At length the exile said, "Pardon me, worthy guest, for having violated in an unmannerly way the rights of hospitality; for I ought rather to have bitten off the end of my tongue than have given you cause to suppose I had thought you said anything ridiculous; but how comes it that you take me for Maxx Stumpf? Do you know him?"
"No, I never saw him; but I know him to be a brave knight, whom the League has expelled from his country, on account of his faithful adherence to the Duke, and that they are now endeavouring to apprehend him. Is not yours a similar case?"
"I thank you for comparing me to such a man; but I would not advise you to fall in his way in the night, upon the same terms as when we met; for Stumpf, without further to do, would soon have cut you up into slices fit for cooking. Schweinsberg being a little thick-set fellow, and a head shorter than me, it was the comparison which made me laugh so irresistibly. He is, however, an honourable man, and one of the few to be depended upon who will not desert his master in misfortune."
"So you are not Schweinsberg?" replied Albert; "then I must leave you without knowing who my friend is."
"Young man!" said the exile, with dignity, "you have found a friend in me, by your gallant, honourable behaviour; which your open, frank countenance has confirmed. Let it suffice for you, to have gained this friend; ask no further questions, one word might perhaps interrupt this confidential intimacy between us, which is so gratifying to me. Farewell; think on the banished man without a name, and be assured that, before two days are over, you shall both hear from me, and know my name."
In spite of his unseemly dress, the whole demeanour of this man appeared to Albert to be more that of a Prince dismissing a subject from his presence, than an unfortunate exile, parting from a friend who had participated in his afflictions.
During the last conversation, the fifer of Hardt had lighted the torches, and stood waiting at the entrance of the grotto; the knight pressed a salute on the lips of the young man, and waved him to go. He departed, unable to account why a man so familiar and friendly in his address, should, at the same time, inspire him with the idea of being so much his superior in rank; he had never felt, until this moment, how an individual, devoid of all the external marks of distinction, exhibiting outward signs of poverty, rather than the contrary, could possess a personal influence sufficiently great to subdue vanity and self-love. Occupied with these thoughts, he retraced his steps through the cavern. The beauties of nature, which had surprised him and fixed his attention when he first entered it, had lost their charm to his eye, and his wonder was no longer excited at the grandeur of the surrounding objects. His mind was exclusively taken up with the contemplation of a subject more imposing and instructive than these rocks, however magnificent they might be. The human mind, rising superior to the frowns of this world, exemplified so well in the character of his unknown friend, filled him with admiration, and proved to him that the dignity of man's nature will force its way through the garb of poverty and the suffering of persecution, and remain unsullied amidst the frowns of fate.
A bright day greeted Albert and the fifer of Hardt, as they issued from the darkness of the cavern into the light of heaven. Albert breathed more freely in the freshness of the morning air, than he had done amidst the damp exhalations which streamed from the galleries and grottos of the subterranean vaults, from which they derive the name of the misty caverns. He found his horse in the same place, fastened to the tree, where he had left him the night before, as fresh and lively as ever; the military weapons attached to the saddle not having suffered from the night dew, which Albert was fearful might have been the case. But Hans had had the precaution to cover the beast with a large coarse cloth, in order to guard against bad weather. The young man arranged his dress as well as he was able, after such a night's lodging, whilst the countryman gave his horse a feed of fresh hay. They then set forward on their journey, and having gone but a few paces, the tolling of a church bell from the valley below saluted their ears, and broke the solemn stillness of the morning. Shortly afterwards, another bell answered, and then three or four more followed, when the number, increasing to at least twelve, spread their melodious tones over the heights and vallies. The young man stopt his horse, surprised at this early chorus of bells: "What means this salutation?" he asked, "is it a signal that there is a fire in the neighbourhood? or may be to-day is a holiday? God knows that, since my illness, I have quite lost all knowledge of time, and can only distinguish Sunday from the other days of the week by the peasant girls being clad in their best dresses and clean aprons."
"That is not an uncommon case with many a military man," replied Hans; "I myself have often been obliged to guess what day it was, when I had other things in my head, which I regret to say I deemed more important than hearing mass. But now it is different," he added, with a serious countenance, and crossed himself, "to-day is Good Friday."
"That reminds me," said the young man, "that this is the first time in my life that I have not celebrated this day as becomes a Christian; it also brings with it many happy hours of my youth to my recollection. My father was then alive; I possessed a tender, good mother, and a dear young sister. We two children always rejoiced upon the anniversary of Good Friday, and, though we did not know exactly what it meant, we remembered that it was only two days from Easter, a season when our mother invariably gave us some token of her affection. Requiescant in pace!" he added, turning away to conceal a tear; "they are all three gone."