"Too much zeal, is an evil thing," muttered the monk, "'the greater hurry, the less speed,' as the proverb has it." Dame Hadwig having reached the entrance, turned round once more, and with an indescribable movement of the hand, now said: "If you wish to go, you had better go at once!"
So he made his retreat.
To annoy the Abbot, the Duchess, on the very same day, sent a golden chain to the venerable Simon Bardo, in acknowledgement of his prosperous leadership.
The fate of Cappan, the Hunnic prisoner, was a matter of special interest to the Duchess. At first he had spent some anxious days. He did not then understand why his life had been spared, and he walked shyly about, like one who has no just claim to himself; and when he slumbered on his couch of straw, evil dreams came to him. Then he saw large flowery plains, on which numberless gallows were growing like thistles, and on every one of them, hung one of his countrymen, and he himself was suspended from the highest of all; and he could not find fault with this, as it was the usual fate allotted to war-prisoners in those days. No gallows however, were erected for him. For some time he still cast sundry suspicious glances at the linden-tree in the courtyard, which had a nice leafless branch; and he fancied sometimes that this branch was beckoning to him, and saying: "Heigho! how well thou wouldst adorn me!"
By degrees, however, he found out, that the lime was merely, a fine shady tree, and so he became less timid. His wounded foot was now healed and he wandered about in yard and kitchen, looking on with mute astonishment at the doings of a German household. It is true, he still thought that a man's home, ought to be the back of his horse; and that a skin-covered cart sufficed for women and children; but when it rained, or the evenings were cool, the hearth-fire and the sheltering walls did not appear altogether despicable to him. Besides this, he began to find out, that wine was better than mare's milk, and a woollen jacket softer than a wolf's skin. So his wish to fly, dwindled away, and homesickness could not attack him, as a home was an unknown luxury to him.
In those days, a maiden worked in house and garden, whose name was Friderun; and her figure resembled a many-storeyed building with a pointed roof; her head having the shape of a pear. The first freshness of youth, had for some time passed away from her, and when she opened her broad mouth for speech or laughter, a single long tooth became visible, indicative of her mature state. Evil tongues, were wont to whisper, that she had once been Master Spazzo's sweetheart; but that was long ago, as her affections had been bestowed these many years on a herdsman, who had met his death in the ranks of the arrier-ban, by some Hunnic arrow,--and so her heart was lonely now. Very tall people are generally goodnatured, and do not suffer under the evil consequences of too much thinking. So she cast her eyes on the Hun, who was slinking about all alone in the courtyard, and her compassionate heart fastened on him, like a glistening dew-drop on a toad-stool. She tried to instruct him in all the arts which she practised herself; and often when she had weeded the garden and dug the ground, she would give the hoe to Cappan, who willingly did what he had seen his instructress do before him. In the same way he followed her example when he saw her gathering beans or herbs, and after a few days, whenever water was to be fetched, the slender Friderun had only to point at the wooden pail, to make Cappan take it up on his head, and walk down with it to the splashing fountain.
Only in the kitchen they had no reason to be oversatisfied, with the docile pupil's achievements; for one day when a piece of game was entrusted to him, to beat tender with a wooden drumstick, old memories arose in his mind; and so he devoured part of it quite raw, along with the onions and leek, which had been prepared for seasoning the meat.
"I really believe, that my prisoner pleases thee," Master Spazzo called out one day to her, when the Hun was busily splitting wood in the courtyard. A deep blush covered the cheeks of the tall one, who cast down her eyes. "If he could only speak German, and were not a damned heathen" ... continued Master Spazzo, but the slender maiden was too bashful to speak.
"I know how well thou deservest to be made happy Friderun," Master Spazzo began again. Then Friderun's tongue was loosened. "With regard to the speaking of German,"--said she, still looking down,--"I really should not mind that so much; and as for his being a heathen, I do not see why he need remain one. But ..."
"But what?"