"Stay," cried Dame Hadwig, "your wish shall be fulfilled. You can look at the room in which Vincentius, our chaplain lived till his blessed end. He also had the taste of a bird of prey, and preferred being the highest on the Hohentwiel, to being the most comfortable. Praxedis, get the large bunch of keys and accompany our guest."
Praxedis obeyed. The chamber of the late chaplain, was high in the square tower of the castle. Slowly she ascended the winding staircase, followed by Ekkehard. The key grated in the long unused lock, and creaking on its hinges the heavy door swung back. They entered,--but what a sight was before them!
Where a learned man has lived, it takes some time to destroy all traces of him. The room in question, of moderate size and with white-washed walls, contained but little furniture; dust and cobwebs covering everything. On the oak table in the middle stood a small pot, that had once served as an inkstand, but the ink had long been dried up. In one corner stood a stone jug, which in former times had probably held the sparkling wine. On a rough book-shelf were some books, and close by, some open parchments;--but oh misery!--a storm had broken the little window; so Vincentius's room, after his death, had been open to sunshine and rain, to insects and birds. A flock of pigeons taking undisputed possession, had snugly settled down, among all the book-wisdom. On the epistles of St. Paul and Julius Cæsar's Gallic wars, they had built their nests, and now looked with surprise at the intruders.
Opposite the door, was written with charcoal on the wall: "Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things."--Ekkehard read it and then asked his lovely guide, "was that the late chaplain's last will?"
Praxedis laughed merrily. "He was a pleasant and peace-loving man the late Master Vincentius. 'Comfort and rest are better than many a pound of silver,' was what he often said. But my lady the Duchess, worried him a good deal with her questions; one day she was wanting to know about the stars; the next about herbs and medicine; the day after, about the Holy Bible and the traditions of the church.--'What have you studied for, if you cannot tell me anything?'--she would say, and Master Vincentius's patience was often sorely tried."
Praxedis pointed archly to her forehead.
"'In the middle of Asia,' he often replied, 'there is a black marble stone; and he who can lift it, knows everything and need not ask any more questions.' He was from Bavaria, Master Vincentius, and I suppose that he wrote down, the quotation from Scripture, to console himself."
"Does the Duchess ask so many questions'?" said Ekkehard absently.
"That you will soon find out for yourself," replied Praxedis.
Ekkehard examined the books on the shelves. "I am sorry for the pigeons, but they will have to go."