down on the sledge, and the +party moved forward. + +Adam had harnessed himself to the front of the vehicle. Marx went to and +fro, pushing when necessary. The dumb woman waded through the snow by +her husband's side. "Poor wife!" he said once; but she pressed his arm +closer, looking up into his eyes as if she wished to say: "Surely I shall +lack nothing, if only you are spared to me!" + +She enjoyed his presence as if it were a favor granted by destiny, but +only at chance moments, for she could not banish her fear for him, and +of the pursuers--her dread of uncertainty and wandering. + +If snow rattled from a pine-tree, if she noticed Lopez turn his head, or +if old Rahel uttered a moan, she shuddered; and this was not unperceived +by her husband, who told himself that she had every reason to look +forward to the next few hours with grave anxiety. Each moment might +bring imprisonment to him and all, and if they discovered--if it were +disclosed who he, who Elizabeth was. . . . + +Ulrich and Ruth brought up the rear, saying little to each other. + +At first the path ascended again, then led down to the valley. It had +stopped snowing long before, and the farther they went the lighter the +drifts became. + +They had journeyed in this way for two hours, when Ruth's strength +failed, and she stood still with tearful, imploring eyes. The charcoal- +burner saw it, and growled: + +"Come here, little girl; I'll carry you to the sleigh." + +"No, let me," Ulrich eagerly interposed. And Ruth exclaimed: + +"Yes, you, you shall carry me." + +Marx grasped her around the waist, lifted her high into the air, and +placed her in the boy's arms. She clasped her hands around his neck, and +as he walked on pressed her fresh, cool cheek to his. It pleased him, +and the thought entered his mind that he had been parted from her a long +time, and it was delightful to have her again. + +His heart swelled more and more; he felt that he would rather have Ruth +than everything else in the world, and he drew her towards him as closely +as if an invisible hand were already out-stretched to take her from him. + +To-day her dear, delicate little face was not pale, but glowed crimson +after the long walk through the frosty, winter air. She was glad to have +Ulrich clasp her so firmly, so she pressed her cheek closer to his, +loosened her fingers from his neck, caressingly stroked his face with her +cold hand, and murmured: + +"You are kind, Ulrich, and I love you!" + +It sounded so tender and loving, that Ulrich's heart melted, for no one +had spoken to him so since his mother went away. + +He felt strong and joyous, Ruth did not seem at all heavy, and when she +again clasped her hands around his neck, he said: "I should like to carry +you so always." + +Ruth only nodded, as if the wish pleased her, but he continued: + +"In the monastery I had no one, who was very kind to me, for even Lips, +well, he was a count--everybody is kind to you. You don't know what it +is, to be all alone, and have to struggle against every one. When I was +in the monastery, I often wished that I was lying under the earth; now I +don't want to die, and we will stay with you--father told me so--and +everything will be just as it was, and I shall learn no more Latin, but +become a painter, or smith-artificer, or anything else, for aught I care, +if I'm only not obliged to leave you again." + +He felt Ruth raise her little head, and press her soft lips on his +forehead just over his eyes; then he lowered the arms in which she +rested, kissed her mouth, and said: "Now it seems as if I had my mother +back again!" + +"Does it?" she asked, with sparkling eyes. "Now put me down. I am well +again, and want to run." + +So saying, she slipped to the ground, and he did not detain her. + +Ruth now walked stoutly on beside the lad, and made him tell her about +the bad boys in the monastery, Count Lips, the pictures, the monks, and +his own flight, until, just as it grew dark, they reached the goal of +their walk. + +Jorg, the charcoal-burner, received them, and opened his hut, but only to +go away himself, for though willing to give the fugitives shelter and act +against the authorities, he did not wish to be present, if the refugees +should be caught. Caught with them, hung with them! He knew the +proverb, and went down to the village, with the florins Adam gave him. + +There was a hearth for cooking in the hut, and two rooms, one large and +one small, for in summer the charcoal-burners' wives and children live +with them. The travellers needed rest and refreshment, and might have +found both here, had not fear embittered the food and driven sleep from +their weary eyes. + +Jorg was to return early the next morning with a team of horses. This +was a great consolation. Old Rahel, too, had regained her self-control, +and was sound asleep. + +The children followed her example, and at midnight Elizabeth slept too. + +Marx lay beside the hearth, and from his crooked mouth came a strange, +snoring noise, that sounded like the last note of an organ-pipe, from +which the air is expiring. + +Hours after all the others were asleep, Adam and the doctor still sat on +a sack of straw, engaged in earnest conversation. + +Lopez had told his friend the story of his happiness and sorrow, closing +with the words: + +"So you know who we are, and why we left our home. You are giving me +your future, together with many other things; no gift can repay you; but +first of all, it was due you that you should know my past." + +Then, holding out his hand to the smith, he asked: "You are a Christian; +will you still cleave to me, after what you have heard?" + +Adam silently pressed the Jew's right hand, and after remaining lost in +thought for a time, said in a hollow tone: + +"If they catch you, and--Holy Virgin--if they discover.....Ruth....She +is not really a Jew's child.....have you reared her as a Jewess?" + +"No; only as a good human child." + +"Is she baptized?" + +Lopez answered this question also in the negative. The smith shook his +head disapprovingly, but the doctor said: "She knows more about Jesus, +than many a Christian child of her age. When she is grown up, she will +be free to follow either her mother or her father." + +"Why have you not become a Christian yourself? Forgive the question. +Surely you are one at heart." + +"That, that....you see, there are things....Suppose that every male scion +of your family, from generation to generation, for many hundred years, +had been a smith, and now a boy should grow up, who said: I--I despise +your trade?'" + +"If Ulrich should say: 'I-I wish to be an artist;' it would be agreeable +to me." + +"Even if smiths were persecuted like us Jews, and he ran from your guild +to another out of fear?" + +"No--that would be base, and can scarcely be compared with your case; +for see--you are acquainted with everything, even what is called +Christianity; nay, the Saviour is dear to you; you have already told me +so. Well then! Suppose you were a foundling and were shown our faith +and yours, and asked for which you would decide, which would you choose?" + +"We pray for life and peace, and where peace exists, love cannot be +lacking, and yet! Perhaps I might decide for yours." + +"There you have it." + +"No, no! We have not done with this question so speedily. See, I do not +grudge you your faith, nor do I wish to disturb it. The child must +believe, that all its parents do and require of him is right, but the +stranger sees with different, keener eyes, than the son and daughter. +You occupy a filial relation towards your Church--I do not. I know the +doctrine of Jesus Christ, and if I had lived in Palestine in his time, +should have been one of the first to follow the Master, but since, from +those days to the present, much human work has mingled with his sublime +teachings. This too must be dear to you, for it belongs to your parents- +-but it repels me. I have lived, labored and watched all night for the +truth, and were I now to come before the baptismal font and say 'yes' to +everything the priests ask, I should be a liar." + +"They have caused you bitter suffering; tortured your wife, driven you +and your family from your home....." + +"I have borne all that patiently," cried the doctor, deeply moved. +"But there are many other sins now committed against me and mine, for +which there is no forgiveness. I know the great Pagans and their works. +Their need of love extends only to the nation, to which they belong, not +to humanity. Unselfish justice, is to them the last thing man owes his +fellow-man. Christ extended love to all nations, His heart was large +enough to love all mankind. Human love, the purest and fairest of +virtues, is the sublime gift, the noble heritage, he left behind to his +brothers in sorrow. My heart, the poor heart under this black doublet, +this heart was created for human love, this soul thirsted, with all its +powers, to help its neighbors and lighten their sorrows. To exercise +human love is to be good, but they no longer know it, and what is worse, +a thousand times worse, they constantly destroy in me and mine the desire +to be good, good in the sense of their own Master. Wordly wealth is +trash--to be rich the poorest happiness. Yet the Jew is not forbidden to +strive for this, they take scarcely half his gains;--nor can they deny +him the pursuit of the pleasures of the intellect--pure knowledge--for +our minds are not feebler or more idle, and soar no less boldly than +theirs. The prophets came from the East! But the happiness of the soul +--the right to exercise charity is denied to us. It is a part of charity +for each man to regard his neighbor as himself--to feel for him, as it +were, with his own heart--to lighten his burdens, minister unto him in +his sorrows, and to gladden his happiness. This the Christian denies the +Jew. Your love ceases when you meet me and mine, and if I sought to put +myself on an equality with the Christian, from the pure desire to satisfy +his Master's most beautiful lesson, what would be my fate? The Jew is +not permitted to be good. Not to be good! Whoever imposes that upon his +brother, commits a sin for which I know no forgiveness. And if Jesus +Christ should return to earth and see the pack that hunts us, surely He, +who was human love incarnate, would open His arms wide, wide to us, and +ask: 'Who are these apostles of hate? I know them not!'" + +The doctor paused, for the door had opened, and he rose with flushed face +to look into the adjoining room; but the smith held him back, saying: + +"Stay, stay! Marx went out into the open air. Ah, Sir! no doubt your +words are true, but were they Jews who crucified the Saviour?" + +"And this crime is daily avenged," replied Lopez. "How many wicked, how +many low souls, who basely squander divine gifts to obtain worthless +pelf, there are among my people! More than half of them are stripped of +honor and dignity on your altar of vengeance, and thrust into the arms of +repulsive avarice. And this, all this....But enough of these things! +They rouse my inmost soul to wrath, and I have other matters to discuss +with you." + +The scholar now began to speak to the smith, like a dying man, about the +future of his family, told him where he had concealed his small property, +and did not hide the fact, that his marriage had not only drawn upon him +the persecution of the Christians, but the curse of his co-religionists. +He took it upon himself to provide for Ulrich, as if he were his own +child, should any misfortune befall the smith; and Adam promised, if he +remained alive and at liberty, to do the same for the doctor's wife and +daughter. + +Meantime, a conversation of a very different nature was held before the +hut. + +The poacher was sitting by the fire, when the door opened, and his name +was called. He turned in alarm, but soon regained his composure, for it +was Jorg who beckoned, and then drew him into the forest. + +Marx expected no good news, yet he started when his companion said: + +"I know now, who the man is you have brought. He's a Jew. Don't try to +humbug me. The constable from the city has come to the village. The +man, who captures the Israelite, will get fifteen florins. Fifteen +florins, good money. The magistrate will count it, all on one board, and +the vicar says...." + +"I don't care much for your priests," replied Marx. "I am from +Weinsberg, and have found the Jew a worthy man. No one shall touch him." + +"A Jew, and a good man!" cried Jurg, laughing. "If you won't help, so +much the worse for you. You'll risk your neck, and the fifteen florins. +....Will you go shares? Yes or no?" + +"Heaven's thunder!" murmured the poacher, his crooked mouth watering." +How much is half of fifteen florins?" + +"About seven, I should say." + +"A calf and a pig." + +"A swine for the Jew, that will suit. You'll keep him here in the trap." + +"I can't, Jorg; by my soul, I can't! Let me alone!" + +"Very well, for aught I care; but the legal gentlemen. The gallows has +waited for you long enough!" + +"I can't; I can't. I've been an honest man all my life, and the smith +Adam and his dead father have shown me many a kindness." + +"Who means the smith any harm?" + +"The receiver is as bad as the thief. If they catch him...." + +"He'll be put in the stocks for a week. That's the worst that can befall +him." + +"No, no. Let me alone,--or I'll tell Adam what you're plotting...." + +"Then I'll denounce you first, you gallows' fruit, you rogue, you +poacher. They've suspected you a long time! Will you change your mind +now, you blockhead?" + +"Yes, yes; but Ulrich is here too, and the boy is as dear to me as my own +child." + +"I'll come here later, say that no vehicle can be had, and take him away +with me. When it's all over, I'll let him go." + +"Then I'll keep him. He already helps me as much, as if he were a grown +man. Oh, dear, dear! The Jew, the gentle man, and the poor women, and +the little girl, Ruth...." + +"Big Jews and little Jews, nothing more. You've told me yourself, how +the Hebrews were persecuted in your dead father's day. So we'll go +shares. There's a light in the room still. You'll detain them. Count +Frohlinger has been at his hunting-box since last evening....If they +insist on moving forward, guide them to the village." + +"And I've been an honest man all my life," whined the poacher, and then +continued, threateningly: "If you harm a hair on Ulrich's head...." + +"Fool that you are! I'll willingly leave the big feeder to you. Go in +now, then I'll come and fetch the boy. There's money at stake--fifteen +florins!" Fifteen minutes after, Jorg entered the but. + +The smith and the doctor believed the charcoal-burner, when he told them +that all the vehicles in the village were in use, but he would find one +elsewhere. They must let the boy go with him, to enquire at the farm- +houses in another village. Somebody would doubtless be found to risk his +horses. The lad looked like a young nobleman, and the peasants would +take earnest-money from him. If he, Jorg, should show them florins, it +would get him into a fine scrape. The people knew he was as poor as a +beggar. + +The smith asked the poacher's opinion, and the latter growled: + +"That will, doubtless, be a good plan." + +He said no more, and when Adam held out his hand to the boy, and kissed +him on the forehead, and the doctor bade him an affectionate farewell, +Marx called himself a Judas, and would gladly have flung the tempting +florins to the four winds, but it was too late. + +The smith and Lopez heard him call anxiously to Jorg: "Take good care of +the boy!" And when Adam patted him on the shoulder, saying: "You are a +faithful fellow, Marx!" he could have howled like a mastiff and revealed +all; but it seemed as if he again felt the rope around his neck, so he +kept silence. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +The grey dawn was already glimmering, yet neither the expected vehicle +nor Jorg had come. Old Rahel, usually an early riser, was sleeping as +soundly as if she had to make up the lost slumber of ten nights; but the +smith's anxiety would no longer allow him to remain in the close room. +Ruth followed him into the open air, and when she timidly touched him-- +for there had always been something unapproachable to her in the silent +man's gigantic figure--he looked at her from head to foot, with strange, +questioning sympathy, and then asked suddenly, with a haste unusual to +him. + +"Has your father told you about Jesus Christ?" + +"Often!" replied Ruth. + +"And do you love Him?" + +"Dearly. Father says He loved all children, and called them to Him." + +"Of course, of course!" replied the smith, blushing with shame for his +own distrust. + +The doctor did not follow the others, and as soon as his wife saw that +they were alone, she beckoned to him. + +Lopez sat down on the couch beside her, and took her hand. The slender +fingers trembled in his clasp, and when, with loving anxiety, he drew her +towards him, he felt the tremor of her delicate limbs, while her eyes +expressed bitter suffering and terrible dread. + +"Are you afraid?" he asked, tenderly. + +Elizabeth shuddered, threw her arms passionately around his neck, and +nodded assent. + +"The wagon will convey us to the Rhine Valley, please God, this very day, +and there we shall be safe," he continued, soothingly. But she shook her +head, her features assuming an expression of indifference and contempt. +Lopez understood how to read their meaning, and asked: "So it is not the +bailiffs you fear; something else is troubling you?" + +She nodded again, this time still more eagerly, drew out the crucifix, +which she had hitherto kept concealed under her coverlid, showed it to +him, then pointed upward towards heaven, lastly to herself and him, and +shrugged her shoulders with an air of deep, mournful renunciation. + +"You are thinking of the other world," said Lopez; then, fixing his eyes +on the ground, he continued, in a lower tone: "I know you are tortured by +the fear of not meeting me there." + +"Yes," she gasped, with a great effort, pressing her forehead against his +shoulder. + +A hot tear fell on the doctor's hand, and he felt as if his own heart was +weeping with his beloved, anxious wife. + +He knew that this thought had often poisoned her life and, full of tender +sympathy, turned her beautiful face towards him and pressed a long kiss +on her closed eyes, then said, tenderly: + +"You are mine, I am yours, and if there is a life beyond the grave, and +an eternal justice, the dumb will speak as they desire, and sing wondrous +songs with the angels; the sorrowful will again be happy there. We will +hope, we will both hope! Do you remember how I read Dante aloud to you, +and tried to explain his divine creation, as we sat on the bench by the +fig-tree. The sea roared below us, and our hearts swelled higher than +its storm-lashed waves. How soft was the air, how bright the sunshine! +This earth seemed doubly beautiful to you and me as, led by the hand of +the divine seer and singer, we descended shuddering to the nether world. +There the good and noble men of ancient times walked in a flowery meadow, +and among them the poet beheld in solitary grandeur--do you still +remember how the passage runs? 'E solo in parte vidi 'l Saladino.' +Among them he also saw the Moslem Saladin, the conqueror of the +Christians. If any one possessed the key of the mysteries of the other +world, Elizabeth, it was Dante. He assigned a lofty place to the pagan, +who was a true man--a man with a pure mind, a zeal for goodness and +right, and I think I shall have a place there too. Courage, Elizabeth, +courage!" + +A beautiful smile had illumined the wife's features, while she was +reminded of the happiest hours of her life, but when he paused, gazed +into her eyes, and clasped her right hand in his, she was seized with an +intense longing to pray once, only once, with him to the Saviour so, +drawing her fingers from his, she pressed the image of the Crucified One +to her breast with her left hand, pleading with mute motions of her lips, +inteligible to him alone, and with ardent entreaty in her large, tearful +eyes: "Pray, pray with me, pray to the saviour." + +Lopez was greatly agitated; his heart beat faster, and a strong impulse +urged him to start up, cry "no," and not allow himself to be moved, by an +affectionate meakness, into bowing his manly soul before one, who, to +him, was no more than human. + +The noble figure of the crucified Saviour, carved by an artist's hand in +ivory, hung from an ebony cross, and he thrust the image back, intending +to turn proudly way, he gazed at the face and found there only pain, +quiet endurance, and touching sorrow. Ah, his own heart had often bled, +as the pure brow of this poor, persecuted, tortured saint bled beneath +its crown of thorns. To defy this silent companion in suffering, was no +manly deed--to pay homage, out of love, to Him, who had brought love into +the world, seemed to possess a sweet, ensnaring charm--so he clasped his +slender hands closely round his dumb wife's fingers, pressed his dark +curls gainst Elizabeth's fair hair, and both, for the first and last +time, repeated together a mute, fervent prayer. + +Before the hut, and surrounded by the forest, was a large clearing, where +two roads crossed. + +Adam, Marx and Ruth had gazed first down one and then the other, to look +for the wagon, but nothing was to be seen or heard. As, with increasing +anxiety, they turned back to the first path, the poacher grew restless. +His crooked mouth twisted to and fro in strange contortions, not a muscle +of his coarse face was till, and this looked so odd and yet so horrible, +that Ruth could not help laughing, and the smith asked what ailed him. + +Marx made no reply; his ear had caught the distant bay of a dog, and he +knew what the sound meant. Work at the anvil impairs the hearing, and +the smith did not notice the approaching peril, and repeated: "What ails +you, man?" + +"I am freezing," replied the charcoal-burner, cowering, with a piteous +expression. + +Ruth heard no more of the conversation, she had stopped and put her hand +to her ear, listening with head bent forward, to the noises in the +distance. + +Suddenly she uttered a low cry, exclaiming: "There's a dog barking, +Meister Adam, I hear it." + +The smith turned pale and shook his head, but she cried earnestly: +"Believe me; I hear it. Now it's barking again." + +Adam too, now heard a strange noise in the forest. With lightning speed +he loosened the hammer in his belt, took Ruth by the hand, and ran up the +clearing with her. + +Meantime, Lopez had compelled old Rahel to rise. + +Everything must be ready, when Ulrich returned. In his impatience he had +gone to the door, and when he saw Adam hurrying up the glade with the +child, ran anxiously to meet them, thinking that some accident had +happened to Ulrich. + +"Back, back!" shouted the smith, and Ruth, releasing her hand from his, +also motioned and shrieked "Back, back!" + +The doctor obeyed the warning, and stopped; but he had scarcely turned, +when several dogs appeared at the mouth of the ravine through which the +party had come the day before, and directly after Count Frohlinger, on +horseback, burst from the thicket. + +The nobleman sat throned on his spirited charger, like the sun-god +Siegfried. His fair locks floated dishevelled around his head, the steam +rising from the dripping steed hovered about him in the fresh winter air +like a light cloud. He had opened and raised his arms, and holding the +reins in his left hand, swung his hunting spear with the right. On +perceiving Lopez, a clear, joyous, exultant "Hallo, Halali!" rang from +his bearded lips. + +To-day Count Frohlinger was not hunting the stag, but special game, a +Jew. + +The chase led to the right cover, and how well the hounds had done, how +stoutly Emir, his swift hunter, had followed. + +This was a morning's work indeed! + +"Hallo, Halali!" he shouted exultingly again, and ere the fugitives had +escaped from the clearing, reached the doctor's side, exclaiming: + +"Here is my game; to your knees, Jew!" + +The count had far outstripped his attendants, and was entirely alone. + +As Lopez stood still with folded arms, paying no heed to his command, he +turned the spear, to strike him with the handle. + +Then, for the first time in many years, the old fury awoke in Adam's +heart; and rushing upon the count like a tiger, he threw his powerful +arms around his waist, and ere he was aware of the attack, hurled him +from his horse, set his knee on his breast, snatched the hammer from his +belt, and with a mighty blow struck the dog that attacked him, to the +earth. Then he again swung the iron, to crush the head of his hated foe. +But Lopez would not accept deliverance at such a price, and cried in a +tone of passionate entreaty: + +"Let him go, Adam, spare him." + +As he spoke, he clung to the smith's arm, and when the latter tried to +release himself from his grasp, said earnestly: + +"We will not follow their example!" + +Again the hammer whizzed high in the air, and again the Jew clung to the +smith's arm, this time exclaiming imperiously: + +"Spare him, if you are my friend!" + +What was his strength in comparison with Adam's? Yet as the hammer rose +for the third time, he again strove to prevent the terrible deed, seizing +the infuriated man's wrist, and gasping, as in the struggle he fell on +his knees beside the count: "Think of Ulrich! This man's son was the +only one, the only one in the whole monastery, who stood by Ulrich, your +child--in the monastery--he was--his friend--among so many. Spare him-- +Ulrich! For Ulrich's sake, spare him!" + +During this struggle the smith had held the count down with his left +hand, and defended himself against Lopez with the right. + +One jerk, and the hand upraised for murder was free again--but he did not +use it. His friend's last words had paralyzed him. + +"Take it," he said in a hollow tone, giving the hammer to the doctor. + +The latter seized it, and rising joyously, laid his hand on the shoulder +of the smith, who was still kneeling on the count's breast, and said +beseechingly: "Let that suffice. The man is only...." + +He went no farther--a gurgling, piercing cry of pain escaped his lips, +and pressing one hand to his breast, and the other to his brow, he sank +on the snow beside the stump of a giant pine. + +A squire dashed from the forest--the archer, to whom this noble quarry +had fallen a victim, appeared in the clearing, holding aloft the cross- +bow from which he had sent the bolt. His arrow was fixed in the doctor's +breast; alas, the man had only sent the shaft, to save his fallen master +from the hammer in the Jew's hand. + +Count Frohlinger rose, struggling for breath; his hand sought his +hunting-knife, but in the fall it had slipped from its sheath and was +lying in the snow. + +Adam supported his dying friend in his arms, Ruth ran weeping to the hut, +and before the nobleman had fully collected his thoughts, the squire +reached his side, and young Count Lips, riding a swift bay-horse, dashed +from the forest, closely followed by three mounted huntsmen. + +When the attendants saw their master on foot, they too sprang from their +saddles, Lips did the same, and an eager interchange of question and +answer began among them. + +The nobleman scarcely noticed his son, but greeted with angry words the +man who had shot the Jew. Then, deeply excited, he hoarsely ordered his +attendants to bind the smith, who made no resistance, but submitted to +everything like a patient child. + +Lopez no longer needed his arms. + +The dumb wife sat on the stump, with her dying husband resting on her +lap. She had thrown her arms around the bleeding form, and the feet hung +limply down, touching the snow. + +Ruth, sobbing bitterly, crouched on the ground by her mother's side, and +old Rahel, who had entirely regained her self-control, pressed a cloth, +wet with wine, on his forehead. + +The young count approached the dying Jew. His father slowly followed, +drew the boy to his side, and said in a low, sad tone: + +"I am sorry for the man; he saved my life." + +The wounded man opened his eyes, saw Count Frohlinger, his son and the +fettered smith, felt his wife's tears on his brow, and heard Ruth's +agonized weeping. A gentle smile hovered around his pale lips, and when +he tried to raise his head Elizabeth helped him, pressing it gently to +her breast. + +The feeble lips moved and Lopez raised his eyes to her face, as if to +thank her, saying in a low voice: "The arrow--don't touch it.... +Elizabeth--Ruth, we have clung together faithfully, but now--I shall +leave you alone, I must leave you." He paused, a shadow clouded his +eyes, and the lids slowly fell. But he soon raised them again, and +fixing his glance steadily on the count, said: + +"Hear me, my Lord; a dying man should be heard, even if he is a Jew. See! +This is my wife, and this my child. They are Christians. They will soon +be alone in the world, deserted, orphaned. The smith is their only +friend. Set him free; they--they, they will need a protector. My wife +is dumb, dumb....alone in the world. She can neither beseech nor demand. +Set Adam free, for the sake of your Saviour, your son, free--yes, free. +A wide, wide space must be between you; he must go away with them, far +away. Set him free! I held his arm with the hammer.... You know--with +the hammer. Set him free. My death--death atones for everything." + +Again his voice failed, and the count, deeply moved, looked irresolutely +now at him, now at the smith. Lips's eyes filled with tears; and as he +saw his father delay in fulfilling the dying man's last wish, and a +glance from the dim eyes met his, he pressed closer to the noble, who +stood struggling with many contending emotions, and whispered, weeping: + +"My Lord and Father, my Lord and Father, tomorrow will be Christmas. +For Christ's sake, for love of me, grant his request: release Ulrich's +father, set him free! Do so, my noble Father; I want no other Christmas +gift." + +Count Frohlinger's heart also overflowed, and when, raising his tear- +dimmed eyes, he saw Elizabeth's deep grief stamped on her gentle +features, and beheld reclining on her breast, the mild, beautiful face of +the dying man, it seemed as if he saw before him the sorrowful Mother of +God--and to-morrow would be Christmas. Wounded pride was silent, he +forgot the insult he had sustained, and cried in a voice as loud, as if +he wished every word to reach the ear now growing dull in death: + +"I thank you for your aid, man. Adam is free, and may go with your wife +and child wherever he lists. My word upon it; you can close your eyes in +peace!" + +Lopez smiled again, raised his hand as if in gratitude, then let it fall +upon his child's head, gazed lovingly at Ruth for the last time, and +murmured in a low tone "Lift my head a little higher, Elizabeth." When +she had obeyed his wish, he gazed earnestly into her face, whispered +softly: "A dreamless sleep--reanimated to new forms in the endless +circle. No!--Do you see, do you hear....Solo in parte'....with you +....with you....Oh, oh!--the arrow--draw the arrow from the wound. +Elizabeth, Elizabeth--it aches. Well--well--how miserable we were, and +yet, yet....You--you--I--we--we know, what happiness is. You--I.... +Forgive me! I forgive, forgive...." + +The dying man's hand fell from his child's head, his eyes closed, but the +pleasant smile with which he had perished, hovered around his lips, even +in death. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +Count Frohlinger added a low "amen" to the last words of the dying man, +then approached the widow, and in the kindly, cordial manner natural to +him, strove to comfort her. + +Finally he ordered his men, to loose the smith's bonds, and instantly +guide him to the frontier with the woman and child. He also spoke to +Adam, but said only a few words, not cheery ones as usual, but grave and +harsh in purport. + +They were a command to leave the country without delay, and never return +to his home again. + +The Jew's corpse was laid on a bier formed of pine, branches, and the +bearers lifted it on their shoulders. Ruth clung closely to her mother, +both trembling like leaves in the wind, while he who was dearest to +them on earth was borne away, but only the child could weep. + +The men, whom Count Frohlinger had left behind as a guard, waited +patiently with the smith for his son's return until noon, then they urged +departure, and the party moved forward. + +Not a word was spoken, till the, travellers stopped before the charcoal- +burner's house. + +Jorg was in the city, but his wife said that the boy had been there, and +had gone back to the forest an hour before. The tavern could accommodate +a great many people, she added, and they could wait for him there. + +The fugitives followed this advice, and after Adam had seen the women +provided with shelter, he again sought the scene of the misfortune, and +waited there for the boy until night. + +Beside the stump on which his friend had died, he prayed long and +earnestly, vowing to his dead preserver to live henceforth solely for his +family. Unbroken stillness surrounded him, it seemed as if he were in +church, and every tree in the forest was a witness of the oath he swore. + +The next morning the smith again sought the charcoal-burner, and this +time found him. Jorg laid the blame to Ulrich's impatience, but promised +to go to Marx in search of him and bring him to the smith. The men +composing the escort urged haste, so Adam went on without Ulrich towards +the north-west, to the valley of the Rhine. + +The charcoal-burner had lost the reward offered the informer, and could +not even earn the money due a messenger. + +He had lured Ulrich to the attic and locked him in there, but during his +absence the boy escaped. He was a nimble fellow, for he had risked the +leap from the window, and then swung himself over the fence into the +road. + +Jorg's conjecture did not deceive him, for as soon as Ulrich perceived +that he had been betrayed into a trap, he had leaped into the open air. + +He must warn his friends, and anxiety for them winged his feet. + +Once and again he lost his way, but at last found the right path, though +he had wasted many hours, first in the village, then behind the locked +door, and finally in searching for the right road. + +The sun had already passed the meridian, when he at last reached the +clearing. + +The but was deserted; no one answered his loud, anxious shouts. + +Where had they gone? + +He searched the wide, snow-covered expanse for traces, and found only too +many. Here horses' hoofs, there large and small feet had pressed the +snow, yonder hounds had run, and--Great Heaven!--here, by the tree-stump, +red blood stained the glimmering white ground. + +His breath failed, but he did not cease to search, look, examine. + +Yonder, where for the length of a man the snow had vanished and grass and +brown earth appeared, people had fought together, and there--Holy Virgin! +What was this!--there lay his father's hammer. He knew it only too well; +it was the smaller one, which to distinguish it from the two larger +tools, Goliath and Samson, he called David-the boy had swung it +a hundred times himself. + +His heart stood still, and when he found some freshly-hewn pine-boughs, +and a fir-trunk that had been rejected by one of the men, he said to +himself: "The bier was made here," and his vivid imagination showed him +his father fighting, struck down, and then a mournful funeral procession. +Exulting bailiffs bore a tall strong-limbed corpse, and a slender, black- +robed body, his father and his teacher. Then came the quiet, beautiful +wife and Ruth in bonds, and behind them Marx and Rahel. He distinctly +saw all this; it even seemed as if he heard the sobs of the women, and +wailing bitterly, he thrust his hands in his floating locks and ran to +and fro. Suddenly he thought that the troopers would return to seize him +also. Away, away! anywhere--away! a voice roared and buzzed in his +ears, and he set out on a run towards the south, always towards the +south. + +The boy had not eaten a mouthful, since the oatmeal porridge obtained at +the charcoal-burner's, in the morning, but felt neither hunger nor +thirst, and dashed on and on without heeding the way. + +Long after his father had left the clearing for the second time, he still +ran on--but gasping for breath while his steps grew slower and shorter. +The moon rose, one star after another revealed its light, yet he still +struggled forward. + +The forest lay behind him; he had reached a broad road, which he followed +southward, always southward, till his strength utterly failed. His head +and hands were burning like fire, yet it was very, very cold; but little +snow lay here in the valley, and in many places the moonlight showed +patches of bare, dark turf. + +Grief was forgotten. Fatigue, anxiety and hunger completely engrossed +the boy's mind. He felt tempted to throw himself down in the road and +sleep, but remembered the frozen people of whom he had heard, and dragged +himself on to the nearest village. The lights had long been +extinguished; as he approached, dogs barked in the yards, and the +melancholy lowing of a cow echoed from many a stable. He was again among +human beings; the thought exerted a soothing influence; he regained his +self-control, and sought a shelter for the night. + +At the end of the village stood a barn, and Ulrich noticed by the +moonlight an open hatchway in the wall. If he could climb up to it! The +framework offered some support for fingers and toes, so he resolved to +try it. + +Several times, when Half-way up, he slipped to the ground, but at last +reached the top, and found a bed in the soft hay under a sheltering roof. +Surrounded by the fragrance of the dried grasses, he soon fell asleep, +and in a dream saw amidst various confused and repulsive shapes, first +his father with a bleeding wound in his broad chest, and then the doctor, +dancing with old Rahel. Last of all Ruth appeared; she led him into the +forest to a juniper-bush, and showed him a nest full of young birds. But +the half-naked creatures vexed him, and he trampled them under foot, over +which the little girl lamented so loudly and bitterly, that he awoke. + +Morning was already dawning, his head ached, and he was very cold and +hungry, but he had no desire nor thought except to proceed; so he again +went out into the open air, brushed off the hay that still clung to his +hair and clothes, and walked on towards the south. + +It had grown warmer and was beginning to snow heavily. + +Walking became more and more difficult; his headache grew unendurable, +yet his feet still moved, though it seemed as if he wore heavy leaden +shoes. + +Several freight-wagons with armed escorts, and a few peasants, with +rosaries in their hands, who were on their way to church, met the lad, +but no one had overtaken him. + +On the hinge of noon he heard behind him the tramp of horses' hoofs and +the rattle of wheels, approaching nearer and nearer with ominous haste. + +If it should be the troopers! + +Ulrich's heart stood still, and turning to look back, he saw several +horsemen, who were trotting past a spur of the hill around which the road +wound. + +Through the falling flakes the boy perceived glittering weapons, gay +doublets and scarfs, and now--now--all hope was over, they wore Count +Frohlinger's colors! + +Unless the earth should open before him, there was no escape. The road +belonged to the horsemen; on the right lay a wide, snow-covered plain, on +the left rose a cliff, kept from falling on the side towards the highway +by a rude wall. It needed this support less on account of the road, than +for the sake of a graveyard, for which the citizens of the neighboring +borough used the gentle slope of the mountain. + +The graves, the bare elder-bushes and bushy cypresses in the cemetery +were covered with snow, and the brighter the white covering that rested +on every surrounding object, the stronger was the relief in which the +black crosses stood forth against it. + +A small chapel in the rear of the graveyard caught Ulrich's eye. If it +was possible to climb the wall, he might hide behind it. The horsemen +were already close at his heels, when he summoned all his remaining +strength, rushed to a stone projecting from the wall, and began to +clamber up. + +The day before it would have been a small matter for him to reach the +cemetery; but now the exhausted boy only dragged himself upward, to slip +on the smooth stones and lose the hold, that the dry, snow-covered plants +growing in the wide crevices treacherously offered him. + +The horsemen had noticed him, and a young man-at-arms exclaimed: +"A runaway! See how the young vagabond acts. I'll seize him." + +He set spurs to his horse as he spoke, and just as the boy succeeded in +reaching his goal, grasped his foot; but Ulrich clung fast to a +gravestone, so the shoe was left in the trooper's hand and his comrades +burst into a loud laugh. It sounded merry, but it echoed in the ears of +the tortured lad like a shriek from hell, and urged him onward. He +leaped over two, five, ten graves--then he stumbled over a head-stone +concealed by the snow. + +With a great effort he rose again, but ere he reached the chapel fell +once more, and now his will was paralyzed. In mortal terror he clung to +a cross, and as his senses failed, thought of "the word." It seemed as +if some one had called the right one, and from pure Weakness and fatigue, +he could not remember it. + +The young soldier was not willing to encounter the jeers of his comrades, +by letting the vagabond escape. With a curt: "Stop, you rascal," he +threw the shoe into the graveyard, gave his bridle to the next man in the +line; and a few minutes after was kneeling by Ulrich's side. He shook +and jerked him, but in vain; then growing anxious, called to the others +that the boy was probably dead. + +"People never die so quickly!" cried the greyhaired leader of the band: +"Give him a blow." + +The youth raised his arm, but did not strike the lad. He had looked into +Ulrich's face, and found something there that touched his heart. "No, +no," he shouted, "come up here, Peter; a handsome boy; but it's all over +with him, I say." + +During this delay, the traveller whom the men were escorting, and his +old servant, approached the cemetery at a rapid trot. The former, a +gentleman of middle age, protected from the cold by costly furs, saw with +a single hasty glance the cause of the detention. + +Instantly dismounting, he followed the leader of the troop to the end of +the wall, where there was a flight of rude steps. + +Ulrich's head now lay in the soldier's arms, and the traveller gazed at +him with a look of deep sympathy. The steadfast glance of his bright +eyes rested on the boy's features as if spellbound, then he raised his +hand, beckoned to the elder soldier, and exclaimed: "Lift him; we'll take +him with us; a corner can be found in the wagon." + +The vehicle, of which the traveller spoke, was slow in coming. It was a +long four-wheeled equipage, over which, as a protection against wind and +storm, arched a round, sail-cloth cover. The driver crouched among the +straw in a basket behind the horses, like a brooding hen. + +Under the sheltering canopy, among the luggage of the fur-clad gentleman, +sat and reclined four travellers, whom the owner of the vehicle had +gradually picked up, and who formed a motley company. + +The two Dominican friars, Magisters Sutor and Stubenrauch, had entered +at Cologne, for the wagon came straight from Holland, and belonged to the +artist Antonio Moor of Utrecht, who was going to King Philip's court. +The beautiful fur border on the black cap and velvet cloak showed that +he had no occasion to practise economy; he preferred the back of a good +horse to a seat in a jolting vehicle. + +The ecclesiastics had taken possession of the best places in the back of +the wagon. They were inseparable brothers, and formed as it were one +person, for they behaved like two bodies with one soul. In this double +life, fat Magister Sutor represented the will, lean Stubenrauch +reflection and execution. If the former proposed to be down or sit, eat +or drink, sleep or talk, the latter instantly carried the suggestion into +execution, rarely neglecting to establish, by wise words, for what reason +the act in question should be performed precisely at that time. + +Farther towards the front, with his back resting against a chest, lay a +fine-looking young Lansquenet. He was undoubtedly a gay, active fellow, +but now sat mute and melancholy, supporting with his right hand his +wounded left arm, as if it were some brittle vessel. + +Opposite to him rose a heap of loose straw, beneath which something +stirred from time to time, and from which at short intervals a slight +cough was heard. + +As soon as the door in the back of the vehicle opened, and the cold snowy +air entered the dark, damp space under the tilt, Magister Sutor's lips +parted in a long-drawn "Ugh!" to which his lean companion instantly added +a torrent of reproachful words about the delay, the draught, the danger +of taking cold. + +When the artist's head appeared in the opening, the priest paused, for +Moor paid the travelling expenses; but when his companion Sutor drew his +cloak around him with every token of discomfort and annoyance, he +followed his example in a still more conspicuous way. + +The artist paid no heed to these gestures, but quietly requested his +guests to make room for the boy. + +A muffled head was suddenly thrust out from under the straw, a voice +cried: "A hospital on wheels!" then the head vanished again like that of +a fish, which has risen to take a breath of air. + +"Very true," replied the artist. "You need not draw up your limbs so +far, my worthy Lansquenet, but I must request these reverend gentlemen to +move a little farther apart, or closer together, and make room for the +sick lad on the leather sack." + +While these words were uttered, one of the escort laid the still +senseless boy under the tilt. + +Magister Sutor noticed the snow that clung to Ulrich's hair and clothing, +and while struggling to rise, uttered a repellent "no," while Stubenrauch +hastily added reproachfully: "There will be a perfect pool here, when +that melts; you gave us these places, Meister Moor, but we hardly +expected to receive also dripping limbs and rheumatic pains...." + +Before he finished the sentence, the bandaged head again appeared from +the straw, and the high, shrill voice of the man concealed under it, +asked? "Was the blood of the wounded wayfarer, the good Samaritan picked +up by the roadside, dry or wet?" + +An encouraging glance from Sutor requested Stubenrauch to make an +appropriate answer, and the latter in an unctuous tone, hastily replied: +"It was the Lord, who caused the Samaritan to find the wounded man by the +roadside--this did not happen in our case, for the wet boy is forced upon +us, and though we are Samaritans....." + +"You are not yet merciful," cried the voice from the straw. + +The artist laughed, but the soldier, slapping his thigh with his sound +hand, cried: + +"In with the boy, you fellows outside; here, put him on my right--move +farther apart, you gentlemen down below; the water will do us no harm, +if you'll only give us some of the wine in your basket yonder." + +The priests, willy-nilly, now permitted Ulrich to be laid on the leathern +sack between them, and while first Sutor, and then Stubenrauch, shrunk +away to mutter prayers over a rosary for the senseless lad's restoration +to consciousness, and to avoid coming in contact with his wet clothes, +the artist entered the vehicle, and without asking permission, took the +wine from the priests' basket. The soldier helped him, and soon their +united exertions, with the fiery liquor, revived the fainting boy. + +Moor rode forward, and the wagon jolted on until the day's journey ended +at Emmendingen. Count von Hochburg's retainers, who were to serve as +escort from this point, would not ride on Christmas day. The artist made +no objection, but when they also declared that no horse should leave the +stable on the morrow, which was a second holiday, he shrugged his +shoulders and answered, without any show of anger, but in a firm, haughty +tone, that he should then probably be obliged--if necessary with their +master's assistance,--to conduct them to Freiburg to-morrow. + +The inns at Emmendingen were among the largest and best in the +neighborhood of Freiburg, and on account of the changes of escort, which +frequently took place here, there was no lack of accommodation for +numerous horses and guests. + +As soon as Ulrich was taken into the warm hostelry he fainted a second +time, and the artist now cared for him as kindly as if he were the lad's +own father. + +Magister Sutor ordered the roast meats, and his companion Stubenrauch +all the other requisites for a substantial meal, in which they had made +considerable progress, while the artist was still engaged in ministering +to the sick lad, in which kindly office the little man, who had been +hidden under the straw in the wagon, stoutly assisted. + +He had been a buffoon, and his dress still bore many tokens of his former +profession. His big head swayed upon his thin neck; his droll, though +emaciated features constantly changed their expression, and even when he +was not coughing, his mouth was continually in motion. + +As soon as Ulrich breathed calmly and regularly, he searched his +clothing to find some clue to his residence, but everything he discovered +in the lad's pockets only led to more and more amusing and startling +conjectures, for nothing can contain a greater variety of objects than +a school-boy's pockets, if we except a school-girl's. + +There was a scrap of paper with a Latin exercise bristling with errors, +a smooth stone, a shabby, notched knife, a bit of chalk for drawing, an +iron arrow-head, a broken hobnail, and a falconer's glove, which Count +Lips had given his comrade. The ring the doctor's wife had bestowed as +a farewell token, was also discovered around his neck. + +All these things led Pellicanus--so the jester was named--to make many a +conjecture, and he left none untried. + +As a mosaic picture is formed from stones, he by a hundred signs, +conjured up a vision of the lad's character, home, and the school from +which he had run away. + +He called him the son of a noble of moderate property. In this he was +of course mistaken, but in other respects perceived, with wonderful +acuteness, how Ulrich had hitherto been circumstanced, nay even declared +that he was a motherless child, a fact proved by many things he lacked. +The boy had been sent to school too late--Pellicanus was a good Latin +scholar--and perhaps had been too early initiated into the mysteries of +riding, hunting, and woodcraft. + +The artist, merely by the boy's appearance, gained a more accurate +knowledge of his real nature, than the jester gathered from his +investigations and inferences. + +Ulrich pleased him, and when he saw the pen-and-ink sketch on the back of +the exercise, which Pellicanus showed him, he smiled and felt +strengthened in the resolve to interest himself still more in the +handsome boy, whom fate had thrown in his way. He now only needed to +discover who the lad's parents were, and what had driven him from the +school. + +The surgeon of the little town had bled Ulrich, and soon after he fell +into a sound sleep, and breathed quietly. The artist and jester now +dined together, for the monks had finished their meal long before, and +were taking a noonday nap. Moor ordered roast meat and wine for the +Lansquenet, who sat modestly in one corner of the large public room, +gazing sadly at his wounded arm. + +"Poor fellow!" said the jester, pointing to the handsome young man. +"We are brothers in calamity; one just like the other; a cart with a +broken wheel." + +"His arm will soon heal," replied the artist, "but your tool"--here he +pointed to his own lips--"is stirring briskly enough now. The monks and +I have both made its acquaintance within the past few days." + +"Well, well," replied Pellicanus, smiling bitterly, "yet they toss me +into the rubbish heap." + +"That would be . . . . ." + +"Ah, you think the wise would then be fools with the fools," interrupted +Pellicanus. "Not at all. Do you know what our masters expect of us?" + +"You are to shorten the time for them with wit and jest." + +"But when must we be real fools, my Lord? Have you considered? Least +of all in happy hours. Then we are expected to play the wise man, warn +against excess, point out shadows. In sorrow, in times of trouble, then, +fool, be a fool! The madder pranks you play, the better. Make every +effort, and if you understand your trade well, and know your master, you +must compel him to laugh till he cries, when he would fain wail for +grief, like a little girl. You know princes too, sir, but I know them +better. They are gods on earth, and won't submit to the universal lot of +mortals, to endure pain and anguish. When people are ill, the physician +is summoned, and in trouble we are at hand. Things are as we take them-- +the gravest face may have a wart, upon which a jest can be made. When +you have once laughed at a misfortune, its sting loses its point. We +deaden it--we light up the darkness--even though it be with a will 'o the +wisp--and if we understand our business, manage to hack the lumpy dough +of heavy sorrow into little pieces, which even a princely stomach can +digest." + +"A coughing fool can do that too, so long as there is nothing wanting in +his upper story." + +"You are mistaken, indeed you are. Great lords only wish to see the +velvet side of life--of death's doings, nothing at all. A man like me-- +do you hear--a cougher, whose marrow is being consumed--incarnate misery +on two tottering legs--a piteous figure, whom one can no more imagine +outside the grave, than a sportsman without a terrier, or hound--such a +person calls into the ears of the ostrich, that shuts its eyes: 'Death +is pointing at you! Affliction is coming!' It is my duty to draw a +curtain between my lord and sorrow; instead of that, my own person brings +incarnate suffering before his eyes. The elector was as wise as if he +were his own fool, when he turned me out of the house." + +"He graciously gave you leave of absence." + +"And Gugelkopf is already installed in the palace as my successor! My +gracious master knows that he won't have to pay the pension long. He +would willingly have supported me up yonder till I died; but my wish to +go to Genoa suited him exactly. The more distance there is between his +healthy highness and the miserable invalid, the better." + +"Why didn't you wait till spring, before taking your departure?" + +"Because Genoa is a hot-house, that the poor consumptive does not need +in summer. It is pleasant to be there in winter. I learned that three +years ago, when we visited the duke. Even in January the sun in Liguria +warms your back, and makes it easier to breathe. I'm going by way of +Marseilles. Will you give me the corner in your carriage as far as +Avignon?" + +"With pleasure! Your health, Pellicanus! A good wish on Christmas day is +apt to be fulfilled." + +The artist's deep voice sounded full and cordial, as he uttered the +words. The young soldier heard them, and as Moor and the jester touched +glasses, he raised his own goblet, drained it to the dregs, and asked +modestly: "Will you listen to a few lines of mine, kind sir?" + +"Say them, say them!" cried the artist, filling his glass again, while +the lansquenet, approaching the table, fixed his eyes steadily on the +beaker, and in an embarrassed manner, repeated: + + "On Christmas-day, when Jesus Christ, + To save us sinners came, + A poor, sore-wounded soldier dared + To call upon his name. + 'Oh! hear,' he said, 'my earnest prayer, + For the kind, generous man, + Who gave the wounded soldier aid, + And bore him through the land. + So, in Thy shining chariot, + I pray, dear Jesus mine, + Thou'lt bear him through a happy life + To Paradise divine.'" + +"Capital, capital!" cried the artist, pledging the lansquenet and +insisting that he should sit down between him and the jester. + +Pellicanus now gazed thoughtfully into vacancy, for what the wounded man +could do, he too might surely accomplish. It was not only ambition, and +the habit of answering every good saying he heard with a better one, but +kindly feeling, that urged him to honor the generous benefactor with a +speech. + +After a few minutes, which Moor spent in talking with the soldier, +Pellicanus raised his glass, coughed again, and said, first calmly, +then in an agitated voice, whose sharp tones grew more and more subdued: + + "A rogue a fool must be, 't is true, + Rog'ry sans folly will not do; + Where folly joins with roguery, + There's little harm, it seems to me. + The pope, the king, the youthful squire, + Each one the fool's cap doth attire; + He who the bauble will not wear, + The worst of fools doth soon appear. + Thee may the motley still adorn, + When, an old man, the laurel crown + Thy head doth deck, while gifts less vain, + Thine age to bless will still remain. + When fair grandchildren thee delight, + Mayst then recall this Christmas night. + When added years bring whitening hair, + The draught of wisdom then wilt share, + But it will lack the flavor due, + Without a drop of folly too. + And if the drop is not at hand, + Remember poor old Pellican, + Who, half a rogue and half a fool, + Yet has a faithful heart and whole." + +"Thanks, thanks!" cried the artist, shaking the jester's hand. "Such a +Christmas ought to be lauded! Wisdom, art, and courage at one table! +Haven't I fared like the man, who picked up stones by the way side, and +to-they were changed to pure gold in his knapsack." + +"The stone was crumbling," replied the jester; "but as for the gold, it +will stand the test with me, if you seek it in the heart, and not in the +pocket. Holy Blasius! Would that my grave might lack filling, as long +as my little strong-box here; I'd willingly allow it." + +"And so would I!" laughed the soldier: + +"Then travelling will be easy for you," said the artist. "There was a +time, when my pouch was no fuller than yours. I know by the experience +of those days how a poor man feels, and never wish to forget it. I still +owe you my after-dinner speech, but you must let me off, for I can't +speak your language fluently. In brief, I wish you the recovery of your +health, Pellican, and you a joyous life of happiness and honor, my worthy +comrade. What is your name?" + +"Hans Eitelfritz von der Lucke, from Colln on the Spree," replied the +soldier. "And, no offence, Herr Moor, God will care for the monks, but +there were three poor invalid fellows in your cart. One goblet more to +the pretty sick boy in there." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +After dinner the artist went with his old servant, who had attended to +the horses and then enjoyed a delicious Christmas roast, to Count von +Hochburg, to obtain an escort for the next day. + +Pellicanus had undertaken to watch Ulrich, who was still sleeping +quietly. + +The jester would gladly have gone to bed himself, for he felt cold and +tired, but, though the room could not be heated, he remained faithfully +at his post for hours. With benumbed hands and feet, he watched by the +light of the night-lamp every breath the boy drew, often gazing at him +as anxiously and sympathizingly, as if he were his own child. + +When Ulrich at last awoke, he timidly asked when he was, and when the +jester had soothed him, begged for a bit of bread, he was so hungry. + +How famished he felt, the contents of the dish that were speedily placed +before him, soon discovered Pellicanus wanted to feed him like a baby, +but the boy took the spoon out of his hand, and the former smilingly +watched the sturdy eater, without disturbing, him, until he was perfectly +satisfied; then he began to perplex the lad with questions, that seemed +to him neither very intelligible, nor calculated to inspire confidence. + +"Well, my little bird!" the jester began, joyously anticipating a +confirmation of the clever inferences he had drawn, "I suppose it was a +long flight to the churchyard, where we found you. On the grave is a +better place than in it, and a bed at Emmendingen, with plenty of grits +and veal, is preferable to being in the snow on the highway, with a +grumbling stomach Speak freely, my lad! Where does your nest of robbers +hang?" + +"Nest of robbers?" repeated Ulrich in amazement. + +"Well, castle or the like, for aught I care," continued Pellicanus +inquiringly. "Everybody is at home somewhere, except Mr. Nobody; but as +you are somebody, Nobody cannot possibly be your father. Tell me about +the old fellow!" + +"My father is dead," replied the boy, and as the events of the preceding +day rushed back upon his memory, he drew the coverlet over his face and +wept. + +"Poor fellow!" murmured the jester, hastily drawing his sleeve across +his eyes, and leaving the lad in peace, till he showed his face again. +Then he continued: "But I suppose you have a mother at home?" + +Ulrich shook his head mournfully, and Pellicanus, to conceal his own +emotion, looked at him with a comical grimace, and then said very kindly, +though not without a feeling of satisfaction at his own penetration: + +"So you are an orphan! Yes, yes! So long as the mother's wings cover +it, the young bird doesn't fly so thoughtlessly out of the warm nest into +the wide world. I suppose the Latin school grew too narrow for the young +nobleman?" + +Ulrich raised himself, exclaiming in an eager, defiant tone: + +"I won't go back to the monastery; that I will not." + +"So that's the way the hare jumps!" cried the fool laughing. "You've +been a bad Latin scholar, and the timber in the forest is dearer to you, +than the wood in the school-room benches. To be sure, they send out no +green shoots. Dear Lord, how his face is burning!" So saying, +Pellicanus laid his hand on the boy's forehead and when he felt that it +was hot, deemed it better to stop his examination for the day, and only +asked his patient his name. + +"Ulrich," was the reply. + +"And what else?" + +"Let me alone!" pleaded the boy, drawing the coverlet over his head +again. + +The jester obeyed his wish, and opened the door leading into the tap- +room, for some one had knocked. The artist's servant entered, to fetch +his master's portmanteau. Old Count von Hochburg had invited Moor to be +his guest, and the painter intended to spend the night at the castle. +Pellicanus was to take care of the boy, and if necessary send for the +surgeon again. An hour after, the sick jester lay shivering in his bed, +coughing before sleeping and between naps. Ulrich too could obtain no +slumber. + +At first he wept softly, for he now clearly realized, for the first time, +that he had lost his father and should never see Ruth, the doctor, nor +the doctor's dumb wife Elizabeth again. Then he wondered how he had come +to Einmendingen, what sort of a place it was, and who the queer little +man could be, who had taken him for a young noble--the quaint little man +with the cough, and a big head, whose eyes sparkled so through his tears. +The jester's mistake made him laugh, and he remembered that Ruth had once +advised him to command the "word," to transform him into a count. + +Suppose he should say to-morrow, that his father had been a knight? + +But the wicked thought only glided through his mind; even before he had +reflected upon it, he felt ashamed of himself, for he was no liar. + +Deny his father! That was very wrong, and when he stretched himself out +to sleep, the image of the valiant smith stood with tangible distinctness +before his soul. Gravely and sternly he floated upon clouds, and looked +exactly like the pictures Ulrich had seen of God the Father, only he wore +the smith's cap on his grey hair. Even in Paradise, the glorified spirit +had not relinquished it. + +Ulrich raised his hands as if praying, but hastily let them fall again, +for there was a great stir outside of the inn. The tramp of steeds, the +loud voices of men, the sound of drums and fifes were audible, then there +was rattling, marching and shouting in the court-yard. + +"A room for the clerk of the muster-roll and paymaster!" cried a +voice. + +"Gently, gently, children!" said the deep tones of the provost, who was +the leader, counsellor and friend of the Lansquenets. "A devout servant +must not bluster at the holy Christmas-tide; he's permitted to drink a +glass, Heaven be praised. Your house is to be greatly honored, Landlord! +The recruiting for our most gracious commander, Count von Oberstein, +is--to be done here. Do you hear, man! Everything to be paid for in +cash, and not a chicken will be lost; but the wine must be good! Do you +understand? So this evening broach a cask of your best. Pardon me, +children--the very best, I meant to say." + +Ulrich now heard the door of the tap-room open, and fancied he could see +the Lansquenets in gay costumes, each one different from the other, crowd +into the apartment. + +The jester coughed loudly, scolding and muttering to himself; but Ulrich +listened with sparkling eyes to the sounds that came through the ill- +fitting door, by which he could hear what was passing in the next room. + +With the clerk of the muster-rolls, the paymaster and provost had +appeared the drummers and fifers, who the day after to-morrow were to +sound the license for recruiting, and besides these, twelve Lansquenets, +who were evidently no novices. + +Many an exclamation of surprise and pleasure was heard directly after +their entrance into the tap-room, and amid the confusion of voices, the +name of Hans Eitelfritz fell more than once upon Ulrich's ear. + +The provost's voice sounded unusually cordial, as he greeted the brave +fellow with the wounded hand--an honor of great value to the latter, for +he had served five years in the same company with the provost, "Father +Kanold," who read the very depths of his soldiers' hearts, and knew them +all as if they were his own sons. + +Ulrich could not understand much amid the medley of voices in the +adjoining room, but when Hans Eitelfritz, from Colln on the Spree, asked +to be the first one put down on the muster-roll, he distinctly heard the +provost oppose the clerk's scruples, saying warmly "write, write; I'd +rather have him with one hand, than ten peevish fellows with two. He has +fun and life in him. Advance him some money too, he probably lacks many +a piece of armor." + +Meantime the wine-cask must have been opened, for the clink of glasses, +and soon after loud singing was audible. + +Just as the second song began, the boy fell asleep, but woke again two +hours after, roused by the stillness that had suddenly succeeded the +uproar. + +Hans Eitelfritz had declared himself ready to give a new song in his best +vein, and the provost commanded silence. + +The singing now began; during its continuance Ulrich raised himself +higher and higher in bed, not a word escaped him, either of the song +itself, or the chorus, which was repeated by the whole party, with +exuberant gayety, amid the loud clinking of goblets. Never before had +the lad heard such bold, joyous voices; even at the second verse his +heart bounded and it seemed as if he must join in the tune, which he had +quickly caught. The song ran as follows: + + Who, who will venture to hold me back? + Drums beat, fifes are playing a merry tune! + Down hammer, down pen, what more need I, alack + I go to seek fortune, good fortune! + + Oh father, mother, dear sister mine, + Blue-eyed maid at the bridge-house, my fair one. + Weep not, ye must not at parting repine, + I go to seek fortune, good fortune! + + The cannon roar loud, the sword flashes bright, + Who'll dare meet the stroke of my falchion? + Close-ranked, horse and foot in battle unite, + In war, war, dwells fortune, good fortune! + + The city is taken, the booty mine; + With red gold, I'll deck--I know whom; + Pair maids' cheeks burn red, red too glows the wine, + Fortune, Paradise of good fortune! + + Deep, scarlet wounds, brave breasts adorn, + Impoverished, crippled age I shun + A death of honor, 'mid glory won, + This too is good fortune, good fortune! + + A soldier-lad composed this ditty + Hans Eitelfritz he, fair Colln's son, + His kindred dwell in the goodly city, + But he himself in fortune, good fortune! + +"He himself in fortune, good fortune," sang Ulrich also, and while, amid +loud shouts of joy, the glasses again clinked against each other, he +repeated the glad "fortune, good fortune." Suddenly, it flashed upon +him like a revelation, "Fortune," that might be the word! + +Such exultant joy, such lark-like trilling, such inspiring promises of +happiness had never echoed in any word, as they now did from the +"fortune," the young lansquenet so gaily and exultantly uttered. + +"Fortune, Fortune!" he exclaimed aloud, and the jester, who was lying +sleepless in his bed and could not help smiling at the lad's singing, +raised himself, saying: + +"Do you like the word? Whoever understands how to seize it when it flits +by, will always float on top of everything, like fat on the soup. Rods +are cut from birches, willows, and knotted hazel-sticks-ho! ho! you know +that, already;--but, for him who has good fortune, larded cakes, rolls +and sausages grow. One bold turn of Fortune's wheel will bring him, who +has stood at the bottom, up to the top with the speed of lightning. +Brother Queer-fellow says: 'Up and down, like an avalanche.' But now +turn over and go to sleep. To-morrow will also be a Christmas-day, which +will perhaps bring you Fortune as a Christmas gift." + +It seemed as if Ulrich had not called upon Fortune in vain, for as soon +as he closed his eyes, a pleasant dream bore him with gentle hands to the +forge on the market-place, and his mother stood beside the lighted +Christmas-tree, pointing to the new sky-blue suit she had made him, and +the apples, nuts, hobby-horse, and jumping jack, with a head as round as +a ball, huge ears, and tiny flat legs. He felt far too old for such +childish toys, and yet took a certain pleasure in them. Then the vision +changed, and he again saw his mother; but this time she was walking among +the angels in Paradise. A royal crown adorned her golden hair, and she +told him she was permitted to wear it there, because she had been so +reviled, and endured so much disgrace on earth. + +When the artist returned from Count von Hochburg's the next morning, he +was not a little surprised to see Ulrich standing before the recruiting- +table bright and well. + +The lad's cheeks were glowing with shame and anger, for the clerk of the +muster-rolls and paymaster had laughed in his face, when he expressed his +desire to become a Lansquenet. + +The artist soon learned what was going on, and bade his protege accompany +him out of doors. Kindly, and without either mockery or reproof, he +represented to him that he was still far too young for military service, +and after Ulrich had confirmed everything the painter had already heard +from the jester, Moor asked who had given him instruction in drawing. + +"My father, and afterwards Father Lukas in the monastery," replied the +boy. "But don't question me as the little man did last night." + +"No, no," said his protector. "But there are one or two more things I +wish to know. Was your father an artist?" + +"No," murmured the lad, blushing and hesitating. But when he met the +stranger's clear gaze, he quickly regained his composure, and said: + +"He only knew how to draw, because he understood how to forge beautiful, +artistic things." + +"And in what city did you live?" + +"In no city. Outside in the woods." + +"Oho!" said the artist, smiling significantly, for he knew that many +knights practised a trade. "Answer only two questions more; then you +shall be left in peace until you voluntarily open your heart to me. What +is your name?" + +"Ulrich." + +"I know that; but your father's?" + +"Adam." + +"And what else?" + +Ulrich gazed silently at the ground, for the smith had borne no other +name. + +"Well then," said Moor, "we will call you Ulrich for the present; that +will suffice. But have you no relatives? Is no one waiting for you at +home?" + +"We have led such a solitary life--no one." + +Moor looked fixedly into the boy's face, then nodded, and with a well- +satisfied expression, laid his hand on Ulrich's curls, and said: + +"Look at me. I am an artist, and if you have any love for my profession, +I will teach you." + +"Oh!" cried the boy, clasping his hands in glad surprise. + +"Well then," Moor continued, "you can't learn much on the way, but we can +work hard in Madrid. We are going now to King Philip of Spain." + +"Spain, Portugal!" murmured Ulrich with sparkling eyes; all he had heard +in the doctor's house about these countries returned to his mind. + +"Fortune, good fortune!" cried an exultant voice in his heart. This was +the "word," it must be, it was already exerting its spell, and the spell +was to prove its inherent power in the near future. + +That very day the party were to go to Count von Rappoltstein in the +village of Rappolts, and this time Ulrich was not to plod along on foot, +or he in a close baggage-wagon; no, he was to be allowed to ride a +spirited horse. The escort would not consist of hired servants, but of +picked men, and the count was going to join the train in person at the +hill crowned by the castle, for Moor had promised to paint a portrait of +the nobleman's daughter, who had married Count von Rappoltstein. It was +to be a costly Christmas gift, which the old gentleman intended to make +himself and his faithful wife. + +The wagon was also made ready for the journey; but no one rode inside; +the jester, closely muffled in wraps, had taken his seat beside the +driver, and the monks were obliged to go on by way of Freiburg, and +therefore could use the vehicle no longer. + +They scolded and complained about it, as if they had been greatly +wronged, and when Sutor refused to shake hands with the artist, +Stubenrauch angrily turned his back upon the kind-hearted man. + +The offended pair sullenly retired, but the Christmas sun shone none +the less brightly from the clear sky, the party of travellers had a gay, +spick and span, holiday aspect, and the world into which they now fared +stoutly forth, was so wide and beautiful, that Ulrich forgot his grief, +and joyously waved his new cap in answer to the Lansquenet's farewell +gesture. + +It was a merry ride, for on the way they met numerous travellers, who +were going through the hamlet of Rappolts to the "three castles on the +mountain" and saluted the old nobleman with lively songs. The Counts von +Rappoltstein were the "piper-kings," the patrons of the brotherhood of +musicians and singers on the Upper Rhine. Usually these joyous birds met +at the castle of their "king" on the 8th of September, to pay him their +little tax and be generously entertained in return; but this year, on +account of the plague in the autumn, the festival had been deferred until +the third day after Christmas, but Ulrich believed 'Fortune' had arranged +it so for him. + +There was plenty of singing, and the violins and rebecs, flutes, and +reed-pipes were never silent. One serenade followed another, and even at +the table a new song rang out at each new course. + +The fiery wine, game and sweet cakes at the castle board undoubtedly +pleased the palate of the artisan's son, but he enjoyed feasting his ears +still more. He felt as if he were in Heaven, and thought less and less +of the grief he had endured. + +Day by day Fortune shook her horn of plenty, and flung new gifts down +upon him. + +He had told the stable-keepers of his power over refractory horses, and +after proving what he could do, was permitted to tame wild stallions and +ride them about the castle-yard, before the eyes of the old and young +count and the beautiful young lady. This brought him praise and gifts +of new clothes. Many a delicate hand stroked his curls, and it always +seemed to him as if his mighty spell could bestow nothing better. + +One day Moor took him aside, and told him that he had commenced a +portrait of young Count Rappolstein too. The lad was obliged to be +still, having broken his foot in a fall from his horse, and as Ulrich was +of the same size and age, the artist wished him to put on the young +count's clothes and serve as a model. + +The smith's son now received the best clothes belonging to his +aristocratic companion in age. The suit was entirely black, but each +garment of a different material, the stockings silk, the breeches satin, +the doublet soft Flanders velvet. Golden-yellow puffs and slashes stood +forth in beautiful relief against the darker stuff. Even the knots of +ribbon on the breeches and shoes were as yellow as a blackbird's beak. +Delicate lace trimmed the neck and fell on the hands, and a clasp of real +gems confined the black and yellow plumes in the velvet hat. + +All this finery was wonderfully becoming to the smith's son, and he must +have been blind, if he had not noticed how old and young nudged each +other at sight of him. The spirit of vanity in his soul laughed in +delight, and the lad soon knew the way to the large Venetian mirror, +which was carefully kept in the hall of state. This wonderful glass +showed Ulrich for the first time his whole figure and the image which +looked back at him from the crystal, flattered and pleased him. + +But, more than aught else, he enjoyed watching the artist's hand and eye +during the sittings. Poor Father Lukas in the monastery must hide his +head before this master. He seemed to actually grow while engaged in his +work, his shoulders, which he usually liked to carry stooping forward, +straightened, the broad, manly breast arched higher, and the kindly eyes +grew stern, nay sometimes wore a terrible expression. + +Although little was said during the sittings, they were always too short +for the boy. He did not stir, for it always seemed to him as if any +movement would destroy the sacred act he witnessed, and when, in the +pauses, he looked at the canvas and saw how swiftly and steadily the work +progressed, he felt as if before his own eyes, he was being born again to +a nobler existence. In the wassail-hall hung the portrait of a young +Prince of Navarre, whose life had been saved in the chase by a +Rappoltstein. Ulrich, attired in the count's clothes, looked exactly +like him. The jester had been the first to perceive this strange +circumstance. Every one, even Moor, agreed with him, and so it happened +that Pellicanus henceforth called his young friend the Navarrete. The +name pleased the boy. Everything here pleased him, and he was full of +happiness; only often at night he could not help grieving because, while +his father was dead, he enjoyed such an overflowing abundance of good +things, and because he had lost his mother, Ruth, and all who had loved +him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +Ulrich was obliged to share the jester's sleeping-room, and as Pellicanus +shrank from getting out of bed, while suffering from night-sweats, and +often needed something, he roused Ulrich from his sleep, and the latter +was always ready to assist him. This happened more frequently as they +continued their journey, and the poor little man's illness increased. + +The count had furnished Ulrich with a spirited young horse, that +shortened the road for him by its tricks and capers. But the jester, who +became more and more attached to the boy, also did his utmost to keep the +feeling of happiness alive in his heart. On warm days he nestled in the +rack before the tilt with the driver, and when Ulrich rode beside him, +opened his eyes to everything that passed before him. + +The jester had a great deal to tell about the country and people, and he +embellished the smallest trifle with tales invented by himself, or +devised by others. + +While passing a grove of birches, he asked the lad if he knew why the +trunks of these trees were white, and then explained the cause, as +follows: + +"When Orpheus played so exquisitely on his lute, all the trees rushed +forward to dance. The birches wanted to come too, but being vain, +stopped to put on white dresses, to outdo the others. When they finally +appeared on the dancing-ground, the singer had already gone--and now, +summer and winter, year in and year out, they keep their white dresses +on, to be prepared, when Orpheus returns and the lute sounds again." + +A cross-bill was perched on a bough in a pine-wood, and the jester said +that this bird was a very peculiar species. It had originally been grey, +and its bill was as straight as a sparrow's, but when the Saviour hung +upon the cross, it pitied him, and with its little bill strove to draw +the nails from the wounded hands. In memory of this friendly act, the +Lord had marked its beak with the cross, and painted a dark-red spot on +its breast, where the bird hall been sprinkled with His Son's blood. +Other rewards were bestowed upon it, for no other bird could hatch a +brood of young ones in winter, and it also had the power of lessening the +fever of those, who cherished it. + +A flock of wild geese flew over the road and the hills, and Pellicanus +cried: "Look there! They always fly in two straight lines, and form a +letter of the alphabet. This time it is an A. Can you see it? When the +Lord was writing the laws on the tablets, a flock of wild geese flew +across Mt. Sinai, and in doing so, one effaced a letter with its wing. +Since that time, they always fly in the shape of a letter, and their +whole race, that is, all geese, are compelled to let those people who +wish to write, pluck the feathers from their wings." + +Pellicanus was fond of talking to the boy in their bedroom. He always +called him Navarrete, and the artist, when in a cheerful mood, followed +his example. + +Ulrich felt great reverence for Moor; the jester, on the contrary, was +only a good comrade, in whom he speedily reposed entire confidence. + +Many an allusion and jesting word showed that Pellicanus still believed +him to be the son of a knight, and this at last became unendurable to the +lad. + +One evening, when they were both in bed, he summoned up his courage and +told him everything he knew about his past life. + +The jester listened attentively, without interrupting him, until Ulrich +finished his story with the words "And while I was gone, the bailiffs and +dogs tracked them, but my father resisted, and they killed him and the +doctor." + +"Yes, yes," murmured the jester. "It's a pity about Costa. Many a +Christian might feel honored at resembling some Jews. It is only a +misfortune to be born a Hebrew, and be deprived of eating ham. The Jews +are compelled to wear an offensive badge, but many a Christian child is +born with one. For instance, in Sparta they would have hurled me into +the gulf, on account of my big head, and deformed shoulder. Nowadays, +people are less merciful, and let men like us drag the cripple's mark +through life. God sees the heart; but men cannot forget their ancestor, +the clod of earth--the outside is always more to them than the inside. +If my head had only been smaller, and some angel had smoothed my +shoulder, I might perhaps now be a cardinal, wear purple, and instead of +riding under a grey tilt, drive in a golden coach, with well-fed black +steeds. Your body was measured with a straight yard stick, but there's +trouble in other places. So your father's name was Adam, and he really +bore no other?" + +"No, certainly not." + +"That's too little by half. From this day we'll call you in earnest +Navarrete: Ulrich Navarrete. That will be something complete. The name +is only a dress, but if half of it is taken from your body, you are left +half-bare and exposed to mockery. The garment must be becoming too, so +we adorn it as we choose. My father was called Kurschner, but at the +Latin school Olearius and Faber and Luscinius sat beside me, so I raised +myself to the rank of a Roman citizen, and turned Kurschner into +Pellicanus. . . ." + +The jester coughed violently, and continued One thing more. To expect +gratitude is folly, nine times out of ten none is reaped, and he who is +wise thinks only of himself, and usually omits to seek thanks; but every +one ought to be grateful, for it is burdensome to have enemies, and there +is no one we learn to hate more easily, than the benefactor we repay with +ingratitude. You ought and must tell the artist your history, for he has +deserved your confidence. + +The jester's worldly-wise sayings, in which selfishness was always +praised as the highest virtue, often seemed very puzzling to the boy, +yet many of them were impressed on his young soul. He followed the sick +man's advice the very next morning, and he had no cause to regret it, for +Moor treated him even more kindly than before. + +Pellicanus intended to part from the travellers at Avignon, to go to +Marseilles, and from there by ship to Savona, but before he reached the +old city of the popes, he grew so feeble, that Moor scarcely hoped to +bring him alive to the goal of his journey. + +The little man's body seemed to continually grow smaller, and his head +larger, while his hollow, livid cheeks looked as if a rose-leaf adorned +the centre of each. + +He often told his travelling-companions about his former life. + +He had originally been destined for the ecclesiastical profession, but +though he surpassed all the other pupils in the school, he was deprived +of the hope of ever becoming a priest, for the Church wants no cripples. +He was the child of poor people, and had been obliged to fight his way +through his career as a student, with great difficulty. + +"How shabby the broad top of my cap often was!" he said. "I was so much +ashamed of it. I am so small. Dear me, anybody could see my head, and +could not help noticing all the worn places in the velvet, if he cast his +eyes down. How often have I sat beside the kitchen of a cook-shop, and +seasoned dry bread with the smell of roast meat. Often too my poodledog +went out and stole a sausage for me from the butcher." + +At other times the little fellow had fared better; then, sitting in the +taverns, he had given free-play to his wit, and imposed no constraint on +his sharp tongue. + +Once he had been invited by a former boon-companion, to accompany him to +his ancestral castle, to cheer his sick father; and so it happened that +he became a buffoon, wandered from one great lord to another, and finally +entered the elector's service. + +He liked to pretend that he despised the world and hated men, but this +assertion could not be taken literally, and was to be regarded in a +general, rather than a special sense, for every beautiful thing in the +world kindled eager enthusiasm in his heart, and he remained kindly +disposed towards individuals to the end. + +When Moor once charged him with this, he said, smiling: + +"What would you have? Whoever condemns, feels himself superior to the +person upon whom he sits in judgment, and how many fools, like me, fancy +themselves great, when they stand on tiptoe, and find fault even with the +works of God! 'The world is evil,' says the philosopher, and whoever +listens to him, probably thinks carelessly: 'Hear, hear! He would have +made it better than our Father in heaven.' Let me have my pleasure. +I'm only a little man, but I deal in great things. To criticise a single +insignificant human creature, seems to me scarcely worth while, but when +we pronounce judgment on all humanity and the boundless universe, we can +open our mouths-wonderfully wide!" + +Once his heart had been filled with love for a beautiful girl, but she +had scornfully rejected his suit and married another. When she was +widowed, and he found her in dire poverty, he helped her with a large +share of his savings, and performed this kind service again, when the +second worthless fellow she married had squandered her last penny. + +His life was rich in similar incidents. + +In his actions, the queer little man obeyed the dictates of his heart; +in his speech, his head ruled his tongue, and this seemed to him the only +sensible course. To practise unselfish generosity he regarded as a +subtle, exquisite pleasure, which he ventured to allow himself, because +he desired nothing more; others, to whom he did not grudge a prosperous +career, he must warn against such folly. + +There was a keen, bitter expression on his large, thin face, and whoever +saw him for the first time might easily have supposed him to be a wicked, +spiteful man. He knew this, and delighted in frightening the men and +maid-servants at the taverns by hideous grimaces--he boasted of being +able to make ninety-five different faces--until the artist's old valet +at last dreaded him like the "Evil One." + +He was particularly gay in Avignon, for he felt better than he had done +for a long time, and ordered a seat to be engaged for him in a vehicle +going to Marseilles. + +The evening before their separation, he described with sparkling +vivacity, the charms of the Ligurian coast, and spoke of the future +as if he were sure of entire recovery and a long life. + +In the night Ulrich heard him groaning louder than usual, and starting +up, raised him, as he was in the habit of doing when the poor little man +was tortured by difficulty of breathing. But this time Pellicanus did +not swear and scold, but remained perfectly still, and when his heavy +head fell like a pumpkin on the boy's breast, he was greatly terrified +and ran to call the artist. + +Moor was soon standing at the head of the sick-bed, holding a light, so +that its rays could fall upon the face of the gasping man. The latter +opened his eyes and made three grimaces in quick succession--very comical +ones, yet tinged with sadness. + +Pellicanus probably noticed the artist's troubled glance, for he tried to +nod to him, but his head was too heavy and his strength too slight, so he +only succeeded in moving it first to the right and then to the left, but +his eyes expressed everything he desired to say. In this way several +minutes elapsed, then Pellicanus smiled, and with a sorrowful gaze, +though a mischievous expression hovered around his mouth, scanned: + +"'Mox erit' quiet and mute, 'gui modo' jester 'erat'." Then he said as +softly as if every tone came, not from his chest, but merely from his +lips + +"Is it agreed, Navarrete, Ulrich Navarrete? I've made the Latin easy for +you, eh? Your hand, boy. Yours, too, dear, dear master.....Moor, +Ethiopian--Blackskin...." + +The words died away in a low, rattling sound, and the dying man's eyes +became glazed, but it was several hours before he drew his last breath. + +A priest gave him Extreme Unction, but consciousness did not return. + +After the holy man had left him, his lips moved incessantly, but no one +could understand what he said. Towards morning, the sun of Provence was +shining warmly and brightly into the room and on his bed, when he +suddenly threw his arm above his head, and half speaking, half singing to +Hans Eitelfritz's melody, let fall from his lips the words: "In fortune, +good fortune." A few minutes after he was dead. + +Moor closed his eyes. Ulrich knelt weeping beside the bed, and kissed +his poor friend's cold hand. + +When he rose, the artist was gazing with silent reverence at the jester's +features; Ulrich followed his eyes, and imagined he was standing in the +presence of a miracle, for the harsh, bitter, troubled face had obtained +a new expression, and was now the countenance of a peaceful, kindly man, +who had fallen asleep with pleasant memories in his heart. + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +No one we learn to hate more easily, than the benefactor +Once laughed at a misfortune, its sting loses its point +To expect gratitude is folly +Whoever condemns, feels himself superior + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A WORD ONLY A WORD, BY EBERS, V2 *** + +*********** This file should be named 5573.txt or 5573.zip ********** + +This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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