Edith therefore was compelled to seek safety in flight; the time of her delivery was near; she was beset with enemies on all sides; nor could she doubt what would be the fate of herself and her offspring, should he fall into the Abbot’s hands. In this dreadful situation she summoned up all her courage, and under the protecting mantle of the night employed the only means of saving herself from destruction, which the severity of her fate had now left her. Her wearied horses refused to bear her further, and she was still far distant from the place, in which she hoped to find shelter and assistance. She doubted not, that the Abbot would pursue her; not a moment was to be lost; she quitted her litter, and resolved to prosecute her painful way on foot, unaccompanied except by her orphan daughter, the young and lovely Minna. She ordered her attendants to pursue their journey with as much diligence as possible, hoping by this artifice to lead her pursuers astray. As for herself, she determined to conceal herself in the depth of the forest, thinking she should find there some retired cottage, in which she might recover herself from anxiety and fatigue, and give birth in tranquil security to her unfortunate fatherless infant. As to being betrayed to her tyrant, she was too well acquainted with the honest and benevolent temper of the inhabitants of these mountains to harbour any apprehensions on that head.
The paths through which she wandered were solitary. At length the trampling of a steed was heard; and soon after a knight, unaccompanied, presented himself before the unfortunate lady, who, supported by the powerless hand of the youthful Minna, was scarcely able to prevent herself from sinking on the ground: this solitary knight was Count Ethelbert; he was returning from the chace, and had sent his attendants forward.
The Countess of Mayenfield found it unnecessary to represent to him, how much her situation required assistance, or to explain her name and the dangers which still menaced her. Before she had time to request his services, Ethelbert was already occupied in serving her: his pealing horn soon collected his attendants round him. A slight but easy litter was constructed with all diligence; and before an hour elapsed, the fugitives rejoiced to find themselves within the sheltering walls of a castle, whose strength was capable of defying the malice of their enemies, in case they should attempt to deprive them forcibly of their friendly retreat.
It so happened that Count Venosta also had dedicated this same day to the chace: the sport had enticed him to a distance from home. Midnight had long been past; and I still sat at my spinning wheel surrounded by my maidens, waiting with most anxious expectation for my uncle’s return. A thousand painful thoughts and confused images glanced across my imagination, in which, as usual, Count Ethelbert was not forgotten; suddenly the folding doors of my chamber were thrown open, and the object of my thoughts stood before me, almost breathless through haste and anxiety.
—“Dear lady,” said he, “I come to ask a boon of you. A guest of no mean rank has arrived at my castle, and there is no female there to bid her welcome: a litter waits at your door; suffer me to entreat that you will let it convey you to my residence.”—
—“Sir Knight, are you in your senses? This extraordinary request....”—
—“Is the boldest, the most unpardonable, that fancy can imagine: but judge by the want of preparation with which I propose it, how urgent is the necessity for its being gratified without delay.—”
The Count of Carlsheim had by no means chosen the most fortunate moment for obtaining any favour at all from me, much less one of so extraordinary a nature. In solitude I had reflected calmly and seriously on my uncle’s warning: the frightened palfrey, and the fire so easily extinguished, came into my head; and the uneasiness in which Count Venosta’s absence had obliged me to pass the last hours, by no means inclined me to view these circumstances so much to Ethelbert’s advantage as usual: at that moment I saw him with my uncle’s eyes; and of course this proposal appeared to me as nothing but a most bare-faced attempt on my lover’s part to betray me into his power.
—“You are offended?” said Ethelbert, who read displeasure strongly painted on my every feature; “well then! I must have recourse to a more eloquent pleader.”—
Saying this, he hastened into the anti-chamber, and returned with a little beautiful child, whose countenance expressed the deepest anxiety and sorrow, and whose blue eyes filled with tears strengthened the impression, which was made on me by her unexpected appearance.