He wondered much on hearing how the abbess had been cured by what Sidonia called "sympathies," and smelled devil's work in it, but said nothing—for he was afraid; spoke kindly to the witch-hag even, and extolled her learning and the nobility of her race; declaring that he knew well that the Von Borks had helped mainly to found this cloister.
This mightily pleased the sorceress, and she grew quite friendly, asking him at last, "What news he had of his wife and children?" And when he answered, "He had no wife nor children," her eyes lit up again like old cinders, and she began to jest with him about his going about so freely in a cloister, as she observed he did. But when she saw that the priest looked grave at the jestings, she changed her tone, and demurely asked him, "If he would be ready after sermon on Sunday to assist at her assuming the nun's dress; for though many had given up this old usage, yet she would hold by it, for love of Jesu." This pleased the priest, and he promised to be prepared. Then Sidonia took her leave; but scarcely had she reached her own apartment when she sent for Anna Apenborg. "What sort of man was this chaplain? she saw that he went about the convent at his pleasure. This was strange when he was unmarried."
Illa.—"He was a right friendly and well-behaved gentleman. Nothing unseemly in word or deed had ever been heard of him."
Hæc.—"Then he must have some private love-affair."
Illa.—"Some said he was paying court to Bamberg's sister there in Jacobshagen."
Hæc.—"Ha! very probable. But was it true? for otherwise he should never go about amongst the nuns the way he did. It was quite abominable: an unmarried man; Dorothea Stettin was right. But how could they ascertain the fact?"
Illa.—"That was easily done. She was going next morning to Jacobshagen, and would make out the whole story for her. Indeed, she herself, too, was curious about it."
Hæc.—"All right. This must be done for the honour of the cloister. For according to the rules of 1569, the court chaplain was to be an old man, who should teach the sisters to read and write. Whereas, here was a fine carl with red lips and a black beard—unmarried too. Did he perchance ever teach any of them to read or write?"
Illa.—"No; for they all knew how already."
Hæc.—"Still there was something wrong in it. No, no, in such matters youth has no truth; Dorothea Stettin was quite right. Ah, what a wonderful creature, that excellent Dorothea! Such modesty and purity she had never met with before. Would that all young maidens were like her, and then this wicked world would be something better."