You may be certain, my dear children, that having witnessed in my husband the tortures of an accusing conscience, I had not courage to run the risque of imposing the slightest burthen upon my own. I had sworn, and was compelled to keep my oath: I even renewed it, engaged once more never to forsake my husband, and only entreated my friend, that she would yield to her daughter’s entreaties not to be separated from me at a time, when I was so much in want of consolation. Habit had attached me so tenderly to the charming girl, that to have parted with her would have seemed to me like the stroke of death; and even Ethelbert felt such reverence for the angelic innocence which beamed in her every feature, that in his unhappy moments I had frequently found a safe retreat from his violence in Minna’s arms. Minna too was resolutely determined to share my dangers: nor was it affection for me, which alone made her unwilling to depart from Sargans. Count Lodowick was soon to rejoin us for the purpose of defending our boundaries against the still encroaching enemy, and I extorted a confession from Minna, that she was anxious to continue near him.
We separated; I lost my Edith! Minna remained with me, and with beating hearts did we look forward to futurity, whose gloom appeared to increase with every moment. Will not my hand fail me, when I attempt to describe the most cruel blow, which ever fell upon my heart? Edith was dear to me; so was her daughter, the gentle affectionate Minna; but dearer than either, oh! dearer a thousand times, was my uncle, my second father, the venerable Count Venosta!
Count Lodowick’s appearance at the Castle of Sargans made my uncle’s return necessary. The young warrior was desirous of discussing in person with an hero of such experience in military affairs, what mode of proceeding would be most likely to produce advantage to the cause of those, whose interests were equally dear to both. Till this business was settled, the Count of Homburg did not think it prudent to quit the Castle, and leave Minna and myself exposed to the enterprizes of the enemy, under no better protection than Ethelbert’s. The venerable Leopold therefore set forward for the purpose of acquainting his ally with every thing relating to the present situation of our affairs, and at the same time to inspire our drooping spirits by his presence with hope and consolation.
Yet once more (alas! but once!) did I clasp my benefactor to my bosom; I bedewed his furrowed cheeks with tears of gratitude, and imparted to him my anxiety for a life so precious! The next tears, which I shed on his account, were destined to fall on his grave. He accompanied Count Lodowick to review his forces; here he parted with his youthful friend, and the path which he traversed on his return to Sargans conducted him to death. In the deepest part of the wood assassins were lurking; his attendants were few, and their resistance was soon overpowered. Count Venosta fell by the hands of villains, as many a brave man had fallen before him; and the dreadful news was brought to the Castle of Sargans by two or three of his followers, the swiftness of whose steeds had enabled them to escape from the massacre.
What name shall I give to my feelings, at receiving this most cruel blow of fate? Shall I say, that I sorrowed? that my senses forsook me? that despair took possession of both my head and heart?—No! no! all this would but ill describe what I suffered. The excess of agony can never be justly exprest; grief like mine can only be pictured in a veil.
I felt only how dear he was to me, how much I had lost in him. These recollections made me incapable of all others; and I reflected not, that his death was the certain pledge to me of approaching danger, and future sufferings. Count Donat was no longer more than two leagues distant from the Castle. No one doubted, that the hand which murdered my uncle, was armed by Donat: how indeed could he sooner gain possession of his destined victims, than by depriving them of their most able protector?—It is true, Count Lodowick of Homburg ... but his youth, his inexperience, even his consternation and sorrow for the loss of his heroic guide in the paths of glory, all tended to prevent his being to us of as much assistance, as he would gladly have been, and as we too fondly expected that he would be.
I will pass over in silence the days of anxiety, which followed my uncle’s death, nor will torture your tender hearts, my children, by relating how cruelly I suffered from terror while looking forward to events, which (dreadful as my imagination painted them) you will find, were far exceeded by the reality!
Count Lodowick fought bravely, but unsuccessfully. His troops were cut to pieces; their chief was compelled however reluctantly to find safety in flight. The most faithful of our vassals under the command of Henric Melthal still defended for a while the approaches to the Castle of Sargans; but they too at length were compelled to give way.—And now there was nothing to prevent the dreadful victor from seizing the unfortunates, who trembled at his approach.
Among the many unpleasant circumstances, which had followed my re-union with the wretched Ethelbert, it was not the least of my griefs, that I was compelled almost constantly to endure the presence of a man, whom I had but too just grounds for abhorring.—This person, whom I half despised and half dreaded, was at that time Abbot of Cloister-Curwald, and by name Guiderius. Had there been no other reason for my disliking him, it would have been sufficient, that it was he, whom the rebellious monks of that monastery had elected their Superior after the expulsion of my friends Christian and Matthias; and that he had taken a conspicuous part against his predecessor, whose dignity he coveted, and whose blameless life made his own appear the more disgusting. Never did I see him approaching the Castle, in all the state and splendour of a petty prince, without comparing his ostentation with the dignified simplicity of my venerable friend; of whose fate no intelligence had ever reached me, after I had procured his escape by the private passage conducting to the mountains.
But the repugnance towards him, which these reflections inspired, was not my only reasons for disliking the society of Guiderius. He had formerly been Ethelbert’s companion in his profligate enjoyments; he was now his confessor and the only confidant of his secret sins, and in this quality he assumed a much greater share of authority in the Castle, than was left to its weak master and his powerless wife. At first I occasionally forced myself to throw aside that timidity, which I had acquired from so many years of suffering, and endeavoured to dispossess the hypocrite of my husband’s favour and of such immoderate influence: but the attempt was always attended with so little success, that I was compelled to abandon it, and submit patiently to bear the yoke, which the omnipotent Abbot imposed on all the Castle’s inmates.