In the Fire of the Forge: Historical Novel – A Romance of Old Nuremberg
By Georg Ebers
()
About this ebook
Georg Ebers
Georg Moritz Ebers wurde am 1. März 1837 in Berlin geboren und verstarb am 7. August 1898 in Tutzing. Er war ein deutscher Ägyptologe und Schriftsteller.
Read more from Georg Ebers
10 Historical Novels - The Tales of Ancient Egypt Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsAn Egyptian Princess - Complete Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Emperor — Volume 02 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsArachne — Volume 01 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Sisters: The Sisters Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Emperor — Volume 07 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsQuotes and Images From The Novels of Georg Ebers Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsUarda: A Romance of Ancient Egypt Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5The Burgomaster's Wife Complete Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsUarda : a Romance of Ancient Egypt — Volume 06 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsCleopatra Complete Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSerapis Complete Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Word Only a Word Complete Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Bride of the Nile Complete Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsBarbara Blomberg Complete Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Story of My Life Complete Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMargery (Gred) A Tale Of Old Nuremberg Complete Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Complete Short Works of Georg Ebers Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Thorny Path Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsBarbara Blomberg Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
Related to In the Fire of the Forge
Related ebooks
In the Fire of the Forge: Historical Novel – A Romance of Old Nuremberg Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsIn the Fire of the Forge (Historical Novel) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsIn the Fire of the Forge: A Romance of Old Nuremberg — Complete Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsIn the Fire of the Forge: A Romance of Old Nuremberg — Volume 01 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Lances of Lynwood Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Christmas Charade Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Malbone: An Oldport Romance Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMiss Hildreth: A Novel, Volume 2 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsTHE EMPEROR'S CANDLESTICKS (A Spy Classic) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Legend of Saint Julian the Hospitaller Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Shadow of the Rope Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsBlanche: The Maid of Lille Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Silver Crown Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Joseph in the Snow, and The Clockmaker Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Red Fairy Book Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Iron Arrow Head or The Buckler Maiden A Tale of the Northman Invasion Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Hand of Ethelberta: A Comedy in Chapters Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsIn Kropsberg Keep and Other Stories Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMartyr: The First John Shakespeare Mystery Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Hand of Ethelberta Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSylvie: souvenirs du Valois Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Red Fairy Book: 'It is so delightful to teach those one loves!'' Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMetzerott, Shoemaker Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsBarnaby Rudge (Centaur Classics) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsIn the Fire of the Forge: A Romance of Old Nuremberg — Volume 04 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Reputed Changeling; Or, Three Seventh Years Two Centuries Ago Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe House of Shadows Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5No. XIII; or, The Story of the Lost Vestal Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSummer: Romance Novel Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsLovers' Saint Ruth's, and Three Other Tales Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
Historical Romance For You
Pride and Prejudice Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Versions of Us Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Visitors Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A Kingdom of Dreams Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Seven Years to Sin Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Pride and Pleasure Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Secret Diaries of Miss Miranda Cheever Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A Dweller on Two Planets Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSomething Wonderful Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Whitney, My Love Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Bred By The King In Public: Dominant King Erotic History Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Dragonwyck: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Cold-Hearted Rake: The Ravenels, Book 1 Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Slave Girl Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Once Upon A Time: A Collection of Folktales, Fairytales and Legends Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Last Tudor Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Kent Family Chronicles Volumes One Through Three: The Bastard, The Rebels, and The Seekers Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Memory Keeper of Kyiv: A powerful, important historical novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Bound To Please Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Forgotten Home Child Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Dancing at Midnight Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5When I Come Home Again: 'A page-turning literary gem' THE TIMES, BEST BOOKS OF 2020 Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Madame Serpent: A Catherine de' Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Last Garden in England Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5True Alien Seduction: Outing the Flames of Passion Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5
Reviews for In the Fire of the Forge
0 ratings0 reviews
Book preview
In the Fire of the Forge - Georg Ebers
IN THE FIRE OF THE FORGE
—PART I.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I.
Table of Contents
On the eve of St. Medard’s Day in the year 1281, the moon, which had just risen, was shining brightly upon the imperial free city of Nuremberg; its rays found their way into the street leading from the strong Marienthurm to the Frauenthor, but entrance to the Ortlieb mansion was barred by a house, a watchtower, and—most successfully of all—by a tall linden tree. Yet there was something to be seen here which even now, when Nuremberg sheltered the Emperor Rudolph and so many secular and ecclesiastical princes, counts, and knights, awakened Luna’s curiosity. True, this something had naught in common with the brilliant spectacles of which there was no lack during this month of June; on the contrary, it was very quiet here. An imperial command prohibited the soldiery from moving about the city at night, and the Frauenthor, through which during the day plenty of people and cattle passed in and out had been closed long before. Very few of the worthy burghers—who went to bed betimes and rose so early that they rarely had leisure to enjoy the moonlight long—passed here at this hour. The last one, an honest master weaver, had moved with a very crooked gait. As he saw the moon double—like everything else around and above him—he had wondered whether the man up there had a wife. He expected no very pleasant reception from his own at home. The watchman, who—the moon did not exactly know why—lingered a short time in front of the Ortlieb mansion, followed the burgher. Then came a priest who, with the sacristan and several lantern bearers, was carrying the sacrament to a dying man in St. Clarengasse.
There was usually more to be seen at this hour on the other side of the city—the northwestern quarter—where the fortress rose on its hill, dominating the Thiergartenthor at its foot; for the Emperor Rudolph occupied the castle, and his brother-in-law, Burgrave Friedrich von Zollern, his own residence. This evening, however, there was little movement even there; the Emperor and his court, the Burgrave and his train, with all the secular and ecclesiastical princes, counts, and knights, had gone to the Town Hall with their ladies. High revel was held there, and inspiring music echoed through the open windows of the spacious apartment, where the Emperor Rudolph also remained during the ball. Here the moonbeams might have been reflected from glittering steel or the gold, silver, and gems adorning helmets, diadems, and gala robes; or they might surely have found an opportunity to sparkle on the ripples of the Pegnitz River, which divided the city into halves; but the heavenly wanderer, from the earliest times, has preferred leafy hidden nooks to scenes of noisy gaiety, a dim light to a brilliant glare. Luna likes best to gaze where there is a secret to be discovered, and mortals have always been glad to choose her as a confidante. Something exactly suited to her taste must surely be going on just now near the linden which, in all the splendour of fullest bloom, shaded the street in front of the Ortlieb mansion; for she had seen two fair girls grow up in the ancient dwelling with the carved escutcheon above the lofty oak door, and the ample garden—and the younger, from her earliest childhood, had been on especially intimate terms with her.
Now the topmost boughs of the linden, spite of their dense foliage, permitted a glimpse of the broad courtyard which separated the patrician residence from the street.
A chain, which with graceful curves united a short row of granite posts, shut out the pedestrians, the vehicles and horsemen, the swine and other animals driven through the city gate. In contrast with the street, which in bad weather resembled an almost impassable swamp, it was always kept scrupulously clean, and the city beadle might spare himself the trouble of looking there for the carcasses of sucking pigs, cats, hens, and rats, which it was his duty to carry away.
A young man with an unusually tall and powerful figure was standing in this yard, gazing up at a window in the second story. The shadow of the linden concealed his features and his dress, but the moon had already seen him more than once in this very spot and knew that he was a handsome fellow, whose bronzed countenance, with its prominent nose and broad brow, plainly indicated a strong will. She had also seen the scar stretching from the roots of his long brown locks across the whole forehead to the left cheek-bone, that lent the face a martial air. Yet he belonged to no military body, but was the son of a noble family of Nuremberg, which boasted, it is true, of knightly blood
and the right of its sons to enter the lists of the tournament, but was engaged in peaceful pursuits; for it carried on a trade with Italy and the Netherlands, and every male scion of the Eysvogel race had the birthright of being elected a member of the Honourable Council and taking part in the government of Nuremberg.
The moon had long known that the young man in the courtyard was an Eysvogel, nor was this difficult to discover. Every child in Nuremberg was familiar with the large showy coat of arms lately placed above the lofty doorway of the Eysvogel mansion; and the nocturnal visitor wore a doublet on whose left breast was embroidered the same coat of arms, with three birds in the shield and one on the helmet.
He had already waited some time in vain, but now a young girl’s head appeared at the window, and a gay fresh voice called his Christian name, Wolff!
Waving his cap, he stepped nearer to the casement, greeted her warmly, and told her that he had come at this late hour to say good-night, though only from the front yard.
Come in,
she entreated. True, my father and Eva have gone to the dance at the Town Hall, but my aunt, the abbess, is sitting with my mother.
No, no,
replied Wolff, I only stopped in passing. Besides, I am stealing even this brief time.
Business?
asked the young girl. "Do you know, I am beginning to be jealous of the monster which, like an old spider, constantly binds you closer and closer in its web. What sort of dealing is this?—to give the whole day to business, and only a few minutes of moonlight to your betrothed bride!
I wish it were otherwise,
sighed Wolff. You do not know how hard these times are, Els! Nor how many thoughts beset my brain, since my father has placed me in charge of all his new enterprises.
Always something new,
replied Els, with a shade of reproach in her tone. What an omnivorous appetite this Eysvogel business possesses! Ullmann Nutzel said lately: ‘Wherever one wants to buy, the bird—[vogel]—has been ahead and snapped up everything in Venice and Milan. And the young one is even sharper at a bargain,’ he added.
Because I want to make a warm nest for you, dearest,
replied Wolff.
As if we were shopkeepers anxious to secure customers!
said the girl, laughing. I think the old Eysvogel house must have enough big stoves to warm its son and his wife. At the Tuckers the business supports seven, with their wives and children. What more do we want? I believe that we love each other sincerely, and though I understand life better than Eva, to whom poverty and happiness are synonymous, I don’t need, like the women of your family, gold plates for my breakfast porridge or a bed of Levantine damask for my lapdog. And the dowry my father will give me would supply the daughters of ten knights.
I know it, sweetheart,
interrupted Wolff dejectedly; and how gladly I would be content with the smallest—
Then be so!
she exclaimed cheerily. What you would call ‘the smallest,’ others term wealth. You want more than competence, and I—the saints know-would be perfectly content with ‘good.’ Many a man has been shipwrecked on the cliffs of ‘better’ and ‘best.’
Fired with passionate ardour, he exclaimed, I am coming in now.
And the business?
she asked mischievously. Let it go as it will,
he answered eagerly, waving his hand. But the next instant he dropped it again, saying thoughtfully: No, no; it won’t do, there is too much at stake.
Els had already turned to send Katterle, the maid, to open the heavy house door, but ere doing so she put her beautiful head out again, and asked:
Is the matter really so serious? Won’t the monster grant you even a good-night kiss?
No,
he answered firmly. Your menservants have gone, and before the maid could open——There is the moon rising above the linden already. It won’t do. But I’ll see you to-morrow and, please God, with a lighter heart. We may have good news this very day.
Of the wares from Venice and Milan?
asked Els anxiously.
Yes, sweetheart. Two waggon trains will meet at Verona. The first messenger came from Ingolstadt, the second from Munich, and the one from Landshut has been here since day before yesterday. Another should have arrived this morning, but the intense heat yesterday, or some cause—at any rate there is reason for anxiety. You don’t know what is at stake.
But peace was proclaimed yesterday,
said Els, and if robber knights and bandits should venture——But, no! Surely the waggons have a strong escort.
The strongest,
answered Wolff. The first wain could not arrive before to-morrow morning.
You see!
cried the girl gaily. Just wait patiently. When you are once mine I’ll teach you not to look on the dark side. O Wolff, why is everything made so much harder for us than for others? Now this evening, it would have been so pleasant to go to the ball with you.
Yet, how often, dearest, I have urged you in vain——
he began, but she hastily interrupted Yes, it was certainly no fault of yours, but one of us must remain with my mother, and Eva——
Yesterday she complained to me with tears in her eyes that she would be forced to go to this dance, which she detested.
That is the very reason she ought to go,
explained Els. She is eighteen years old, and has never yet been induced to enter into any of the pleasures other girls enjoy. When she isn’t in the convent she is always at home, or with Aunt Kunigunde or one of the nuns in the woods and fields. If she wants to take the veil later, who can prevent it, but the abbess herself advises that she should have at least a glimpse of the world before leaving it. Few need it more, it seems to me, than our Eva.
Certainly,
Wolff assented. Such a lovely creature! I know no girl more beautiful in all Nuremberg.
Oh! you——,
said his betrothed bride, shaking her finger at her lover, but he answered promptly,
You just told me that you preferred ‘good’ to ‘better,’ and so doubtless ‘fair’ to ‘fairer,’ and you are beautiful, Els, in person and in soul. As for Eva, I admire, in pictures of madonnas and angels, those wonderful saintly eyes with their uplifted gaze and marvellously long lashes, the slight droop of the little head, and all the other charms; yet I gladly dispense with them in my heart’s darling and future wife. But you, Els—if our Lord would permit me to fashion out of divine clay a life companion after my own heart, do you know how she would look?
Like me—exactly like Els Ortlieb, of course,
replied the girl laughing.
A correct guess, with all due modesty,
Wolff answered gaily. But take care that she does not surpass your wishes. For you know, if the little saint should meet at the dance some handsome fellow whom she likes better than the garb of a nun, and becomes a good Nuremberg wife, the excess of angelic virtue will vanish; and if I had a brother—in serious earnest—I would send him to your Eva.
And,
cried Els, however quickly her mood changes, it will surely do her no harm. But as yet she cares nothing about you men. I know her, and the tears she shed when our father gave her the costly Milan suckenie, in which she went to the ball, were anything but tears of joy.
[Suckenie—A long garment, fitting the upper part of the body
closely and widening very much below the waist, with openings for
the arms.]
I only wonder,
added Wolff, that you persuaded her to go; the pious lamb knows how to use her horns fiercely enough.
Oh, yes,
Els assented, as if she knew it by experience; then she eagerly continued, She is still just like an April day.
And therefore,
Wolff remarked, the dance which she began with tears will end joyously enough. The young knights and nobles will gather round her like bees about honey. Count von Montfort, my brother-in-law Siebenburg says, is also at the Town Hall with his daughter.
And the comet Cordula was followed, as usual, by a long train of admirers,
said Els. My father was obliged to give the count lodgings; it could not be avoided. The Emperor Rudolph had named him to the Council among those who must be treated with special courtesy. So he was assigned to us, and the whole suite of apartments in the back of the house, overlooking the garden, is now filled with Montforts, Montfort household officials, menservants, squires, pages, and chaplains. Montfort horses and hounds crowd our good steeds out of their stalls. Besides the twenty stabled here, eighteen were put in the brewery in the Hundsgasse, and eight belong to Countess Cordula. Then the constant turmoil all day long and until late at night! It is fortunate that they do not lodge with us in the front of the house! It would be very bad for my mother!
Then you can rejoice over the departure all the more cordially,
observed Wolff.
It will hardly cause us much sorrow,
Els admitted. Yet the young countess brings much merriment into our quiet house. She is certainly a tireless madcap, and it will vex your proud sister Isabella to know that your brother-in-law Siebenburg is one of her admirers. Did she not go to the Town Hall?
No,
Wolff answered; the twins have changed her wonderfully. You saw the dress my mother pressed upon her for the ball—Genoese velvet and Venetian lace! Its cost would have bought a handsome house. She was inclined, too, to appear as a young mother at the festival, and I assure you that she looked fairly regal in the magnificent attire. But this morning, after she had bathed the little boys, she changed her mind. Though my mother, and even my grandmother, urged her to go, she insisted that she belonged to the twins, and that some evil would befall the little ones if she left them.
That is noble!
cried Els in delight, and if I should ever—. Yet no, Isabella and I cannot be compared. My husband will never be numbered among the admirers of another woman, like your detestable brother-in-law. Besides, he is wasting time with Cordula. Her worldliness repels Eva, it is true, but I have heard many pleasant things about her. Alas! she is a motherless girl, and her father is an old reveller and huntsman, who rejoices whenever she does any audacious act. But he keeps his purse open to her, and she is kind-hearted and obliging to a degree——
Equalled by few,
interrupted Wolff, with a sneer. The men know how to praise her for it. No paternoster would be imposed upon her in the confessional on account of cruel harshness.
Nor for a sinful or a spiteful deed,
replied Els positively. Don’t say anything against her to me, Wolff, in spite of your dissolute brother-in-law. I have enough to do to intercede for her with Eva and Aunt Kunigunde since she singed and oiled the locks of a Swiss knight belonging to the Emperor’s court. Our Katterle brought the coals. But many other girls do that, since courtesy permits it. Her train to the Town Hall certainly made a very brave show; the fifty freight waggons you are expecting will scarcely form a longer line.
The young merchant started. The comparison roused his forgotten anxiety afresh, and after a few brief, tender words of farewell he left the object of his love. Els gazed thoughtfully after him; the moonlight revealed his tall, powerful figure for a long time. Her heart throbbed faster, and she felt more deeply than ever how warmly she loved him. He moved as though some heavy burden of care bowed his strong shoulders. She would fain have hastened after him, clung to him, and asked what troubled him, what he was concealing from her who was ready to share everything with him, but the Frauenthor, through which he entered the city, already hid him from her gaze.
She turned back into the room with a faint sigh. It could scarcely be solely anxiety about his expected goods that burdened her lover’s mind. True, his weak, arrogant mother, and still more his grandmother, the daughter of a count, who lived with them in the Eysvogel house and still ruled her daughter as if she were a child, had opposed her engagement to Wolff, but their resistance had ceased since the betrothal. On the other hand, she had often heard that Fran Eysvogel, the haughty mother, dowerless herself, had many poor and extravagant relations besides her daughter and her debt-laden, pleasure-loving husband, Sir Seitz Siebenburg, who, it could not be denied, all drew heavily upon the coffers of the ancient mercantile house. Yet it was one of the richest in Nuremberg. Yes, something of which she was still ignorant must be oppressing Wolff, and, with the firm resolve to give him no peace until he confessed everything to her, she returned to the couch of her invalid mother.
CHAPTER II.
Table of Contents
Wolff had scarcely vanished from the street, and Els from the window, when a man’s slender figure appeared, as if it had risen from the earth, beside the spurge-laurel tree at the left of the house. Directly after some one rapped lightly on the pavement of the yard, and in a few minutes the heavy ironbound oak doors opened and a woman’s hand beckoned to the late guest, who glided swiftly along in the narrow line of shadow cast by the house and vanished through the entrance.
The moon looked after him doubtfully. In former days the narrow-shouldered fellow had been seen near the Ortlieb house often enough, and his movements had awakened Luna’s curiosity; for he had been engaged in amorous adventure even when work was still going on at the recently completed convent of St. Clare—an institution endowed by the Ebner brothers, to which Herr Ernst Ortlieb added a considerable sum. At that time—about three years before—the bold fellow had gone there to keep tryst evening after evening, and the pretty girl who met him was Katterle, the waiting maid of the beautiful Els, as Nuremberg folk called the Ortlieb sisters, Els and Eva. Many vows of ardent, changeless love for her had risen to the moon, and the outward aspect of the man who made them afforded a certain degree of assurance that he would fulfil his pledges, for he then wore the long dark robe of reputable people, and on the front of his cap, from which a net shaped like a bag hung down his back, was a large S, and on the left shoulder of his long coat a T, the initials of the words Steadfast and True. They bore witness that the person who had them embroidered on his clothing deemed these virtues the highest and noblest. It might have been believed that the lean fellow, who scarcely looked his five-and-thirty years, possessed these lofty traits of character; for, though three full years had passed since his last meeting with Katterle at the building site, he had gone to his sweetheart with his wonted steadfastness and truth immediately after the Emperor Rudolph’s entry.
He had given her reason to rely upon him; but the moon’s gaze reaches far, and had discovered the quality of Walther Biberli’s steadfastness and truth.
In one respect it proved the best and noblest; for among thousands of servitors the moon had not seen one who clung to his lord with more loyal devotion. Towards pretty young women, on the contrary, he displayed his principal virtues in a very singular way; for the pallid nocturnal wanderer above had met him in various lands and cities, and wherever he tarried long another maid was added to the list of those to whom Biberli vowed steadfastness and truth.
True, whenever Sir Long Coat’s travels led him back to any one to whom he had sworn eternal love, he went first to her, if she, too, retained the old affection. But Katterle had cause to care for him most, for he was more warmly devoted to her than to any of the others, and in his own fashion his intentions were honest. He seriously intended, as soon as his master left the imperial court—which he hoped would not happen too soon—and returned to his ancestral castle in his native Switzerland, to establish a home of his own for his old age, and no one save Katterle should light the hearth fire. Her outward circumstances pleased him, as well as her disposition and person. She was free-born, like himself—the son of a forest keeper—and, again like him, belonged to a Swiss family; her heritage (she was an orphan), which consisted of a house and arable land in her home, Sarnen, where she still sent her savings, satisfied his requirements. But above all she believed in him and admired his versatile mind and his experience. Moreover, she gave him absolute obedience, and loved him so loyally that she had remained unwedded, though a number of excellent men had sought her in marriage.
Katterle had met him for the first time more than three years before when, after the battle of Marchfield, he remained several weeks in Nuremberg. They had sat side by side at a tournament, and, recognising each other as Swiss-born by the sharp sound of the letters ch
and the pronunciation of other words, were mutually attracted.
Katterle had a kind heart; yet at that time she almost yielded to the temptation to pray Heaven not to hasten the cure of a brave man’s wounds too quickly, for she knew that Biberli was a squire in the service of the young Swiss knight Heinz Schorlin, whose name was on every lip because, in spite of his youth, he had distinguished himself at the battle of Marchfield by his rare bravery, and that the young hero would remain in Nuremberg only until his severe injuries were completely healed. His departure would bring to her separation from his servant, and sometimes when homesickness tortured her she thought she would be unable to survive the parting. Meanwhile Biberli nursed his master with faithful zeal, as if nothing bound him to Nuremberg, and even after his departure Katterle remained in good health.
Now she had him again. Directly after the Emperor Rudolph’s entrance, five days before, Biberli had come openly to the Ortlieb house and presented himself to Martsche—[Margaret]—the old house keeper, as the countryman and friend of the waiting maid, who had brought her a message from home.
True, it had been impossible to say anything confidential either in the crowded kitchen or in the servants’ hall. To-night’s meeting was to afford the opportunity.
The menservants, carrying sedan chairs and torches, had all gone out with their master, who had taken his younger daughter, Eva, to the dance. They were to wait in front of the Town Hall, because it was doubtful whether the daughter of the house, who had been very reluctant to go to the entertainment, might not urge an early departure. Count von Montfort, whose quarters were in the Ortlieb mansion, and his whole train of male attendants, certainly would not come back till very late at night or even early morning, for the Countess Cordula remained at a ball till the close, and her father lingered over the wine cup till his daughter called him from the revellers.
All this warranted the lovers in hoping for an undisturbed interview. The place of meeting was well chosen. It was unsatisfactory only to the moon for, after Biberli had closed the heavy door of the house behind him, Luna found no chink or crevice through which a gliding ray might have watched what the true and steadfast Biberli was saying to Katterle. There was one little window beside the door, but it was closed, and the opening was covered with sheepskin. So the moon’s curiosity was not gratified.
Instead of her silver rays, the long entry of the Ortlieb house, with its lofty ceiling, was illumined only by the light of three lanterns, which struggled dimly through horn panes. The shining dots in a dark corner of the spacious corridor were the eyes of a black cat, watching there for rats and mice.
The spot really possessed many advantages for the secret meeting of two lovers, for as it ran through the whole width of the house, it had two doors, one leading to the street, the other into the yard. In the right wall of the entry there were also two small doors, reached by a flight of steps. At this hour both closed empty rooms, for the office and the chamber where Herr Ernst Ortlieb received his business friends had not been occupied since sunset, and the bathroom and dressing-room adjoining were used only during the day.
True, some unbidden intruder might have come down the long broad staircase leading to the upper story. But in that case the lovers had the best possible hiding-place close at hand, for here large and small boxes, standing side by side and one above another, formed a protecting wall; yonder heaps of sacks and long rows of casks afforded room for concealment behind them. Rolls of goods packed in sacking leaned against the chests, inviting a fugitive to slip back of them, and surely no one would suspect the presence of a pair of lovers in the rear of these mountains of hides and bales wrapped in matting. Still it would scarcely have been advisable to remain near them; for these packages, which the Ortlieb house brought from Venice, contained pepper and other spices that exhaled a pungent odor, endurable only by hardened nerves.
Valuable goods of various kinds lay here until they could be placed in cellars or storehouses or sold. But there was many an empty space, too, in the broad corridor for, spite of Emperor Rudolph’s strictness, robbery on the highroads had by no means ceased, and Herr Ernst Ortlieb was still compelled to use caution in the transportation of costly wares.
After Biberli and his sweetheart had assured themselves that the ardour of their love had by no means cooled, they sat down on some bags filled with cloves and related to each other the experiences through which they had passed during the period of separation.
Katterle’s life had flowed on in a pleasant monotony. She had no cause to complain of her employers.
Fran Maria Ortlieb, the invalid mistress of the house, rarely needed her services.
During a ride to visit relatives in Ulm, the travellers, who were under the same escort of men at arms as a number of Nuremberg freight waggons, had been attacked by the robber knights Absbach and Hirschhorn. An arrow had struck Frau Ortlieb’s palfrey, causing the unfortunate woman a severe fall, which produced an internal injury, from which she had not yet recovered. The assault resulted unfortunately for young Hirschhorn, who led it; he met with a shameful death on the gallows.
The information enraged Biberli. Instead of feeling any sympathy for the severely injured lady, he insisted that the Nuremberg burghers had dealt with Hirschhorn in a rascally fashion; for he was a knight, and therefore, as honest judges familiar with the law, they ought to have put him to death by the sword instead of with the rope. And Katterle agreed with him; she never contradicted his opinions, and surely Biberli must know what treatment befitted a knight, since he was the foster-brother of one.
Nor did the maid, who was in the personal service of the daughters of the house, make any complaint against them. Indeed, she could not praise Els, the elder, sufficiently. She was very just, the careful nurse of her invalid mother, and always unvarying in her cheerful kindness.
She had no fault to find with Eva either, especially as she was more religious than any one in the whole house. Spite of her marvellous beauty—Katterle knew that there was nothing false about it—she would probably end by joining the nuns in the convent. But her mood changed with every breath, like the weathercock on the steeple. If she got out of bed the wrong way, or one did not guess her wishes before they were uttered, she would fly into a rage at the least trifle. Then she sometimes used very unkind words; but no one could cherish anger against her long, for she had an indescribably lovely manner of trying to atone for the offences which her hasty young blood made her commit. She had gone to the ball that night as if it were a funeral; she shunned men like poison, and even kept out of the way of her sister’s friends.
Biberli laughed, as if there could be no doubt of his opinion, and exclaimed: Just wait a while! My master will meet her at the Town Hall tonight, and if the scrawny little squirrel I saw three years ago has really grown up into such a beauty, if he does not get on her track and capture her, my name isn’t Biberli.
But surely,
replied Katterle doubtfully, you told me that you had not yet succeeded in persuading him to imitate you in steadfastness and truth.
But he is a knight,
replied the servant, striking himself pompously under the T on his shoulder, as if he, too, belonged to this favoured class, and so he is as free to pursue a woman as to hunt the game in the forest. And my Heinz Schorlin! You saw him, and admitted that he was worth looking at. And that was when he had scarcely recovered from his dangerous wounds, while now——The French Knight de Preully, in Paris, with whom my dead foster-brother, until he fell sick——
Here he hesitated; an enquiring look from his sweetheart showed that—perhaps for excellent reasons—he had omitted to tell her about his sojourn in Paris.
Now that he had grown older and abandoned the wild revelry of that period in favour of truth and steadfastness, he quietly related everything she desired to know.
He had acquired various branches of learning while sharing the studies of his foster-brother, the eldest son of the old Knight Schorlin, who was then living, and therefore, when scarcely twenty, was appointed schoolmaster at Stansstadt. Perhaps he might have continued to teach—for he promised to be successful—had not a vexatious discovery disgusted him with his calling.
He was informed that the mercenaries in the Schnitzthurm guard were paid five shillings a week more than he, spite of the knowledge he had gained by so much toil.
In his indignation he went back to Schorlin Castle, which was always open to him, and he arrived just at the right time.
His present master’s older brother, whose health had always been delicate, being unable to follow the profession of arms, was on the eve of departing to attend the university at Paris, accompanied by the chaplain and an equerry. When the Lady Wendula, his master’s mother, learned what an excellent reputation Biberli had gained as a schoolmaster, she persuaded her husband to send him as esquire with their sickly son.
In Paris there was at first no lack of pleasures of every description, especially as they met among the king’s mercenaries many a dissolute Swiss knight and man at arms. His foster-brother, to his sorrow, was unable to resist the temptations which Satan scatters in Paris as the peasants elsewhere sow rye and oats, and the young knight was soon attacked, by a severe illness. Then Biberli’s gay life ended too. For months he did not leave his foster-brother’s sick bed a single hour, by day or night, until death released him from his suffering.
On his return to Castle Schorlin he found many changes; the old knight had been called away from earth a few days before his son’s death, and Heinz Schorlin, his present master, had fallen heir to castle and lands. This, however, was no great fortune, for the large estates of the Schorlin family were burdened by heavy debts.
The dead lord, as countryman, boon companion, and brother in arms of the Emperor Rudolph, had been always ready to place his sword at his service, and whenever a great tournament was held he never failed to be present. So the property had been consumed, and the Lady Wendula and her son and three daughters were left in moderate circumstances. The two older girls had taken the veil, while the youngest, a merry little maiden, lived with her mother.
But the Emperor Rudolph had by no means forgotten the Lady Wendula and her dead husband, and with the utmost kindness requested her to send him her only son as soon as he was able to wield a sword and lance. He intended to repay Heinz for the love and loyalty his father had shown him through his whole life.
And the Hapsburg,
Biberli added, had kept his word.
In a few years his young lord was ready for a position at court.
Gotthard von Ramsweg, the Lady Wendula’s older brother, a valiant knight, went to his sister’s home after her husband’s death to manage the estate and instruct his nephew in all the exercises of knighthood. Soon the strong, agile, fearless son of a brave father, under the guidance of such a teacher, excelled many an older youth. He was barely eighteen when the Lady Wendula sent him to his imperial master. She had given him, with her blessing, fiery horses, the finest pieces of his father’s suits of mail, an armour bearer, and a groom to take with him on his journey; and his uncle had agreed to accompany him to Lausanne, where the Emperor Rudolph was then holding his court to discuss with Pope Gregory—the tenth of the name—arrangements for a new crusade. But nothing had yet been said about Biberli. On the evening before the young noble’s departure, however, a travelling minstrel came to the castle, who sang of the deeds of former crusaders, and alluded very touchingly to the loneliness of the wounded knight, Herr Weisenthau, on his couch of pain. Then the Lady Wendula remembered her eldest son, and the fraternal tendance which Biberli had given him.
And so,
the servant went on, in the anxiety of a mother’s heart she urged me to accompany Heinz, her darling, as esquire; and watch over his welfare.
Since I could use a pen, I was to write now and then what a mother desires to hear of a son. She felt great confidence in me, because she believed that I was true and steadfast. And I have kept in every respect the vow I then made to the Lady Wendula—that she should not find herself mistaken in me. I remember that evening as if it were only yesterday. To keep constantly before my eyes the praise my mistress had bestowed upon me, I ventured to ask my young master’ sister to embroider the T and the S on the cap and the new coat, and the young lady did so that very night. Since that time these two initials have gone with me wherever our horses bear us, and as, after the battle of Marchfield, Biberli nursed his master back to health with care and toil, he thinks he can prove to you, his sole sweetheart, that he wears his T and S with good reason.
In return for these words Katterle granted her friend the fitting reward with such resignation that it was robbing the moon not to permit her to look on. Her curiosity, however, was not to remain wholly ungratified; for when Biberli found that it was time for him to repair to the Town Hall to learn whether his master, Heinz Schorlin, needed his services, Katterle came out of the house door with him.
They found much more to say and to do ere they parted.
First, the Swiss maid-servant wished to know how the Emperor Rudolph had received Heinz Schorlin; and she had the most gratifying news.
During their stay at Lausanne, where he won the victory in a tournament, Heinz was knighted; but after the battle of Marchfield he became still dearer to the Emperor, especially when a firm friendship united the young Swiss to Hartmann, Rudolph’s eighteen-year-old son, who was now on the Rhine. That very day Heinz had received a tangible proof of the imperial favour, on account of which he had gone to the dance in an extremely cheerful mood.
This good news concerning the knight, whom her young mistress had perhaps already met, awakened in the maid, who was not averse to the business of matchmaking, so dear to her sex, very aspiring plans which aimed at nothing less than a union between Eva and Heinz Schorlin. But Biberli had scarcely perceived the purport of Katterle’s words when he anxiously interrupted her and, declaring that he had already lingered too long, cut short the suggestion by taking leave.
His master’s marriage to a young girl who belonged to the city nobility, which in his eyes was far inferior in rank to a Knight Schorlin, should cast no stone in the pathway of fame that was leading him so swiftly upward. Many things must happen before Biberli could honestly advise him to give up his present free and happy life and seek rest in his own nest.
If Eva Ortlieb were as lovely as the Virgin herself, and Sir Heinz’s inflammable heart should blaze as fervently as it always did, she should not lure him into the paralysing bondage of wedlock so long as he was there and watched over him.
If he must be married, Biberli had something else in view for him—something which would make him a great lord at a single stroke. But it was too soon even for that.
When he crossed the Fleischbrucke in the market place and approached the brilliantly lighted Town Hall, he had considerable difficulty in moving forward, for the whole square was thronged with curious spectators, servants in gala liveries, sedan chairs, richly caparisoned steeds, and torchbearers. The von Montfort retinue, which had quarters in the Ortlieb house, was one of the most brilliant and numerous of all, and Biberli’s eyes wandered with a look of satisfaction over the gold-mounted sedan chair of the young countess. He would rather have given his master to her than to the Nuremberg maiden whom Katterle compared to a weathercock, and who therefore certainly did not possess the lofty virtue of steadfastness.
CHAPTER III.
Table of Contents
Sir Heinz Schorlin’s servant was on intimate terms with many of the servitors of the imperial family, and one of them conducted him to the balcony of the city pipers, which afforded a view of the great hall. The Emperor sat there at the head of the banquet table, and by his side, on a lower throne, his sister, the Burgravine von Zollern. Only the most distinguished and aristocratic personages whom the Reichstag attracted to Nuremberg, with their ladies, shared the feast given by the city in their honour.
But yonder, at a considerable distance from them, though within the space enclosed by a black and yellow silk cord, separated from the glittering throng of the other guests, he perceived—he would not trust his own eyes—the Knight Heinz Schorlin, and by his side a wonderfully charming young girl.
Biberli had not seen Eva Ortlieb for three years, yet he knew that it was no other than she. But into what a lovely creature the active, angular child with the thin little arms had developed!
The hall certainly did not lack superb women of all ages and every style of figure and bearing suited to please the eye. Many might even boast of more brilliant, aristocratic beauty, but not one could vie in witchery with her on whom Katterle had cast an eye for his master. She had only begun a modest allusion to it, but even that was vexatious; for Biberli fancied that she had thereby talked of the devil,
and he did not wish him to appear.
With a muttered imprecation, by no means in harmony with his character, he prepared to leave the balcony; but the scene below, though it constantly filled him with fresh vexation, bound him to the spot as if by some mysterious spell.
Especially did he fancy that he had a bitter taste in his mouth when his gaze noted the marvellous symmetry of Heinz Schorlin’s powerful though not unusually tall figure, his beautiful waving locks, and the aristocratic ease with which he wore his superb velvet robe-sapphire blue on the left side and white on the right, embroidered with silver falcons-or perceived how graciously the noblest of the company greeted him after the banquet; not, indeed, from envy, but because it pierced his very heart to think that this splendid young favourite of fortune, already so renowned, whom he warmly loved, should throw himself away on the daughter of a city merchant, though his motley wares, which he had just seen, were adorned by the escutcheon of a noble house.
But Heinz Schorlin had already been attracted by many more aristocratic fair ones, only to weary of them speedily enough. This time, also, Biberli would have relied calmly on his fickleness had Katterle’s foolish wish only remained unuttered, and had Heinz treated his companion in the gay, bold fashion which usually marked his manner to other ladies. But his glance had a modest, almost devout expression when he gazed into the large blue eyes of the merchant’s daughter. And now she raised them! It could not fail to bewitch the most obdurate woman hater!
Faithful, steadfast Biberli clenched his fists, and once even thought of shouting Fire!
, into the ballroom below to separate all who were enjoying themselves there wooing and being wooed.
But those beneath perceived neither him nor his wrath—least of all his master and the young girl who had come hither so reluctantly.
At home Eva had really done everything in her power to be permitted to stay away from the Town Hall. Herr Ernst Ortlieb, her father, however, had been inflexible. The chin of the little man with beardless face and hollow cheeks had even begun to tremble, and this was usually the precursor of an outburst of sudden wrath which sometimes overpowered him to such a degree that he committed acts which he afterwards regretted.
This time he had been compelled not to tolerate the opposition of his obstinate child. Emperor Rudolph himself had urged the honourable
members of the Council to gratify him and his daughter-in-law Agnes, whom he wished to entertain pleasantly during her brief visit, by the presence of their beautiful wives and daughters at the entertainment in the Town Hall.
Herr Ortlieb’s invalid wife could not spare Els, her older daughter and faithful nurse, so he required Eva’s obedience, and compelled her to give up her opposition to attending the festival; but she dreaded the vain, worldly gaiety—nay, actually felt a horror of it.
Even while still a pupil at the convent school she had often asked herself whether it would not be the fairest fate for her, like her Aunt Kunigunde, the abbess of the convent of St. Clare, to vow herself to the Saviour and give up perishable joys to secure the rapture of heaven, which lasted throughout eternity, and might begin even here on earth, in a quiet life with God, a complete realisation of the Saviour’s loving nature, and the great sufferings which he took upon himself for love’s sake. Oh, even suffering and bleeding with the Most High were rich in mysterious delight! Aye, no earthly happiness could compare with the blissful feeling left by those hours of pious ecstasy.
Often she had sat with closed eyes for a long time, dreaming that she was in the kingdom of heaven and, herself an angel, dwelt with angels. How often she had wondered whether earthly love could bestow greater joy than such a happy dream, or the walks through the garden and forest, during which the abbess told her of St. Francis of Assisi, who founded her order, the best and most warmhearted among the successors of Christ, of whom the Pope himself said that he would hear even those whom God would not! Moreover, there was no plant, no flower, no cry of any animal in the woods which was not familiar to the Abbess Kunigunde. Like St. Francis; she distinguished in everything which the ear heard and the eye beheld voices that bore witness to