Tales from the German. Volume II.

by C. F. van der Velde

CHAPTER III.

When Dorn opened his eyes the next morning, a corporal and six halbardiers were standing before his bed.

'Dress yourself quickly,' commanded the corporal. 'I am ordered to bring you before the duke.'

Having soon become satisfied that no opposition was, in this case, to be thought of, Dorn obeyed. As he and his guards were passing through the streets, he saw many things which went to prove the arbitrary power of the man before whom his own emperor and all Europe were then trembling. Notwithstanding the misery and suffering produced by the war, he saw whole rows of houses which had been repaired, newly painted, and splendidly furnished, that the city in which the Friedlander dwelt and governed might present an agreeable appearance to the eye. The beautiful flocks and herds of the city, driven by weeping burghers, were making their way toward the gates, having been expelled because their continuance in the city was inconsistent with the dignity of a capital. The work of demolition was yet going on in the vicinity of the palace, and more than fifty houses were lying in ruins. To all of Dorn's questions, however, the corporal had but one answer:--'the duke wills it.' They had now reached the castle. The corporal conducted Dorn through the crowd of halbardiers, footmen and pages, to the ante-chamber of the audience-room, where fifty of the body guards were on duty. Two Silesian noblemen, ambassadors to the duke from Leignitz and Oels-Bernstadt, were here waiting in patient humility to learn if the dictator would please to grant them an audience.

At length one of the duke's counsellors came out of the audience-room, and with insolent hauteur beckoned the Leignitz ambassador, who reverentially approached the proud knight.

'What you have delivered to my lord in behalf of your province,' said the counsellor, with contemptuous disrespect, 'he will take into consideration and communicate his pleasure to your duke at the next assembly of the princes. Your complaints against the troops are not deserving of consideration. The soldier must have something for his trouble and toil. In that respect, my lord has far heavier and more just complaints against your duke. The latter has put a man to death who wished to take service in our army.'

'The culprit was a subject of our duke, and a wilful murderer,' answered the ambassador. 'He was executed in accordance with the right and in pursuance of the judgment of the court of Aldermen of Leignitz.'

'No court of justice,' continued the counsellor, 'may presume to punish any one who claims the Friedlander's protection. My lord directs you to say to your duke, that he must send him two hundred infantry from his own troops as an indemnification, or the heads of a dozen of the Leignitz nobility shall be answerable for the neglect.'

The Leignitz ambassador retired with a deadly paleness, and the messenger from Oels-Bernstadt was beckoned to approach.

'Duke Wenzel,' said the counsellor, in a cutting tone, 'has ventured to hang same soldiers of count Terzky's regiment.'

'As robbers taken in the act,' interposed the messenger; 'in obedience to the orders of the generalissimo himself, to keep the high roads safe, and punish all convicted criminals.'

'Terzky has written to him,' continued the counsellor, without noticing the interruption, 'that he has ordered the same number of the prince's counsellors to be hanged, and that he has already set a price upon their heads. Thereupon lord Wenzel immediately complained to the emperor, and the complaint, as was proper, has been transmitted to my master, who has decided upon the affair. He directs it to be announced to your master that he approves and will sustain the acts of count Terzky, and to give an example to the Silesian princes generally, the principalities and baronies of your master will be confiscated and divided among those soldiers who have merited them by their services. With this message you are at liberty to depart.' He turned his back upon him and with a haughty step returned to the audience-room. The messengers departed in speechless sorrow, and at that moment a corporal conducted two well dressed ladies into the ante-chamber. They were closely veiled and weeping bitterly. Another corporal led a bound Wallensteiner, with wild, staring eyes, blue lips and bristling' hair, through the ante-chamber into the audience-room. The ladies now looked up, and, perceiving Dorn, quickly removed their veils. He instantly recognized his hospitable hostess and her lovely daughter.

'My dear Faith!' cried he with tender compassion; but the corporal rapped him upon the shoulder, and whispered to him, 'silence, if you have any regard for your neck. Without the duke's permission no word must be uttered here.'

A deep and awful silence now prevailed in the ante-chamber, broken only by some plaintive tone which occasionally reached them through the double doors which separated the two rooms. An angry voice suddenly cried within, 'let the brute be hanged!'--'That was the duke,' whispered one of the soldiers to another. The doors opened, and the delinquent was again led through the ante-chamber by his companion. 'God be merciful to me!' stammered he, as he staggered onward and disappeared.

Again a deep silence, again the doors of the audience-room opened, and the counsellor cried out, 'the Dane, with the two gentlewomen!'

'Forward!' commanded each of the corporals, and with a firm step Dorn walked into the hall, supporting the almost fainting females.

A tall haggard man, with a dreadful sternness in his yellow face and small twinkling eyes, frightfully expressive of anxiety, a magnificent plumed hat upon his short red head, a black velvet Spanish jacket decked with the stars and chains of various orders, an ermine-trimmed, dark violet-colored velvet mantle upon his shoulders, was standing by his gilded armchair before a table, at which three counsellors and a Jesuit were seated. Six barons and the same number of knights, stood in files by the wall in respectful silence, that the behests of the all-powerful noble might be followed by instant execution, as the deed follows the will, or thunder the lightning. Behind the arm-chair stood the well known captain of the life guards, who met the entering group with a smile of Satanic triumph.

With the majesty of a prince of the lower world, the duke advanced to Dorn, looked at him with his little piercing eyes as though he would interrogate his soul, and in a gruff repulsive tone asked him, 'Danish captain?'

'By virtue of this commission,' quietly answered Dorn, handing the document to him.

The duke glanced through it, gave it back to him, and said, 'a prisoner of war, then!'

'When count Mannsfeld was driven through Silesia by you,' answered Dorn, 'I was left in Oels severely wounded. I there found a charitable merchant who had my wounds healed and afterwards took me with him to Schweidnitz. Tired of the trade of war, I have remained there for the last two years, and served my benefactor in the capacity of book-keeper. Under these circumstances, I leave it for your sense of justice to decide whether I can be considered a prisoner of war.'

'Or spy?' asked the duke.

'My free passport remains with the commandant of the city,' answered Dorn.

'What was your object in coming to head quarters?' asked the duke.

'To bring a scholar from Schweidnitz,' answered Dorn, for your school at Gitschin, and to take back to Schweidnitz my employer's mother-in-law and her daughter.'

'Prove it!' cried the examiner.

'Send to the merchant Engelmann,' said Dorn; 'who must have left his prison last evening; and Madam Rosen must yet have the letter which she wrote to Schweidnitz and which I brought back to her as my credential.'

'Here is the unlucky letter,' sobbed the trembling widow, handing it to the duke on bended knee.

He took it, read, and turned towards the captain.

'We have your portrait here,' said he; 'not flattered, but well drawn. Did you know the object of his coming here?'

The captain replied only by stammering some unintelligible words.

'He wished to prevent their departure,' said Dorn.

'To know and keep silence, is called lying!' observed the duke, with anger. Then to Dorn, 'you have, however, abused the emperor!'

'That is not true!' cried the latter with vehemence. 'He drank the emperor's health with the captain!' cried the trembling Faith, encouraged by her anxiety for the youth. 'I and my mother are witnesses, and because he drank the emperor's health, the captain pretended that he had enlisted for a soldier.'

'Shame upon you!' thundered the duke. 'Has a lord who has all Europe for a recruiting ground, need of such miserable devices?'

'Here is a heretic conspiracy,' cried the captain, 'planned for my destruction. This woman is secretly a Lutheran, together with her daughter. Already have I twice watched their stolen attendance upon the preacher of Eckensdorf. For that reason they have called the Mannsfelder here, that he may take them to heretical Schweidnitz, where they can practise their idolatry undisturbedly; and because, out of zeal for the true faith, I wished to prevent their heathenish abominations, I am calumniated by the apostate women and their accomplice.'

'Heap not new insults upon us,' cried Dorn, forgetting in whose presence he stood. 'You know that you yet owe me satisfaction for those of last evening. You promised indeed to meet me this morning; but you preferred to rob me of my liberty and the ability to punish you for the outrage you committed, by false charges.'

'Mannsfelder! Mannsfelder!' exclaimed the duke, secretly delighted with the boldness of the warrior; 'We also are yet here!' and turning to the captain, he asked; 'What have you to say to this accusation?'

'Challenged and not appear!' cried he, as the captain stood mute, with frightfully flashing eyes. 'A Friedlandish captain! Announce yourself to the officer of the day as under arrest, and immediately afterwards seek for your discharge. You can no longer serve under Wallenstein!'

'Yet the captain's information with regard to the secret church-going of these women may well deserve some consideration,' remarked the Jesuit, rising.

'A soldier should be no priestly spy,' angrily answered the duke. 'I am the emperor's generalissimo; but not his inquisitor. What care I about the catechisms of his subjects. They may believe what they like, provided they but give what they should. I adhere to my decision.'

With a devout sigh the Jesuit again seated himself; and, in despair at the rebound of his last arrow, the captain left the hall.

With a kindness which strangely suited his stony face, the duke now stepped directly to Dorn and slapped him upon the shoulder. 'You are laconic and resolute,' said he, 'I like that; and moreover I must have seen this face somewhere.'

'Perhaps on the Elbe near Dessau,' answered Dorn.

'Right!' cried the duke. 'You are the officer who held the last entrenchment with such obstinacy. I liked you, even then. Will you become a major in my regiment of life-guards? I shall conclude a peace with Denmark at the earliest opportunity, and so your Danish commission need be no hindrance.'

'To the true hero the truth may be fearlessly spoken,' said Dorn. 'I cannot fight against my conscience.'

'I regret that any obstacle deprives me of your services,' said the duke. 'I would very willingly do something to oblige you. Ask some favor of me!'

'I have only to ask you,' said Dorn, 'to permit me to depart immediately for Schweidnitz with these ladies, and also your permission to take back with me the poor boy whom I tore from his friends in obedience to your commands.'

'Well, take the whole baggage, comrade,' said the duke beneficently: 'and a prosperous journey to you! I will cause the necessary papers to be given you.'

The duke kindly nodded permission to retire, and Dorn led the ladies from the hall.

'A happy escape from the lion's den!' sighed the matron with a lighter heart, as she turned her back upon the palace.

What may not one accomplish who is a man in the fullest sense of the word!' cried the enthusiastic Faith, pressing Dorn's hand to her heart.

'I know not,' said Dorn pensively, 'whether I shall have especial reason to rejoice at the turn the affair has taken or not. It just now occurs to me that the dismission of your persecutor from his quarters in your house, removes the evil which impelled you to leave Sagan, and that you may not now wish to accompany me to Schweidnitz.'

'O! we have on many accounts long desired to visit our Katharine,' said Faith with great earnestness. 'Our house can never remain long free from this detestable quartering, and who knows how the next may conduct himself! Besides, I fear the captain now as much as I did before. He has lost the power of tormenting us, and his bread into the bargain. He will soon be released from the guard-house, and a bad man, however insignificant may be his situation, has the power to injure with the will!'

'My daughter's zeal,' smilingly interposed the matron, 'saves me the trouble of explaining my reasons for wishing to go with you. Let it suffice, that we ride with you to Schweidnitz.'