CHAPTER XII.
When Lydia returned to the Castle wearied and excited from her visit to the Stift, she found her father sitting sorrowfully by the window looking fixedly at the Rhine valley now bathed in the glow of a setting sun. "We shall not enjoy this sight much longer, my child," said he laying a long emaciated finger on her delicate hand. "My opponents are increasing in power, and who knows whether I myself shall not some day be sitting in the round tower together with Vehe and the Inspector."
Klytia grew pale. Had Paolo really sought an interview on her father's account? It was on the tip of her tongue to relate the whole affair to her father, to seek his advice and beg him to speak to the Magister. But then if all being known her father, instead of the terrible uncertainty, put an end to the whole affair? She felt that she could bear this less well than all the misery of doubt. Her father noticed how pale she turned and continued soothingly: "Be not afraid. For the time I am not in immediate danger, only I cannot go on holding my present position. The former hatred of many a man often prejudicially affects the disgraced favorite of a prince." After supper Erastus asked her to read a sermon of Zwingli's, and then kissing Klytia with a certain gravity on the brow entered his study chamber which he restlessly paced up and down till a late hour in the night. Klytia looked after him in fear. What could all this mean? Oppressed, with a feeling of the saddest loneliness, she sat near the window and looked up to heaven, where one star after another appeared, as do the lights of some big town when lighted, now here, now there. The sparkling Hesperus shone through the ruddy glow of the still variegated clouds. "The star of love, gleaming o'er a sea of blood," thought she. The pointed roof of the round tower, and the dark massive fabrics known as the Ruprecht building and the Chapel, stood out in prominent outlines. A light flickered here and there from the tower. Was the once jovial Sylvanus in whose garden she had spent many a happy hour, and whose happy children worshipped her as the pretty cousin from Heidelberg, trying to read by this miserable light, or was he sorrowing for his family? Whatever wicked the poor man might have written, she felt a sincere pity for him, and heartily did she mention him in her prayers. "What a frightful certainty of belief must it be which puts a man to death on account of his unbelief," thought she. She laid herself down to rest at a late hour, but could not sleep. Her father's words kept ringing in her ears, he also would soon be imprisoned in that dreadful tower. If Paul could really save him, and she had rendered the aid of no avail by not meeting him at the cross-roads? She began to weep through very fear and inward grief. The wind howled and shook the scaffolding outside, and more than once did she start up affrighted, thinking she heard the boards creak under a creeping step, and a gentle tap at her window. "If he came up here by the same way as does his brother," stammered the terrified child hiding herself under the blankets. Even in her dreams she felt the gnawing fear at heart. In her nightmare she thought that Paul had attacked her and was sucking up her young blood, plainly did she see him in the fearful cowl of the "mirror of remembrance," his eyes glowed from under his hood, then the head changed into a skull which essayed to kiss her with lipless mouth, causing her to start up with a shriek from her couch. At last she fell into a deep sleep and waking up late heard that her father was already gone out to visit his patients. At table he was silent merely stating "he would be away for a few days as he thought of holding a meeting with some friends in another part of the Palatinate. One more effort must be made to free the Kurfürst from the hands of the fanatics." Klytia sat once more alone pondering what it might be that the Magister had to tell her concerning her father's welfare? It became more and more plain to her, that she would be going against the latter's interest, by simply refusing to hear Paolo's communications. Perhaps Paul had something he might wish to say to her? Perhaps did he at last feel in earnest, anxious to begin a new life, if she would only stretch forth a hand to help him? She said to herself that it was impossible to keep an appointment made on the hills, but it was as if the demoniacal priest had encircled her soul with a rope, she felt drawn towards the place appointed by him. Finally she could endure this no longer. She wrapped her veil around her and hurried down the Burgweg to beg Frau Belier to accompany her. Perhaps she might meet the artist there, who would request his brother to tell her in the presence of Frau Belier what he had to say? But on inquiring at the gable-house by the market, she was told that Frau Belier had crossed the bridge to buy flowers at a gardener's. She might meet her on the way? She crossed the river now no longer offering any opposition to her fate. Opposite the bridge stood a chapel. How willingly would Lydia have knelt in prayer to ask for inspiration, but the Calvinists had closed it, and whosoever was found praying here, outside the hours appointed for public worship was liable to be prosecuted for idolatry. If she could but have prayed, she would have commended her father to the care of God and then returned homewards, but the door was closed. She remained in her uncertain fear. "I must save my father, and him also must I save, yes him, him especially." She would tell him, how wrong it was to try and appear what he in reality was not, and how happy he would feel when casting aside this false mode of life. She imagined to herself, that she had much to say to him, for his own sake. Behind the chapel lay a seldom trodden path leading up to the woods through the vineyards, and thus unnoticed by taking a few side-paths she could reach the spot appointed by the Magister, The bells of the Heiligengeist tolled for evening prayer as she reached a secluded meadow in the woods. Peacefully among high beech trees lay the silent hill, the valley of the Neckar which wound its silvery way between the blue mountains could be seen to a great distance. Whilst the tolling of the bell was re-echoing from afar, a child's prayer came uppermost to her mind. "Dear Christian what means this evening bell. The purpose of thy life and number of thy years doth it tell." But she must now hurry, the sun was already dipping behind the hills. The higher she climbed, the wider was the view over the range of the hills and mountains of the Odenwald, and of the plain now gilded by the rays of a setting sun. Partridges disturbed by the unwonted step flew deep into the thicket. The younger pine trees surrounded the more aged like loving children. Then came a number of clearings. Solitude and rest reigned around the lofty oaks, strewn about the high hill. Here and there a jay hopped across the path, now and then she heard the rapping of the woodpecker, a lively squirrel bounded across the path which she had now reached, otherwise all that was living in the wood had gone to rest. When the shadow of the Heiligenberg confronted her, she shuddered. She ought to have clothed herself more warmly, but she had not left the house to come here. She began to feel afraid. Behind her a great gray bird sprang from out of the bushes and flew in front of her with a screech. When she had gone on but a little way, she saw him flying before her with rapid noiseless flight, only to settle down a few yards ahead of her. She felt uneasy for she knew, that the night-owl meant evil, but her cries and shooings did not drive her ghostly companion away. She would willingly have returned, but was now so close to the spot, and the town to which she preferred returning escorted by Paul, was so distant. When she reached the saddle between the Heiligenberg and the so-called Dachsbau and rested near an old beech tree, she noticed that the sun had set. The detour she had chosen, had been much longer than she intended. But therefore the more certainly must Paul be already waiting, and as she approached the ghostly shade of the oaks, whilst behind her still gleamed the glow of a set sun, she earnestly wished for his protection. On the brow of the hill leading to the edge of the forest she met some wood-cutter, going towards the mills of the neighboring village, whose sails might still be heard clattering in the distance. The men gazed at the lonely pilgrim in surprise. She saw how they stopped and looked after her for a while. Therefore did she hasten the more to escape them by remaining among the bushes. At the end of a solitary pine forest she found herself at last near to the haunted Holtermann. The road from the valley of the Seven mills and Heidelberg intersected the roads leading to the villages of the Odenwald. Many a traveller had here lost his way, in troublesome times many a rich miller from below had here been eased of his purse by footpads lying in wait, and children had seen hobgoblins, will 'o' the wisps, moaning women, or heard the sounds of mocking laughter in the dusky woods. Why had the heartless priest chosen such a spot? In terror she walked along in the twilight. The distant plain seemed like a blue sea, through which the red waves of the Rhine glowed as a fiery streak, whilst the Neckar resembled a great river of blood. Near the cross roads were ghostly shadows. All was still and lonely. No one greeted her. She could have wept through fear and disappointment. But whilst looking around for some dry spot on which she might sit down, partly to rest, partly to wait a little longer, she suddenly noticed, that she was not alone. A startled cry escaped her lips. Near the edge of the dark pine forest crouched an old woman seemingly drawn up in a knot, her face between her arms and knees, who sat watching her with wicked crooked eyes. Klytia could not stir for fright. As the bird is magnetised by the green eye of the snake, so did she meet the gaze of the horrible eyes of the old woman, whom she supposed at once to be one of the beings haunting the Holtermann. At last she heard an evil chuckle. "So, the beauteous Lydia will also gather herbs by the cross roads, and dig out roots at sunset? I knew not that the physician's daughter dealt in magic. Your father threatened me so terribly if ever I did it again. Has the Beloved One proved faithless, he! he!? Shall the old Sibylla help? I have often succeeded beauteous maiden, in cases where fair hair and blue eyes did not avail. Do you wish to try Mother Sibylla?"
"You are the woman from the Kreuzgrund who sells herbs, I recognize you now," said Lydia. "Allow me to come and sit near you, I have lost my way in the forest and would like to rest." "Lost on this road," said the old witch mockingly. "Take in some one else with that. Show me your hand, beauteous Maiden, perhaps I can console you, without your having to dig up roots;" and she seized Lydia's hand, which the trembling maiden resistlessly surrendered. The old woman chuckled approvingly after looking for a while at the hand. "Thou willst live poor, my dear," said she, "but die rich."
"Ah!" said Lydia impatiently, "is this the place to think about gold and riches?"
"Gently, gently, my dove," continued the old woman, holding on to her hand. "In a short time thou willst weep much, but by the time the berries are ripe, thou willst be laughing again. Two will come, a fair and a dark man. Beware of the dark one, he will drive thee to thy destruction." Lydia sighed. "Yes, my angel, he will drive thee to thy destruction, the brown-haired one is the right one, him must thou take, although he is older, but banish the dark one out of thy mind. So--now thou knowest what thou wouldest know, go. I require no company for the business which I have before me."
"Oh, come with me, good woman. I am so horribly frightened," said Klytia weeping.
"Little fool who bade thee come. As thou camest alone, thou canst return alone," and the eyes of the old woman began to flash angrily.
"I will not return alone," said Klytia in a decided tone. "You either accompany me, or otherwise I wait till some one else comes."
"You wish to bottle the night dew to use against summer freckles, so that the white face may not become yellow, or break Liebessamen or gather roots of Männertreu?"[4] Then suddenly bursting into a rage she cast a wicked look at the affrighted maiden and said: "May Satan bless you," and uncoiling herself she left, murmuring deep curses as she descended the darkest of the wood paths, where she soon disappeared among the firs.