"You ought to be thankful, cousin, that it was no worse," said Albert, as he led the travellers into his apartment; "only think, father, last night, when we stood before the gates, he was exciting the burghers to rebellion against us, for which the chancellor wanted to have his head this morning. It was with very great difficulty I could persuade the Duke to pardon him; and now he complains of the Würtembergers having torn his cloak."
"With your gracious permission," said Mrs. Rosel, the old nurse, and curtsied three times to the scribe, "if my assistance is agreeable, I'll mend the gown, so that you shall not know it has been torn. The proverb says,
'If the young man his new gown has torn,
The old woman can mend it fit to be worn.'"
Dieterich von Kraft accepted the offer with many thanks. He retired to a window with old Rosel, when she pulled out of her large leather pocket all the necessary articles for the purpose of repairing his damages. She entertained him upon the inexhaustible subject of housekeeping, particularly upon the important science of dressing certain dishes not to be found in Mrs. Sabina's catalogue of cookery. At a distance from this couple, at the other end of the room, sat Bertha and Albert, engaged in the confidential whisperings of love. Neither Johannes Thethingerus, nor Johannes Bezius, neither Gabelkofer nor Crusius, though we have to thank them for much important information of old times, have mentioned what these two lovers had to say to each other on that morning. Thus much we know, however, that satisfaction rested upon Bertha's features, expressive of her joy at the near approach of the happy moment to complete her union with Albert.
The reader will thank us if we lead him from a scene of so little historical interest, and of which every one is supposed to know more or less, to follow the path of the knight of Lichtenstein. Having left his daughter to the care of Albert, and his nephew to the ingenious hand of Mrs. Rosel, he himself repaired to the apartment of the Duke. Age had imprinted on his countenance an air of gravity, which at this hour appeared to have received an additional stamp of painful thought, amounting almost to despondency. This man had inherited his love for the house of Würtemberg from his ancestors. Habit and inclination had bound him to the sovereigns who had presided over Würtemberg during the course of his long life. The misfortunes and calumnies which, had been heaped upon Ulerich, had not had the effect of shaking the faithful heart of the old man in the Duke's cause. On the contrary, they tended only to draw the ties of friendship tighter. With the joy of a bridegroom who hastens to the wedding, and with the strength and vivacity of youth, he undertook the long and fatiguing journey from his castle to Stuttgardt, when he heard the Duke had taken Leonberg, and had advanced to the capital. Having entertained no doubt of the Duke's success, he was not deceived in his calculation, and he arrived at Stuttgardt the morning after the establishment of the new authority.
The news which Albert imparted to him as they proceeded up stairs, was not calculated to excite the joy of the old man. "The Duke," he whispered to him, "the Duke does not appear to be inclined to act with prudence; God knows what his intentions may be respecting the government of the country, for he let fall some extraordinary sentiments on the road, which I fear will not be improved in the hands of his chancellor, Ambrosius Bolland." The mere mention of this name was sufficient to raise great uneasiness in the breast of the knight of Lichtenstein. He was acquainted with Bolland; and though he knew him to be expert, and particularly well versed in state affairs, and capable of executing any intricate piece of service, yet he was a man who had often played a deep, if not a false game. "Should the Duke give his confidence to this man, and follow his council, may God be merciful to him! The country is a mere bit of parchment in the eyes of Ambrosius, to be turned and twisted according to his whim. He'll know how to shape and fashion it preparatory to meeting the Duke's eye; but he'll keep the pen in his own hand. But, as old Rosel would say, 'Any fool can cut out; the art is to sew the garment together.'" Thus thought the knight of Lichtenstein, in passing along the gallery. He seized his long white beard in anger; whilst his heart beat with zeal in the cause of Würtemberg.
He was immediately admitted to the presence of the Duke, whom he found in deep; consultation with Ambrosius. The latter was seated, holding a large swan's pen in one hand and a parchment in the other, which was written over with black, red, and blue ink, in many neat columns. The Duke was playing with a piece of sealing wax, which he held in his hand; and appeared in a state of indecision, first casting a penetrating glance at the chancellor, and then looking at the wax, as if it were destined to seal some important document. They were both so deeply immersed in their occupation, that Lichtenstein stood some minutes in the room, contemplating with intense interest the noble features of the Duke, without being remarked. The various sensations which were agitating him were plainly visible upon his countenance and in his expressive eyes. The frown upon his forehead, giving place in rapid succession to a milder expression, bespoke a mind hesitating between an act of severity and one of grace, whilst his companion, presenting him with the pen which he held in his hand, sat before him like the tempter. He turned and moved about like the serpent; and the eternal hypocritical smile, which his little green eyes could with ease convert into the expression of humility when his master looked at him sharply, appeared to urge him to taste the forbidden fruit.
"I cannot comprehend," said the chancellor with an insinuating tone of voice, "why your Grace will not do it! Did Cæsar hesitate to pass the Rubicon? A great man must use strong measures. The present age and futurity will laud your courage in having burst asunder the chains which now bind your hands."
"Are you so sure of that, Ambrosius Bolland?" replied the Duke, with a look of doubt. "Will it not be said, Duke Ulerich was a tyrant: he abrogated the old order of things, which was held sacred by his forefathers; and, having broken the contract which he himself established, treated his country as an enemy, and trod under foot the laws which----"