CHAPTER IV.
Tell me not of it--I could ne'er abide The mummery of all that forced civility. "Pray, seat yourself, my lord." With cringing hams The speech is spoken, and, with bended knee, Heard by the smiling courtier.--"Before you, sir? It must be on the earth then." Hang it all! The pride which cloaks itself in such poor fashion Is scarcely fit to swell a beggar's bosom. _Old Play._
Up stairs and down stairs tripped Annette Veilchen, the soul of allthat was going on in the only habitable corner of the huge castle ofArnheim. She was equal to every kind of service, and therefore poppedher head into the stable to be sure that William attended properly toArthur's horse, looked into the kitchen to see that the old cook,Marthon, roasted the partridges in due time (an interference for whichshe received little thanks), rummaged out a flask or two of Rhine winefrom the huge Dom Daniel of a cellar, and, finally, just peeped intothe parlour to see how Arthur was looking; when, having thesatisfaction to see he had in the best manner he could sedulouslyarranged his person, she assured him that he should shortly see hermistress, who was rather indisposed, yet could not refrain from comingdown to see so valued an acquaintance.
Arthur blushed when she spoke thus, and seemed so handsome in thewaiting-maid's eye, that she could not help saying to herself, as shewent to her young lady's room,--"Well, if true love cannot manage tobring that couple together, in spite of all the obstacles that theystand boggling at, I will never believe that there is such a thing astrue love in the world, let Martin Sprenger say what he will, andswear to it on the Gospels."
When she reached the young Baroness's apartment, she found, to hersurprise, that, instead of having put on what finery she possessed,that young lady's choice had preferred the same simple kirtle whichshe had worn during the first day that Arthur had dined at Geierstein.Annette looked at first puzzled and doubtful, then suddenly recognisedthe good taste which had dictated the attire, and exclaimed,--"You areright--you are right--it is best to meet him as a free-hearted Swissmaiden."
Anne also smiled as she replied,--"But, at the same time, in the wallsof Arnheim, I must appear in some respect as the daughter of myfather.--Here, girl, aid me to put this gem upon the riband whichbinds my hair."
It was an aigrette, or plume, composed of two feathers of a vulture,fastened together by an opal, which changed to the changing light witha variability which enchanted the Swiss damsel, who had never seenanything resembling it in her life.
"Now, Baroness Anne," said she, "if that pretty thing be really wornas a sign of your rank, it is the only thing belonging to your dignitythat I should ever think of coveting; for it doth shimmer and changecolour after a most wonderful fashion, even something like one's owncheek when one is fluttered."
"Alas, Annette!" said the Baroness, passing her hand across her eyes,"of all the gauds which the females of my house have owned, thisperhaps hath been the most fatal to its possessors."
"And why then wear it?" said Annette. "Why wear it now, of all days inthe year?"
"Because it best reminds me of my duty to my father and family. Andnow, girl, look thou sit with us at table, and leave not theapartment; and see thou fly not to and fro to help thyself or otherswith anything on the board, but remain quiet and seated till Williamhelps you to what you have occasion for."
"Well, that is a gentle fashion, which I like well enough," saidAnnette, "and William serves us so debonairly, that it is a joy to seehim; yet, ever and anon, I feel as I were not Annette Veilchenherself, but only Annette Veilchen's picture, since I can neitherrise, sit down, run about, nor stand still, without breaking some ruleof courtly breeding. It is not so, I dare say, with you, who arealways mannerly."
"Less courtly than thou seemest to think," said the high-born maiden;"but I feel the restraint more on the greensward, and under heaven'sfree air, than when I undergo it closed within the walls of anapartment."
"Ah, true--the dancing," said Annette; "that was something to be sorryfor indeed."
"But most am I sorry, Annette, that I cannot tell whether I actprecisely right or wrong in seeing this young man, though it must befor the last time. Were my father to arrive?--Were Ital Schreckenwaldto return"--
"Your father is too deeply engaged on some of his dark and mysticerrands," said the flippant Swiss; "sailed to the mountains of theBrockenberg, where witches hold their sabbath, or gone on ahunting-party with the Wild Huntsman."
"Fie, Annette, how dare you talk thus of my father?"
"Why, I know little of him personally," said the damsel, "and youyourself do not know much more. And how should that be false which allmen say is true?"
"Why, fool, what do they say?"
"Why, that the Count is a wizard,--that your grandmother was awill-of-wisp, and old Ital Schreckenwald a born devil incarnate; andthere is some truth in that, whatever comes of the rest."
"Where is he?"
"Gone down to spend the night in the village, to see the Rhinegrave'smen quartered, and keep them in some order, if possible; for thesoldiers are disappointed of pay which they had been promised; andwhen this happens, nothing resembles a lanzknecht except a chafedbear."
"Go we down then, girl; it is perhaps the last night which we mayspend, for years, with a certain degree of freedom."
I will not pretend to describe the marked embarrassment with whichArthur Philipson and Anne of Geierstein met; neither lifted theireyes, neither spoke intelligibly, as they greeted each other, and themaiden herself did not blush more deeply than her modest visitor;while the good-humoured Swiss girl, whose ideas of love partook of thefreedom of a more Arcadian country and its customs, looked on witheyebrows a little arched, much in wonder, and a little in contempt,at a couple who, as she might think, acted with such unnatural andconstrained reserve. Deep was the reverence and the blush with whichArthur offered his hand to the young lady, and her acceptance of thecourtesy had the same character of extreme bashfulness, agitation, andembarrassment. In short, though little or nothing intelligible passedbetween this very handsome and interesting couple, the interviewitself did not on that account lose any interest. Arthur handed themaiden, as was the duty of a gallant of the day, into the next room,where their repast was prepared; and Annette, who watched withsingular attention everything which occurred, felt with astonishmentthat the forms and ceremonies of the higher orders of society had suchan influence, even over her free-born mind, as the rites of the Druidsover that of the Roman general, when he said,
I scorn them, yet they awe me.
"What can have changed them?" said Annette. "When at Geierstein theylooked but like another girl and bachelor, only that Anne is so veryhandsome; but now they move in time and manner as if they were leadinga stately pavin, and behave to each other with as much formal respectas if he were Landamman of the Unterwalden, and she the first lady ofBerne. 'Tis all very fine, doubtless, but it is not the way thatMartin Sprenger makes love."
Apparently, the circumstances in which each of the young people wasplaced recalled to them the habits of lofty and somewhat formalcourtesy to which they might have been accustomed in former days; andwhile the Baroness felt it necessary to observe the strictestdecorum, in order to qualify the reception of Arthur into the interiorof her retreat, he, on the other hand, endeavoured to show, by theprofoundness of his respect, that he was incapable of misusing thekindness with which he had been treated. They placed themselves attable, scrupulously observing the distance which might become a"virtuous gentleman and maid." The youth William did the service ofthe entertainment with deftness and courtesy, as one well accustomedto such duty; and Annette, placing herself between them, andendeavouring, as closely as she could, to adhere to the ceremonieswhich she saw them observe, made practice of the civilities which wereexpected from the attendant of a baroness. Various, however, were theerrors which she committed. Her demeanour in general was that of agreyhound in the slips, ready to start up every moment; and she wasonly withheld by the recolle
ction that she was to ask for that whichshe had far more mind to help herself to.
Other points of etiquette were transgressed in their turn, after therepast was over, and the attendant had retired. The waiting damseloften mingled too unceremoniously in the conversation, and could nothelp calling her mistress by her Christian name of Anne, and, indefiance of all decorum, addressed her, as well as Philipson, with thepronoun _thou_, which then, as well as now, was a dreadful solecism inGerman politeness. Her blunders were so far fortunate that, byfurnishing the young lady and Arthur with a topic foreign to thepeculiarities of their own situation, they enabled them to withdrawtheir attentions from its embarrassments, and to exchange smiles atpoor Annette's expense. She was not long of perceiving this, and halfnettled, half availing herself of the apology to speak her mind, said,with considerable spirit, "You have both been very merry, forsooth, atmy expense, and all because I wished rather to rise and seek what Iwanted, than wait till the poor fellow, who was kept trotting betweenthe board and beauffet, found leisure to bring it to me. You laugh atme now, because I call you by your names, as they were given to you inthe blessed church at your christening; and because I say to you_thee_ and _thou_, addressing my Juncker and my Yungfrau as I would doif I were on my knees praying to Heaven. But for all your new-worldfancies, I can tell you, you are but a couple of children, who do notknow your own minds, and are jesting away the only leisure given youto provide for your own happiness. Nay, frown not, my sweet MistressBaroness; I have looked at Mount Pilatus too often, to fear a gloomybrow."
"Peace, Annette," said her mistress, "or quit the room."
"Were I not more your friend than I am my own," said the headstrongand undaunted Annette, "I would quit the room, and the castle to boot,and leave you to hold your house here, with your amiable seneschal,Ital Schreckenwald."
"If not for love, yet for shame, for charity, be silent, or leave theroom."
"Nay," said Annette, "my bolt is shot, and I have but hinted at whatall upon Geierstein Green said, the night when the bow of Buttisholzwas bended. You know what the old saw says"----
"Peace! peace, for Heaven's sake, or I must needs fly!" said the youngBaroness.
"Nay, then," said Annette, considerably changing her tone, as ifafraid that her mistress should actually retire, "if you must fly,necessity must have its course. I know no one who can follow. Thismistress of mine, Seignor Arthur, would require for her attendant, nota homely girl of flesh and blood like myself, but a waiting-woman withsubstance composed of gossamer, and breath supplied by the spirit ofether. Would you believe it--It is seriously held by many, that shepartakes of the race of spirits of the elements, which makes her somuch more bashful than maidens of this every-day world."
Anne of Geierstein seemed rather glad to lead away the conversationfrom the turn which her wayward maiden had given to it, and to turn iton more indifferent subjects, though these were still personal toherself.
"Seignor Arthur," she said, "thinks, perhaps, he has some room tonourish some such strange suspicion as your heedless folly expresses,and some fools believe, both in Germany and Switzerland. Confess,Seignor Arthur, you thought strangely of me when I passed your guardupon the bridge of Graffs-lust, on the night last past."
The recollection of the circumstances which had so greatly surprisedhim at the time so startled Arthur that it was with some difficulty hecommanded himself, so as to attempt an answer at all; and what he didsay on the occasion was broken and unconnected.
"I did hear, I own--that is, Rudolph Donnerhugel reported--But that Ibelieved that you, gentle lady, were other than a Christianmaiden"----
"Nay, if Rudolph were the reporter," said Annette, "you would hearthe worst of my lady and her lineage, that is certain. He is one ofthose prudent personages who depreciate and find fault with the goodshe has thoughts of purchasing, in order to deter other offerers. Yes,he told you a fine goblin story, I warrant you, of my lady'sgrandmother; and truly, it so happened, that the circumstances of thecase gave, I dare say, some colour in your eyes to"----
"Not so, Annette," answered Arthur; "whatever might be said of yourlady that sounded uncouth and strange, fell to the ground asincredible."
"Not quite so much so, I fancy," interrupted Annette, without heedingsign or frown. "I strongly suspect I should have had much more troublein dragging you hither to this castle, had you known you wereapproaching the haunt of the Nymph of the Fire, the Salamander, asthey call her, not to mention the shock of again seeing the descendantof that Maiden of the Fiery Mantle."
"Peace, once more, Annette," said her mistress; "since Fate hasoccasioned this meeting, let us not neglect the opportunity todisabuse our English friend of the absurd report he has listened to,with doubt and wonder perhaps, but not with absolute incredulity.
"Seignor Arthur Philipson," she proceeded, "it is true my grandfather,by the mother's side, Baron Herman of Arnheim, was a man of greatknowledge in abstruse sciences. He was also a presiding judge of atribunal of which you must have heard, called the Holy Vehme. Onenight a stranger, closely pursued by the agents of that body, which"(crossing herself) "it is not safe even to name, arrived at the castleand craved his protection, and the rights of hospitality. Mygrandfather, finding the advance which the stranger had made to therank of Adept, gave him his protection, and became bail to deliver himto answer the charge against him, for a year and a day, which delay hewas, it seems, entitled to require on his behalf. They studiedtogether during that term, and pushed their researches into themysteries of nature, as far, in all probability, as men have the powerof urging them. When the fatal day drew nigh on which the guest mustpart from his host, he asked permission to bring his daughter to thecastle, that they might exchange a last farewell. She was introducedwith much secrecy, and after some days, finding that her father's fatewas so uncertain, the Baron, with the sage's consent, agreed to givethe forlorn maiden refuge in his castle, hoping to obtain from hersome additional information concerning the languages and the wisdom ofthe East. Dannischemend, her father, left this castle, to go to renderhimself up to the Vehme-gericht at Fulda. The result is unknown;perhaps he was saved by Baron Arnheim's testimony, perhaps he wasgiven up to the steel and the cord. On such matters, who dare speak?
"The fair Persian became the wife of her guardian and protector. Amidmany excellences, she had one peculiarity allied to imprudence. Sheavailed herself of her foreign dress and manners, as well as of abeauty which was said to have been marvellous, and an agility seldomequalled, to impose upon and terrify the ignorant German ladies, who,hearing her speak Persian and Arabic, were already disposed toconsider her as over closely connected with unlawful arts. She was ofa fanciful and imaginative disposition, and delighted to place herselfin such colours and circumstances as might confirm their mostridiculous suspicions, which she considered only as matter of sport.There was no end to the stories to which she gave rise. Her firstappearance in the castle was said to be highly picturesque, and tohave inferred something of the marvellous. With the levity of a child,she had some childish passions, and while she encouraged the growthand circulation of the most extraordinary legends amongst some of theneighbourhood, she entered into disputes with persons of her ownquality concerning rank and precedence, on which the ladies ofWestphalia have at all times set great store. This cost her her life;for, on the morning of the christening of my poor mother, the Baronessof Arnheim died suddenly, even while a splendid company was assembledin the castle chapel to witness the ceremony. It was believed that shedied of poison, administered by the Baroness Steinfeldt, with whom shewas engaged in a bitter quarrel, entered into chiefly on behalf of herfriend and companion, the Countess Waldstetten."
"And the opal gem?--and the sprinkling with water?" said ArthurPhilipson.
"Ah!" replied the young Baroness, "I see you desire to hear the realtruth of my family history, of which you have yet learned only theromantic legend.--The sprinkling of water was necessarily had recourseto, on my ancestress's first swoon. As for the opal, I have hea
rd thatit did indeed grow pale, but only because it is said to be the natureof that noble gem, on the approach of poison. Some part of the quarrelwith the Baroness Steinfeldt was about the right of the Persianmaiden to wear this stone, which an ancestor of my family won inbattle from the Soldan of Trebizond. All these things were confused inpopular tradition, and the real facts turned into a fairy tale."
"But you have said nothing," suggested Arthur Philipson, "on--on"----
"On what?" said his hostess.
"On your appearance last night."
"Is it possible," said she, "that a man of sense, and an Englishman,cannot guess at the explanation which I have to give, though not,perhaps, very distinctly? My father, you are aware, has been a busyman in a disturbed country, and has incurred the hatred of manypowerful persons. He is, therefore, obliged to move in secret, andavoid unnecessary observation. He was, besides, averse to meet hisbrother, the Landamman. I was therefore told, on our entering Germany,that I was to expect a signal where and when to join him,--the tokenwas to be a small crucifix of bronze, which had belonged to my poormother. In my apartment at Graffs-lust I found the token, with a notefrom my father, making me acquainted with a secret passage proper tosuch places, which, though it had the appearance of being blocked up,was in fact very slightly barricaded. By this I was instructed to passto the gate, make my escape into the woods, and meet my father at aplace appointed there."
"A wild and perilous adventure," said Arthur.
"I have never been so much shocked," continued the maiden, "as atreceiving this summons, compelling me to steal away from my kind andaffectionate uncle, and go I knew not whither. Yet compliance wasabsolutely necessary. The place of meeting was plainly pointed out. Amidnight walk, in the neighbourhood of protection, was to me a trifle;but the precaution of posting sentinels at the gate might haveinterfered with my purpose, had I not mentioned it to some of my eldercousins, the Biedermans, who readily agreed to let me pass and repassunquestioned. But you know my cousins; honest and kind-hearted, theyare of a rude way of thinking, and as incapable of feeling a generousdelicacy as--some other persons."--(Here there was a glance towardsAnnette Veilchen.)--"They exacted from me, that I should concealmyself and my purpose from Sigismund; and as they are always makingsport with the simple youth, they insisted that I should pass him insuch a manner as might induce him to believe that I was a spiritualapparition, and out of his terrors for supernatural beings theyexpected to have much amusement. I was obliged to secure theirconnivance at my escape on their own terms; and, indeed, I was toomuch grieved at the prospect of quitting my kind uncle to think muchof anything else. Yet my surprise was considerable, when, contrary toexpectation, I found you on the bridge as sentinel, instead of mycousin Sigismund. Your own ideas I ask not for."
"They were those of a fool," said Arthur, "of a thrice-sodden fool.Had I been aught else, I would have offered my escort. My sword"----
"I could not have accepted your protection," said Anne, calmly. "Mymission was in every respect a secret one. I met my father--someintercourse had taken place betwixt him and Rudolph Donnerhugel, whichinduced him to alter his purpose of carrying me away with him lastnight. I joined him, however, early this morning, while Annette actedfor a time my part amongst the Swiss pilgrims. My father desired thatit should not be known when or with whom I left my uncle and hisescort. I need scarce remind you, that I saw you in the dungeon."
"You were the preserver of my life," said the youth,--"the restorer ofmy liberty."
"Ask me not the reason of my silence. I was then acting under theagency of others, not under mine own. Your escape was effected, inorder to establish a communication betwixt the Swiss without thefortress and the soldiers within. After the alarm at La Ferette, Ilearned from Sigismund Biederman that a party of banditti werepursuing your father and you, with a view to pillage and robbery. Myfather had furnished me with the means of changing Anne of Geiersteininto a German maiden of quality. I set out instantly, and glad I am tohave given you a hint which might free you from danger."
"But my father?" said Arthur.
"I have every reason to hope he is well and safe," answered the younglady. "More than I were eager to protect both you and him--poorSigismund amongst the first.--And now, my friend, these mysteriesexplained, it is time we part, and for ever."
"Part!--and for ever!" repeated the youth, in a voice like a dyingecho.
"It is our fate," said the maiden. "I appeal to you if it is not yourduty--I tell you it is mine. You will depart with early dawn toStrasburg--and--and--we never meet again."
With an ardour of passion which he could not repress, Arthur Philipsonthrew himself at the feet of the maiden, whose faltering tone hadclearly expressed that she felt deeply in uttering the words. Shelooked round for Annette, but Annette had disappeared at this mostcritical moment; and her mistress for a second or two was not perhapssorry for her absence.
"Rise," she said, "Arthur--rise. You must not give way to feelingsthat might be fatal to yourself and me."
"Hear me, lady, before I bid you adieu, and for ever--the word of acriminal is heard, though he plead the worst cause--I am a beltedknight, and the son and heir of an Earl, whose name has been spreadthroughout England and France, and wherever valour has had fame."
"Alas!" said she, faintly, "I have but too long suspected what you nowtell me--Rise, I pray you, rise."
"Never till you hear me," said the youth, seizing one of her hands,which trembled, but hardly could be said to struggle in hisgrasp.--"Hear me," he said, with the enthusiasm of first love, whenthe obstacles of bashfulness and diffidence are surmounted,--"Myfather and I are--I acknowledge it--bound on a most hazardous anddoubtful expedition. You will very soon learn its issue for good orbad. If it succeed, you shall hear of me in my own character--If Ifall, I must--I will--I do claim a tear from Anne of Geierstein. If Iescape, I have yet a horse, a lance, and a sword; and you shall hearnobly of him whom you have thrice protected from imminent danger."
"Arise--arise," repeated the maiden, whose tears began to flow fast,as, struggling to raise her lover, they fell thick upon his head andface. "I have heard enough--to listen to more were indeed madness,both for you and myself."
"Yet one single word," added the youth; "while Arthur has a heart, itbeats for you--while Arthur can wield an arm, it strikes for you, andin your cause."
Annette now rushed into the room.
"Away, away!" she cried--"Schreckenwald has returned from the villagewith some horrible tidings, and I fear me he comes this way."
Arthur had started to his feet at the first signal of alarm.
"If there is danger near your lady, Annette, there is at least onefaithful friend by her side."
Annette looked anxiously at her mistress.
"But Schreckenwald," she said--"Schreckenwald, your father'ssteward--his confidant.--Oh, think better of it--I can hide Arthursomewhere."
The noble-minded girl had already resumed her composure, and repliedwith dignity,--"I have done nothing," she said, "to offend my father.If Schreckenwald be my father's steward, he is my vassal. I hide noguest to conciliate him. Sit down" (addressing Arthur), "and let usreceive this man.--Introduce him instantly, Annette, and let us hearhis tidings--and bid him remember, that when he speaks to me headdresses his mistress."
Arthur resumed his seat, still more proud of his choice from the nobleand fearless spirit displayed by one who had so lately shown herselfsensible to the gentlest feelings of the female sex.
Annette, assuming courage from her mistress's dauntless demeanour,clapped her hands together as she left the room, saying, but in a lowvoice, "I see that after all it is something to be a Baroness, if onecan assert her dignity conformingly. How could I be so much frightenedfor this rude man!"