—“For assistance? assistance from us?” Minna and myself exclaimed at the same moment.
—“Yes, noble ladies, from you!” answered one of the monks, whose name was Hilderic; “a sign from our discreet Abbot gave us to understand, what steps he wished to be taken. He is certain, that the intercession of the Damsel of Mayenfield, one tear falling from her dove-like eyes, one word spoken in her touching voice, would be sufficient to preserve us all! Oh! dear lady, be not deaf to our entreaties! A mule stands ready at the Castle-gate to bear you to the camp, and we will accompany you thither, and protect you back in safety.”—
—“Oh! for the love of Heaven,” exclaimed my husband eagerly, “go, Minna, go! Soften my son’s heart towards his wretched father, and I will bless you with my latest breath.”—
Minna shuddered, while she listened to Hilderic’s proposal and Ethelbert’s entreaties: nor did I hear this singular request without making many objections. Yet Hilderic’s powers of persuasion, and the humble supplications of his companion, the unsuspicious Mark, began to make us relax in our opposition, when the Abbot himself made his appearance, and decided our conduct at once.
—“If it is your intention to preserve us,” said he, addressing himself to Minna, “hasten to the camp, ere it is yet too late! Under our safe-guard you cannot have any danger to apprehend, and in the few minutes, which I passed with him, I took care to make your situation so well known to Count Donat, that you need not fear, lest the power of your charms should produce an effect on his heart prejudicial to the rights of your destined husband.”—
These assurances Guiderius failed not to strengthen with a variety of others; Hilderic also exerted all his eloquence in support of his superior; and their joint efforts were so successful, that Minna was obliged to give a promise to follow them to the camp.
What line of conduct was it now most proper for me to adopt? My ideas were too confused, my apprehensions too painful, to admit of my observing a thousand contradictions in the Abbot’s statement, a thousand trifling circumstances indicating some concealed design, which could not have failed to strike any indifferent person. Besides, as Minna had now promised to accompany the monks, it seemed impossible that I should suffer her to set out without the sanction of a female’s presence, and expose her beauty and innocence to the perils, which threatened them in Count Donat’s camp. It was equally impossible for me to leave my poor weak husband to himself, and resign him to the dangerous caprices of his delirium, which during our absence would most probably return. Yet my blood ran cold at the idea of remaining alone in the power of a desperate man, who had so lately declared his intentions to destroy me; intentions, which in his frenzy he would find but little difficulty in carrying into effect. Part of our adherents had already hastened to the camp, in hopes of avoiding Count Donat’s vengeance by a voluntary surrender; the rest of them had either betaken themselves to flight, or had sought various places of concealment, till the first storm should have subsided. After Minna’s departure I should be left quite alone with the frantic Ethelbert. I knew not what to resolve, and yet it was necessary to resolve on something without delay.
At length it was settled, that accompanied by the fathers Mark and Hilderic I should set forward with Minna, and throw myself at the feet of our enemy. In the mean while the Abbot consented to watch over my husband’s actions; a consent, which he seemed to give with evident reluctance, though the great influence which he possest over the maniac’s mind pointed him out as well suited for the employment.
We proceeded slowly, as those are accustomed to do, whose road conducts them to certain sorrow. The learned Hilderic endeavoured to inspire the trembling Minna with confidence, for which purpose he vainly exhausted every argument of consolation, which religion or philosophy could furnish. In the mean while, I was busied in trying to draw such information out of the simple Mark, as might confirm either my hopes, or my apprehensions. This man, both in conduct and inclinations, was in truth the best among the brotherhood of Cloister-Curwald; but his perception was so limited, that the world might have perished, without his having the least suspicion of such an event taking place, or being able to give the least account of it after it had happened. All that he could produce to satisfy me, were repeated assurances, that he believed the step which we were taking to be right and prudent; but as to what had past between Guiderius and Count Donat, or what reception we might reasonably expect from the latter, I found that father Mark was no less ignorant than myself.
We drew near the conqueror’s tent. My heart beat violently: what was I to expect from one, who had sworn to sacrifice me to the manes of his mother! I endeavoured to muster up all my resolution; I threw back my veil, and followed with desperate courage, whither the Monks conducted us. Count Donat stood before me. I threw myself at his feet, and strove to comprise in one imploring look all that I wished to ask of him, but which terror prevented me from expressing in words.