Klytia: A Story of Heidelberg Castle

by Adolf Hausrath

Erastus had heard right. The knocking, boring and hammering betokened an attempt at a rescue. In spite of all Frau Belier's remonstrances Felix had insisted that he must at least provide Erastus with the chance of escaping. Even if the Counsellor declined his proposition, he would have shown Klytia that he was a true friend even in the hour of need, and the consolation which the poor girl might derive from that was worthy of any danger or exertion on his part. This last argument had forced from the brave little Frenchwoman a certain amount of approval, though she refused to aid in any undertaking which might as easily damage as advantage Erastus. But in order to get rid of him, she declared to Felix that if he should bring the fugitives to their house, her chivalrous husband would never refuse to shelter them. The father and daughter could then avail themselves of the transport of merchandise forwarded by the rich merchant and easily reach the Rhine, and from thence proceed to either Bâle or Holland as might seem fit to Erastus. The next thing for Felix to do was to find out in which of the dungeons of the Tower Erastus was imprisoned. With an air of simulated indifference although this was not his usual custom at that time of the evening he ascended the scaffolding, which already reached half the height, and leaning against one of the windows of the young Countess' apartments, he examined closely the Tower opposite. The windows with curtains might be those of Erastus, in case the physician had been treated according to his deserts. But above those he saw a man's figure leaning close to the cross-bars; could that be the Counsellor? Besides who could vouch for the fact of his having been placed on that side? Moreover it was too dark to distinguish any one plainly. Nothing was left for him but to boldly ask which was Erastus' cell, though he could not do so, without exciting suspicion against himself. As Felix was preparing to descend, a gentleman stepped forward from the back part of the room to the window, and said as if he had been watching him for some time: "Yes, my dear friend, I also mourn the fate of the man, who has ever been so faithful a friend to the Italians, and quite conceive your anxiety about the innocent Lydia."

"Oh! in that case the Madonna sends you to my aid," answered the artist, "Pray, noble Sir, which is Erastus' room?"

Pigavetta's pale face appeared at the window and as his sharp teeth approached the artist's ear, he resembled more than ever a beast of prey. "You wish to rescue her?" he whispered.

"I only wish to know in which room the father of my affianced bride is confined?"

"Quite right, I forgot that Lydia was yours, the poor child." He naturally wishes to free them both, he thought, which accounts for his stealing round the Witches' Tower the whole afternoon. The artist passionately assured him of his utter conviction of Lydia's innocence. "Who indeed could believe her to be guilty?" said Pigavetta in an absent manner. "It would be well for me to make use of this favorable opportunity," thought the old Jesuit to himself. "No particular importance is set on the punishment of the old scoundrel, and he must always be an unpleasant witness. Should the old sinner escape then everything is just as it should be. Listen to me, my young friend," he said in a cordial tone, "we are countrymen, let us not beat about the bush. Erastus' life is for me a matter in which I am at heart interested, for I owe him much, and I have wept this very day bitter tears over his child's fate. Confide in me, I will save them, do you also wish this?"

"Sanguinaccio di Dio, whether I wish it?" answered Felix excitedly.

"Good, my friend. Erastus' cell is yonder where you see a light. It is the same in which Sylvanus sat before being transported to Mannheim, where the intermittent fever is killing the poor man. How you are to reach that window is your own affair. It will be my business to see that the sentries sleep well to-morrow night. You must hurry about it, as sentence will be pronounced on Erastus in a few days."

Felix wished to thank Pigavetta, but he had already hurried off to an adjoining room, and the sound of loud voices approaching likewise caused Felix to retire. Now that he knew whereabouts Erastus was confined, the rest did not trouble him much. All the plans of the castle were in his hands, and he had but to fashion for himself an easy path through garret and loft to the high gables which immediately adjoined the window pointed out by Pigavetta. Since his wild excitement had been allayed, the Italian was again the cool determined architect who calculated every impediment. It was of immediate importance to obtain possession of the keys to the secret passage, which led from the western wall down into the town. Well acquainted with the porter's habits, he took the keys away, whilst the good man was devouring his supper, from the board on which they hung, and placed the man's heavy cloth cap on the vacant space. Part of that night and of the following morning he employed in rendering his rope ladder more manageable, and stronger, so that Lydia should not in the end become the victim of his attempted rescue. When the midday hour had summoned the inhabitants of the castle from their work, he furnished himself with a strong wire and a few instruments. Then he quietly ascended the steps of the Ruprechtsbau, till he came to a garret-door. He shaped the wire into a hook, and thus opened the door. Nobody was to be found up here under the garret roof which glowed through the heat of the noon sun. A dim bluish light prevailed in the spacious room and the atoms danced in the beams, which forced their way straight through the cracks, like a host of stars. The artist crossed the dark garret till he came to a staircase, which led through an opening in the roof to a larger loft. He knew that he was now above that part of the Burg whose gable adjoined the Tower, and led through the narrow staircase to the secret passage. A plain door showed where this staircase began. It was tightly shut, but the architect took a chisel out of his pocket and quietly loosened all the screws. In the course of half an hour the work was completed, and after taking the door off its hinges, he ascended a small wooden staircase which led him to a room with thick walls and small barred windows. The iron rings in the walls showed him that he was now in one of the secret prisons. A niche with an iron chain which passed over a wheel told him of private executions in this still room, from whence no sound could penetrate into the Courtyard beneath. "Thou mightest also be placed on this bench," thought Felix, "and the chain adjusted to thy neck, and then the wheel twirled and the iron noose tightened and the victim strangled." He shuddered. How many state prisoners like Erastus may have perhaps breathed in the dread silence their last sigh? Another staircase led him past similar cells. The artist only cast a hurried look into them, and saw to his comfort how none but large rats tumbled about to their satisfaction in the uninhabited rooms. He next came to a heavy iron door whose lock he was unable to pick. Even the rusty screws resisted his attempts. Nothing was left for him to do but to retrace the whole way to his room and provide himself with oil and stronger instruments. Then only was he able to unhinge the door. It led to a strong stone winding staircase, at the head of which was a lantern with a tallow candle. The artist lighted this and descended about three hundred steps. He had with him the key of the heavy lock of the lowest door. He opened it and found himself in a long dark passage, which finally led to a small court near to the wall of the Zwinger. He gently opened this small secret door which separated the court from the street, and then remeasured his steps, leaving the whole of the doors behind him almost closed. Once arrived in the upper gable rooms, he considered, how he could make an easy passage from Erastus' window to the opposite gable end? The safest means to preserve Lydia from any danger appeared to the artist to be, to make a ladder, and then to break a sufficiently large hole in the gable of the roof. His rope ladder must aid in getting from the window of the tower to this opening. After concealing his instruments among the rafters, he turned back to the various garrets thinking to himself how it might be possible to bring thither a tall ladder in the day time? He had now reached the upper floor of the Ruprechtsbau, assigned as rooms to the servants, when he was startled by a voice. An old housekeeper stood before him, on whose angry features he could plainly read the question, what did the Italian gentleman require up here. Felix smiled on her as pleasantly as he could, made her a sign to keep silent and then quietly descended the stairs. The woman looked viciously after him: "He also has learnt that red-headed Frances receives visits. But this very week shall this too amorous wench quit my service," and she went into her room, banging the door after her. After this adventure Felix thought it advisable not to let himself be seen again before the night time. Only when all slept did he repair to the gable rooms, and after having scientifically removed four rows of tiles and smoothed the rafters with his planes, he placed with great trouble but in a thoroughly secure position a ladder, by means of which the poor child could ascend and descend through the opened windows. After he had made for himself a safe position on the roof by removing more tiles, he noiselessly bored holes in the round wall of the tower and inserted hooks to enable him to reach the window which lay some twelve feet above his head. The insertion of the upper iron, which he was obliged to accomplish standing on his rope ladder was not without danger. The wind came howling and whistling round the tower and hindered his work though at the same time it drowned the noise of the hammering. He managed to insert the last hook and the rest was easy work, for he could now fasten the end of his rope to the bars of the window and did not require to entrust Lydia's precious life to the insecure iron, up which he himself had climbed. After he had knotted the rope, he passed his arms around the bars and trembling with excitement tapped at Erastus' window with his wearied hand. He was about to tap a second time when the window was opened from within. "Is it you, Erastus?" asked Felix in a low tone. "Yes," was the answer spoken equally low. "Is Lydia with you?"

"She sleeps."

"Take these steel saws and this bottle of corrosive acid, and cut through the bars on this side. But not here, as here hangs my ladder. The opening thus made will be large enough to let you and Lydia pass through."