Barbara Blomberg, Volume 4.

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BARBARA BLOMBERG

By Georg Ebers

Volume 4.

CHAPTER XVI.

"Poor Wolf!" old Ursel had exclaimed. But whoever had met the young
knight the following morning, as he went up the stairs to the Blombergs'
rooms, would have deemed him, like Baron Malfalconnet, the happiest of
mortals.

He had obeyed Dr. Hiltner's summons, and remained a long time with him.
Then he went home at a rapid pace, for he longed to tell Barbara how fair
a prospect for their future was opening before him.

She had showed her liking for him plainly enough yesterday when they
parted. What should prevent her from becoming his now that he could
promise an ample income?

There was some one stirring in the private chapel as he passed, but he
paid no heed; in former days many people from the neighbourhood prayed
here frequently.

He found no one in the Blombergs' home except the father.

Barbara would certainly return immediately, the old man said. She had
gone down to the chapel a short time before. She was not in the habit of
doing so at this hour, but the great favour shown her by the Emperor had
probably gone to her head, and who could wonder?

Wolf also thought it natural that so great a success should excite her
powerfully: but he, too, had a similar one to relate, and, with joyful
emotion, he now told the old gentleman what the syndic had offered.

The Council, which, by the establishment of the "Convivium," had already
provided for the fostering of the noble art of music, wished to do still
more. The project had been dear to the recently deceased Martin Luther,
and the Ratisbon syndic, who had enjoyed his friendship, thought he was
carrying out his wishes----

Here Wolf was interrupted, for the table groaned under the blow of the
old warrior's still powerful fist, coupled with the exclamation: "So
there is still to be no rest from the accursed disturber of the peace,
although he is dead! No offence, my lad; but there can be nothing
edifying to a good Christian where that Wittenberg fellow is concerned."

"Only have patience," Wolf interposed here, secure of victory, and now,
slightly vexed with himself for his imprudence in mentioning Martin
Luther's name to the old hater of Turks and heretics, he explained that
Dr. Hiltner, in the name of the Council, had offered him the position of
Damian Feys, Barbara's teacher. The Netherlander was going home, and the
magistrate was glad to have found in him, Wolf, a native of Ratisbon who
would be no less skilled in fostering music in this good city. To bind
him securely, and avoid the danger of a speedy invitation elsewhere,
the position offered was provided with an annual salary hitherto
unprecedented in this country, and which far exceeded that of many an
imperial councillor. This had been rendered possible through a bequest,
whose interest was to be devoted to the development of music, and--if he
should accept the place--to him and his future wife.

When he heard this, he would fain have instantly bestowed the most
beautiful candles upon the Holy Virgin, but the scruple concerning
religion had prevented his rejoicing fully; and when he told the syndic
that under no circumstances could he abandon the old faith, it was done
with the fear that the glittering bird would fly away from him. But the
result had been different, for Dr. Hiltner replied that religion did not
enter into the matter. He knew Wolf and his peaceful nature, and
therefore hoped that he would be advised that music was a language
equally intelligible to all persons of feeling, whatever tongue they
spoke and whatever creed they preferred. This opinion was also that of
the Catholic maestro Feys, and he had therefore escaped all difficulty.
Wolf must, of course, consider the circumstances which he would find
here. If he would accommodate himself to them, the Council would be
willing to overlook his faith; besides, Hiltner, on his own authority,
had given him the three days' time to reflect, for which he had asked
on Barbara's account.

A long-drawn "H'm" from Blomberg followed this disclosure. Then he
shook his clumsy head, and, grasping his mustache with his hand, as if he
wanted in that way to stop the motion of his head, he said thoughtfully:
"Not a whole thing, Wolf, rather a double one, or--if we look at it
differently--it is only a half, for an honest friend of our Holy Church.
The way into which they tempt you is paved with gold, but--but--I see the
snares and pitfalls----"

He rose as he spoke, muttering all sorts of unintelligible things, until
he finally exclaimed, "Yet perhaps one might----"

Then he looked impatiently toward the door, and asked: "Where is the girl
loitering? Would Eve probably bite the apple of temptation also?"

"Shall I call her?" cried Wolf eagerly.

"No, no," said the captain. "It is sinful to disturb even our nearest
relatives at prayer. Besides, you would not believe how the maestro's
praises and the imperial gift have excited the vanity in her woman's
nature. For the first time in I know not how many years, she overslept
the hour of mass. It was probably ten o'clock when I knocked at her
chamber door. Toward eleven there was a movement in her room. Then I
opened the door to bid her good-morning, but she neither heard nor saw
anything, and knelt at the priedieu as if turned to stone. Before going
to sleep and early in the morning I expect such things, but when it is
almost noon! Her porridge still stood untouched on the table here, and
to-day there is no occasion for fasting. But I did not like to disturb
her, and perhaps she would still be kneeling before the Virgin's image if
the maid-servant hadn't blundered in to carry a bouquet which Herr Peter
Schlumperger's servant had brought. Then Barbara started up as if a
hornet had stung her. And how she looked at me! Once--I knew it
instantly--I had gazed into such a matvellously beautiful face, such
helpless blue eyes. Afterward I remembered who and where it had been.
God guard me from sinning against my own child, but that was exactly the
way the young girl looked who they--it was farther back in the past than
you can remember--burned here for a witch, as the halberdiers and monks
led her to the place of execution. Susanne Schindler--that was her name
--was the daughter of a respectable notary's clerk, who was obliged to
wander about the world a great deal, and perished in Hungary just as she
reached womanhood. Her mother had died when she was born, and an old
woman had taken care of her out of friendship. People called the lass
'beautiful Susel,' and she was wonderfully charming. Pink and white,
like the maiden in the fairy tale, and with glittering golden hair just
like my Wawerl's. The old woman with whom she lived--her aunt or some
other relative--had long practised the healing of all sorts of
infirmities, and when a young Spanish count, who had come here with the
Emperor Charles to the Reichstag in the year '31, fell under his horse in
leaping a ditch, his limbs were injured so that he could not use them.
As he did not recover under the care of the Knights of St. John, who
first nursed him, he went to the herb doctress, and she took charge of
him, and cured him, too, although the skill of the most famous doctors
and surgeons had failed to help him.

"But, to make amends, Satan, who probably had the largest share in the
miracle, visited him with the sorest evil, for 'beautiful Susel,' who was
the old woman's assistant, had so bewitched the young count that he not
only fell in love with her, but actually desired to make her his wife.

"Then all the noble relatives at home interfered. The Holy Inquisition
commanded the investigation of the case, and sent a stern vicar general
to direct the proceedings of the Dominicans, who had seized the
temptress. Then it came to light that 'beautiful Susel' had bewitched
the luckless young count and robbed him of reason by her wicked arts.

"The old woman, whom they had also examined, escaped her just punishment
because she died of the plague, which was raging here at that time, but
'beautiful Susel' was burned, and I looked on while it was done.

"When the Dominicans had led her to the stake, she turned toward the
people who had flocked here from all quarters. Many doubtless pitied her
on account of her marvellous beauty, and because the devil had given her
the mask of the most touching kindness of heart; but she gazed directly
into my face with her large, blue eyes as I stood close by, and for years
I saw the witch's look distinctly before me. Yet what do we not at last
forget? And now it must happen that what reminded me of her again is my
own innocent child! Wawerl just looked into my eyes as if 'beautiful
Susel' had risen from her grave. It was not long, yet it seemed as if
she shrank in terror from me, her own clear father. She gazed up at me
in helpless despair, as if she feared God and the world.

"I have learned little about shivering, but a chill ran down my spine.
Of course, I did not let her notice anything. Poor child! after the
honour bestowed yesterday, I thought there would be nothing to-day except
laughter and loud singing. But my grandmother used to say that the grief
which tortures a young girl--she herself knows not why--is the hardest
to bear, and then Barbara must now make up her mind about marriage, for,
besides you, there are Peter Schlumperger and young Crafft to be
considered.

"I remembered all this, and so, as usual, I took her face between my
hands to give her her morning kiss. She always offers me her lips, but
to-day she turned away so that my mouth barely brushed her cheeks.
'Women's whims!' I thought, and therefore let it pass. You can imagine
how glad I should have been to hear something more about yesterday
evening, but I made no objection when she wished to go to the chapel
at once, because she had overslept the hour of mass. She would be back
again before the porridge was heated. But the little bowl has stood
there probably three quarters of an hour, and we are still waiting in
vain."

Here he paused in his voluble flow of speech, and then burst forth
angrily: "The devil may understand such a girl's soul! Usually Wawerl
does just the opposite of what one expects; but if she does accept you,
she will--as an honest man I ought not to conceal it from you--she will
give you many a riddle to guess. Whims and freaks are as plenty with her
as buttercups in spring turf; but you can't find a more pious girl in all
Ratisbon. From ancient times the motto of the Blombergs has been 'Faith,
Courage, and Honour,' and for that very reason it seems to me highly
improbable that Wawerl would advise you to accept an office which, after
all, will force you to yield to the will of heretical superiors. The
high pay alone will hardly win her."

"It will not?" asked Wolf in astonishment. "It is for her alone, not for
myself, that I value the increased income."

"For her?" repeated the old man, shrugging his shoulders incredulously.
"Open your eyes, and you will see what she cares for gold and jewels."

"The splendid bouquet there--do you suppose that she even looked at it?
Bright pinks, red roses, and stately lilies in the centre. Where were
they obtained, since April is scarcely past? And yet she threw the
costly birthday gift aside as if the flowers were apple parings. It was
not she, but I, who afterward put them in the pitcher, for I can't bear
to see any of God's creatures thirst, even though it is only a flower.
Besides, we both know that the fullest purse in the city, and a man
worthy of all respect to boot, are attached to the bouquet. Yes, indeed!
For a long time she has been unwilling to share my poverty, and if Herr
Peter had remained loyal to our holy religion, I would persuade her
myself."

Here, exhausted by his eager speech, he paused with flushed cheeks--for
it was a hot day--and raised his long arm to take his hat from the hook,
to refresh his dry palate at the tavern.

But, after a brief pause for reflection, he restored it to its place.

He had remembered that he had not stirred a finger that morning, and had
promised to have an inscription on a jug completed early the next day.
Besides, the baker had not been paid for four weeks, so, sighing heavily,
he dragged himself to the workbench to move the burin with a weary hand.

Wolf had followed him with his eyes, and the sight of the chivalrous
hero, the father of the girl whom he loved, undertaking such a wretched
occupation, in such a mood, pierced him to the heart.

"Father Blomberg," he said warmly, putting his hand on his shoulder, "let
your graver rest. I am a suitor for your child's hand. We are old
friends, and if from my abundance I offer you----"

Here the hot-blooded old man furiously exclaimed: "Don't forget to whom
you are speaking, young fellow! How important he feels because he gets
his living at court! True, there is no abundance here; but I practise
this art merely because I choose, and because it cools my hot blood in
this lukewarm time of peace. But if on that account," he added
threateningly, while his prominent eyes protruded even farther than
usual, "you ever again venture to talk to me as though I were a day
labourer or a receiver of alms----"

Here he hesitated, for in the midst of his outbreak Barbara had
noiselessly entered the room. Now she approached him, and, in a more
gentle and affectionate tone than she had ever used before, entreated him
to rest.

The captain, groaning, shook his head, but Barbara stepped lightly upon
the low wooden bench on which he sat, drew his gray head toward her, and
tenderly stroked his hair and beard, whispering: "Rise, father, and let
somebody else finish the engraving, it is so cool and shady in the green
woods where the birds are singing, and only yesterday you praised the
refreshing drink at the Red Cock."

Here he impatiently, yet with a pleased senile, endeavoured to release
himself from her arms, but she interrupted his exclamation, "Don't you
know, Miss Thoughtless," with the whispered entreaty: "Here me out
first, father! Maestro Appenzelder asked me to add my voice to the boy
choir a few times more, and yesterday evening the treasurer told me that
the Queen of Hungary had commissioned him to give me as many ducats as
the boys received pennies."

She spoke the truth; but the old man laughed heartily in his deep tones,
cast a quick glance at Wolf, who was looking up at his weapons, and,
lowering his voice, cried gaily, "That's what I call a feminine
Chrysostomus or golden mouth, and I should think----"

Here he hesitated, for a doubt arose in his chivalrous mind whether it
was seemly for a young girl who belonged to a knightly race to accept
payment for her singing. But the thought that it came from the hand of
royalty, and that even the great Duke of Alba, the renowned Granvelles,
and so many princes, counts, and barons received golden wages for their
services from the Emperor's hand, put an end to these scruples.

So, in a happier frame of mind than he had experienced for a long time,
he said in a low tone, that he might not be understood by their guest:
"Greater people than we rejoice in the gifts which emperors and kings
bestow, and--we can use them, can't we?"

Then he rubbed his hands, laughed as if he had outwitted the people of
whom he was thinking, and whispered to his daughter: "The baker will
wonder when he gets paid this time in glittering gold, and the butcher
and Master Reinhard! My boots still creak softly when I step, and you
know what that means. The soles of your little shoes probably only sing,
but they, too, are not silent."

The old man, released from a heavy burden of care, laughed merrily again
at this jest, and then, raising his voice, told his daughter and Wolf
that he would first get a cool drink and then go outside the gate
wherever his lame foot might carry him. Would not the young nobleman
accompany him?

But Wolf preferred to stay with Barbara, that he might plead his cause in
person. There was something so quiet and diffident in her manner. If
she would not listen to him to-day, she never would. In saying farewell,
the captain remarked that he would not meddle in the affair of the
Council. Wawerl alone must decide that.

"When I return home," he concluded, "you will have come to an agreement,
and, whatever the determination may be, I shall be satisfied. Perhaps
some bright idea may come to me, too, over the wine. I'll go to the
Black Bear, where I always meet fellow-soldiers."

Then he raised his hand with a gay farewell salute, and left the room.

CHAPTER XVII.

As soon as the captain's limping steps died away on the stairs, Wolf
summoned all his courage and moved nearer to Barbara.

His heart throbbed anxiously as he told himself that the next few minutes
would decide his future destiny.

As he saw her before him, fairer than ever, with downcast eves, silent
and timid, without a trace of the triumphant self-assurance which she had
gained during his absence, he firmly believed that he had made the right
choice, and that her consent would render him the most enviable of happy
mortals. If she refused him her hand--he felt this no less plainly--his
life would be forever robbed of light and joy.

True, he was no longer as blithe and full of hope as when he entered her
plain lodgings a short time before.

The doubt of the worthy man, behind whom the house door had just closed,
had awakened his doubts also. Yet what he now had it in his power to
offer, since his conversation with the syndic, was by no means trivial.
He must hold fast to it, and as he raised his eyes more freely to her
his courage increased, for she was still gazing at the floor in silent
submission, as if ready to commit her fate into his hands; nay, in the
brief seconds during which his eyes rested upon her, he perceived an
expression which seemed wholly alien to her features, and bestowed upon
this usually alert, self-assured, vivacious creature an air of weary
helplessness.

While he was generally obliged to maintain an attitude of defence toward
her, she now seemed to need friendly consolation. So, obeying a hasty
impulse, he warmly extended both hands, and in a gentle, sympathizing
tone exclaimed, "Wawerl, my dear girl, what troubles you?"

Then her glance met his, and her blue eyes flashed upon him with an
expression of defiant resistance; but he could not help thinking of the
young witch who was said to have resembled her, and a presentiment told
him that she was lost to him.

The confirmation of this foreboding was not delayed, for in a tone whose
repellent sternness startled him, she angrily burst forth: "What should
trouble me? It as ill becomes you to question me with such looks and
queries as it pleases me." Wolf, in bewilderment, assured her that she
had seemed to him especially charming in her gracious gentleness. If
anything had happened to cloud her fearless joyousness, let her forget
it, for the matter now to be considered concerned the happiness of two
human lives.

That was what she was saying to herself, Barbara replied in a more
friendly tone, and, with newly awakened hope, the young knight informed
her that the time had now come when, without offending against modesty,
he might call himself a "made man."

With increasing eagerness and confidence he then told her what the
councillor had offered. Without concealing her father's scruples, he
added the assurance that he felt perfectly secure against the temptations
of which there would certainly be no lack while he was in the service of
a Protestant magistracy.

"And when you, devout, pure, true girl, stand by my side," he concluded
with an ardour which surprised Barbara in this quiet, reserved man, "when
you are once mine, my one love, then I shall conquer the hardest obstacle
as if it were mere pastime, then I would not change places with the
Emperor, for then my happiness would be----"

Hitherto she had silently permitted him to speak, but now her cheeks
suddenly flamed with a deep flush, and she warmly interrupted: "You
deserve to be happy, Wolf, and I could desire nothing more ardently than
to see you glad and content; but you would never become so through me.
How pale you grow! For my sake, do not take it so much to heart; it
grieves me to see you suffer. Only believe that. It cuts me to the
heart to inflict such great sorrow upon one so loyal, good, and dear,
who values me so much more than I deserve."

Here Wolf, deeply agitated, wildly called her name, and besought her
not to cast aside so harshly the wealth of love and fidelity which he
offered.

His own anguish of soul, and the pain inflicted by the cruel blow which
crushed his dearest hopes, robbed him of fortitude and calmness. With
tears in his eyes, he threw himself on his knees before her and gazed
into her face with anxious entreaty, exclaiming brokenly: "Do not--do not
inflict this suffering upon me, Wawerl! Rob me of everything except
hope. Defer your acceptance until I can offer you a still fairer future,
only be merciful and leave me hope!"

Tears now began to glitter in Barbara's eyes also, and Wolf, noticing it,
hastened with reviving courage to assure her how little it would cost him
to reject, once for all, to please her, the tempting position offered
to him here. He could soon obtain a good office elsewhere, since their
Majesties were not only favourably disposed toward him, but now toward
her also. True, to him even the most brilliant external gifts of life
would be valueless and charmless without her love.

But here Barbara imperatively commanded him to rise, and not make his own
heart and hers still heavier without avail.

Wolf pressed his hands upon his temples as violently as if he feared
losing his senses; but the young girl voluntarily put her arm around his
shoulders, and said with sincere emotion: "Poor Wolf! I know how
thoroughly in earnest you are, but I dare not even leave you hope--I
neither can nor ought. Yet you may hear this: From my childhood you have
been dearer to me than any one else, and never shall I forget how firmly
you cling to me, how hard it is for you to give me up."

Then Sir Wolf vehemently asked to know what stood between them; and
Barbara, after a brief pause for reflection, answered, "Love for
another."

The confession pierced him like a dagger thrust, and he passionately
entreated her to tell him the name of the man who had defrauded him of
the happiness to which he possessed an older and better right than any
one else.

He paced the room with long strides as he spoke, gazing around him as if
he imagined that she had his rival concealed somewhere.

In doing so his glance fell upon Herr Schlumperger's bouquet, and he
wildly cried: "He? So, after all, wealth----"

But this was too much for Barbara, and she stopped him with the
exclamation: "Fool that you are! As if You did not know that I am not to
be bought for the paltry florins of a Ratisbon moneybag!"

But the next instant she had repented her outbreak, and in words so
loving and gentle, so tender and considerate that his heart melted and
he would fain have flung himself again at her feet, she explained to him
more particularly why she was obliged to inflict this suffering upon him.

Her heart was no longer free, and precisely because he was worthy of the
whole affection of a loyal heart she would not repay him in worthless
metal for the pure gold of his love. She was no prophetess, yet she knew
full well that some day he would bless this hour. What she concealed
from every one, even her father, as an inviolable secret, she had
confessed to him because he deserved her confidence.

Then she began to speak of Dr. Hiltner's offer, and discussed its pros
and cons with interest as warm as if her own fate was to be associated
with his.

The result was that she dissuaded him from settling in Ratisbon. She
expected higher achievements from him than he could attain here among the
Protestants, who, on account of his faith, would place many a stumbling-
block in his way.

Then, changing her businesslike tone, she went on with greater warmth to
urge him, for her sake, and that he might be the same to her as ever, to
remain loyal to the religion they both professed. She could not fulfil
his hopes, it is true, but her thoughts would often dwell with him and
her wishes would follow him everywhere. His place was at court, where
some day he would win a distinguished position, and nothing could render
her happier than the news that he had attained the highest honour,
esteem, and fame.

How gentle and kind all this sounded! Wolf had not imagined that she
could be so thoughtful, so forgetful of self, and so affectionate in her
sympathy. He hung upon her lips in silent admiration, yet it was
impossible for him to determine whether this sisterly affection from
Barbara was pouring balm or acrid lye upon his wounds.

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