Tales of the Caravan, Inn, and Palace Part 23

Bewildered and irresolute, the unfortunate travellers followed the huntsman to the countess's chamber, which was close to the stairs, and so loudly had the men spoken that the lady had not missed a word of what had been said. She was pale, and trembled violently, but nevertheless was firmly resolved to accept her fate.

"Why should I jeopardize the lives of so many brave men?" said she.

"Why demand of you, to whom I am a stranger, an idle defence? No; I see no other chance of rescue than to follow these wretches."

All were impressed by the lady's spirit and misfortune. The huntsman wept, and swore that he could not survive this disgrace. The student reviled himself and his stature of six feet. "If I were only half a head shorter and had no beard," said he, "I should know how to act; I would dress myself in the lady countess's clothes, and these wretches should find out only too late what a blunder they had made."

Felix also had been deeply moved by the lady's misfortune. Her whole presence came so familiarly and affectingly before him, that it seemed to him as if the mother whom he had lost in his youth was now in this terrible situation. He would cheerfully have given his life for hers.

And, as the student spoke, his words awakened an idea in his mind; he forgot all anxiety and every consideration but that of the rescue of this lady.

"If that is all," said he, stepping forward timidly, and coloring as he spoke, "if only a short stature, a beardless chin, and a courageous heart are needed to rescue this lady, then perhaps I am not unfit for that purpose. Put on my coat, gracious lady, hide your beautiful hair beneath my hat, take my bundle on your back and go your way as Felix, the goldsmith."

All were astonished at the youth's spirit, while the huntsman fell on his neck in an ecstasy of joy. "Goldsmith," cried he, "you will do that?

You will slip into my gracious lady's clothes and thus save her? The good G.o.d has prompted you to do it. But you shall not go alone; I will share your captivity, will remain at your side as your best friend, and while I live they shall not harm you."

"I too will go with you, as true as I live!" exclaimed the student.

Much persuasion was required before the countess would consent to this scheme. She could not bear the thought that a stranger should sacrifice himself for her; she could not help thinking that if the robbers should afterward discover the deception practiced on them, they would take a terrible revenge on the unfortunate youth. But finally she was over-persuaded, partly by the entreaties of the young man, and partly by the reflection that if she was saved she would make every exertion to rescue her savior. The huntsman and the other travellers accompanied Felix into the student's room, where he quickly threw on some of the countess's clothes. To still further disguise him, the huntsman secured some locks of the maid's false hair to the goldsmith's head, and tied on the lady's hat. All declared that he would never be known; while the compa.s.s-maker roundly a.s.serted that if he had met him on the street he should take off his hat without the slightest suspicion that he was bowing to his courageous comrade.

The countess in the meanwhile, with the help of her maid, had dressed herself in the clothes she found in the goldsmith's knapsack. With the hat drawn down over the forehead, the staff in her hand, and the knapsack on her back, she was completely disguised; and the travellers would have laughed not a little at any other time, over this comical masquerade. The new travelling journeyman thanked Felix with tears, and promised the speediest a.s.sistance.

"I have only one request to make," answered Felix. "In the knapsack you have on your back there is a small box; preserve this with the utmost care, for if it should be lost, I should never be happy again. I must carry it to my G.o.dmother and----"

"G.o.dfried, the huntsman, knows where my castle is," interrupted the lady. "Every thing shall be given back to you just as it was; for I hope you will come yourself, n.o.ble young man, to receive the thanks of my husband and myself."

Before Felix could reply, the harsh voices of the robbers were heard calling from the stairs that the time was up, and that everything was ready for the countess's journey. The huntsman went down to them, and declared that he could not leave the countess, and would rather go with them, wherever they might lead, than to return to his master without his mistress. The student also insisted that he should be allowed to accompany the lady. The robbers discussed the matter for some time, and finally consented to the arrangement, provided that the huntsman should at once surrender his weapons. Then they gave orders that the other travellers should remain perfectly quiet while the countess was being taken away.

Felix pulled down the veil that was spread over his hat, sat down in a corner with one hand supporting his head, and, with the manner of one in deep grief, awaited the robbers. The travellers had withdrawn to the other room, but left the door ajar so that they could see all that occurred. The huntsman sat down with an appearance of sadness, but keeping a sharp eye on the corner of the room that the countess had occupied. After they had sat thus for a few moments, the door opened, and a handsome stately man of about thirty-six years of age entered the room. He wore a kind of military uniform, an order on his breast, a long sabre at his side, and in his hand he carried a hat decorated with beautiful feathers. Two of his men guarded the door immediately after his entrance.

He approached Felix with a low bow; he seemed to be somewhat embarra.s.sed in the presence of a lady of rank, as he made several attempts before he was able to speak connectedly.

"Gracious lady," said he, "cases happen now and then in which one must have patience; such an one is yours. Do not think that I shall for even a moment lose sight of the respect due to so superior a lady. You shall have every comfort, and will have nothing to complain of except perhaps the fright you have suffered this evening." He paused here, as if awaiting an answer; but as Felix made no reply, he continued: "Do not look upon me as a common thief. I am an unfortunate man, whom adverse circ.u.mstances have forced into this life. We are desirous of leaving this region forever, but need money for that purpose. It would have been an easy matter for us to fall upon merchants and stages, but thereby we should have brought lasting misfortune on many people. Your husband, the count, inherited half a million thalers not six weeks ago.

We ask for twenty thousand guldens of this superabundance; certainly a just and moderate demand. You will, therefore, have the goodness to write a note to the count at once, informing him that we are holding you for a ransom, that he must send the money as quickly as possible, and that unless he does so--you understand me, we should be compelled to treat you with much less consideration. The ransom will not be accepted unless brought by a single man, under a pledge of the strictest secrecy."

This scene was viewed with the most anxious interest by all the guests of the inn, but most anxiously of all by the countess. She trembled every moment lest the young man should betray himself. She was firmly resolved to ransom him for a large sum, but just as strong was her resolve not to take a single step with these robbers for any earthly consideration. She had found a knife in the goldsmith's coat pocket.

She held it open in her hand, prepared to kill herself rather than suffer such a fate. Not less anxious was Felix himself. To be sure, he was consoled and strengthened by the reflection that it was a manly and praiseworthy act to come to the a.s.sistance of a helpless lady as he was doing, but he feared lest he should betray himself by each movement or by his voice. His alarm increased when the robber spoke of his writing a letter. How should he write it? By what t.i.tle should he address the count? In what style should he write the letter, without betraying himself? But his anxiety rose to the highest pitch, when the robber chief laid paper and pen before him, and requested him to lift his veil and write the letter.

Felix did not know how becoming this disguise was to him, or he would not have entertained the least fear of discovery. For, as he finally felt forced to raise his veil, the robber chief, surprised by the beauty of the lady and her somewhat manly and spirited features, regarded her with still greater respect. This fact did not escape the young goldsmith's attention; and satisfied that at least for a moment there was no danger of discovery, he took up the pen and wrote to his pretended husband, after a form that he had once read in an old book:

"My Lord and Husband:--I, unhappy woman, have been seized, on my journey, in the dead of night, by people whom I cannot credit with good intentions. They will keep me a prisoner until you, Sir Count, have paid down the sum of twenty thousand guldens for me. This is provided you do not inform the authorities of this matter, or seek their a.s.sistance; and that you send the money by a single messenger to the forest inn in the Spessart. Otherwise I am threatened with a long and severe imprisonment. Begging for the speediest deliverance, I am your unhappy WIFE."

He handed this remarkable letter to the robber chief, who read it through and signified his approbation.

"It rests with you now to decide," said he, "whether you will be accompanied by the huntsman or your maid. I shall send one of them to your husband with this letter."

"The huntsman, and that gentleman there, will accompany me," answered Felix.

"Very well," returned the robber, going to the door and summoning the countess's maid. "Just give this woman her instructions."

The maid appeared, s.h.i.+vering and shaking. Felix too turned pale when he reflected that here he was in danger once more of betraying himself.

Still the unexpected courage that had carried him safely through the former ordeal, returned. "I have no further commands for you," said he, "except that you desire the count to take me from this unfortunate situation as quickly as possible."

"And," added the robber, "that you recommend the count most earnestly and explicitly to keep silent about all this, and not to undertake any action against us, before his wife is in his hands. Our spies would give us timely warning of any such demonstrations on his part, and I would not then be answerable for the consequences."

The trembling maid promised to obey these instructions. She was further ordered to pack what dresses and linen the lady countess might need in a small bundle, as they could not hamper themselves with much luggage; and when this had been done, the robber chief, with a low bow, requested the lady to follow him. Felix stood up, the huntsman and the student followed, and, preceded by the robber, all three descended the stairs.

Before the inn stood a large number of horses. One of them was pointed out to the huntsman; another, a beautiful pony provided with a side-saddle, stood ready for the countess; while a third was given to the student. The leader lifted the young goldsmith to the saddle, fixed him firmly in his seat, and then mounted a horse himself. He rode to the right of the lady, while another of the robbers rode at her left side. The student and huntsman were similarly guarded. As soon as the band of robbers were mounted, the leader gave a loud and clear whistle as a signal to start, and shortly the whole troop had disappeared in the forest.

The company gathered in the chamber of the inn, gradually recovered from their terror after the departure of the robbers. As is generally the case after some great misfortune or sudden danger has pa.s.sed by, they would have been very cheerful had not their thoughts been occupied with their three companions, who had been led away before their very eyes. They all broke out in praise of the young goldsmith, and the countess wept when she reflected how deeply she was indebted to one upon whom she had no claim, whom she had never even known. It was a consolation for them all to know that the heroic huntsman and the brave student had accompanied him, and could comfort him in his hours of despondency. They even entertained a hope that the experienced forester would discover a means of escape for himself and companions. They consulted together as to what they had better do. The countess resolved that, as she was bound by no oath to the robbers, she would at once return to her husband, and make every exertion to discover their hiding-place, and set their prisoners free. The wagoner promised to go to Aschaffenburg and summon the officials to organize a pursuit of the robbers, while the compa.s.s-maker was to continue his journey.

The travellers were not disturbed any more that night; silence reigned in the forest inn, that had an hour before been the theatre of terrible scenes. But in the morning, when the servants of the countess went below to prepare for her departure, they came running back, and reported that they had found the landlady and her hostler bound on the floor, and begging for a.s.sistance.

The travellers gazed at one another in astonishment. "What?" cried the compa.s.s-maker. "Then these people must have been innocent. We have done them wrong, for they can have no a.s.sociation with the robbers."

"I will allow myself to be hanged in their place," returned the wagoner, "if we were not right after all. This is only a sham, designed to prevent their conviction. Don't you remember the suspicious appearance of this inn? Don't you remember how, when I started to go down-stairs, the trained dog would not let me pa.s.s? how the landlady and the hostler appeared instantly, and asked in a surly way what I was after? Still, all this was well for us, or at least for the lady countess. If things had worn a less suspicious air in the public room, if the landlady had not aroused our distrust, we should not have remained together, nor have kept awake. The robbers could have attacked us in our sleep, or at least would have guarded our doors, so that the subst.i.tution of the brave young goldsmith for the countess would not have been possible."

They all agreed with the wagoner, and determined to lodge a complaint against the landlady and her servant, before the magistrate. Still, in order to be on the safe side, they concluded not to manifest the least token of suspicion just yet. The servants and the wagoner went down-stairs, loosened the bonds of the robbers' accomplices, and conducted themselves as sympathetically and sorrowfully as possible. In order to conciliate her guests still more, the landlady charged each one but a very small amount, and extended them a hearty invitation to call again.

The wagoner paid his reckoning, took leave of his companions in misfortune, and started on his road. After him the two journeymen went off. Light as the goldsmith's bundle had been made, it still seemed heavy to the delicate lady. But still heavier was her heart, when the traitorous landlady stretched out her hand to take leave of her at the door. "Why," cried she, "what kind of a spark are you, to be going out into the world so young? You must be a spoiled fellow, whom the master chased out of his shop. But that's none of my business; do me the honor to stop here on your return journey. Good luck to you!"

The countess was so nervous, and trembled so, that she did not dare reply, least she should be betrayed by her voice. The compa.s.s-maker, noticing her confusion, took his companion by the arm, bade good-bye to the landlady, and sang a jovial song as they struck out into the forest.

"Now I am really in safety," cried the countess, when they had put a hundred paces between them and the inn. "To the last moment I feared that the landlady would recognize me, and have her servant lock me up.

Oh, how can I thank you for all you have done? Come to my castle; you must at least return to meet your travelling companions again."

The compa.s.s-maker consented, and while they were thus speaking, the countess's carriage came rolling up behind them; the door was quickly opened, the lady sprang inside, waved a farewell to the young journeyman, and was driven rapidly away.

About this time, the robbers and their prisoners reached the camping place of the band. They had ridden over a rough forest road at a fast trot, exchanging not a word with their prisoners, and conversing among themselves in low tones only when they changed their course. They finally came to a halt just above a deep ravine. The robbers dismounted, and their leader a.s.sisted the goldsmith from his horse, apologizing for the fast and wearisome ride he had forced him to take, and inquiring whether the gracious lady felt very much fatigued.

Felix answered him in as gentle a tone as he could a.s.sume, that he was in need of rest; and the robber offered his arm to escort him into the ravine. The descent was a very steep one, and the footpath was narrow and precipitous. At last they were safely down. Felix saw before him by the faint light of the opening day, a small narrow valley not more than a hundred paces in circ.u.mference, that lay deep in a basin formed by the precipitous rocks. Some six or eight small, board and log huts were built in this ravine. A few untidy women peeped out curiously from these hovels, and a pack of twelve large dogs and their countless puppies surrounded the new-comers, howling and barking. The chief led the countess to the best one of these huts, and told her that this was exclusively for her own use; and granted Felix's request that the huntsman and the student might be permitted to remain with him.

The hut was furnished with deer-skins and mats, which served at once for a carpet and for seats. Some jugs and dishes, made out of wood, a rusty old fowling-piece, and in the further corner a couch made of a couple of boards and a few woollen blankets, which could hardly be dignified by the name of a bed, were the only appointments of the place.

Left alone together for the first time in this miserable hut, the three prisoners had time to think over their strange situation. Felix, who did not for a moment repent of his n.o.ble action, but who was still nervous as to what would become of him in case of a discovery, gave utterance to loud complaints; but the huntsman quickly checked him, and whispered:

"For G.o.d's sake, be quiet, dear boy; don't you know that they will be listening to us."

"Each word uttered in such a tone as that would create suspicion in their minds," added the student.

Nothing remained to poor Felix but to weep silently. "Believe me, Mr.

Huntsman," said he, "I do not weep for fear of these robbers, or because of this miserable hut; no, it is quite another kind of sorrow that oppresses me. How easily might the countess forget what I said to her so hastily, and then I should be considered a thief and thus made miserable forever.

"But what is it, then, that causes you so much anxiety?" inquired the huntsman, wondering at the demeanor of the young man, who, up to this time, had borne himself so courageously.

"Listen, and you will do me justice," answered Felix. "My father was a clever goldsmith of Nuremberg, and my mother, previous to her marriage, had served as maid to a lady of rank, and when she married my father she was finely fitted out by the countess whom she had served. The countess remained a good friend to my parents, and after my birth she stood as my G.o.dmother and made me many presents. And when my parents died of a pestilence, and I, left alone in the world, was about to be sent to the poorhouse, this lady G.o.dmother heard of my misfortune and placed me in a boarding-school. When I was of the proper age, she wrote to know if I would like to learn my father's trade. I jumped at the chance, and she apprenticed me to a master of the art in Wuerzburg. I took readily to the work, and had soon made such progress that I was given a certificate, and could set out as a travelling journeyman. I wrote this to my lady G.o.dmother, and she answered at once that she would give me the money for my outfit. With the letter she sent some splendid stones, and requested me to give them a beautiful setting, and bring the ornament to her myself as a proof of my skill, and receive my travelling money at the same time. I have never seen my lady G.o.dmother, and you may imagine with what pleasure I undertook her commands. I worked day and night on the ornament, and turned out such a beautiful and delicate piece of work that even the master was astonished at my skill. When it was completed, I packed my knapsack carefully, took leave of my master, and started out on the journey to my lady G.o.dmother's castle. Then," continued he, breaking into tears, "these villainous robbers happened along and destroyed all my hopes. For if your lady countess loses the ornament, or forgets what I told her and throws away my old knapsack, how shall I ever face my lady G.o.dmother?

How should I prove my story? How could I replace the stones? And my travelling money would also be lost, and I should appear as an ungrateful fellow who had foolishly surrendered his charge. And, finally, would any one believe me if I were to relate this wonderful adventure?"

"Be of good cheer!" replied the huntsman. "I do not believe that your ornament can be lost while in the keeping of the countess; and even if such a thing should occur, she would be sure to make the loss good to her deliverer, and would herself bear witness to these mischances. We will leave you now for some hours, for we really need sleep, and after the excitement of this night you ought to take some rest. Afterwards in conversing with one another let us forget our misfortune for the time being, or, better still, let us think about our escape."