Ekkehard Volume Ii Part 9

"We must to horse!" echoed the chamberlain fiercely.

"And demand even to-day that the Abbot of Reichenau, shall pay us both damages and fine, for the peace which has been broken; as well as give us all possible satisfaction. Our sovereign rights shall not be trampled upon, by monastic insolence!"

"Shall not be trampled upon, by monastic insolence!" repeated Master Spazzo, still fiercer than before.

Seldom had he entered on a mission which was more to his taste. "We will mount, Sir Abbot!" cried he, going up to his room to make the necessary preparations.

His green velvet waistcoat and gold-bordered chamberlain's mantle, he quietly left in his wardrobe, choosing instead, an old and shabby grey suit. After having donned this, he put on the large greaves, which he had worn on the day of the battle. Fastening on them the biggest spurs he possessed, he tramped up and down a few times, to try their effect.

Finally he stuck three waving feathers in his steel-cap, and hung his sword over his shoulders. Thus arrayed, he came down into the courtyard.

"Do look at me, most lovely maiden Praxedis," said he to the Greek, "and tell me what sort of expression, my face wears now?" He had pushed the steel cap towards his left ear, and haughtily turned his head over his right shoulder.

"A most insolent one, indeed, Sir Chamberlain!" was the reply.

"Then 'tis all right," said Master Spazzo, mounting his steed. A moment later he cantered out by the castle-gate, so that he made the sparks fly about; having the pleasant conviction, that this time, insolence was his bounden duty.

On the way, he practised the part he was going to act. The storm had thrown down a fir-tree, to the roots of which the torn-up earth was still clinging. Its mighty branches blocked up the way.

"Out of the way, ecclesiastical blockhead!" called out Master Spazzo to the fir-tree, and when it did not move, he drew his sword.

"Forwards Falada," spurring his steed, so that it jumped over the tree, in one flying leap. Whilst the animal was performing this feat, Master Spazzo gave a good cut at the branches, so as to make the twigs fly about.

In less than an hour and a half, he had reached the cloister-gate. The small strip of land, which at low tide, linked the sh.o.r.e with the island, was now above water, thus affording a pa.s.sage. A serving brother opened the door for him. It was about dinner-time. The imbecile Heribald, quickly came out of the convent-garden, to satisfy his curiosity with regard to the strange horseman. He pressed up close to the horse, when Master Spazzo dismounted. The watch-dog, furiously barking, dragged at his chain, to get at the steed, so that the animal reared back, and Master Spazzo almost came to grief. When he had safely alighted, he seized his scabbard, and dealt Heribald a blow over the back.

"It is not meant for you," cried he, stroking his beard, "it is for the watch-dog. Pa.s.s it on!"

Heribald stood there, perfectly aghast, and rubbed his shoulder.

"Holy Pirmin!" wailed he.

"To-day there is no holy Pirmin whatever," said Master Spazzo in a most decisive tone.

Then Heribald laughed, as if he knew his customer now.

"Heigho, gracious lord, the Huns have also been here, and there was n.o.body but Heribald to receive them; but they did not speak to him so wickedly as that."

"The Huns, are no ducal chamberlains, fool!" Master Spazzo replied haughtily.

In Heribald's weak mind, the idea began to dawn, that the Huns might not be the worst guests, on German ground. He held his tongue, however, and returned to the garden, where he plucked some sage leaves and rubbed his back with them.

Master Spazzo strode over the cloister-yard to the gate, which, through the cross-pa.s.sage, led into the interior. He had a.s.sumed his heaviest tread. The bell that announced dinner was just ringing. One of the brothers now came quickly across the yard. Him, Master Spazzo now seized by his garment.

"Call down the Abbot!" said he. The monk looked at him in mute astonishment; then, casting a side look at the chamberlain's worn hunting-suit, he replied: "It is the hour for our mid-day meal. If you are invited, which however seems rather doubtful to me,"--with another ironical look, at Master Spazzo's outward man, ... but he was spared the end of his sentence, for the chamberlain dealt the hungry brother such a genuine cuff, that he was sent reeling into the yard again, like a well thrown shuttle-c.o.c.k. The mid-day sun shone on the smooth tonsure of the prostrate man.

The Abbot had already been informed of the violent a.s.sault, which the convent-farmer had made on one of the d.u.c.h.ess's subjects. He now heard the noise in the courtyard and on stepping up to the window, he was just in time to see the pious brother Ivo, sent flying out into the yard. "Happy is he, who knows the secret causes of things," says Virgil, and Abbot Wazmann was in that happy condition. He had seen Master Spazzo's feathers nodding over at him with a threatening aspect, from out the sombre cross-pa.s.sage.

"Call down the Abbot!" was again shouted up from the courtyard, so that the panes of the little cell-windows vibrated.

Meanwhile, the soup was getting cold in the refectory, so that the a.s.sembled brotherhood at last fell to, without waiting any longer for the Abbot.

Abbot Wazmann had sent for Rudimann the cellarer. "All this annoyance, we surely owe to that green-beak of St. Gall! Oh, Gunzo, Gunzo! No one ought to wish ill to his neighbour, but still I cannot help revolving in my mind, whether our strong-handed yeomen, had not done better to hurl their stones at that hypocrite Ekkehard, rather than at the Hunnic wizard!"

A monk now shyly entered the Abbot's room.

"You are desired to come down," said he in low accents. "There is somebody down stairs, who shouts and commands, like a mighty man."

Then the Abbot said to Rudimann the cellarer: "It must be very bad weather, with the d.u.c.h.ess. I know the chamberlain, and that he is a perfect weather-c.o.c.k. Whenever his mistress wears a smile round her haughty lips, then he laughs with his whole face, and when clouds have gathered on her forehead, then a downright thunderstorm will explode with him" ...

"... and the lightning precedes the thunder," added Rudimann. Heavy steps were now heard approaching.

"There's no time to be lost," said the Abbot. "Set out as quickly as you can, Cellarer, and express our deep regret to the d.u.c.h.ess. Take some silver coins out of the convent-box, as smart-money for the wounded man, and say that we will have prayers offered for his recovery. Get along! you are his G.o.d-father and a clever man."

"It will be rather a difficult task," said Rudimann. "She is sure to be downright exasperated."

"Take her some present," said the Abbot. "Children and women are easily bribed."

"What sort of a present?" Rudimann was about to ask, when the door was thrown open, and Master Spazzo came in. His face wore the right expression.

"By the life of my d.u.c.h.ess!!" exclaimed he. "Has the Abbot of this rats' nest, poured lead into his ears, or has the gout got hold of his feet, that he does not come down to receive his visitors?"

"We are taken by surprise," said the Abbot. "Let me welcome you now."

He lifted his right forefinger to give him the blessing.

"I need no such welcome!" returned Master Spazzo. "The Devil is the patron-saint of this day. We have been insulted, grossly insulted! We exact a fine; two hundred pounds of silver at the least. Out with it!

Murder and rebellion! The sovereign rights shall not be trampled upon, by monastic insolence! We are an amba.s.sador!"

He rattled his spurs on the floor.

"Excuse me," said the Abbot, "we could not recognize the amba.s.sador's garb in your grey jacket."

"By the camel's-hair coat, of St. John the Baptist!" flared up Master Spazzo, "and if I were to come to you in my s.h.i.+rt, the garment would be good enough, to appear as a herald, before your black cowls!"

He put on his helmet again, from which the feathers seemed to nod triumphantly. "Pay me at once, so that I can go on again. The air is bad here, very bad indeed." ...

"Allow me," said the Abbot, "but we never permit a guest to depart in anger from our island. You are sharp and urgent, because you have not yet dined. Don't disdain a meal, such as the monastery can offer, and let us talk of business afterwards."

That a fellow in return for his rudeness, is kindly pressed to stay to dinner, made some impression on the chamberlain's mind. He took off his helmet again. "The sovereign rights shall not be trampled upon by monastic insolence," muttered he once more; but the Abbot pointed over to the open cloister-kitchen. The fair-haired kitchen-boy was turning the spit before the fire and smacking his lips, for a lovely smell of the roast meat had entered his nostrils just then. Some covered dishes, calling up pleasant antic.i.p.ations were standing in the background; whilst a monk, bearing a huge wine-jug, was just coming up from the cellar. The aspect was too tempting, to resist any longer. So Master Spazzo laid aside his frown, and accepted the invitation.

When he had arrived at the third dish, his insulting speeches became more scarce, and when the red wine of Meersburg, was sparkling in the beaker, they ceased entirely. The red wine of Meersburg was good.

Meanwhile Rudimann rode out of the convent-gate. The fisherman of Ermatingen, had caught a gigantic salmon, which lay, fresh and glittering, in the vaults below. This fish had been selected by Rudimann, as a suitable present for appeasing the d.u.c.h.ess. Before he set out, however, he had still something to do in the copying room of the monastery. A lay-brother was to accompany him, with the huge fish, packed up in straw, lying before him on the saddle. Master Spazzo had ridden over in the haughtiest fas.h.i.+on, whereas Rudimann now a.s.sumed his most humble expression. He spoke shyly, and in low accents, when he asked for the d.u.c.h.ess. "She is in the garden," was the reply. "And my pious confrater Ekkehard?" asked the cellarer.

"He has accompanied the wounded Cappan, to his cottage on the Hohenstoffeln, where he is nursing him, so that he is not expected home before night."

"This I am truly sorry to hear," said Rudimann, with an evil expression of spite hovering about his lips. He then had the salmon unpacked, and put on the granite table in the middle of the courtyard. The tall lime-tree threw its cool shade over the glistening scales of the royal fish, and it was as if its large eye had still retained the power of sight, and were longingly looking away from the green branches, to the blue waves of its native element.

The fish measured above six feet in length, and Praxedis screamed outright, when its straw covers were taken off. "He does not come home before night-fall," muttered Rudimann, breaking off a strong branch from the tree, a piece of which he put between the jaws of the fish, so that it remained with wide open mouth. With some of the leaves, he carefully lined the inside, and then diving down into his breast-pocket, he drew out thence the parchment leaves of Gunzo's libel. Rolling them first neatly up, he then stuck them between the jaws of the salmon.