Just so did the storm sweep over the verdure of the heath, waving to and fro, just so did the sea cast its foaming surf against the cliffs when the ancient Prussians still lived here, who in the grove of Romove, sacrificed to their god Perkunos; when the knights of orders, their cloaks above their armour, and the black cross upon their white mantles, rode upon their steeds along the coast, when the Holy Virgin and the old heathen deity stood opposed in irreconcilable conflict.
Then the din of battle raged above the Baltic shore, as to-day the din of the unfettered elements; yet, how everything had been changed!
What would the heathens say to the towns abounding with churches, which had driven out their sacred groves; what the knights of the orders to the disciplined regiments whose close columns belch forth fire, while flying batteries hasten to the heights to hurl death forth to a distance formerly undreamed of? Yet one visible, red thread never lost, extends through all changes of time. That which energetic and highly-gifted Masters of Orders had attempted for the cultivation of the land, when they made the wide plains arable, protected the marshes against the onslaught of the tide by means of dykes, appointed a secure bed for the streams, was a heritage to which the Hohenzollern princes succeeded, and made fruitful unto the present day.
The sudden breaking of the tempest even drew Blanden's mind momentarily from the immediate emotions which had possession of it, but as the clouds, too, opened their sluices, and thunder followed closely upon the lightning's footsteps as it leaped dazzlingly across the path, then the open air became intolerable, and the wanderer turned into the first tavern.
It was a fisherman's ale-house, whose exterior promised but little hospitable reception. Yet several carts stood in a half-open shed, and numerous baskets were piled up, denoting that there was no lack here of commercial traffic.
Despite the weather, the little windows in the large parlour stood open, and, in the pauses which the thunder made, a confused noise was emitted of men's quarrelling voices, between them the high pitched tones of a woman, who evidently sought to establish quiet in this uproar.
A rain-drenched trap stood unwatched before the door; the horse, with limply drooping mane, shied at the lightning without causing the heavy waggon to move from its position.
Two parties stood opposite one another in the small tavern parlour; gleaming pieces of amber, of the most beautiful pale-yellow shade, lay upon the table; on the right-hand, in the background of the room, several washtubs could be seen, in which the fishermen, with their brawny, naked arms, sought to cleanse the produce of the pits on the shore from the soil that clung to it.
But one of the men had just now left this occupation. With menacing gesture, with clenched fist, he stood erect, his face glowing with anger, and appeared to be repudiating some accusation that was hurled against him by a man with a remarkable countenance, who leaned upon the table containing the pieces of amber. The two other fishermen certainly continued to wash the primeval resin in their tubs, at the same time, however, taking part in the dispute with violent words.
The stranger who, with folded arms, opposed an iron determination to this fury of the Baltic Masanielli, was very uncommon looking. His dress was slightly Russian. His two companions who stood beside him, were clad entirely in national costume; but his features betokened a southern origin.