A sob as that of an hart struck by an arrow reached the ear of the enraged Abbess. She noticed how the young Priest writhed in agony. Pity for the poor young man stirred her to the quick.
"I am willing to believe, Magister Paul," said she in a kinder tone, "that you had not the intention to act in the way I saw, and I thank the Saints that they left me no rest in my room but led me hither, before any greater mischief happened. But you see now what comes of all this juggling, which the Wicked one himself invented, to give the heretics a hold against us. The gardener shall immediately bring these pictures and other objects to your apartment. Should such Exercitia be necessary, I shall preside over them in person, as is required by the rules of all properly conducted convents. You will however return to your home in Heidelberg, so soon as you can do so without injury to our or your reputation. I hold much to a good conscientia in all things, and the fama publica must not slander us."
Thereupon the kindly Dame wished him farewell and left him alone in the Chapel, which however he only quitted an hour afterwards quietly, and as one sick of a fever, supporting himself against the wall.
Dame Sabina went at once to see Lydia, whom she to her great astonishment found in no wise so downcast as she expected. Rather did a bright gleam of joy seem to beam from her eyes. "What am I to say about your proceeding, young woman," began the Abbess sternly, "how is it that you suffer yourself to be kissed in Church by the Priest?"
"Ah!" sighed the maiden blushing, "forgive me most gracious Lady Abbess. It was in truth the first time. The Magister means to act an honest part towards me, and my father will have no objection to our marriage."
The old Lady smiled in a hard manner. "Silly Fool, dost thou not know that Laurenzano is a catholic Priest and neither can nor will marry?" But the hard words had scarcely escaped her, then she regretted them, for Lydia gazed at her as if she were going mad. The blood had left the maiden's cheek, her eyes had grown unnaturally wide, the large black pupils were fixed on the Abbess. Then she burst into a convulsion of tears. "It is not true. Tell me. Mother, it is not true?" The old Lady caught the child to her heart. Opposed to the heartbreaking grief of this young creature her motherly feelings came uppermost. "Be quiet, child, be quiet. Thy sorrow is not so great as thou thinkest. Thou knowest scarcely this disloyal Priest. Thou lovest the black man in the pulpit, thou hast never seen the real Laurenzano. That which thou lovest is an image of thy phantasy, which thou thyself hast created. Now thou must efface this foolish idol from thy heart, that is all. Nothing can come out of it. Laurenzano came to convert us. He would be scoffed at, if he let himself be converted by thy blue eyes."
"I will go back to my father," sobbed the poor child. "I will not remain here."
"Thou must first become more quiet, my child. I cannot bring thee back in this condition to thy father. He must not even hear of what took place here. The Kurfürst would order Laurenzano to be flogged out of the country." The maiden gazed at the Countess in horror. The Abbess kissed her on the forehead, undressed her and helped her to her bed. Then the old lady sat for some time at the side of the sick child and told her about her own youth, her plans for marriage, and the rich stream of kindness, which poured from the lips of the usually cold Nun, had a beneficial influence upon poor Lydia. When the Domina opened the door, to go, she saw with displeasure two Nuns, who had certainly been listening, hurrying off. Even in the neighbouring cells light steps were heard creeping away. Dame Sabina immediately called a conventus, so as to close the mouth of those ladies, whose chattering, as she knew, did not fall far short of their curiosity. When her motherly friend had left her, Lydia thought to herself: "This therefore is the use of the Mirror of remembrance, given to him by his spiritual tyrants, that he may not forget, that he is still a monk." She fancied to herself, how he would look in the cowl, under which she had seen to-day her own affrighted face. But the excitement had been too much for her. Her eyes closed and soon she lay in a deep sound sleep. In the next room Bertha von Steinach had on the contrary much more horrible dreams of the pains of hell and the tortures of the damned, and more than once started from her dream calling, "it is burning" and that she plainly smelt the brimstone. "Take away the skull," cried she another time, "see how the worms creep out of the empty sockets." Master Laurenzano moreover, who had caused all this mischief with his exercitia, sat in his room, his head leant out of the open window. That night he sought not his couch. At sundawn he took the little work by St. Ignatius which lay before him, and read out of the last page: "Take, O Lord, my entire freedom, take my memory, my understanding and very will." It was in vain. He could not pray. Troubled and in misery he hastened to the mountains.
CHAPTER VIII.
"In truth I shall have to end up by going to the Hirsch if I wish to see that brother of mine," thought Master Felix, after he had waited the whole of another day expecting that his brother would come up to the Castle. So he set his chisel and apron aside and went down to the Market-place, and from thence entered through the well-known door of the hotel into the back-room, in which the clergy of Heidelberg were wont to meet round a large oaken table. He found the room still empty; the low, arched parlor was only lighted by a single lamp, and at the table sat a stout gray-headed man dressed in black, with a vinous countenance and a bottle nose. "God's word from the country," thought Felix, taking his seat after a profound bow near to the Parson, whom he thought he had already seen somewhere.