“Fairly, Ebbo?” she asked in a low voice.
“Nay, mother, if Jobst did hide a branch in midstream, it was no doing of mine; and the horses fell. The Schlangenwaldern don’t even wait to let them fall. We cannot live, if we are to be so nice and dainty.”
“Ah! my son, I thought not to hear you call mercy and honesty mere niceness.”
“What do I hear?” exclaimed Frau Kunigunde, entering from the storeroom, where she had been disposing of some spices, a much esteemed commodity. “Are you chiding and daunting this boy, as you have done with the other?”
“My mother may speak to me!” cried Ebbo, hotly, turning round.
“And quench thy spirit with whining fooleries! Take the Baron’s bounty, woman, and vex him not after his first knightly exploit.”
“Heaven knows, and Ebbo knows,” said the trembling Christina, “that, were it a knightly exploit, I were the first to exult.”
“Thou! thou craftsman’s girl! dost presume to call in question the knightly deeds of a noble house! There!” cried the furious Baroness, striking her face. “Now! dare to be insolent again.” Her hand was uplifted for another blow, when it was grasped by Eberhard, and, the next moment, he likewise held the other hand, with youthful strength far exceeding hers. She had often struck his mother before, but not in his presence, and the greatness of the shock seemed to make him cool and absolutely dignified.
“Be still, grandame,” he said. “No, mother, I am not hurting her,” and indeed the surprise seemed to have taken away her rage and volubility, and unresistingly she allowed him to seat her in a chair. Still holding her arm, he made his clear boyish voice resound through the hall, saying, “Retainers all, know that, as I am your lord and master, so is my honoured mother lady of the castle, and she is never to be gainsay’ed, let her say or do what she will.”
“You are right, Herr Freiherr,” said Heinz. “The Frau Christina is our gracious and beloved dame. Long live the Freiherrinn Christina!” And the voices of almost all the serfs present mingled in the cry.