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+The Project Gutenberg EBook A Word Only A Word, by Georg Ebers, v5
+#137 in our series by Georg Ebers
+
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+Title: A Word Only A Word, Volume 5.
+
+Author: Georg Ebers
+
+Release Date: April, 2004  [EBook #5576]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on August 12, 2002]
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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A WORD ONLY A WORD, BY EBERS, V5 ***
+
+
+
+This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net>
+
+
+
+
+
+A WORD, ONLY A WORD
+
+By Georg Ebers
+
+Volume 5.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+The Spanish nature is contagious, thought Hans Eitelfritz, tossing on his
+couch in Ulrich's tent.  What a queer fellow the gay young lad has
+become!  Sighs are cheap with him, and every word costs a ducat.  He is
+worthy all honor as a soldier.  If they make him Eletto, it will be worth
+while to join the free army.
+
+Ulrich had briefly told the lansquenet, how he had obtained the name of
+Navarrete and how he had come from Madrid and Lepanto to the Netherlands.
+Then he went to rest, but he could not sleep.
+
+He had found his mother again.  He now possessed the best gift Ruth had
+asked him to beseech of the "word."  The soldier's sweetheart, the
+faithless wife, the companion of his rival, whom only yesterday he had
+avoided, the fortune-teller, the camp-sibyl, was the woman who had given
+him birth.  He, who thought he had preserved his honor stainless, whose
+hand grasped the sword if another looked askance at him, was the child of
+one, at whom every respectable woman had the right to point her finger.
+All these thoughts darted through his brain; but strangely enough, they
+melted like morning mists when the sun rises, before the feeling of joy
+that he had his mother again.
+
+Her image did not rise before his memory in Zorrillo's tent, but framed
+by balsams and wall-flowers.  His vivid imagination made her twenty years
+younger, and how beautiful she still was, how winningly she could glance
+and smile.  Every appreciative word, all the praises of the sibyl's
+beauty, good sense and kindness, which he had heard in the camp, came
+back freshly to his mind, and he would fain have started up to throw
+himself on her bosom, call her his mother, hear her give him all the
+sweet, pet names, which sounded so tender from her lips, and feel the
+caress of her soft hands.  How rich the solitary man felt, how
+surpassingly rich!  He had been entirely alone, deserted even by his
+mother!  Now he was so no longer, and pleasant dreams blended with his
+ambitious plans, like golden threads in dark cloth.
+
+When power was once his, he would build her a beautiful, cosy nest with
+his share of the booty.  She must leave Zorrillo, leave him to-morrow.
+The little nest should belong to her and him alone, entirely alone, and
+when his soul longed for peace, love, and quiet, he would rest there with
+her, recall with her the days of his childhood, cherish and care for her,
+make her forget all her sins and sufferings, and enjoy to the full the
+happiness of having her again, calling a loving mother's heart his own.
+
+At every breath he drew he felt freer and gayer.  Suddenly there was a
+rustling at the tent-door.  He seized his two-handed sword, but did not
+raise it, for a beloved voice he recognized, called softly: "Ulrich,
+Ulrich, it is I!"
+
+He started up, hastily threw on his doublet, rushed towards her, clasped
+her in his arms, and let her stroke his curls, kiss his cheeks and eyes,
+as in the old happy days.  Then he drew her into the tent, whispering
+"Softly, softly, the snorer yonder is the German."
+
+She followed him, leaned against him, and raised his hand to her lips; he
+felt them grow wet with tears.  They had not yet said anything to each
+other, except how happy, how glad, how thankful they were to have each
+other again; then a sentinel passed, and she started up, exclaiming
+anxiously: "So late, so late; Zorrillo will be waiting!"
+
+"Zorrillo!"  cried Ulrich scornfully, "you have been a long time with
+him.  If they give me the power...."
+
+"They will choose you, child, they shall choose you," she hastily
+interrupted.  "Oh, God!  oh, God!  perhaps this will bring you misfortune
+instead of blessing; but you desire it!  Count Mannsfeld is coming
+tomorrow; Zorrillo knows it.  He will bring a pardon for all; promotions
+too, but no money yet."
+
+"Oh, ho!"  cried  Ulrich, "that may decide the matter."
+
+"Perhaps so, you deserve to command them.  You were born for some special
+purpose, and your card always turns up so strangely.  Eletto!  It sounds
+proud and grand, but many have been ruined by it...."
+
+"Because power was too hard for them."
+
+"It must serve you.  You are strong.  A child of good fortune.  Folly!
+I will not fear.  You have probably fared well in life.  Ah, my lamb, I
+have done little for you, but one thing I did unceasingly: I prayed for
+you, poor boy, morning and night; have you noticed, have you felt it?"
+
+He drew her to his heart again, but she released herself from his
+embrace, saying: "To-morrow, Ulrich; Zorrillo...."
+
+"Zorrillo, always Zorrillo," he repeated, his blood boiling angrily.
+"You are mine and, if you love me, you will leave him."
+
+"I cannot, Ulrich, it will not do.  He is kind, you will yet be friends."
+
+"We, we?  On the day of judgment, nay, not even then!  Are you more
+firmly bound to yon smooth fellow, than to my honest father?  There
+stands something in the darkness, it is good steel, and if needful will
+cut the tie asunder."
+
+"Ulrich, Ulrich !"  wailed Flora, raising her hands beseechingly.  "Not
+that, not that; it must not be.  He is kind and sensible, and loves me
+fondly.  Oh, Heaven!  Oh, Ulrich!  The mother has glided to her son at
+night, as if she were following forbidden paths.  Oh, this is indeed a
+punishment.  I know how heavily I have sinned, I deserve whatever may
+befall me; but you, you must not make me more wretched, than I already
+am.  Your father, he ....if he were still alive, for your sake I would
+crawl to him on my knees, and say: "Here I am, forgive me--but he is
+dead.  Pasquale, Zorrillo lives; do not think me a vain, deluded woman;
+Zorrillo cannot bear to have me leave him...."
+
+"And my father?  He bore it.  But do you know how?  Shall I describe his
+life to you?"
+
+"No, no!  Oh, child, how you torture me!  I know how I sinned against
+your father, the thought does not cease to torture me, for he truly loved
+me, and I loved him, too, loved him tenderly.  But I cannot keep quiet a
+long time, and cast down my eyes, like the women there, it is not in my
+blood; and Adam shut me up in a cage and for many years let me see
+nothing except himself, and the cold, stupid city in the ravine by the
+forest.  One day a fierce longing came upon me, I could not help going
+forth--forth into the wide world, no matter with whom or whither.  The
+soldier only needed to hint and I fell.--I did not stay with him long,
+he was a windy braggart; but I was faithful to Captain Grandgagnage and
+accompanied the wild fellow with the Walloons through every land, until
+he was shot.  Then ten years ago, I joined Zorrillo; he is my friend,
+he shares my feelings, I am necessary to his existence.  Do not laugh,
+Ulrich; I well know that youth lies behind me, that I am old, yet
+Pasquale loves me; since I have had him, I have been more content and,
+Holy Virgin!  now--I love him in return.  Oh, Heaven!  Oh, Heaven!  Why
+is it so?  This heart, this miserable heart, still throbs as fast as it
+did twenty years ago."
+
+"You will not leave him?"
+
+"No, no, I love him, and I know why.  Every one calls him a brave man,
+yet they only half know him; no one knows him wholly as I do.  No one
+else is so good, so generous.  You must let me speak!  Do you suppose I
+ever forgot you?  Never, never!  But you have always been to me the dear
+little boy; I never thought of you as a man, and since I could not have
+you and longed so greatly for you, for a child, I opened my heart to the
+soldiers' orphans, the little creature you saw in the tent is one of
+these poor things, I have often had two or three such babies at the same
+time.  It would have been an abomination to Grandgagnage, but Zorrillo
+rejoices in my love for children, and I have given what the Walloon
+bequeathed me and his own booty to the soldiers' widows and the little
+naked babies in the camp.  He was satisfied, for whatever I do pleases
+him.  I will not, cannot leave him!"
+
+She paused, hiding her face in her hands, but Ulrich paced to and fro,
+violently agitated.  At last he said firmly: "Yet you must part from him.
+He or I!  I will have nothing to do with the lover of my father's wife.
+I am Adam's son, and will be constant to him.  Ah, mother, I have been
+deprived of you so long.  You can tend strangers' orphaned children, yet
+you make your own son an orphan.  Will you do this?  No, a thousand
+times, no, you cannot!  Do not weep so, you must not weep!  Hear me, hear
+me!  For my sake, leave this Spaniard!  You will not repent it.  I have
+just been dreaming of the nest I will build for you.  There I will
+cherish and care for you, and you shall keep as many orphan children as
+you choose.  Leave him, mother, you must leave him for the sake of your
+child, your Ulrich!"
+
+"Oh, God!  oh, God!" she sobbed.  "I will try, yes, I will try....
+My child, my dear child!"
+
+Ulrich clasped her closely in his arms, kissed her hair, and said,
+softly: "I know, I know, you need love, and you shall find it with me."
+
+"With you!" she repeated, sobbing.  Then releasing herself from his
+embrace she hurried to the feverish woman, at whose summons she had left
+her tent.
+
+As morning dawned, she returned home and found Zorrillo still awake.  He
+enquired about her patient, and told her he had given the child something
+to drink while she was away.
+
+Flora could not help weeping bitterly again, and Zorrillo, noticing it,
+exclaimed chidingly: "Each has his own griefs to bear, it is not wise to
+take strangers' troubles so deeply to heart."
+
+"Strangers' troubles," she repeated, mournfully, and went to rest.
+
+White-haired woman, why have you remained so young?  All the cares and
+sorrows of youth and age are torturing you at the same time!  One love
+is fighting a mortal battle with another in your breast.  Which will
+conquer?
+
+She knows, she knew it ere she entered the tent.  The mother fled from
+the child, but she cannot abandon her new-found son.  Oh, maternal love,
+thou dost hover in radiant bliss far above the clouds, and amid choirs of
+angels!  Oh, maternal heart, thou dost bleed pierced with swords, more
+full of sorrows than any other!
+
+Poor, poor Florette!  On this July  morning she was enduring superhuman
+tortures, all the sins she had committed arrayed themselves against her,
+shrieking into her ear that she was a lost woman, and there could be no
+pardon for her either in this world or the next.  Yet!--the clouds drift
+by, birds of passage migrate, the musician wanders singing from land to
+land, finds love, and remorselessly strips off light fetters to seek
+others.  His child imitates the father, who had followed the example of
+his, the same thing occurring back to their remotest ancestors!  But
+eternal justice?  Will it measure the fluttering leaf by the same
+standard as the firmly-rooted plant?
+
+When Zorrillo saw Flora by the daylight, he said, kindly: "You have been
+weeping?"
+
+"Yes," she answered, fixing her eyes on the ground.  He thought she was
+anxious, as on a former occasion, lest his election to the office of
+Eletto might prove his ruin, so he drew her towards him, exclaiming "Have
+no fear, Bonita.  If they choose me, and Mannsfeld comes, as he promised,
+the play will end this very day.  I hope, even at the twelfth hour, they
+will listen to reason, and allow themselves to be guided into the right
+course.  If they make the young madcap Eletto--his head will be at stake,
+not mine.  Are you ill?  How you look, child!  Surely, surely you must be
+suffering; you shall not go out at night to nurse sick people again!"
+
+The words came from an anxious heart, and sounded warm and gentle.
+They penetrated Florette's inmost soul, and overwhelmed with passionate
+emotion she clasped his hands, kissed them, and exclaimed, softly
+"Thanks, thanks, Pasquale, for your love, for all.  I will never, never
+forget it, whatever happens!  Go, go; the drum is beating again."
+
+Zorrillo fancied she was uttering mere feverish ravings, and begged her
+to calm herself; then he left the tent, and went to the place where the
+election was to be held.
+
+As soon as Flora was alone, she threw herself on her knees before the
+Madonna's picture, but knew not whether it would be right to pray that
+her son might obtain an office, which had proved the ruin of so many; and
+when she besought the Virgin to give her strength to leave her lover, it
+seemed to her like treason to Pasquale.
+
+Her thoughts grew confused, and she could not pray.  Her mobile mind
+wandered swiftly from lofty to petty things; she seized the cards to see
+whether fate would unite her to Zorrillo or to Ulrich, and the red ten,
+which represented herself, lay close beside the green knave, Pasquale.
+She angrily threw them down, determined, in spite of the oracle, to
+follow her son.
+
+Meantime in the camp drums beat, fifes screamed shrilly, trumpets blared,
+and the shouts and voices of the assembled soldiers sounded like the
+distant roar of the surf.
+
+A fresh burst of military music rang out, and now Florette started to her
+feet and listened.  It seemed as if she heard Ulrich's voice, and the
+rapid throbbing of her heart almost stopped her breath.  She must go out,
+she must see and hear what was passing.  Hastily pushing the white hair
+back from her brow, she threw a veil over it, and hurried through the
+camp to the spot where the election was taking place.
+
+The soldiers all knew her and made way for her.  The leaders of the
+mutineers were standing on the wall of earth between the field-pieces,
+and amid the foremost rank, nay, in front of them all, her son was
+addressing the crowd.
+
+The choice wavered between him and Zorrillo.  Ulrich had already been
+speaking a long time.  His cheeks were glowing and he looked so handsome,
+so noble, in his golden helmet, from beneath which floated his thick,
+fair locks, that her heart swelled with joy, and as the night grows
+brighter when the black clouds are torn asunder and the moon victoriously
+appears, grief and pain were suddenly irradiated by maternal love and
+pride.
+
+Now he drew his tall figure up still higher, exclaiming: "Others are
+readier and bolder with the tongue than I, but I can speak with the sword
+as well as any one."
+
+Then raising the heavy two-handed sword, which others laboriously managed
+with both hands, he swung it around his head, using only his right hand,
+in swift circles, until it fairly whistled through the air.
+
+The soldiers shouted exultingly as they beheld the feat, and when he had
+lowered the weapon and silence was restored, he continued, defiantly,
+while his breath came quick and short: "And where do the talkers, the
+parleyers seek to lead us?  To cringe like dogs, who lick their masters'
+feet, before the men who cheat us.  Count Mannsfeld will come to-day;
+I know it, and I have also learned that he will bring everything except
+what is our due, what we need, what we intend to demand, what we require
+for our bare feet, our ragged bodies; money, money he has not to offer!
+This is so, I swear it; if not, stand forth, you parleyers, and give me
+the lie!  Have you inclination or courage to give the lie to Navarrete?
+--You are silent!--But we will speak!  We will not suffer ourselves to be
+mocked and put off!  What we demand is fair pay for good work.  Whoever
+has patience, can wait.  Mine is exhausted.
+
+"We are His Majesty's obedient servants and wish to remain so.  As soon as
+he keeps his bargain, he can rely upon us; but when he breaks it, we are
+bound to no one but ourselves, and Santiago! we are not the weaker party.
+We need money, and if His Majesty lacks ducats, a city where we can find
+what we want.  Money or a city, a city or money!  The demand is just, and
+if you elect me, I will stand by it, and not shrink if it rouses
+murmuring behind me or against me.  Whoever has a brave heart under his
+armor, let him follow me; whoever wishes to creep after Zorrillo, can do
+so.  Elect me, friends, and I will get you more than we need, with honor
+and fame to boot.  Saint Jacob and the Madonna will aid us.  Long live
+the king!"
+
+"Long live the king!  Long live  Navarrete!  Navarrete!  Hurrah for
+Navarrete!" echoed loudly, impetuously from a thousand bearded lips.
+
+Zorrillo had no opportunity to speak again.  The election was made.
+
+Ulrich was chosen Eletto.
+
+As if on wings, he went from man to man, shaking hands with his comrades.
+Power, power, the highest prize on earth, was attained, was his!  The
+whole throng, soldiers, tyros, women, girls and children, crowded around
+him, shouting his name; whoever wore a hat or cap, tossed it in the air,
+whoever had a kerchief, waved it.  Drums beat, trumpets sounded, and the
+gunner ordered all the field-pieces to be discharged, for the choice
+pleased him.
+
+Ulrich stood, as if intoxicated, amid the shouts, shrieks of joy,
+military music, and thunder of the cannon.  He raised his helmet, waved
+salutations to the crowd, and strove to speak, but the uproar drowned his
+words.
+
+After the election Florette slipped quietly away; first to the empty tent
+then to the sick woman who needed her care.
+
+The Eletto had no time to think of his mother; for scarcely had he given
+a solemn oath of loyalty to his comrades and received theirs, when Count
+Mannsfeld appeared.
+
+The general was received with every honor.  He knew Navarrete, and the
+latter entered into negotiations with the manly dignity natural to him;
+but the count really had nothing but promises to offer, and the
+insurgents would not give up their demand: "Money or a city!"
+
+The nobleman reminded them of their oath of allegiance, made lavish use
+of kind words, threats and warnings, but the Eletto remained firm.
+Mannsfeld perceived that he had come in vain; the only concession he
+could obtain from Navarrete was, that some prudent man among the leaders
+should accompany him to Brussels, to explain the condition of the
+regiments to the council of state there, and receive fresh proposals.
+Then the count suggested that Zorrillo should be entrusted with the
+mission, and the Eletto ordered the quartermaster to prepare for
+departure at once.  An hour after the general left the camp with Flora's
+lover in his train.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+The fifth night after the Eletto's election was closing in, a light rain
+was falling, and no sound was heard in the deserted streets of the
+encampment except now and then the footsteps of a sentinel, or the cries
+of a child.  In Zorrillo's tent, which was usually brightly lighted until
+a late hour of the night, only one miserable brand was burning, beside
+which sat the sleepy bar-maid, darning a hole in her frieze-jacket.  The
+girl did not expect any one, and started when the door of the tent was
+violently torn open, and her master, followed by two newly-appointed
+captains, came straight up to her.
+
+Zorrillo held his hat in his hand, his hair, slightly tinged with grey,
+hung in a tangled mass over his forehead, but he carried himself as erect
+as ever.  His body did not move, but his eyes wandered from one corner of
+the tent to another, and the girl crossed herself and held up two fingers
+towards him, for his dark glance fell upon her, as he at last exclaimed,
+in a hollow tone:
+
+"Where is the mistress?"
+
+"Gone, I could not help it" replied the girl.
+
+"Where?"
+
+"To the Eletto, to Navarrete."
+
+"When?"
+
+"He came and took her and the child, directly after you had left the
+camp."
+
+"And she has not returned?"
+
+"She has just sent a roast chicken, which I was to keep for you when you
+came home.  There it is."  Zorrillo laughed.  Then he turned to his
+companions, saying:
+
+"I thank you.  You have now....  Is she still with the Eletto?"
+
+"Why, of course."
+
+"And who--who saw her the night before the election--let me sit down--who
+saw her with him then?"
+
+"My brother," replied one of the captains.  "She was just coming out of
+the tent, as he passed with the guard."
+
+"Don't take the matter to heart," said the other.  "There are plenty of
+women!  We are growing old, and can no longer cope with a handsome fellow
+like Navarrete."
+
+"I thought the sibyl was more sensible," added the younger captain.
+"I saw her in Naples sixteen years ago.  Zounds, she was a beautiful
+woman then!  A pretty creature even now; but Navarrete might almost be
+her son.  And you always treated her kindly, Pasquale.  Well, whoever
+expects gratitude from women...."
+
+Suddenly the quartermaster remembered the hour just before the election,
+when Florette had thrown herself upon his breast, and thanked him for his
+kindness; clenching his teeth, he groaned aloud.
+
+The others were about to leave him, but he regained his self-control, and
+said:
+
+"Take him the count's letter, Renato.  What I have to say to him, I will
+determine later."
+
+Zorrillo was a long time unlacing his jerkin and taking out the paper.
+Both of his companions noticed how his fingers trembled, and looked at
+each other compassionately; but the older one said, as he received the
+letter:
+
+"Man, man, this will do no good.  Women are like good fortune."
+
+"Take the thing as a thousand others have taken it, and don't come to
+blows.  You wield a good blade, but to attack Navarrete is suicide.  I'll
+take him the letter.  Be wise, Zorrillo, and look for another love at
+once."
+
+"Directly, directly, of course," replied the quartermaster; but as soon
+as he had sent the maid-servant away, and was entirely alone, he bowed
+his forehead upon the table and his shoulders heaved convulsively.  He
+remained in this attitude a long time, then paced to and fro with forced
+calmness.  Morning dawned long ere he sought his couch.
+
+Early the next day he made his report to the Eletto before the assembled
+council of war, and when it broke up, approached Navarrete, saying, in so
+loud a tone that no one could fail to hear:
+
+"I congratulate you on your new sweetheart."
+
+"With good reason," replied the Eletto.  "Wait a little while, and I'll
+wager that you'll congratulate me more sincerely than you do to-day."
+
+The offers from Brussels had again proved unacceptable.  It was necessary
+now to act, and the insurgent commander profited by the time at his
+disposal.  It seemed as if "power" doubled his elasticity and energy.
+It was so delightful, after the march, the council of war, and the day's
+work were over, to rest with his mother, listen to her, and open his own
+heart.  How had she preserved--yes, he might call it so--her aristocratic
+bearing, amid the turmoil, perils, and mire of camp-life, in spite of
+all, all!  How cleverly and entertainingly she could talk about men and
+things, how comical the ideas, with which she understood how to spice the
+conversation, and how well versed he found her in everything that related
+to the situation of the regiments and his own position.  She had not been
+the confidante of army leaders in vain.
+
+By her advice he relinquished his plan of capturing Mechlin, after
+learning from spies that it was prepared and expecting the attack of the
+insurgents.
+
+He could not enter upon a long siege with the means at his command; his
+first blow must not miss the mark.  So he only showed himself near
+Brussels, sent Captain Montesdocca, who tried to parley again, back with
+his mission unaccomplished, marched in a new direction to mislead his
+foes, and then unexpectedly assailed wealthy Aalst in Flanders.
+
+The surprised inhabitants tried to defend their well-fortified city, but
+the citizens' strength could not withstand the furious assault of the
+well-drilled, booty-seeking army.
+
+The conquered city belonged to the king.  It was the pledge of what the
+rebels required, and they indemnified themselves in it for the pay that
+had been with held.  All who attempted to offer resistance fell by the
+sword, all the citizens' possessions were seized by the soldiers, as the
+wages that belonged to them.
+
+In the shops under the Belfry, the great tower from whence the bell
+summoned the inhabitants when danger threatened, lay plenty of cloth for
+new doublets.  Nor was there any lack of gold or silver in the treasury
+of the guild-hall, the strong boxes of the merchants, the chests of the
+citizens.  The silver table-utensils, the gold ornaments of the women,
+the children's gifts from godparents fell into the hands of the
+conquerors, while a hundred and seventy rich villages near Aalst were
+compelled to furnish food for the mutineers.
+
+Navarrete did not forbid the plundering.  According to his opinion, what
+soldiers took by assault was well-earned booty.  To him the occupation of
+Aalst was an act of righteous self-defence, and the regiments shared his
+belief, and were pleased with their Eletto.
+
+The rebels sought and found quarters in the citizens' houses, slept in
+their beds, eat from their dishes, and drank their wine-cellars empty.
+Pillage was permitted for three days.  On the fifth discipline was
+restored, the quartermaster's department organized, and the citizens were
+permitted to assemble at the guild-hall, pursue their trades and
+business, follow the pursuits to which they had been accustomed.  The
+property they had saved was declared unassailable; besides, robbery had
+ceased to be very remunerative.
+
+The Eletto was at liberty to choose his own quarters, and there was no
+lack of stately dwellings in Aalst.  Ulrich might have been tempted to
+occupy the palace of Baron de Hierges, but passed it by, selecting as a
+home for his mother and himself a pretty little house on the market-
+place, which reminded him of his father's smithy.  The bow-windowed room,
+with the view of the belfry and the stately guildhall, was pleasantly
+fitted up for his mother, and the city gardeners received orders to send
+the finest house-plants to his residence.  Soon the sitting-room, adorned
+with flowers and enlivened by singing-birds, looked far handsomer and
+more cosy than the nest of which he had dreamed.  A little white dog,
+exactly like the one Florette had possessed in the smithy, was also
+procured, and when in the evening the warm summer air floated into the
+open windows, and Ulrich sat alone with Florette, recalling memories of
+the past, or making plans for the future, it seemed as if a new spring
+had come to his soul.  The citizens' distress did not trouble him.  They
+were the losing party in the grim game of war, enemies--rebels.  Among
+his own men he saw nothing but joyous faces; he exercised the power--they
+obeyed.
+
+Zorrillo bore him ill-will, Ulrich read it in his eyes; but he made him
+a captain, and the man performed his duty as quartermaster in the most
+exemplary manner.  Florette wished to tell him that the Eletto was her
+son, but the latter begged her to wait till his power was more firmly
+established, and how could she refuse her darling anything?  She had
+grieved deeply, very deeply, but this mood soon passed away, and now she
+could be happy in Ulrich's society, and forget sorrow and heartache.
+
+What joy it was to have him back, to be loved by him!  Where was there a
+more affectionate son, a pleasanter home than hers?  The velvet and
+brocade dresses belonging to the Baroness de Hierges had fallen to the
+Eletto.  How young Florette looked in them!  When she glanced into the
+mirror, she was astonished at herself.
+
+Two beautiful riding-horses for ladies' use and elegant trappings had
+been found in the baron's stable.  Ulrich had told her of it, and the
+desire to ride with him instantly arose in her mind.  She had always
+accompanied Grandgagnage, and when she now went out, attired in a long
+velvet riding-habit, with floating plumes in her dainty little hat,
+beside her son, she soon noticed how admiringly even the hostile citizens
+and their wives looked after them.  It was a pretty sight to behold the
+handsome soldier, full of pride and power, galloping on the most spirited
+stallion, beside the beautiful, white-haired woman, whose eyes sparkled
+with vivacious light.
+
+Zorrillo often met them, when they passed the guildhall, and Florette
+always gave him a friendly greeting with her whip, but he intentionally
+averted his eyes or if he could not avoid it, coldly returned her
+recognition.
+
+This wounded her deeply, and when alone, it often happened that she sunk
+into gloomy reverie and, with an aged, weary face, gazed fixedly at the
+floor.  But Ulrich's approach quickly cheered and rejuvenated her.
+
+Florette now knew what her son had experienced in life, what had moved
+his heart, his soul, and could not contradict him, when he told her that
+power was the highest prize of existence.
+
+The Eletto's ambitious mind could not be satisfied with little Aalst.
+The mutineers had been outlawed by an edict from Brussels, but the king
+had nothing to do with this measure; the shameful proclamation was only
+intended to stop the wailing of the Netherlanders.  They would have to
+pay dearly for it!  There was a great scheme in view.
+
+The Antwerp of those days was called "as rich as the Indies;" the project
+under consideration was the possibility of manoeuvring this abode of
+wealth into the hands of the mutineers; the whole Spanish army in the
+Netherlands being about to follow the example of the regiments in Aalst.
+
+The mother was the friend and counsellor of the son.  At every step he
+took he heard her opinion, and often yielded his own in its favor.  This
+interest in the direction of great events occupied the sibyl's versatile
+mind.  When, on many occasions, pros and tons were equal in weight, she
+brought out the cards, and this oracle generally turned the scale.
+
+No high aim, no desire to accomplish good and great things in wider
+spheres, influenced the thoughts and actions of this couple.
+
+What cared they, that the weal and woe of thousands depended on their
+decision?  The deadly weapon in their bands was to them only a valuable
+utensil in which they delighted, and with which fruits were plucked from
+the trees.
+
+Ulrich now saw the fulfilment of Don Juan's words, that power was an
+arable field; for there were many full ears in Aalst for them both to
+harvest.
+
+Florette still nursed, with maternal care, the soldier's orphan which she
+had taken to her son's house; the child, born on a bed of straw--was now
+clothed in dainty linen, laces and other beautiful finery.  It was
+necessary to her, for she occupied herself with the helpless little
+creature when, during the long morning hours of Ulrich's absence,
+sorrowful thought troubled her too deeply.
+
+Ulrich often remained absent a long time, far longer than the service
+required.  What was he doing?  Visiting a sweetheart?  Why not?  She only
+marvelled that the fair women did not come from far and near to see the
+handsome man.
+
+Yes, the Eletto had found an old love.  Art, which he had sullenly
+forsaken.  News had reached his ears, that an artist had fallen in the
+defence of the city.  He went to the dead man's house to see his works,
+and how did he find the painter's dwelling!  Windows, furniture were
+shattered, the broken doors of the cupboards hung into the rooms on their
+bent hinges.  The widow and her children were lying in the studio on a
+heap of straw.  This touched his heart, and he gave alms with an open
+hand to the sorrowing woman.  A few pictures of the saints, which the
+Spaniards had spared, hung on the walls; the easel, paints and brushes
+had been left untouched.
+
+A thought, which he instantly carried into execution, entered his mind.
+He would paint a new standard!  How his heart beat, when he again stood
+before the easel!
+
+He regarded the heretics as heathens.  The Spaniards were shortly going
+to fight against them and for the faith.  So be painted the Saviour on
+one side of the standard, the Virgin on the other.  The artist's widow
+sat to him for the Madonna, a young soldier for the Christ.
+
+No scruples, no consideration for the criticisms of teachers now checked
+his creating hand; the power was his, and whatever he did must be right.
+
+He placed upon the Saviour's bowed figure, Costa's head, as he had
+painted it in Titian's studio, and the Madonna, in defiance of the stern
+judges in Madrid, received the sibyl's face, to please himself and do
+honor to his mother.  He made her younger, transformed her white hair to
+gleaming golden tresses.  One day he asked Flora to sit still and think
+of something very serious; he wanted to sketch her.
+
+She gaily placed herself in position, saying:
+
+"Be quick, for serious thoughts don't last long with me."
+
+A few days later both pictures were finished, and possessed no mean
+degree of merit; he rejoiced that after the long interval he could still
+accomplish something.  His mother was delighted with her son's
+masterpieces, especially the Madonna, for she instantly recognized
+herself, and was touched by this proof of his faithful remembrance.  She
+had looked exactly like it when a young girl, she said; it was strange
+how precisely he had hit the color of her hair; but she was afraid it was
+blaspheming to paint a Madonna with her face; she was a poor sinner,
+nothing more.
+
+Florette was glad that the work was finished, for restlessness again
+began to torture her, and the mornings had been so lonely.  Zorrillo--it
+caused her bitter pain--had not cast even a single glance at her, and she
+began to miss the society of men, to which she had been accustomed.  But
+she never complained, and always showed Ulrich the same cheerful face,
+until the latter told her one day that he must leave her for some time.
+
+He had already defeated in little skirmishes small bodies of peasants
+and citizens, who had taken the field against the mutineers; now Colonel
+Romero called upon him to help oppose a large army of patriots, who had
+assembled between Lowen and Tirlemont, under the command of the noble
+Sieur de Floyon.  It was said to consist Of students and other rebellious
+brawlers, and so it proved;  but the "rebels" were the flower of the
+youth of the shamefully-oppressed nation, noble souls, who found it
+unbearable to see their native land enslaved by mutinous hordes.
+
+Ulrich's parting with his mother was not a hard one.  He felt sure of
+victory and of returning home, but the excitable woman burst into tears
+as she bade him farewell.
+
+The Eletto took the field with a large body of troops; the majority of
+the mutineers, with them.  Captain and Quartermaster Zorrillo, remained
+behind to hold the citizens in check.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+A considerable, but hastily-collected army of patriots had been utterly
+routed at Tisnacq by a small force of disciplined Spaniards.
+
+Ulrich had assisted his countrymen to gain the speedy victory, and had
+been greeted by his old colonel, the brave Romero, the bold cavalry-
+commander, Mendoza, and other distinguished officers as one of
+themselves.  Since these aristocrats had become mutineers, the Eletto
+was a brother, and they did not disdain to secure his cooperation in the
+attack they were planning upon Antwerp.
+
+He had shown great courage under fire, and wherever he appeared, his
+countrymen held out their hands to him, vowing obedience and loyalty unto
+death.
+
+Ulrich felt as if he were walking on air, mere existence was a joy to
+him.  No prince could revel in the blissful consciousness of increasing
+power, more fully than he.  The evening after the decision he had
+attended a splendid banquet with Romero, Vargas, Mendoza, Tassis, and the
+next morning the prisoners, who had fallen into the hands of his men,
+were brought before him.
+
+He had left the examination of the students, citizens' sons, and peasants
+to his lieutenant; but there were also three noblemen, from whom large
+ransoms could be obtained.  The two older ones had granted what he asked
+and been led away; the third, a tall man in knightly armor, was left
+last.
+
+Ulrich had personally encountered the latter.  The prisoner, mounted upon
+a tall steed, had pressed him very closely; nay, the Eletto's victory was
+not decided, until a musket-shot had stretched the other's horse on the
+ground.
+
+The knight now carried his arm in a sling.  In the centre of his coat of
+mail and on the shoulder-pieces of his armor, the ensigns armorial of a
+noble family were embossed.
+
+"You were dragged out from under your horse," said the Eletto to the
+knight.  "You wield an excellent blade."
+
+He had spoken in Spanish, but the other shrugged his shoulders, and
+answered in the German language "I don't understand Spanish."
+
+"Are you a German?"  Ulrich now asked in his native tongue.  "How do you
+happen to be among the Netherland rebels?"
+
+The nobleman looked at the Eletto in surprise.  But the latter, giving
+him no time for reflection, continued "I understand German; your answer?"
+
+"I had business in Antwerp?"
+
+"What business?"
+
+"That is my affair."
+
+"Very well.  Then we will drop courtesy and adopt a different tone."
+
+"Nay, I am the vanquished party, and will answer you."
+
+"Well then?"
+
+"I had stuffs to buy."
+
+"Are you a merchant?"
+
+The knight shook his head and answered, smiling: "We have rebuilt our
+castle since the fire."
+
+"And now you need hangings and artistic stuff.  Did you expect to capture
+them from us?"
+
+"Scarcely, sir."
+
+"Then what brought you among our enemies?"
+
+"Baron Floyon belongs to my mother's family.  He marched against you, and
+as I approved his cause...."
+
+"And pillage pleases you, you felt disposed to break a lance."
+
+"Quite right."
+
+"And you have done your cause no harm.  Where do you live?"
+
+"Surely you know: in Germany."
+
+"Germany is a very large country."
+
+"In the Black Forest in Swabia."
+
+"And your name?"
+
+The prisoner made no reply; but Ulrich fixed his eyes upon the coat of
+arms on the knight's armor, looked at him more steadily, and a strange
+smile hovered around his lips as he approached him, saying in an altered
+tone: "You think the Navarrete will demand from Count von Frohlinger a
+ransom as large as his fields and forests?"
+
+"You know me?"
+
+"Perhaps so, Count Lips."
+
+"By Heavens!"
+
+"Ah, ha, you went from the monastery to the field."
+
+"From the monastery?  How do you know that, sir?"
+
+"We are old acquaintances, Count Lips.  Look me in the eyes."
+
+The other gazed keenly at the Eletto, shook his head, and said: "You have
+not seemed a total stranger to me from the first; but I never was in
+Spain."
+
+"But I have been in Swabia, and at that time you did me a kindness.
+Would your ransom be large enough to cover the cost of a broken church
+window?"
+
+The count opened his eyes in amazement and a bright smile flashed over
+his face as, clapping his hands, he exclaimed with sincere delight:
+
+"You, you--you are Ulrich!  I'll be damned, if I'm mistaken!  But who the
+devil would discover a child of the Black Forest in the Spanish Eletto?"
+
+"That I am one, must remain a secret between us for the present,"
+exclaimed Ulrich, extending his hand to the count.  "Keep silence, and
+you will be free--the window will cover the ransom!"
+
+"Holy Virgin!  If all the windows in the monastery were as dear, the
+monks might grow fat!" cried the count.  "A Swabian heart remains half
+Swabian, even when it beats under a Spanish doublet.  Its luck, Turk's
+luck, that I followed Floyon;--and your old father, Adam?  And Ruth--what
+a pleasure!"
+
+"You ought to know....my father is dead, died long, long ago!" said
+Ulrich, lowering his eyes.
+
+"Dead!" exclaimed the other.  "And long ago?  I saw him at the anvil
+three weeks since."
+
+"My father?  At the anvil?  And Ruth?...."  stammered Ulrich, gazing at
+the other with a pallid, questioning face.
+
+"They are alive, certainly they are alive!  I met him again in Antwerp.
+No one else can make you such armor.  The devil is in it, if you hav'nt
+heard of the Swabian armorer."
+
+"The Swabian--the Swabian--is he my father?"
+
+"Your own father.  How long ago is it?  Thirteen years, for I was then
+sixteen.  That was the last time I saw him, and yet I recognized him at
+the first glance.  True, I shall never forget the hour, when the dumb
+woman drew the arrow from the Jew's breast.  The scene I witnessed that
+day in the forest still rises before my eyes, as if it were happening
+now."
+
+"He lives, they did not kill him!" exclaimed the Eletto, now first
+beginning to rejoice over the surprising news.  "Lips, man--Philipp!
+I have found my mother again, and now my father too.  Wait, wait!  I'll
+speak to the lieutenant, he must take my place, and you and I will ride
+to Lier; there you will tell me the whole story.  Holy Virgin! thanks, a
+thousand thanks!  I shall see my father again, my father!"
+
+It was past midnight, but the schoolmates were still sitting over their
+wine in a private room in the Lion at Lier.  The Eletto had not grown
+weary of questioning, and Count Philipp willingly answered.
+
+Ulrich now knew what death the doctor had met, and that his father had
+gone to Antwerp and lived there as an armorer for twelve years.  The
+Jew's dumb wife had died of grief on the journey, but Ruth was living
+with the old man and kept house for him.  Navarrete had often heard the
+Swabian and his work praised, and wore a corselet from his workshop.
+
+The count could tell him a great deal about Ruth.  He acknowledged that
+he had not sought Adam the Swabian for weapons, but on account of his
+beautiful daughter.  The girl was slender as a fir-tree!  And her face!
+once seen could never be forgotten.  So might have looked the beautiful
+Judith, who slew Holophernes, or Queen Zenobia, or chaste Lucretia of
+Rome!  She was now past twenty and in the bloom of her beauty, but cold
+as glass; and though she liked him on account of his old friendship for
+Ulrich and the affair in the forest, he was only permitted to look at,
+not touch her.  She would rejoice when she heard that Ulrich was still
+alive, and what he had become.  And the smith, the smith!  Nay, he would
+not go home now, but back to Antwerp to be Ulrich's messenger!  But now
+he too would like to relate his own experiences.
+
+He did so, but in a rapid, superficial way, for the Eletto constantly
+reverted to old days and his father.  Every person whom they had both
+known was enquired for.
+
+Old Count Frohlinger was still alive, but suffered a great deal from
+gout and the capricious young wife he had married in his old age.
+Hangemarx had grown melancholy and, after all, ended his life by the
+rope, though by his own hand.  Dark-skinned Xaver had entered the
+priesthood and was living in Rome in high esteem, as a member of a
+Spanish order.  The abbot still presided over the monastery and had a
+great deal of time for his studies; for the school had been broken up
+and, as part of the property of the monastery had been confiscated, the
+number of monks had diminished.  The magistrate had been falsely accused
+of embezzling minors' money, remained in prison for a year and, after his
+liberation, died of a liver complaint.
+
+Morning was dawning when the friends separated.  Count Philipp undertook
+to tell Ruth that Ulrich had found his mother again.  She was to persuade
+the smith to forgive his wife, with whose praises her son's lips were
+overflowing.
+
+At his departure Philipp tried to induce the Eletto to change his course
+betimes, for he was following a dangerous path; but Ulrich laughed in his
+face, exclaiming: "You know I have found the right word, and shall use it
+to the end.  You were born to power in a small way; I have won mine
+myself, and shall not rest until I am permitted to exercise it on a great
+scale, nay, the grandest.  If aught on earth affords a taste of heavenly
+joy, it is power!"
+
+In the camp the Eletto found the troops from Aalst prepared for
+departure, and as he rode along the road saw in imagination, sometimes
+his parents, his parents in a new and happy union, sometimes Ruth in the
+full splendor of her majestic beauty.  He remembered how proudly he had
+watched his father and mother, when they went to church together on
+Sunday, how he had carried Ruth in his arms on their flight; and now he
+was to see and experience all this again.
+
+He gave his men only a short rest, for he longed to reach his mother.
+It was a glorious return home, to bring such tidings!  How beautiful and
+charming he found life; how greatly he praised his destiny!
+
+The sun was setting behind pleasant Aalst as he approached, and the sky
+looked as if it was strewn with roses.
+
+"Beautiful, beautiful!"  he murmured, pointing out to his lieutenant the
+brilliant hues in the western horizon.
+
+A messenger hastened on in advance, the thunder of artillery and fanfare
+of music greeted the victors, as they marched through the gate.  Ulrich
+sprang from his horse in front of the guildhall and was received by the
+captain, who had commanded during his absence.
+
+The Eletto hastily described the course of the brilliant, victorious
+march, and then asked what had happened.
+
+The captain lowered his eyes in embarrassment, saying, in a low tone:
+"Nothing of great importance; but day before yesterday a wicked deed was
+committed, which will vex you.  The woman you love, the camp sibyl...."
+
+"Who?  What?  What do you mean?"
+
+"She went to Zorrillo, and he--you must not be startled--he stabbed her."
+
+Ulrich staggered back, repeating, in a hollow tone "Stabbed!"  Then
+seizing the other by the shoulder, he shrieked: "Stabbed!  That means
+murdered-killed!"
+
+"He thrust his dagger into her heart, she must have died as quickly as if
+struck by lightning.  Then Zorrillo went away, God knows where.  Who
+could suspect, that the quiet man...."
+
+"You let him escape, helped the murderer get off, you dogs!" raved the
+wretched man.  "We will speak of this again.  Where is she, where is her
+body?"
+
+The captain shrugged his shoulders, saying, in a soothing tone: "Calm
+yourself, Navarrete!  We too grieve for the sibyl; many in the camp will
+miss her.  As for Zorrillo, he had the password, and could go through the
+gate at any hour.  The body is still lying in his quarters."
+
+"Indeed!"  faltered the Eletto.  Then calming himself, he said,
+mournfully: "I wish to see her."
+
+The captain walked silently by his side and opened the murderer's
+dwelling.
+
+There, on a bed of pine-shavings, in a rude coffin made of rough planks,
+lay the woman who had given him birth, deserted him, and yet who so
+tenderly loved him.  A poor soldier's wife, to whom she had been kind,
+was watching beside the corpse, at whose head a singly brand burned with
+a smoky, yellow light.  The little white dog had found its way to her,
+and was snuffing the floor, still red with its mistress's blood.
+
+Ulrich snatched the brand from the bracket, and threw the light on the
+dead woman's face.  His tear-dimmed eyes sought his mother's features,
+but only rested on them a moment--then he shuddered, turned away, and
+giving the torch to his companion, said, softly: "Cover her head."
+
+The soldier's wife spread her coarse apron over the face, which-had
+smiled so sweetly: but Ulrich threw himself on his knees beside the
+coffin, buried his face, and remained in this attitude for many minutes.
+
+At last he slowly rose, rubbed his eyes as if waking from some confused
+dream, drew himself up proudly, and scanned the place with searching
+eyes.
+
+He was the Eletto, and thus men honored the woman who was dear to him!
+
+His mother lay in a wretched pauper's coffin, a ragged camp-follower
+watched beside her--no candles burned at her head, no priest prayed for
+the salvation of her soul!
+
+Grief was raging madly in his breast, now indignation joined this gloomy
+guest; giving vent to his passionate emotion, Ulrich wildly exclaimed:
+
+"Look here, captain!  This corpse, this woman--proclaim it to every one
+--the sibyl was my mother yes, yes, my own mother!  I demand respect for
+her, the same respect that is shown myself!  Must I compel men to render
+her fitting honor?  Here, bring torches.  Prepare the catafalque in St.
+Martin's church, and place it before the altar!  Put candles around it,
+as many as can be found!  It is still early!  Lieutenant!  I am glad you
+are there!  Rouse the cathedral priests and go to the bishop.  I command
+a solemn requiem for my mother!  Everything is to be arranged precisely
+as it was at the funeral of the Duchess of Aerschot!  Let trumpets give
+the signal for assembling.  Order the bells to be rung!  In an hour all
+must be ready at St. Martin's cathedral!  Bring torches here, I say!
+Have I the right to command--yes or no?  A large oak coffin was standing
+at the joiner's close by.  Bring it here, here; I need a better death-
+couch for my mother.  You poor, dear woman, how you loved flowers, and no
+one has brought you even one!  Captain Ortis, I have issued my commands!
+Everything must be done, when I return;--Lieutenant, you have your
+orders!"
+
+He rushed from the death-chamber to the sitting-room in his own house,
+and hastily tore stalks and blossoms from the plants.  The maid-servants
+watched him timidly, and he harshly ordered them to collect what he had
+gathered and take them to the house of death.
+
+His orders were obeyed, and when he next appeared at Zorrillo's quarters,
+the soldiers, who had assembled there in throngs, parted to make way for
+him.
+
+He beckoned to them, and while he went from one to another, saying: "The
+sibyl was my mother--Zorrillo has murdered my mother," the coffin was
+borne into the house.
+
+In the vestibule, he leaned his head against the wall, moaning and
+sighing, until Florette was laid in her last bed, and a soldier put his
+hand on his shoulder.  Then Ulrich strewed flowers over the corpse, and
+the joiner came to nail up the coffin.  The blows of the hammer actually
+hurt him, it seemed as if each one fell upon his own heart.
+
+The funeral procession passed through the ranks of soldiers, who filled
+the street.  Several officers came to meet it, and Captain Ortis,
+approaching close to the Eletto, said: "The bishop refuses the catafalque
+and the solemn requiem you requested.  Your mother died in sin, without
+the sacrament.  He will grant as many masses for the repose of her soul
+as you desire, but such high honors...."
+
+"He refuses them to us?"
+
+"Not to us, to the sibyl."
+
+"She was my mother, your Eletto's mother.  To the cathedral, forward!"
+
+"It is closed, and will remain so to-day, for the bishop...."
+
+"Then burst the doors!  We'll show them who has the power here."
+
+"Are you out of your senses?  The Holy Church!"
+
+"Forward, I say!  Let him who is no cowardly wight, follow me!"
+
+Ulrich drew the commander's baton from his belt and rushed forward,
+as if he were leading a storming-party; but Ortis cried: "We will not
+fight against St. Martin!" and a murmur of applause greeted him.
+
+Ulrich checked his pace, and gnashing his teeth, exclaimed: "Will not?
+Will not?"  Then gazing around the circle of comrades, who surrounded him
+on all sides, he asked: "Has no one courage to help me to my rights?
+Ortis, de Vego, Diego, will you follow me, yes or no?"
+
+"No, not against the Church!"
+
+"Then I command you," shouted the Eletto, furiously.  "Obey, Lieutenant
+de Vega, forward with your company, and burst the cathedral doors."
+
+But no one obeyed, and Ortis ordered: "Back, every man of you!  Saint
+Martin is my patron saint; let all who value their souls refuse to attack
+the church and defend it with me."
+
+The blood rushed to Ulrich's brain, and incapable of longer self-control,
+he threw his baton into the ranks of the mutineers, shrieking: "I hurl it
+at your feet; whoever picks it up can keep it!"
+
+The  soldiers hesitated;  but  Ortis  repeated  his "Back!"  Other
+officers gave the same order, and their men obeyed.  The street grew
+empty, and the Eletto's mother was only followed by a few of her son's
+friends; no priest led the procession.  In the cemetery Ulrich threw
+three handfuls of earth into the open grave, then with drooping head
+returned home.
+
+How dreary, how desolate the bright, flower-decked room seemed now, for
+the first time the Eletto felt really deserted.  No tears came to relieve
+his grief, for the insult offered him that day aroused his wrath, and he
+cherished it as if it were a consolation.
+
+He had thrown power aside with the staff of command.  Power!  It too was
+potter's trash, which a stone might shatter, a flower in full bloom,
+whose leaves drop apart if touched by the finger!  It was no noble metal,
+only yellow mica!
+
+The knocker on the door never stopped rapping.  One officer after another
+came to soothe him, but he would not even admit his lieutenant.
+
+He rejoiced over his hasty deed.  Fortune, he thought, cannot be escaped,
+art cannot be thrown aside; fame may be trampled under foot, yet still
+pursue us.
+
+Power has this advantage over all three, it can be flung off like a worn-
+out doublet.  Let it fly!  Had he owed it the happiness of the last few
+weeks?  No, no!  He would have been happy with his mother in a poor,
+plain house, without the office of Eletto, without flowers, horses or
+servants.  It was to her, not to power, that he was indebted for every
+blissful hour, and now that she had gone, how desolate was the void in
+his heart!
+
+Suddenly the recollection of his father and Ruth illumined his misery
+like a sunbeam.  The game of Eletto was now over, he would go to Antwerp
+the next day.
+
+Why had fate snatched his mother from him just now, why did it deny him
+the happiness of seeing his parents united?  His father--she had sorely
+wronged him, but for what will not death atone?  He must take him some
+remembrance of her, and went to her room to look through her chest.  But
+it no longer stood in the old place--the owner of the house, a rich
+matron, who had been compelled to occupy an attic-room, while strangers
+were quartered in her residence, had taken charge of the pale orphan and
+the boxes after Florette's death.
+
+The good Netherland dame provided for the adopted child and the property
+of her enemy, the man whose soldiers had pillaged her brothers and
+cousins.  The death of the woman below had moved her deeply, for the
+wonderful charm of Florette's manner had won her also.
+
+Towards midnight Ulrich took the lamp and went upstairs.  He had long
+since forgotten to spare others, by denying himself a wish.
+
+The knocking at the door and the passing to and fro in the entry had kept
+Frau Geel awake.  When she heard the Eletto's heavy step, she sprang up
+from her spinning-wheel in alarm, and the maid-servant, half roused from
+sleep, threw herself on her knees.
+
+"Frau Geel!"  called a voice outside.
+
+She recognized Navarrete's tones, opened the door, and asked what he
+desired.
+
+"It was his mother," thought the old lady as he threw clothes, linen and
+many a trifle on the floor.  "It was his mother.  Perhaps he wants her
+rosary or prayer book.  He is her son!  They looked like a happy couple
+when they were together.  A wild soldier, but he isn't a wicked man yet."
+
+While he searched she held the light for him, shaking her head over the
+disorder among the articles where he rummaged.
+
+Ulrich had now reached the bottom of the chest.  Here he found a valuable
+necklace, booty which Zorrillo had given his companion for use in case of
+need.  This should be Ruth's.  Close beside it lay a small package, tied
+with rose-pink ribbon, containing a tiny infant's shirt, a gay doll, and
+a slender gold circlet; her wedding-ring!  The date showed that it had
+been given to her by his father, and the shirt and doll were mementos of
+him, her darling--of himself.
+
+He gazed at them, changing them from one hand to the other, till suddenly
+his heart overflowed, and without heeding Frau Geel, who was watching
+him, he wept softly, exclaiming: "Mother, dear mother!"
+
+A light hand touched his shoulder, and a woman's kind voice said: "Poor
+fellow, poor fellow!  Yes, she was a dear little thing, and a mother, a
+mother--that is enough!"
+
+The Eletto nodded assent with tearful eyes, and when she again gently
+repeated in a tone of sincere sympathy, her "poor fellow!"  it sounded
+sweeter, than the loudest homage that had ever been offered to his fame
+and power.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+The next morning while Ulrich was packing his luggage, assisted by his
+servant, the sound of drums and fifes, bursts of military music and loud
+cheers were heard in the street, and going to the window, he saw the
+whole body of mutineers drawn up in the best order.
+
+The companies stood in close ranks before his house, impetuous shouts and
+bursts of music made the windows rattle, and now the officers pressed
+into his room, holding out their swords, vowing fealty unto death, and
+entreating him to remain their commander.
+
+He now perceived, that power cannot be thrown aside like a worthless
+thing.  His tortured heart was stirred with deep emotion, and the
+drooping wings of ambition unfolded with fresh energy.  He reproached,
+raged, but yielded; and when Ortis on his knees, offered him the
+commander's baton, he accepted it.
+
+Ulrich was again Eletto, but this need not prevent his seeing his father
+and Ruth once more, so he declared that he would retain his office, but
+should be obliged to ride to Antwerp that day, secretly inform the
+officers of the conspiracy against the city, and the necessity of
+negotiating with the commandant, that their share of the rich prize might
+not be lost.
+
+What many had suspected and hoped was now to become reality.  Their
+Eletto was no idle man!  When Navarrete appeared at noon in front of the
+troops with his own work, the standard, in his hand, he was received with
+shouts of joy, and no one murmured, though many recognized in the
+Madonna's countenance the features of the murdered sibyl.
+
+Two days later Ulrich, full of eager expectation, rode into Antwerp,
+carrying in his portmanteau the mementos he had taken from his mother's
+chest, while in imagination he beheld his father's face, the smithy at
+Richtberg, the green forest, the mountains of his home, the Costas'
+house, and his little playfellow.  Would he really be permitted to lean
+on his father's broad breast once more?
+
+And Ruth, Ruth!  Did she still care for him, had Philipp described her
+correctly?
+
+He went to the count without delay, and found him at home.  Philipp
+received him cordially, yet with evident timidity and embarrassment.
+Ulrich too was grave, for he had to inform his companion of his mother's
+death.
+
+"So that is settled," said the count.  "Your father is a gnarled old
+tree, a real obstinate Swabian.  It's not his way to forgive and forget."
+
+"And did he know that my mother was so near to him, that she was in
+Aalst."
+
+"All, all!"
+
+"He will forgive the dead.  Surely, surely he will, if I beseech him,
+when we are united, if I tell him...."
+
+"Poor fellow!  You think all this is so easy.--It is long since I have
+had so hard a task, yet I must speak plainly.  He will have nothing to
+do with you, either."
+
+"Nothing to do with me?"  cried Ulrich.
+
+"Is he out of his senses?  What sin have I committed, what does he...."
+
+"He knows that you are Navarrete, the Eletto of Herenthals, the conqueror
+of Aalst, and therefore...."
+
+"Therefore?"
+
+"Why of course.  You see, Ulrich, when a man becomes famous like you, he
+is known for a long distance, everything he does makes a great hue and
+cry, and echo repeats it in every alley."
+
+"To my honor before God and man."
+
+"Before God?  Perhaps so; certainly before the Spaniards.  As for me
+--I was with the squadron myself, I call you a brave soldier; but--no
+offence--you have behaved ill in this country.  The Netherlanders are
+human beings too."
+
+"They are rebels, recreant heretics."
+
+"Take care, or you will revile your own father.  His faith has been
+shaken.  A preacher, whom he met on his flight here, in some tavern, led
+him astray by inducing him to read the bible.  Many things the Church
+condemns are sacred to him.  He thinks the Netherlanders a free, noble
+nation.  Your King Philip he considers a tyrant, oppressor, and ruthless
+destroyer.  You who have served him and Alba--are in his eyes; but I will
+not wound you...."
+
+"What are we, I will hear."
+
+"No, no, it would do no good.  In short, to Adam the Spanish army is a
+bloody pest, nothing more."
+
+"There never were braver soldiers."
+
+"Very true; but every defeat, all the blood you have shed, has angered
+him and this nation, and wrath, which daily receives fresh food and to
+which men become accustomed, at last turns to hate.  All great crimes
+committed in this war are associated with Alba's name, many smaller ones
+with yours, and so your father...."
+
+"Then we will teach him a better opinion!  I return to him an honest
+soldier, the commander of thousands of men!  To see him once more, only
+to see him!  A son remains a son!  I learned that from my mother.  We
+were rivals and enemies, when I met her!  And then, then--alas, that is
+all over!  Now I wish to find in my father what I have lost; will you go
+to the smithy with me?"
+
+"No, Ulrich, no.  I have said everything to your father that can be urged
+in your defence, but he is so devoured with rage...."
+
+"Santiago!" exclaimed the  Eletto, bursting into sudden fury, "I need no
+advocate!  If the old man knows what share I have taken in this war, so
+much the better.  I'll fill up the gaps myself.  I have been  wherever
+the  fight  raged  hottest!  'Sdeath! that is my pride!  I am no longer a
+boy and have fought my way through life without father or mother.  What I
+am, I have made myself, and can defend with honor, even to the old man.
+He carries heavy guns, I know; but I am not accustomed to shoot with
+feather balls!"
+
+"Ulrich,  Ulrich!  He is an old man, and your father!"
+
+"I will remember that, as soon as he calls me his son."
+
+One of the count's servants showed Ulrich the way to the smith's house.
+
+Adam had entirely given up the business of horseshoeing, for nothing was
+to be seen in the ground floor of the high, narrow house, except the
+large door, and a window on each side.  Behind the closed one at the
+right were several pieces of armor, beautifully embossed, and some
+artistically-wrought iron articles.  The left-hand one was partly open,
+granting entrance to the autumn sunshine.  Ulrich dismissed the servant,
+took the mementos of his mother in his hand, and listened to the hammer-
+strokes, that echoed from within.
+
+The familiar sound recalled pleasant memories of his childhood and cooled
+his hot blood.  Count Philipp was right.  His father was an old man, and
+entitled to demand respect from his son.  He must endure from him what he
+would tolerate from no one else.  Nay, he again felt that it was a great
+happiness to be near the beloved one, from whom he had so long been
+parted; whatever separated him from his old father, must surely vanish
+into nothing, as soon as they looked into each other's eyes.
+
+What a master in his trade, his father still was!  No one else would have
+found it so easy to forge the steel coat of mail with the Medusa head in
+the centre.  He was not working alone here as he did at Richtberg; for
+Ulrich heard more than one hammer striking iron in the workshop.
+
+Before touching the knocker, he looked into the open window.
+
+A woman's tall figure was standing at the desk.  Her back was turned,
+and he saw only the round outline of the head, the long black braids,
+the plain dress, bordered with velvet, and the lace in the neck. An
+elderly man in the costume of a merchant was just holding out his hand
+in farewell, and he heard him say: "You've bought too cheap again, far
+too cheap, Jungfer Ruth."
+
+"Just a fair price," she answered quietly.  "You will have a good
+profit, and we can afford to pay it.  I shall expect the iron day after
+to-morrow."
+
+"It will be delivered before noon.  Master Adam has a treasure in you,
+dear Jungfer.  If my son were alive, I know where he would seek a wife.
+Wilhelm Ykens has told me of his troubles; he is a skilful goldsmith.
+Why do you give the poor fellow no hope?  Consider!  You are past twenty,
+and every year it grows harder to say yes to a lover."
+
+"Nothing suits me better, than to stay with father," she answered gaily.
+"He can't do without me, you know, nor I without him.  I have no dislike
+to Wilhelm, but it seems very easy to live without him.  Farewell, Father
+Keulitz."
+
+Ulrich withdrew from the window, until the merchant had vanished down a
+side street; then he again glanced into the narrow room.  Ruth was now
+seated at the desk, but instead of looking over the open account book,
+her eyes were gazing dreamily into vacancy, and the Eletto now saw her
+beautiful, calm, noble face.  He did not disturb her, for it seemed as if
+he could never weary of comparing her features with the fadeless image
+his memory had treasured during all the vicissitudes of life.
+
+Never, not even in Italy, had he beheld a nobler countenance.  Philipp
+was right.  There was something royal in her bearing.  This was the wife
+of his dreams, the proud woman, with whom the Eletto desired to share
+power and grandeur.  And he had already held her once in his arms!  It
+seemed as if it were only yesterday.  His heart throbbed higher and
+higher.  As she now rose and thoughtfully approached the window, he could
+no longer contain himself, and exclaimed in a low tone: "Ruth, Ruth!  Do
+you know me, girl?  It is I--Ulrich!"
+
+She shrank back, putting out he1 hands with a repellent gesture; but only
+for a moment.  Then, struggling to maintain her composure, she joyously
+uttered his name, and as he rushed into the room, cried "Ulrich!"
+"Ulrich!" and no longer able to control her feelings, suffered him to
+clasp her to his heart.
+
+She had daily expected him with ardent longing, yet secret dread: for
+he was the fierce Eletto, the commander of the insurgents, the bloody foe
+of the brave nation she loved.  But at sight of his face all, all was
+forgotten, and she felt nothing but the bliss of being reunited to him
+whom she had never, never forgotten, the joy of seeing, feeling that he
+loved her.
+
+His heart too was overflowing with passionate delight.  Faltering tender
+words, he drew her head to his breast, then raised it to press his mouth
+to her pure lips.  But her intoxication of joy passed away--and before he
+could prevent it, she had escaped from his arms, saying sternly: "Not
+that, not that....  Many a crime lies between us and you."
+
+"No, no!" he eagerly exclaimed.  "Are you not near me?  Your heart and
+mine have belonged to each other since that day in the snow.  If my
+father is angry because I serve other masters than his, you, yes you,
+must reconcile us again.  I could stay in Aalst no longer."
+
+"With the mutineers?" she asked sadly.  "Ulrich, Ulrich, that you should
+return to us thus!"
+
+He again seized her hand, and when she tried to withdraw it, only smiled,
+saying with the confidence of a man, who is sure of his cause:
+
+"Cast aside this foolish reserve.  To-morrow you will freely give me, not
+only one hand, but both.  I am not so bad as you think.  The fortune of
+war flung me under the Spanish flag, and 'whose bread I eat, his song I
+sing,' says the soldier.  What would you have?  I served with honor, and
+have done some doughty deeds; let that content you."
+
+This angered Ruth, who resolutely exclaimed:
+
+"No, a thousand times no!  You are the Eletto of Aalst, the pillager of
+cities, and this cannot be swept aside as easily as the dust from the
+floor.  I....  I am only a feeble girl;--but father, he will never give
+his hand to the blood-stained man in Spanish garb!  I know him, I know
+it."
+
+Ulrich's breath came quicker; but he repressed the angry emotion and
+replied, first reproachfully, then beseechingly:
+
+"You are the old man's echo.  What does he know of military honor and
+warlike fame; but you, Ruth, must understand me.  Do you still remember
+our sport with the "word," the great word that accomplished everything?
+I have found it; and you shall enjoy with me what it procures.  First
+help me appease my father; I shall succeed, if you aid me.  It will
+doubtless be a hard task.  He could not bring himself to forgive his poor
+wife--Count Philipp says so;--but now!  You see, Ruth, my mother died a
+few days ago; she was a dear, loving woman and might have deserved a
+better fate.
+
+"I am alone again now, and long for love--so ardently, so sincerely, more
+than I can tell you.  Where shall I find it, if not with you and my own
+father?  You have always cared for me; you betray it, and after all you
+know I am not a bad man, do you not?  Be content with my love and take me
+to my father, yourself.  Help me persuade him to listen to me.  I have
+something here which you can give him from me; you will see that it will
+soften his heart!"
+
+"Then give it to me," replied Ruth, "but whatever it may be--believe me,
+Ulrich, so long as you command the Spanish mutineers, he will remain
+hard, hard as his own iron!"
+
+"Spaniards!  Mutineers!  Nonsense!  Whoever wishes to love, can love; the
+rest may be settled afterwards.  You don't know how high my heart throbs,
+now that I am near you, now that I see and hear you.  You are my good
+angel and must remain so, now look here.  This is my mother's legacy.
+This little shirt I once wore, when I was a tiny thing, the gay doll was
+my plaything, and this gold hoop is the wedding-ring my father gave his
+bride at the altar--she kept all these things to the last, and carried
+them like holy relics from land to land, from camp to camp.  Will you
+take these mementos to him?"
+
+She nodded silently.
+
+"Now comes the best thing.  Have you ever seen more beautiful
+workmanship?  You must wear this necklace, Ruth, as my first gift."
+
+He held up the costly ornament, but she shrank back, asking bitterly
+
+"Captured booty?"
+
+"In honorable war," he answered, proudly, approaching to fasten the
+jewels round her neck with his own hands; but she pushed him back,
+snatched the ornament, and hurled it on the floor, exclaiming angrily:
+
+"I loathe the stolen thing.  Pick it up.  It may suit the camp-
+followers."
+
+This destroyed his self-control, and seizing both her arms in an iron
+grasp, he muttered through his clenched teeth:
+
+"That is an insult to my mother; take it back."  But Ruth heard and saw
+nothing; full of indignation she only felt that violence was being done
+her, and vainly struggled against the irresistible strength, which held
+her fast.
+
+Meantime the door had opened wide, but neither noticed it until a man's
+deep voice loudly and wrathfully exclaimed:
+
+"Back, you scoundrel!  Come here, Ruth.  This is the way the assassin
+greets his family; begone, begone!  you disgrace of my house!"
+
+Adam had uttered the words, and now drew the hammer from the belt of his
+leather apron.
+
+Ulrich gazed mutely into his face.  There stood his father, strong,
+gigantic, as he had looked thirteen years before.  His head was a little
+bowed, his beard longer and whiter, his eyebrows were more bushy and his
+expression had grown more gloomy; otherwise he was wholly unchanged in
+every feature.
+
+The son's eyes rested on the smith as if spellbound.  It seemed as if
+some malicious fate had drawn him into a snare.
+
+He could say nothing except, "father, father," and the smith found no
+other answer than the harsh "begone!"
+
+Ruth approached the armorer, clung to his side, and pleaded:
+
+"Hear him, don't send him away so; he is your child, and if anger just
+now overpowered him...."
+
+"Spanish custom--to abuse women!"  cried Adam.  "I have no son Navarrete,
+or whatever the murderous monster calls himself.  I am a burgher, and
+have no son, who struts about in the stolen clothes of noblemen; as to
+this man and his assassins, I hate them, hate them all.  Your foot
+defiles my house.  Out with you, knave, or I will use my hammer."
+
+Ulrich again exclaimed, "father, father!"  Then, regaining his self-
+control by a violent effort, he gasped:
+
+"Father, I came to you in good will, in love.  I am an honest soldier and
+if any one but you--'Sdeath--if any other had dared to offer me this...."
+
+"Murder the dog, you would have said," interrupted the smith.  "We know
+the Spanish blessing: a sandre, a carne!--[Blood, murder.]--Thanks for
+your forbearance.  There is the door.  Another word, and I can restrain
+myself no longer."
+
+Ruth had clung firmly to the smith, and motioned Ulrich to go.  The
+Eletto groaned aloud, struck his forehead with his clenched fist, and
+rushed into the open air.
+
+As soon as Adam was alone with Ruth she caught his hand, exclaiming
+beseechingly:
+
+"Father, father, he is your own son!  Love your enemies, the Saviour
+commanded; and you...."
+
+"And I hate him," said the smith, curtly and resolutely.  "Did he hurt
+you?"
+
+"Your hate hurts me ten times as much!  You judge without examining; yes,
+father, you do!  When he assaulted me, he was in the right.  He thought I
+had insulted his mother."
+
+Adam shrugged his shoulders, and she continued "The poor woman is dead.
+Ulrich brought you yonder ring; she never parted with it."
+
+The armorer started, seized the golden hoop, looked for the date inside,
+and when he had found it, clasped the ring in his hands and pressed them
+silently to his temples.  He stood in this attitude a short time, then
+let his arms fall, and said softly:
+
+"The dead must be forgiven...."
+
+"And the living, father?  You have punished him terribly, and he is not
+a wicked man, no, indeed he is not!  If he comes back again, father?"
+
+"My apprentices shall show the Spanish mutineer the door," cried the old
+man in a harsh, stern tone; "to the burgher's repentant son my house will
+be always open."
+
+Meantime the Eletto wandered from one street to another.  He felt
+bewildered, disgraced.
+
+It was not grief--no quiet heartache that disturbed--but a confused
+blending of wrath and sorrow.  He did not wish to appear before the
+friend of his youth, and even avoided Hans Eitelfritz, who came towards
+him.  He was blind to the gay, joyous bustle of the capital; life seemed
+grey and hollow.  His intention of communicating with the commandant of
+the citadel remained unexecuted; for he thought of nothing but his
+father's anger, of Ruth, his own shame and misery.
+
+He could not leave so.
+
+His father must, yes, he must hear him, and when it grew dusk, he again
+sought the house to which he belonged, and from which he had been so
+cruelly expelled.
+
+The door was locked.  In reply to his knock, a man's unfamiliar voice
+asked who he was, and what he wanted.
+
+He asked to speak with Adam, and called himself Ulrich.
+
+After waiting a long time he heard a door torn open, and the smith
+angrily exclaim:
+
+"To your spinning-wheel!  Whoever clings to him so long as he wears the
+Spanish dress, means evil to him as well as to me."
+
+"But hear him!  You must hear him, father!"  cried Ruth.
+
+The door closed, heavy steps approached the door of the house; it opened,
+and again Adam confronted his son.
+
+"What do you want?"  he asked harshly.
+
+"To speak to you, to tell you that you did wrong to insult me unheard."
+
+"Are you still the Eletto?  Answer!"
+
+"I am!"
+
+"And intend to remain so?"
+
+"Que como--puede ser--" faltered Ulrich, who confused by the question,
+had strayed into the language in which he had been long accustomed to
+think.  But scarcely had the smith distinguished the foreign words, when
+fresh anger seized him.
+
+"Then go to perdition with your Spaniards!"  was the furious answer.
+
+The door slammed so that the house shook, and by degrees the smith's
+heavy tread died away in the vestibule.
+
+"All over, all over!"  murmured the rejected son.  Then calming himself,
+he clenched his fist and muttered through his set teeth: "There shall be
+no lack of ruin; whoever it befalls, can bear it."
+
+While walking through the streets and across the squares, he devised plan
+after plan, imagining what must come.  Sword in hand he would burst the
+old man's door, and the only booty he asked for himself should be Ruth,
+for whom he longed, who in spite of everything loved him, who had
+belonged to him from her childhood.
+
+The next morning he negotiated cleverly and boldly with the commandant
+of the Spanish forces in the citadel.  The fate of the city was sealed!
+and when he again crossed the great square and saw the city-hall with its
+proud, gable-crowned central building, and the shops in the lower floor
+crammed with wares, he laughed savagely.
+
+Hans Eitelfritz had seen him in the distance, and shouted:
+
+"A pretty little house, three stories high.  And how the broad windows,
+between the pillars in the side wings, glitter!"
+
+Then he lowered his voice, for the square was swarming with men, carts
+and horses, and continued:
+
+"Look closer and choose your quarters.  Come with me!  I'll show you
+where the best things we need can be found.  Haven't we bled often enough
+for the pepper-sacks?  Now it will be our turn to fleece them.  The
+castles here, with the gingerbread work on the gables, are the
+guildhalls.  There is gold enough in each one, to make the company rich.
+Now this way!  Directly behind the city-hall lies the Zucker Canal.
+There live stiff-necked people, who dine off of silver every day.  Notice
+the street!"
+
+Then he led him back to the square, and continued "The streets here all
+lead to the quay.  Do you know it?  Have you seen the warehouses?  Filled
+to the very roof!  The malmsey, dry canary and Indian allspice, might
+transform the Scheldt and Baltic Sea into a huge vat of hippocras."
+
+Ulrich followed his guide from street to street.  Wherever he looked, he
+saw vast wealth in barns and magazines; in houses, palaces and churches.
+
+Hans Eitelfritz stopped before a jeweller's shop, saying:
+
+"Look here!  I particularly admire these things, these toys: the little
+dog, the sled, the lady with the hoopskirt, all these things are pure
+silver.  When the pillage begins, I shall grasp these and take them to my
+sister's little children in Colln; they will be delighted, and if it
+should ever be necessary, their mother can sell them."
+
+What a throng crowded the most aristocratic streets!  English, Spanish,
+Italian and Hanseatic merchants tried to outdo the Netherland traders in
+magnificent clothes and golden ornaments.  Ulrich saw them all assembled
+in the Gothic exchange on the Mere, the handsomest square in the city.
+There they stood in the vast open hall, on the checkered marble floor,
+not by hundreds, but by thousands, dealing in goods which came from all
+quarters of the globe--from the most distant lands.  Their offers and
+bids mingled in a noise audible at a long distance, which was borne
+across the square like the echo of ocean surges.
+
+Sums were discussed, which even the winged imagination of the lansquenet
+could scarcely grasp.  This city was a remarkable treasure, a thousand-
+fold richer booty than had been garnered from the Ottoman treasure-ship on
+the sea at Lepanto.
+
+Here was the fortune the Eletto needed, to build the palace in which he
+intended to place Ruth.  To whom else would fall the lion's share of the
+enormous prize!
+
+His future happiness was to arise from the destruction of this proud
+city, stifling in its gold.
+
+These were ambitious brilliant plans, but he devised them with gloomy
+eyes, in a darkened mind.  He intended to win by force what was denied
+him, so long as the power belonged to him.
+
+There could be no lack of flames and carnage; but that was part of his
+trade, as shavings belong to flames, hammer-strokes to smiths.
+
+Count Philipp had no suspicion of the assault, was not permitted to
+suspect anything.  He attributed Ulrich's agitated manner to the
+rejection he had encountered in his father's house, and when he took
+leave of him on his departure to Swabia, talked kindly with his former
+schoolmate and advised him to leave the Spanish flag and try once more
+to be reconciled to the old man.
+
+Before the Eletto quitted the city, he gave Hans Eitelfritz, whose
+regiment had secretly joined the mutiny, letters of safeguard for his
+family and the artist, Moor.
+
+He had not forgotten the latter, but well-founded timidity withheld him
+from appearing before the honored man, while cherishing the gloomy
+thoughts that now filled his soul.
+
+In Aalst the mutineers received him with eager joy, harsh and repellent
+as he appeared, they cheerfully obeyed him; for he could hold out to them
+a prospect, which lured a bright smile to the bearded lips of the
+grimmest warrior.
+
+If power was the word, he scarcely understood how to use it aright, for
+wholly absorbed in himself, he led a joyless life of dissatisfied longing
+and gloomy reverie.
+
+It seemed to him as if he had lost one half of himself, and needed Ruth
+to become the whole man.  Hours grew to days, days to weeks, and not
+until Roda's messenger appeared from the citadel in Antwerp to summon him
+to action, did he revive and regain his old vivacity.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+On the twentieth of October Mastricht fell into the Spaniards' hands,
+and was cruelly pillaged.  The garrison of Antwerp rose and began to
+make common cause with the friends of the mutineers in the citadel.
+
+Foreign merchants fled from the imperilled city.  Governor Champagny saw
+his own person and the cause of order seriously threatened by the despots
+in the fortress, which dominated the town.  A Netherland army, composed
+principally of Walloons, under the command of the incapable Marquis
+Havre, the reckless de Heze and other nobles appeared before the capital,
+to prevent the worst.
+
+Champagny feared that the German regiments would feel insulted and scent
+treason, if he admitted the government troops--but the majority of the
+lansquenets were already in league with the insurgents, the danger hourly
+increased, everywhere loyalty wavered, the citizens urgently pressed the
+matter, and the gates were opened to the Netherlanders.
+
+Count Oberstein, the German commander of the lansquenets, who while
+intoxicated had pledged himself to make common cause with the mutineers
+in the citadel, remembered his duty and remained faithful to the end.
+The regiment in which Hans Eitelfritz served, and the other companies of
+lansquenets, had succumbed to the temptation, and only waited the signal
+for revolt.  The inhabitants felt just like a man, who keeps powder and
+firebrands in the cellar, or a traveller, who recognizes robbers and
+murderers in his own escort.
+
+Champagny called upon the citizens to help themselves, and used their
+labor in throwing up a wall of defence in the open part of the city,
+which was most dangerously threatened by the citadel.  Among the men and
+women who voluntarily flocked to the work by thousands, were Adam, the
+smith, his apprentices, and Ruth.  The former, with his journeymen,
+wielded the spade under the direction of a skilful engineer, the girl,
+with other women, braided gabions from willow-rods.
+
+She had lived through sorrowful days.  Self-reproach, for having by her
+hasty fit of temper caused the father's outburst of anger to his son,
+constantly tortured her.
+
+She had learned to hate the Spaniards as bitterly as Adam; she knew that
+Ulrich was following a wicked, criminal course, yet she loved him, his
+image had been treasured from childhood, unassailed and unsullied, in the
+most sacred depths of her heart.  He was all in all to her, the one
+person destined for her, the man to whom she belonged as the eye does to
+the face, the heart to the breast.
+
+She believed in his love, and when she strove to condemn and forget him,
+it seemed as if she were alienating, rejecting the best part of-herself.
+
+A thousand voices told her that she lived in his soul, as much as he did
+in hers, that his existence without her must be barren and imperfect.
+She did not ask when and how, she only prayed that she might become his,
+expecting it as confidently as light in the morning, spring after winter.
+Nothing appeared so irrefutable as this faith; it was the belief of her
+loving soul.  Then, when the inevitable had happened they would be one in
+their aspirations for virtue, and the son could no longer close his heart
+against the father, nor the father shut his against the son.
+
+The child's vivid imagination was still alive in the maiden.  Every
+leisure hour she had thought of her lost playfellow, every day she had
+talked to his father about him, asking whether he would rather see him
+return as a famous artist, a skilful smith, or commander of a splendid
+ship.
+
+Handsome, strong, superior to other men, he had always appeared.  Now she
+found him following evil courses, on the path to ruin; yet even here he
+was peerless among his comrades; whatever stain rested upon him, he
+certainly was not base and mean.
+
+As a child, she always had transformed him into a splendid fairy-prince,
+but she now divested him of all magnificence, seeing him attired in plain
+burgher dress, appear humbly before his father and stand beside him at
+the forge.  She dreamed that she was by his side, and before her stood
+the table she covered with food for him, and the water she gave him after
+his work.  She heard the house shake under the mighty blows of his
+hammer, and in imagination beheld him lay his curly head in her lap,
+and say he had found love and peace with her.
+
+The cannonade from the citadel stopped the citizens' work.  Open
+hostilities had begun.
+
+On the morning of November 4th, under the cover of a thick fog, the
+treacherous Spaniards, commanded by Romero, Vargas and Valdez entered the
+fortress.  The citizens, among them Adam, learned this fact with rage and
+terror, but the mutineers of Aalst had not yet collie.
+
+"He is keeping them back," Ruth had said the day before.  "Antwerp, our
+home, is sacred to him!"
+
+The cannon roared, culverins crashed, muskets and arquebuses rattled; the
+boding notes of the alarm-bells and the fierce shouts of soldiers and
+citizens hurrying to battle mingled with the deafening thunder of the
+artillery.
+
+Every hand seized a weapon, every shop was closed; hearts stood still
+with fear, or throbbed wildly with rage and emotion.  Ruth remained calm.
+She detained the smith in the house, repeating her former words:  "The
+men from Aalst are not coming; he is keeping diem back."  Just at that
+moment the young apprentice, whose parents lived on the Scheldt, rushed
+with dishevelled hair into the workshop, gasping:
+
+"The men from Aalst  are here.  They crossed in peatboats and a galley.
+They wear green twigs in their helmets, and the Eletto is marching in the
+van, bearing the standard.  I saw them; terrible--horrible--sheathed in
+iron from top to toe."
+
+He said no more, for Adam, with a savage imprecation, interrupted him,
+seized his huge hammer, and rushed out of the house.
+
+Ruth staggered back into the workshop.
+
+Adam hurried straight to the rampart.  Here stood six thousand Walloons,
+to defend the half-finished wall, and behind them large bodies of armed
+citizens.
+
+"The men from Aalst have come!" echoed from lip to lip.
+
+Curses, wails of grief, yells of savage fury, blended with the thunder of
+the artillery and the ringing of the alarm bells.
+
+A fugitive now dashed from the counterscarp towards the Walloons,
+shouting:
+
+"They are here, they are here!  The blood-hound, Navarrete, is leading
+them.  They will neither eat nor drink, they say, till they dine in
+Paradise or Antwerp.  Hark, hark!  there they are!"
+
+And they were there, coming nearer and nearer; foremost of all marched
+the Eletto, holding the standard in his upraised hand.
+
+Behind him, from a thousand bearded lips, echoed furious, greedy,
+terrible cries; "Santiago, Espana, a sangre, a carne, a fuego, a saco!"
+--[St. Jago; Spain, blood, murder, fire, pillage]--but Navarrete was
+silent, striding onward, erect and haughty, as if he were proof against
+the bullets, that whistled around him on all sides.  Consciousness of
+power and the fierce joy of battle sparkled in his eyes.  Woe betide him,
+who received a blow from the two-handed sword the Eletto still held over
+his shoulder, now with his left hand.
+
+Adam stood with upraised hammer beside the front ranks of the Walloons!
+his eyes rested as if spellbound on his approaching son and the standard
+in his hand.  The face of the guilty woman, who had defrauded him of the
+happiness of his life, gazed at him from the banner.  He knew not whether
+he was awake, or the sport of some bewildering dream.
+
+Now, now his glance met the Eletto's, and unable to restrain himself
+longer, he raised his hammer and tried to rush forward, but the Walloons
+forced him back.
+
+Yes, yes, he hated his own child, and trembling with rage, burning to
+rush upon him, he saw the Eletto spring on the lowest projection of the
+wall, to climb up.  For a short time he was concealed from his eyes, then
+he saw the top of the standard, then the banner itself, and now his son
+stood on the highest part of the rampart, shouting: "Espana, Espana!"
+
+At this moment, with a deafening din, a hundred arquebuses were
+discharged close beside the smith, a dense cloud of smoke darkened the
+air, and when the wind dispersed it, Adam no longer beheld the standard.
+It lay on the ground; beside it the Eletto, with his face turned upward,
+mute and motionless.
+
+The father groaned aloud and closed his eyes; when he opened them,
+hundreds of iron-mailed mutineers had scaled the rampart.  Beneath their
+feet lay his bleeding child.
+
+Corpse after corpse sank on the stone wall beside the fallen man, but the
+iron wedge of the Spaniards pressed farther and farther forward.
+
+"Espana, a sangre, a carne!"
+
+Now they had reached the Walloons, steel clashed against steel, but only
+for a moment, then the defenders of the city wavered, the furious wedge
+entered their ranks, they parted, yielded, and with loud shrieks took to
+flight.  The Spanish swords raged among them, and overpowered by the
+general terror, the officers followed the example of the soldiers, the
+flying army, like a resistless torrent, carrying everything with it, even
+the smith.
+
+An unparalleled massacre began.  Adam seeing a frantic horde rush into
+the houses, remembered Ruth, and half mad with terror hastened back to
+the smithy, where he told those left behind what he had witnessed.  Then,
+arming himself and his journeymen with weapons forged by his own hand, he
+hurried out with them to renew the fight.
+
+Hours elapsed; the noise, the firing, the ringing of the alarm bells
+still continued; smoke and the smell of fire penetrated through the doors
+and windows.
+
+Evening came, and the richest, most flourishing commercial capital in the
+world was here a heap of ashes, there a ruin, everywhere a plundered
+treasury.
+
+Once the occupants of the smith's shop heard a band of murderers raging
+and shouting outside of the smithy; but they passed by, and all day long
+no others entered the quiet street, which was inhabited only by workers
+in metal.
+
+Ruth and old Rahel had remained behind, under the protection of the brave
+foreman.  Adam had told them to fly to the cellar, if any uproar arose
+outside the door.  Ruth wore a dagger, determined in the worst extremity
+to turn it against her own breast.  What did she care for life, since
+Ulrich had perished!
+
+Old Rahel, an aged dame of eighty, paced restlessly, with bowed figure,
+through the large room, saying compassionately, whenever her eyes met the
+girl's: "Ulrich, our Ulrich !"  then, straightening herself and looking
+upward.  She no longer knew what had happened a few hours before, yet her
+memory faithfully retained the incidents that occurred many years
+previous.  The maidservant, a native of Antwerp, had rushed home to her
+parents when the tumult began.
+
+As the day drew towards a close, the panes were less frequently shaken by
+the thunder of the artillery, the noise in the streets diminished, but
+the house became more and more filled with suffocating smoke.
+
+Night came, the lamp was lighted, the women started at every new sound,
+but anxiety for Adam now overpowered every other feeling in Ruth's mind.
+Just then the door opened, and the smith's deep voice called in the
+vestibule: "It is I!  Don't be frightened, it is I!"
+
+He had gone out with five journeymen: he returned with two.  The others
+lay slain in the streets, and with them Count Oberstein's soldiers, the
+only ones who had stoutly resisted the Spanish mutineers and their allies
+to the last man.
+
+Adam had swung his hammer on the Mere and by the Zucker Canal among the
+citizens, who fought desperately for the property and lives of their
+families;--but all was vain.  Vargas's troopers had stifled even the last
+breath of resistance.
+
+The streets ran blood, corpses lay in heaps before the doors and on the
+pavement--among them the bodies of the Margrave of Antwerp, Verreyck,
+Burgomaster van der Mere, and many senators and nobles.  Conflagration
+after conflagration crimsoned the heavens, the superb city-hall was
+blazing, and from a thousand windows echoed the screams of the assailed,
+plundered, bleeding citizens, women and children.
+
+The smith hastily ate a few mouthfuls to restore his strength, then
+raised his head, saying: "No one has touched our house.  The door and
+shutters of neighbor Ykens' are shattered."
+
+"A  miracle!" cried old Rahel, raising her staff.  "The generation of
+vipers scent richer booty than iron at the silversmith's."
+
+Just at that moment the knocker sounded.  Adam started up, put on his
+coat of mail again, motioned to his journeymen and went to the door.
+
+Rahel shrieked loudly: "To the cellar, Ruth.  Oh, God, oh, God, have
+mercy upon us!  Quick--where's my shawl?--They are attacking us!--Come,
+come!  Oh, I am caught, I can go no farther!"
+
+Mortal terror had seized the old woman; she did not want to die.  To the
+girl death was welcome, and she did not stir.
+
+Voices were now audible in the vestibule, but they sounded neither noisy
+nor threatening; yet Rahel shrieked in despair as a lansquenet, fully
+armed, entered the workshop with the armorer.
+
+Hans Eitelfritz had come to look for Ulrich's father.  In his arms lay
+the dog Lelaps, which, bleeding from the wound made by a bullet, that
+grazed its neck, nestled trembling against its master.
+
+Bowing courteously to Ruth, the soldier said:
+
+"Take pity on this poor creature, fair maiden, and wash its wound with a
+little wine.  It deserves it.  I could tell you such tales of its
+cleverness!  It came from distant India, where a pirate....  But you
+shall hear the story some other time.  Thanks, thanks!  As to your son,
+Meister, it's a thousand pities about him.  He was a splendid fellow, and
+we were like two brothers.  He himself gave me the safeguard for you and
+the artist, Moor.  I fastened them on the doors with my own hands, as
+soon as the fray began.  My swordbearer got the paste, and now may the
+writing stick there as an honorable memento till the end of the world.
+Navarrete was a faithful fellow, who never forgot his friends!  How much
+good that does Lelaps!  See, see!  He is licking your hands, that means,
+'I thank you.'"
+
+While Ruth had been washing the dog's wound, and the lansquenet talked of
+Ulrich, her tearful eyes met the father's.
+
+"They say he cut down twenty-one Walloons before he fell," continued
+Hans.
+
+"No, sir," interrupted Adam.  "I saw him.  He was shot before he raised
+his guilty sword."
+
+"Ah, ah!--but it happened on the rampart."
+
+"They rushed over him to the assault."
+
+"And there he still lies; not a soul has cared for the dead and wounded."
+
+The girl started, and laid the dog in the old man's lap, exclaiming:
+"Suppose Ulrich should be alive!  Perhaps he was not mortally wounded,
+perhaps...."
+
+"Yes, everything is possible," interrupted the lansquenet.  "I could tell
+you things....  for instance, there was a countryman of mine whom, when
+we were in Africa, a Moorish Pacha struck....no lies now....perhaps!  In
+earnest; it might happen that Ulrich....wait....  at midnight I shall
+keep guard on the rampart with my company, then I'll look...."
+
+"We, we will seek him!"  cried Ruth, seizing the smith's arm.
+
+"I will," replied the smith; "you must stay here."
+
+"No, father, I will go with you."
+
+The lansquenet also shook his head, saying "Jungfer, Jungfer, you don't
+know what a day this is.  Thank Our Heavenly Father that you have
+hitherto escaped so well.  The fierce lion has tasted blood.  You are a
+pretty child, and if they should see you to-day...."
+
+"No matter," interrupted the girl.  "I know what I am asking.  You will
+take me with you, father!  Do so, if you love me!  I will find him, if
+any one can!
+
+"Oh, sir, sir, you look kind and friendly!  You have the guard.  Escort
+us; let me seek Ulrich.  I shall find him, I know; I must seek him--I
+must."
+
+The girl's cheeks were glowing; for before her she saw her playfellow,
+her lover, gasping for breath, with staring eyes, her name upon his dying
+lips.
+
+Adam sadly shook his head, but Hans Eitelfritz was touched by the girl's
+eager longing to help the man who was dear to him, so he hastily taxed
+his inventive brain, saying:
+
+"Perhaps it might be risked....listen to me, Meister!  You won't be
+particularly safe in the streets, yourself, and could hardly reach the
+rampart without me.  I shall lose precious time;  but you are his father,
+and this girl--is she his sister?--No?--So much the better for him, if he
+lives!  It isn't an easy matter, but it can be done.  Yonder good dame
+will take care of Lelaps for me.  Poor dog!  That feels good, doesn't it?
+Well then....I can be here again at midnight.  Have you a handcart in the
+house?"
+
+For coal and iron."
+
+"That will answer.  Let the woman make a kettle of soup, and if you have
+a few hams...."
+
+"There are four in the store-room," cried Ruth.
+
+"Take some bread, a few jugs of wine,  and a keg of beer, too, and then
+follow me quietly.  I have the password, my servant will accompany me,
+and I'll make the Spaniards believe you belong to us, and are bringing my
+men their supper.  Blacken your pretty face a little, my dear girl, wrap
+yourself up well, and if we find Ulrich we will put him in the empty
+cart, and I will accompany you home again.  Take yonder spicesack, and if
+we find the poor fellow, dead or alive, hide him with it.  The sack was
+intended for other things, but I shall be well content with this booty.
+Take care of these silver toys.  What pretty things they are!  How the
+little horse rears, and see the bird in the cage!  Don't look so fierce,
+Meister!  In catching fish we must be content even with smelts; if I
+hadn't taken these, others would have done so; they are for my sister's
+children, and there is something else hidden here in my doublet; it shall
+help me to pass my leisure hours.  One man's meat is another man's
+poison."
+
+When Hans Eitelfritz returned at midnight, the cart with the food and
+liquor was ready.  Adam's warnings were unavailing.  Ruth resolutely
+insisted upon accompanying him, and he well knew what urged her to risk
+safety and life as freely as he did himself.
+
+Old Rahel had done her best to conceal Ruth's beauty.
+
+The dangerous nocturnal pilgrimage began.
+
+The smith pulled the cart, and Ruth pushed, Hans Eitelfritz, with his
+sword-bearer, walking by her side.  From time to time Spanish soldiers
+met and accosted them; but Hans skilfully satisfied their curiosity and
+dispelled their suspicions.
+
+Pillage and murder had not yet ceased, and Ruth saw, heard, and
+mistrusted scenes of horror, that congealed her blood.  But she bore up
+until they reached the rampart.
+
+Here Eitelfritz was among his own men.
+
+He delivered the meat and drink to them, told them to take it out of the
+cart, and invited them to fall to boldly.  Then, seizing a lantern, he
+guided Ruth and the smith, who drew the light cart after them, through
+the intense darkness of the November night to the rampart.
+
+Hans Eitelfritz lighted the way, and all three searched.  Corpse lay
+beside corpse.  Wherever Ruth set her foot, it touched some fallen
+soldier.  Dread, horror and loathing threatened to deprive her of
+consciousness; but the ardent longing, the one last hope of her soul
+sustained her, steeled her energy, sharpened her sight.
+
+They had reached the centre of the rampart, when she saw in the distance
+a tall figure stretched at full length.
+
+That, yes, that was he!
+
+Snatching the lantern from the lansquenet's hand, she rushed to the
+prostrate form, threw herself on her knees beside it, and cast the light
+upon the face.
+
+What had she seen?
+
+Why did the shriek she uttered sound so agonized?  The men were
+approaching, but Ruth knew that there was something else to be done,
+besides weeping and wailing.
+
+She pressed her ear close to the mailed breast to listen, and when she
+heard no breath, hurriedly unfastened the clasps and buckles that
+confined the armor.
+
+The cuirass fell rattling on the ground, and now--no, there was no
+deception, the wounded man's chest rose under her ear, she heard the
+faint throbbing of his heart, the feeble flutter of a gasping breach.
+
+Bursting into loud, convulsive weeping, she raised his head and pressed
+it to her bosom.
+
+"He is dead; I thought so!"  said the lansquenet, and Adam sank on his
+knees before his wounded son.  But Ruth's sobs now changed to low,
+joyous, musical laughter, which echoed in her voice as she exclaimed:
+"Ulrich breathes, he lives!  Oh, God! oh, God!  how we thank Thee!"
+
+Then--was she deceived, could it be?  She heard the inflexible man beside
+her sob, saw him bend over Ulrich, listen to the beating of his heart,
+and press his bearded lips first to his temples, then on the hand he had
+so harshly rejected.
+
+Hans Eitelfritz warned them to hasten, carried the senseless man, with
+Adam's assistance, to the cart, and half an hour later the dangerously
+wounded, outcast son was lying in the most comfortable bed in the best
+room in his father's house.  His couch was in the upper story; down in
+the kitchen old Rahel was moving about the hearth, preparing her "good
+salve" herself.  While thus engaged she often chuckled aloud, murmuring
+"Ulrich," and while mixing and stirring the mixture could not keep her
+old feet still; it almost seemed as if she wanted to dance.
+
+Hans Eitelfritz promised Adam to tell no one what had become of his son,
+and then returned to his men.  The next morning the mutineers from Aalst
+sought their fallen leader; but he had disappeared, and the legend now
+became wide-spread among them, that the Prince of Evil had carried
+Navarrete to his own abode.  The dog Lelaps died of his wound, and
+scarcely a week after the pillage of flourishing Antwerp by the "Spanish
+Furies," Hans Eitelfritz's regiment was ordered to Ghent.  He came with
+drooping head to the smithy, to take his leave.  He had sold his costly
+booty, and, like so many other pillagers, gambled away the stolen
+property at the exchange.  Nothing was left him of the great day in
+Antwerp, except the silver toys for his sister's children in Colln on the
+Spree.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+The fire in the smithy was extinguished, no hammer fell on the anvil;
+for the wounded man lay in a burning fever; every loud noise disturbed
+him.  Adam had noticed this himself, and gave no time to his work, for
+he had to assist in nursing his son, when it was necessary to raise his
+heavy body, and to relieve Ruth, when, after long night-watches, her
+vigorous strength was exhausted.
+
+The old man saw that the girl's bands were more deft than his own toil-
+hardened ones, and let her take the principal charge-but the hours when
+she was resting in her room were the dearest to him, for then he was
+alone with Ulrich, could read his countenance undisturbed and rejoice in
+gazing at every feature, which reminded him of his child's boyhood and of
+Flora.
+
+He often pressed his bearded lips to the invalid's burning forehead or
+limp hand, and when the physician with an anxious face had left the
+house, he knelt beside Ulrich's couch, buried his forehead among the
+pillows, and fervently prayed the Heavenly Father, to spare his child and
+take in exchange his own life and all that he possessed.
+
+He often thought the end had come, and gave himself up without resistance
+to his grief; Ruth, on the contrary, never lost hope, not even in the
+darkest hours.  God had not let her find Ulrich, merely to take him from
+her again.  The end of danger was to her the beginning of deliverance.
+When he recognized her the first time, she already saw him, leaning on
+her shoulder, walk through the room; when he could raise himself, she
+thought him cured.
+
+Her heart was overflowing with joy, yet her mind remained watchful and
+thoughtful during the long, toilsome nursing.  She did not forget the
+smallest trifle, for before she undertook anything she saw in her mind
+every detail involved, as if it were already completed.  Ulrich took no
+food which she had not prepared with her own hand, no drink which she had
+not herself brought from the cellar or the well.  She perceived in
+advance what disturbed him, what pleased him, what he needed.  If she
+opened or closed the curtain, she gave or withheld no more light than was
+agreeable to him; if she arranged the pillows behind him, she placed them
+neither too high nor too low, and bound up his wounds with a gentle yet
+firm hand, like an experienced physician.  Whatever he felt--pain or
+comfort--she experienced with him.
+
+By degrees the fever vanished; consciousness returned, his pain lessened,
+he could move himself again, and began to feel stronger.  At first he did
+not know where he was; then he recognized Ruth, and then his father.
+
+How still, how dusky, how clean everything that surrounded him was!
+Delightful repose stole over him, pleasant weariness soothed every stormy
+emotion of his heart.  Whenever he opened his eyes, tender, anxious
+glances met him.  Even when the pain returned he enjoyed peaceful,
+consoling mental happiness.  Ruth felt this also, and regarded it as a
+peerless reward.
+
+When she entered the sick-room with fresh linen, and the odor of lavender
+her dead mother had liked floated softly to him from the clean sheets, he
+thought his boyhood had returned, and with it the wise, friendly doctor's
+house.  Elizabeth, the shady pine-woods of his home, its murmuring brooks
+and luxuriant meadows, again rose before his mind; he saw Ruth and
+himself listening to the birds, picking berries, gathering flowers, and
+beseeching beautiful gifts from the "word."  His father appeared even
+more kind, affectionate, and careful than in those days.  The man became
+the boy again, and all his former good traits of character now sprang up
+freshly under the bright light and vivifying dew of love.
+
+He received Ruth's unwearied attentions with ardent gratitude, and when
+he gazed into her faithful eyes, when her hand touched him, her soft,
+deep voice penetrated the depths of his soul, an unexampled sense of
+happiness filled his breast.
+
+Everything, from the least to the greatest, embraced his soul with the
+arms of love.  It seemed as if the ardent yearning of his heart extended
+far beyond the earth, and rose to God, who fills the universe with His
+infinite paternal love.  His every breath, Ulrich thought, must
+henceforth be a prayer, a prayer of gratitude to Him, who is love itself,
+the Love, through and in which he lived.
+
+He had sought love, to enjoy its gifts; now he was glad to make
+sacrifices for its sake.  He saw how Ruth's beautiful face saddened when
+he was suffering, and with manly strength of will concealed inexpressible
+agony under a grateful smile.  He feigned sleep, to permit her and his
+father to rest, and when tortured by feverish restlessness, lay still
+to give his beloved nurses pleasure and repay their solicitude.
+Love urged him to goodness, gave him strength for all that is good.
+His convalescence advanced and, when he was permitted to leave his bed,
+his father was the first one to support him through the room and down the
+steps into the court-yard.  He often felt with quiet emotion the old man
+stroke the hand that rested on his arm, and when, exhausted, he returned
+to the sick-room, he sank with a grateful heart into his comfortable
+seat, casting a look of pleasure at the flowers, which Ruth had taken
+from her chamber window and placed on the table beside him.
+
+His family now knew what he had endured and experienced, and the smith
+found a kind, soothing word for all that, a few months before, he had
+considered criminal and unpardonable.
+
+During such a conversation, Ulrich once exclaimed "War!  You know not how
+it bears one along with it; it is a game whose stake is life.  That of
+others is of as little value as your own; to do your worst to every one,
+is the watchword; but now--every thing has grown so calm in my soul, and
+I have a horror of the turmoil in the field.  I was talking with Ruth
+yesterday about her father, and she reminded me of his favorite saying,
+which I had forgotten long ago.  Do you know what it is?  'Do unto
+others, as ye would that others should do unto you.'  I have not been
+cruel, and never drew the sword out of pleasure in slaying; but now I
+grieve for having brought woe to so many!
+
+"What things were done in Haarlem!  If you had moved there instead of to
+Antwerp, and you and Ruth....I dare not think of it!  Memories of those
+days torture me in many a sleepless hour, and there is much that fills me
+with bitter remorse.  But I am permitted to live, and it seems as if I
+were new-born, and henceforth existence and doing good must be synonymous
+to me.  You were right to be angry...."
+
+"That is all forgiven and forgotten," interrupted the smith in a resonant
+voice, pressing his son's fingers with his hard right hand.
+
+These words affected the convalescent like a strengthening potion, and
+when the hammers again moved in the smithy, Ulrich was no longer
+satisfied with his idle life, and began with Ruth to look forward to and
+discuss the future.
+
+The words: 'fortune,' 'fame,' 'power,"' he said once, "have deceived me;
+but art!  You don't know, Ruth, what art is!  It does not bestow
+everything, but a great deal, a great deal.  Meister Moor was indeed
+a teacher!  I am too old to begin at the beginning once more.  If it were
+not for that...."
+
+"Well, Ulrich?"
+
+"I should like to try painting again."
+
+The girl exhorted him to take courage, and told his father of their
+conversation.  The smith put on his Sunday clothes and went to the
+artist's house.  The latter was in Brussels, but was expected home soon.
+
+From this time, every third day, Adam donned his best clothes, which
+he disliked to wear, and went to the artist's; but always in vain.
+
+In the month of February the invalid was playing chess with Ruth,--
+she had learned the game from the smith and Ulrich from her,--when Adam
+entered the room, saying: "when the game is over, I wish to speak to you,
+my son."
+
+The young girl had the advantage, but instantly pushed the pieces
+together and left the two alone.
+
+She well knew what was passing in the father's mind, for the day before
+he had brought all sorts of artist's materials, and told her to arrange
+the little gable-room, with the large window facing towards the north,
+and put the easel and colors there.  They had only smiled at each other,
+but they had long since learned to understand each other, even without
+words.
+
+"What is it?" asked Ulrich in surprise.
+
+The smith then told him what he had provided and arranged, adding: "the
+picture on the standard--you say you painted it yourself."
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+"It was your mother, exactly as she looked when....She did not treat
+either of us rightly--but she!--the Christian must forgive;--and as she
+was your mother--why--I should like....  perhaps it is not possible; but
+if you could paint her picture, not as a Madonna, only as she looked when
+a young wife...."
+
+"I can, I will!" cried Ulrich, in joyous excitement.  "Take me upstairs,
+is the canvas ready?"
+
+"In the frame, firmly in the frame!  I am an old man, and you see, child,
+I remember how wonderfully sweet your mother was; but I can never succeed
+in recalling just how she looked then.  I have tried, tried thousands and
+thousands of times; at--Richtberg, here, everywhere--deep as was my
+wrath!"
+
+"You shall see her again surely--surely!" interrupted Ulrich.  "I see her
+before me, and what I see in my mind, I can paint!"
+
+The work was commenced the very same day.  Ulrich now succeeded
+wonderfully, and lavished on the portrait all the wealth of love, with
+which his heart was filled.
+
+Never had he guided the brush so joyously; in painting this picture he
+only wished to give, to give--give his beloved father the best he could
+accomplish, so he succeeded.
+
+The young wife, attired in a burgher dress, stood with her bewitching
+eyes and a melancholy, half-tender, half-mournful smile on her lips.
+
+Adam was not permitted to enter the studio again until the portrait was
+completed.  When Ulrich at last unveiled the picture, the old man--unable
+longer to control himself--burst into loud sobs and fell upon his son's
+breast.  It seemed to Adam that the pretty creature in the golden frame
+--far from needing his forgiveness--was entitled to his gratitude for
+many blissful hours.
+
+Soon after, Adam found Moor at home, and a few hours later took Ulrich
+to him.  It was a happy and a quiet meeting, which was soon followed by a
+second interview in the smith's house.
+
+Moor gazed long and searchingly at Ulrich's work.  When he had examined
+it sufficiently, he held out his hand to his pupil, saying warmly:
+
+"I always said so; you are an artist!  From to-morrow we will work
+together again, daily, and you will win more glorious victories with the
+brush than with the sword."
+
+Ulrich's cheeks glowed with happiness and pride.
+
+Ruth had never before seen him look so, and as she gazed joyfully into
+his eyes, he held out his hands to her, exclaiming: "An artist, an artist
+again!  Oh, would that I had always remained one!  Now I lack only one
+thing more--yourself!"
+
+She rushed to his embrace, exclaiming joyously "Yours, yours!  I have
+always been so, and always shall be, to-day, to-morrow, unto death,
+forever and ever!"
+
+"Yes, yes," he answered gravely.  "Our hearts are one and ever will be,
+nothing can separate them; but your fate shall not be linked to mine
+till, Moor himself calls me a master.  Love imposes no condition--I am
+yours and you are mine--but I impose the trial on myself, and this time I
+know it will be passed."
+
+A new spirit animated the pupil.  He rushed to his work with tireless
+energy, and even the hardest task became easy, when he thought of the
+prize he sought.  At the end of a year, Moor ceased to instruct him,
+and Ruth became the wife of Meister Ulrich Schwab.
+
+The famous artist-guild of Antwerp soon proudly numbered him among
+them, and even at the present day his pictures are highly esteemed by
+connoisseurs, though they are attributed to other painters, for he never
+signed his name to his works.
+
+Of the four words, which illumined his life-path as guiding-stars, he had
+learned to value fame and power least; fortune and art remained faithful
+to him, but as the earth does not shine by its own might, but receives
+its light from the sun, so they obtained brilliancy, charm and endearing
+power through love.
+
+The fierce Eletto, whose sword raged in war, following the teachings of
+his noble Master, became a truly Christian philanthropist.
+
+Many have gazed with quiet delight at the magnificent picture, which
+represents a beautiful mother, with a bright, intelligent face, leading
+her three blooming children towards a pleasant old man, who holds out his
+arms to them.  The old man is Adam, the mother Ruth, the children are the
+armorer's grandchildren; Ulrich Schwab was the artist.
+
+Meister Moor died soon after Ulrich's marriage, and a few years after,
+Sophonisba di Moncada came to Antwerp to seek the grave of him she had
+loved.  She knew from the dead man that he had met his dear Madrid pupil,
+and her first visit was to the latter.
+
+After looking at his works, she exclaimed:
+
+"The word!  Do you remember, Meister?  I told you then, that you had
+found the right one.  You are greatly altered, and it is a pity that you
+have lost your flowing locks; but you look like a happy man, and to
+what do you owe it?  To the word, the only right word: 'Art!'"
+
+He let her finish the sentence, then answered gravely "There is still a
+loftier word, noble lady!  Whoever owns it--is rich indeed.  He will no
+longer wander--seek in doubt.
+
+"And this is?"  she asked incredulously, with a smile of superior
+knowledge.
+
+"I have found it," he answered firmly.  "It is 'Love.'"
+
+Sophonisba bent her head, saying softly and sadly: "yes, yes--love."
+
+
+
+
+
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