“But what is the matter? What do they want with us?” cried the dowagers. “Has the baron given orders that we are to keep on dancing here after his death, or are we condemned to see him laid out on his bed of state? For my part, I had rather be excused. How do you feel?”
“Who is that young man who has just gone out?” said the ambassador to Countess Elveda. “Is it not our young adventurer?”
“Yes, that is our adventurer,” she answered; “some one just handed him a note. It seems that the order by which we are detained does not apply to him.”
In fact, Christian had received a few lines from M. Goefle to the following effect:
“Return to Stollborg, and dress yourself quickly in the costume that you wore at the ball last evening. Wait for us in the bear-room. Clear up the rubbish on the staircase, and conceal the breach in the wall with the maps.”
Tea and coffee were served to the company in the hunting-gallery, and, in about a quarter of an hour, all the persons designated by the major and the minister, together with the baron’s heirs, and a large number of the servants and principal vassals of the domain, proceeded to Stollborg, where Christian, suitably attired, did the honors of the bear-room, with the help of Nils, the dannemans, father and son, and Ulphilas, who had been set at liberty after a few hours’ imprisonment. We may as well say, in passing, that Ulphilas never knew why this punishment had been inflicted upon him by M. Johan; he never understood, either before, or during, or after the occurrence of the events we have narrated, the drama enacted in Stollborg.
[XX.]
WHEN the company was assembled, the major laid before them all the particulars of the scheme for Christian’s assassination. The prisoners were summoned to appear, and comprehending that their cause was lost, in consequence of Johan’s imprisonment and the baron’s death, they defended themselves so poorly, that their denials were equivalent to a confession. Puffo acknowledged frankly that he had been commissioned to put the gold goblet in his master’s baggage, and that M. Johan had paid him to do it.
“At present,” said the avaricious and haughty Baron de Lindenwald, who was the nearest cousin of the deceased, “we are quite willing to sign a formal report, declaring the truth of the accusations brought against M. Johan; but on condition that we are excused from judging the conduct and intentions of the baron, his master. There is something barbarous and impious in making these investigations for the purpose of bringing a suit against a man who has not yet been laid in the tomb, and who, stretched upon his death-bed, cannot reply to any accusations. In my opinion, gentlemen, it is too late, or too soon, for such measures, and we ought to refuse to hear anything more. What, to us, is the individual who is taking all these precautions to satisfy his vengeance against servants, for whom nobody cares, and the memory of a man of whom we can each of us entertain his own opinion, without, I trust, being called upon to revile him in public? We were told about a will, of which nothing more is said; and as it is easy to see that we have been intentionally deceived in this matter, I, for one, am resolved to withdraw, and no longer to submit to the authority usurped by a petty officer of the indelta. I am not the only one here whose privileges are disregarded at the present moment; and when such things happen, you know as well as I do, gentlemen, what is the right thing to do.”
While speaking, the Baron de Lindenwald laid his hand upon the hilt of his sword; and as the other heirs followed his example, a fight seemed inevitable, when the minister, with much vigor of speech and ecclesiastical dignity, interposed, calling earnestly upon all disinterested and honest persons to lend him their support. Almost every one present responded to his appeal, and by their bearing and remarks condemned the baron’s attempt so unequivocally, that the refractory were obliged to submit, and the major was spared the painful duty of using harsh measures against them.