“But what put such an idea into his head?” asked Leuchtmar.
“Ah! my good sir,” replied the miller, “one lad can spoil many others. Fine, strong young fellows have been running away from all the villages hereabouts. And now, alas, my Stephen! God knows what is the matter with these young fellows. Wallenstein is their idol, their ideal of all that is splendid. Many have been running away to him for a long time and some of them are now officers. Those stories about him pass from mouth to mouth and attract those who are not bad at heart. Tell them he is a Catholic and the leader of the Catholic army and they will reply: ‘We care nothing about our religion, what he wants is men of courage.’ For several days Stephen has been talking with my daughter Elizabeth. He said to her: ‘Am I to wait here until Wallenstein comes, and then get treated like a mangy dog who is clipped and has to lie behind the stove, while everything is going topsy turvy without?’ And Elizabeth replied: ‘Even if they come into our neighborhood and the villages around us, they will not find us here in the valley; and even if they should, we can run into the forest and stay until they are gone.’ Stephen answered: ‘You do not understand what you are talking about, Elizabeth. Once the Wallensteinians are here in the villages they will quickly find the way to the mills and farms. I tell you they have keen noses. There are many of them who have lost all they had in the war, and they are going to make it up with whatever they can lay their hands on here, and then, I tell you, when we have lost everything you will be glad to see Stephen coming home with his pockets full of gold pieces.’ This is the way the boy talked; and when Elizabeth told me about it, it made me sad and anxious. ‘Take the boy to Schoneick,’ said my wife to me yesterday, ‘and keep him there. Perhaps he will gradually forget all about the war.’ He must have overheard her, for when I was making ready to do so to-day he took the horse out of the stall, mounted, and rode off. Alas! I shall never see him again, my Stephen, my handsome boy!”
“Your misfortune touches me deeply, old father,” said the Prince, “but how could Stephen engage in such a foolish project? We are not at war with any one. Even if the troops should come here, they would come as friends and harm no one.”
“Ah, my gracious Prince,” replied the miller, “the good God thus far has protected this region from the calamity of war, but what about other parts of the country? You well know that even the hereditary Prince is not safe in the capital, but has to live in a fortress. If troops were to come into the country to-day, they would treat burghers and peasants alike without caring whether they were enemies or friends. That is what I say, but you, gracious Prince, of course, know more about it than I.”
Instead of replying, the Prince reddened. He was ashamed to expose his ignorance. The old man read this in his looks, and continued: “Perhaps your princely parents have kept the knowledge of such things from you. Yes, yes, it must be so. They may think their dear son will have enough of suffering without this. Well, well, they are right, the good parents.”
The Prince had lost all desire to go to the miller’s house. He gave the Baron to understand this and both rode off. On the way, Leuchtmar said to him: “The miller has mentioned things about which we will talk later, if your parents think it advisable. I will communicate with them at once, and in the meantime beg you patiently to await their decision.”
Chapter X
The Hunting-Castle
It was in the morning of a beautiful spring day that the Prince and Leuchtmar rode together into the forest. They were on their way to the hunting-castle of Letzlingen, which the Prince’s parents had selected as his summer residence. The Prince had been there during the previous summer and had left it in the autumn with the woodbirds of the romantic spot. He had looked forward longingly to this journey and could hardly wait for the day of departure. When he left in the autumn, the firs, enveloped in haze, looked to him like priests in dark robes standing at graves. Now the trees and shrubs were arrayed in bright new garments. He was overcome with joy in the fragrant arcades of the forest, shot through with golden sunbeams. What a soft, delicious life met his gaze everywhere. Now nimble squirrels frisked up the gray trunks of the oaks and watched the travellers inquisitively with bushy ears and tails uplifted. Again, a woodpecker tapped upon a dry limb, and under a tree stood a deer and two fauns, the slender animals looking fearlessly at the riders with their dark, beautiful eyes. Wood-doves, rollers, and nuthatches enlivened the crowns of the high oaks and firs. The cuckoo called in the distance, and in the clear sky a hawk circled with shrill screams.
The riders were now nearing the castle. The dogs must have known of their coming, for their loud barking was heard in the distance. “I know every one of them by their voices,” said the Prince delightedly. “I hear Nimrod, and Diana, and Ajax. I wonder if they will know me?”
“Dogs are just as grateful to those who treat them well as men are,” replied Leuchtmar. “They have not forgotten their last summer’s friend.”