The parson of Stramehl, David Dilavius, related also to old Uckermann another fact, which, though it hardly seems credible, the bachelor reported thus to me:—
This Dilavius was a learned man whom Otto had selected as instructor to his young daughter; "but only teach her," he said, "to read and write, and the first article of the Ten Commandments. The other Christian doctrines I can teach her myself; besides, I do not wish the child to learn so many dogmas."
Dilavius, who was a worthy, matter-of-fact, good, simple character, did as he was ordered, and gave himself no further trouble until he came to ask the child to recite the first article of the creed out of the catechism for him. There was nothing wrong in that; but when he came to the second article, he crossed himself, not because it concerned the Lord Christ, but her own father, Otto von Bork, and ran somewhat thus:—
"And I believe in my earthly father, Otto von Bork, a distinguished son of God, born of Anna von Kleist, who sitteth in his castle at Stramehl, from whence he will come to help his children and friends, but to slay his enemies and tread them in the dust."
The third article was much in the same style, but he had partly forgotten it, neither could he remember if Dilavius had called the father to any account for his profanity, or taught the daughter some better Christian doctrine. In fine, this was all the old bachelor could tell me of Sidonia's education. Yes—he remembered one anecdote more. Her father had asked her one day, when she was about ten or twelve years old, "What kind of a husband she would like?" and she replied, "One of equal birth." Ille: [Footnote: In dialogue the author makes use of the Latin pronouns, Ille, he; Illa, she, to denote the different characters taking part in it; and sometimes Hic and Hæc, for the same purposes. Summa he employs in the sense of "to sum up," or "in short.">[ "Who is her equal in the whole of Pomerania?" Illa: "Only the Duke of Pomerania, or the Count von Ebersburg." Ille: "Right! therefore she must never marry any other but one of these."
It happened soon after, old Philip Uckermann, his father, riding one day through the fields near Stramehl, saw a country girl seated by the roadside, weeping bitterly. "Why do you weep?" he asked. "Has any one injured you?" "Sidonia has injured me," she replied. "What could she have done? Come dry your tears, and tell me." Whereupon the little girl related that Sidonia, who was then about fourteen, had besought her to tell her what marriage was, because her father was always talking to her about it. The girl had told her to the best of her ability; but the young lady beat her, and said it was not so, that long Dorothy had told her quite differently about marriage, and there she went on tormenting her for several days; but upon this evening Sidonia, with long Dorothy, and some of the milkmaids of the neighbourhood, had taken away one of the fine geese which the peasants had given her in payment of her labour. They picked it alive, all except the head and neck, then built up a large fire in a circle, and put the goose and a vessel of water in the centre. So the fat dripped down from the poor creature alive, and was fried in a pan as it fell, just as the girls eat it on their bread for supper. And the goose, having no means of escape, still went on drinking the water as the fat dripped down, whilst they kept cooling its head and heart with a sponge dipped in cold water, fastened to a stick, until at last the goose fell down when quite roasted, though it still screamed, and then Sidonia and her companions cut it up for their amusement, living as it was, and ate it for their supper, in proof of which, the girl showed him the bones and the remains of the fire, and the drops of fat still lying on the grass.
Then she wept afresh, for Sidonia had promised to take away a goose every day, and destroy it as she had done the first. So my father consoled her by giving her a piece of gold, and said, "If she does so again, run by night and cloud, and come to Dalow by Stargard, where I will make thee keeper of my geese." But she never came to him, and he never heard more of the maiden and her geese.
So far old Uckermann related to me the first evening, promising to tell me of many more strange doings upon the following morning, which he would try to think over during the night.
CHAPTER II.
Of the bear-hunt at Stramehl, and the strange things that befell there.