by Walter Scott
CHAPTER III.
Away with these!--True Wisdom's world will be Within its own creation, or in thine, Maternal Nature! for who teems like thee Thus on the banks of thy majestic Rhine? There Harold gazes on a work divine, A blending of all beauties, streams, and dells-- Fruit, foliage, crag, wood, cornfield, mountain, vine, And chiefless castles breathing stern farewells, From grey but leafy walls, where ruin greenly dwells. _Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto III._
When Arthur Philipson left his father, to go on board the bark whichwas to waft him across the Rhine, he took but few precautions for hisown subsistence, during a separation of which he calculated theduration to be very brief. Some necessary change of raiment, and avery few pieces of gold, were all which he thought it needful towithdraw from the general stock; the rest of the baggage and money heleft with the sumpter-horse, which he concluded his father might need,in order to sustain his character as an English trader. Havingembarked with his horse and his slender appointments on board afishing-skiff, she instantly raised her temporary mast, spread a sailacross the yard, and, supported by the force of the wind against thedownward power of the current, moved across the river obliquely in thedirection of Kirch-hoff, which, as we have said, lies somewhat loweron the river than Hans-Kapelle. Their passage was so favourable thatthey reached the opposite side in a few minutes, but not until Arthur,whose eye and thoughts were on the left bank, had seen his fatherdepart from the Chapel of the Ferry, accompanied by two horsemen, whomhe readily concluded to be the guide Bartholomew, and some chancetraveller who had joined him; but the second of whom was in truth theBlack Priest of St. Paul's, as has been already mentioned.
This augmentation of his father's company was, he could not but think,likely to be attended with an increase of his safety, since it was notprobable he would suffer a companion to be forced upon him, and one ofhis own choosing might be a protection, in case his guide should provetreacherous. At any rate, he had to rejoice that he had seen hisfather depart in safety from the spot where they had reason toapprehend some danger awaited him. He resolved, therefore, to make nostay at Kirch-hoff, but to pursue his way, as fast as possible,towards Strasburg, and rest, when darkness compelled him to stop, inone of the _dorfs_, or villages, which were situated on the Germanside of the Rhine. At Strasburg, he trusted, with the sanguine spiritof youth, he might again be able to rejoin his father; and if he couldnot altogether subdue his anxiety on their separation, he fondlynourished the hope that he might meet him in safety. After some shortrefreshment and repose afforded to his horse, he lost no time inproceeding on his journey down the eastern bank of the broad river.
He was now upon the most interesting side of the Rhine, walled in andrepelled as the river is on that shore by the most romantic cliffs,now mantled with vegetation of the richest hue, tinged with all thevariegated colours of autumn; now surmounted by fortresses, over whosegates were displayed the pennons of their proud owners; or studdedwith hamlets, where the richness of the soil supplied to the poorlabourer the food of which the oppressive hand of his superiorthreatened altogether to deprive him. Every stream which herecontributes its waters to the Rhine winds through its own tributarydell, and each valley possesses a varying and separate character, somerich with pastures, cornfields, and vineyards, some frowning withcrags and precipices, and other romantic beauties.
The principles of taste were not then explained or analysed as theyhave been since, in countries where leisure has been found for thisinvestigation. But the feelings arising from so rich a landscape as isdisplayed by the valley of the Rhine must have been the same in everybosom, from the period when our Englishman took his solitary journeythrough it, in doubt and danger, till that in which it heard theindignant Childe Harold bid a proud farewell to his native country, inthe vain search of a land in which his heart might throb lessfiercely.
Arthur enjoyed this scene, although the fading daylight began toremind him that, alone as he was, and travelling with a very valuablecharge, it would be matter of prudence to look out for some place ofrest during the night. Just as he had formed the resolution ofinquiring at the next habitation he should pass, which way he shouldfollow for this purpose, the road he pursued descended into abeautiful amphitheatre filled with large trees, which protected fromthe heats of summer the delicate and tender herbage of the pasture. Alarge brook flowed through it, and joined the Rhine. At a short mileup the brook its waters made a crescent round a steep craggy eminence,crowned with flanking walls, and Gothic towers and turrets, enclosinga feudal castle of the first order. A part of the savannah that hasbeen mentioned had been irregularly cultivated for wheat, which hadgrown a plentiful crop. It was gathered in, but the patches of deepyellow stubble contrasted with the green of the undisturbed pastureland, and with the seared and dark-red foliage of the broad oaks whichstretched their arms athwart the level space. There a lad, in a rusticdress, was employed in the task of netting a brood of partridges withthe assistance of a trained spaniel; while a young woman, who had theair rather of a domestic in some family of rank than that of anordinary villager, sat on the stump of a decayed tree, to watch theprogress of the amusement. The spaniel, whose duty it was to drive thepartridges under the net, was perceptibly disturbed at the approach ofthe traveller; his attention was divided, and he was obviously indanger of marring the sport, by barking and putting up the covey, whenthe maiden quitted her seat, and, advancing towards Philipson,requested him, for courtesy, to pass at a greater distance, and notinterfere with their amusement.
The traveller willingly complied with her request.
"I will ride, fair damsel," he said, "at whatever distance you please.And allow me, in guerdon, to ask, whether there is convent, castle, orgood man's house, where a stranger, who is belated and weary, mightreceive a night's hospitality?"
The girl, whose face he had not yet distinctly seen, seemed tosuppress some desire to laugh, as she replied, "Hath not yon castle,think you," pointing to the distant towers, "some corner which mightaccommodate a stranger in such extremity?"
"Space enough, certainly," said Arthur; "but perhaps littleinclination to grant it."
"I myself," said the girl, "being one, and a formidable part of thegarrison, will be answerable for your reception. But as you parleywith me in such hostile fashion, it is according to martial order thatI should put down my visor."
So saying, she concealed her face under one of those riding-maskswhich at that period women often wore when they went abroad, whetherfor protecting their complexion or screening themselves from intrusiveobservation. But ere she could accomplish this operation Arthur haddetected the merry countenance of Annette Veilchen, a girl who, thoughher attendance on Anne of Geierstein was in a menial capacity, washeld in high estimation at Geierstein. She was a bold wench,unaccustomed to the distinctions of rank, which were little regardedin the simplicity of the Helvetian hills, and she was ready to laugh,jest, and flirt with the young men of the Landamman's family. Thisattracted no attention, the mountain manners making little distinctionbetween the degrees of attendant and mistress, further than that themistress was a young woman who required help, and the maiden one whowas in a situation to offer and afford it. This kind of familiaritywould perhaps have been dangerous in other lands, but the simplicityof Swiss manners, and the turn of Annette's disposition, which wasresolute and sensible, though rather bold and free, when compared tothe manners of more civilised countries, kept all intercourse betwixther and the young men of the family in the strict path of honour andinnocence.
Arthur himself had paid considerable attention to Annette, beingnaturally, from his feelings towards Anne of Geierstein, heartilydesirous to possess the good graces of her attendant; a point whichwas easily gained by the attentions of a handsome young man, and thegenerosity with which he heaped upon her small presents of articles ofdress or ornament, which the damsel, however faithful, could find noheart to refuse.
The assurance that he was in Anne's neighbourhood,
and that he waslikely to pass the night under the same roof, both of whichcircumstances were intimated by the girl's presence and language, sentthe blood in a hastier current through Arthur's veins; for though,since he had crossed the river, he had sometimes nourished hopes ofagain seeing her who had made so strong an impression on hisimagination, yet his understanding had as often told him how slightwas the chance of their meeting, and it was even now chilled by thereflection that it could be followed only by the pain of a sudden andfinal separation. He yielded himself, however, to the prospect ofpromised pleasure, without attempting to ascertain what was to be itsduration or its consequence. Desirous, in the meantime, to hear asmuch of Anne's circumstances as Annette chose to tell, he resolved notto let that merry maiden perceive that she was known by him, untilshe chose of her own accord to lay aside her mystery.
While these thoughts passed rapidly through his imagination, Annettebade the lad drop his nets, and directed him that, having taken two ofthe best-fed partridges from the covey, and carried them into thekitchen, he was to set the rest at liberty.
"I must provide supper," said she to the traveller, "since I ambringing home unexpected company."
Arthur earnestly expressed his hope that his experiencing thehospitality of the castle would occasion no trouble to the inmates,and received satisfactory assurances upon the subject of his scruples.
"I would not willingly be the cause of inconvenience to yourmistress," pursued the traveller.
"Look you there," said Annette Veilchen, "I have said nothing ofmaster or mistress, and this poor forlorn traveller has alreadyconcluded in his own mind that he is to be harboured in a lady'sbower!"
"Why, did you not tell me," said Arthur, somewhat confused at hisblunder, "that you were the person of second importance in the place?A damsel, I judged, could only be an officer under a female governor."
"I do not see the justice of the conclusion," replied the maiden. "Ihave known ladies bear offices of trust in lords' families; nay, andover the lords themselves."
"Am I to understand, fair damsel, that you hold so predominant asituation in the castle which we are now approaching, and of which Ipray you to tell me the name?"
"The name of the castle is Arnheim," said Annette.
"Your garrison must be a large one," said Arthur, looking at theextensive building, "if you are able to man such a labyrinth of wallsand towers."
"In that point," said Annette, "I must needs own we are verydeficient. At present, we rather hide in the castle than inhabit it;and yet it is well enough defended by the reports which frighten everyother person who might disturb its seclusion."
"And yet you yourselves dare to reside in it?" said the Englishman,recollecting the tale which had been told by Rudolph Donnerhugel,concerning the character of the Barons of Arnheim, and the finalcatastrophe of the family.
"Perhaps," replied his guide, "we are too intimate with the cause ofsuch fears to feel ourselves strongly oppressed with them--perhaps wehave means of encountering the supposed terrors proper toourselves--perhaps, and it is not the least likely conjecture, we haveno choice of a better place of refuge. Such seems to be your own fateat present, sir, for the tops of the distant hills are graduallylosing the lights of the evening; and if you rest not in Arnheim, wellcontented or not, you are likely to find no safe lodging for many amile."
As she thus spoke she separated from Arthur, taking, with the fowlerwho attended her, a very steep but short footpath, which ascendedstraight up to the site of the castle; at the same time motioning tothe young Englishman to follow a horse-track, which, more circuitous,led to the same point, and, though less direct, was considerably moreeasy.
He soon stood before the south front of Arnheim Castle, which was amuch larger building than he had conceived, either from Rudolph'sdescription or from the distant view. It had been erected at manydifferent periods, and a considerable part of the edifice was less inthe strict Gothic than in what has been termed the Saracenic style, inwhich the imagination of the architect is more florid than that whichis usually indulged in the North--rich in minarets, cupolas, andsimilar approximations to Oriental structures. This singular buildingbore a general appearance of desolation and desertion, but Rudolph hadbeen misinformed when he declared that it had become ruinous. On thecontrary, it had been maintained with considerable care; and when itfell into the hands of the Emperor, although no garrison wasmaintained within its precincts, care was taken to keep the buildingin repair; and though the prejudices of the country people preventedany one from passing the night within the fearful walls, yet it wasregularly visited from time to time by a person having commission fromthe Imperial Chancery to that effect. The occupation of the domainaround the castle was a valuable compensation for this officialperson's labour, and he took care not to endanger the loss of it byneglecting his duty. Of late this officer had been withdrawn, and nowit appeared that the young Baroness of Arnheim had found refuge in thedeserted towers of her ancestors.
The Swiss damsel did not leave the youthful traveller time to studyparticularly the exterior of the castle, or to construe the meaningof emblems and mottoes, seemingly of an Oriental character, with whichthe outside was inscribed, and which expressed in various modes, moreor less directly, the attachment of the builders of this extensivepile to the learning of the Eastern sages. Ere he had time to takemore than a general survey of the place, the voice of the Swiss maidencalled him to an angle of the wall in which there was a projection,whence a long plank extended over a dry moat, and was connected with awindow in which Annette was standing.
"You have forgotten your Swiss lessons already," said she, observingthat Arthur went rather timidly about crossing the temporary andprecarious drawbridge.
The reflection that Anne, her mistress, might make the sameobservation, recalled the young traveller to the necessary degree ofcomposure. He passed over the plank with the same _sang froid_ withwhich he had learned to brave the far more terrific bridge beneath theruinous castle of Geierstein. He had no sooner entered the window thanAnnette, taking off her mask, bade him welcome to Germany, and to oldfriends with new names.
"Anne of Geierstein," she said, "is no more; but you will presentlysee the Lady Baroness of Arnheim, who is extremely like her; and I,who was Annette Veilchen in Switzerland, the servant to a damsel whowas not esteemed much greater than myself, am now the young Baroness'swaiting-woman, and make everybody of less quality stand back."
"If, in such circumstances," said young Philipson, "you have theinfluence due to your consequence, let me beseech of you to tell theBaroness, since we must now call her so, that my present intrusion onher is occasioned by my ignorance."
"Away, away!" said the girl, laughing. "I know better what to say inyour behalf. You are not the first poor man and pedlar that has gotthe graces of a great lady; but I warrant you it was not by makinghumble apologies, and talking of unintentional intrusion. I will tellher of love, which all the Rhine cannot quench, and which has drivenyou hither, leaving you no other choice than to come or to perish!"
"Nay, but Annette, Annette"----
"Fie on you for a fool,--make a shorter name of it,--cry Anne, Anne!and there will be more prospect of your being answered."
So saying, the wild girl ran out of the room, delighted, as amountaineer of her description was likely to be, with the thought ofhaving done as she would desire to be done by, in her benevolentexertions to bring two lovers together, when on the eve of inevitableseparation.
In this self-approving disposition, Annette sped up a narrow turnpikestair to a closet, or dressing-room, where her young mistress wasseated, and exclaimed, with open mouth,--"Anne of Gei----, I mean myLady Baroness, they are come--they are come!"
"The Philipsons?" said Anne, almost breathless as she asked thequestion.
"Yes--no--" answered the girl; "that is, yes,--for the best of them iscome, and that is Arthur."
"What meanest thou, girl? Is not Seignor Philipson, the father, alongwith his son?"
"Not he, i
ndeed," answered Veilchen, "nor did I ever think of askingabout him. He was no friend of mine, nor of any one else, save the oldLandamman; and well met they were for a couple of wiseacres, witheternal proverbs in their mouths, and care upon their brows."
"Unkind, inconsiderate girl, what hast thou done?" said Anne ofGeierstein. "Did I not warn and charge thee to bring them both hither?and you have brought the young man alone to a place where we arenearly in solitude! What will he--what can he think of me?"
"Why, what should I have done?" said Annette, remaining firm in herargument. "He was alone, and should I have sent him down to the _dorf_to be murdered by the Rhinegrave's Lanzknechts? All is fish, I trow,that comes to their net; and how is he to get through this country, sobeset with wandering soldiers, robber barons (I beg your ladyship'spardon), and roguish Italians, flocking to the Duke of Burgundy'sstandard?--Not to mention the greatest terror of all, that is never inone shape or other absent from one's eye or thought."
"Hush, hush, girl! add not utter madness to the excess of folly; butlet us think what is to be done. For our sake, for his own, thisunfortunate young man must leave this castle instantly."
"You must take the message yourself, then, Anne--I beg pardon, mostnoble Baroness;--it may be very fit for a lady of high birth to sendsuch a message, which, indeed, I have heard the Minne-singers tell intheir romances; but I am sure it is not a meet one for me, or anyfrank-hearted Swiss girl, to carry. No more foolery; but remember, ifyou were born Baroness of Arnheim, you have been bred and brought upin the bosom of the Swiss hills, and should conduct yourself like anhonest and well-meaning damsel."
"And in what does your wisdom reprehend my folly, good MademoiselleAnnette?" replied the Baroness.
"Ay, marry! now our noble blood stirs in our veins. But remember,gentle my lady, that it was a bargain between us, when I left yondernoble mountains, and the free air that blows over them, to coop myselfup in this land of prisons and slaves, that I should speak my mind toyou as freely as I did when our heads lay on the same pillow."
"Speak, then," said Anne, studiously averting her face as she preparedto listen; "but beware that you say nothing which it is unfit for meto hear."
"I will speak nature and common-sense; and if your noble ears are notmade fit to hear and understand these, the fault lies in them, and notin my tongue. Look you, you have saved this youth from two greatdangers--one at the earth-shoot at Geierstein, the other this veryday, when his life was beset. A handsome young man he is, well spoken,and well qualified to gain deservedly a lady's favour. Before you sawhim, the Swiss youth were at least not odious to you. You danced withthem,--you jested with them,--you were the general object of theiradmiration,--and, as you well know, you might have had your choicethrough the Canton--Why, I think it possible a little urgency mighthave brought you to think of Rudolph Donnerhugel as your mate."
"Never, wench, never!" exclaimed Anne.
"Be not so very positive, my lady. Had he recommended himself to theuncle in the first place, I think, in my poor sentiment, he might atsome lucky moment have carried the niece. But since we have known thisyoung Englishman, it has been little less than contemning, despising,and something like hating, all the men whom you could endure wellenough before."
"Well, well," said Anne, "I will detest and hate thee more than any ofthem, unless you bring your matters to an end."
"Softly, noble lady, fair and easy go far. All this argues you lovethe young man, and let those say that you are wrong who think there isanything wonderful in the matter. There is much to justify you, andnothing that I know against it."
"What, foolish girl! Remember my birth forbids me to love a meanman--my condition to love a poor man--my father's commands to love onewhose addresses are without his consent--above all, my maidenly prideforbids me fixing my affections on one who cares not for me--nay,perhaps, is prejudiced against me by appearances."
"Here is a fine homily!" said Annette; "but I can clear every point ofit as easily as Father Francis does his text in a holiday sermon. Yourbirth is a silly dream, which you have only learned to value withinthese two or three days, when, having come to German soil, some of theold German weed, usually called family pride, has begun to germinatein your heart. Think of such folly as you thought when you lived atGeierstein--that is, during all the rational part of your life, andthis great terrible prejudice will sink into nothing. By condition, Iconceive you mean estate. But Philipson's father, who is the mostfree-hearted of men, will surely give his son as many zechins as willstock a mountain farm. You have firewood for the cutting, and land forthe occupying, since you are surely entitled to part of Geierstein,and gladly will your uncle put you in possession of it. You can managethe dairy, Arthur can shoot, hunt, fish, plough, harrow, and reap."
Anne of Geierstein shook her head, as if she greatly doubted herlover's skill in the last of the accomplishments enumerated.
"Well, well, he can learn, then," said Annette Veilchen; "and you willonly live the harder the first year or so. Besides, SigismundBiederman will aid him willingly, and he is a very horse at labour;and I know another besides, who is a friend"----
"Of thine own, I warrant," quoth the young Baroness.
"Marry, it is my poor friend Louis Sprenger; and I'll never be sofalse-hearted as to deny my bachelor."
"Well, well, but what is to be the end of all this?" said theBaroness, impatiently.
"The end of it, in my opinion," said Annette, "is very simple. Hereare priests and prayer-books within a mile--go down to the parlour,speak your mind to your lover, or hear him speak his mind to you; joinhands, go quietly back to Geierstein in the character of man and wife,and get everything ready to receive your uncle on his return. This isthe way that a plain Swiss wench would cut off the romance of aGerman Baroness"----
"And break the heart of her father," said the young lady, with a sigh.
"It is more tough than you are aware of," replied Annette. "He hathnot lived without you so long but that he will be able to spare youfor the rest of his life, a great deal more easily than you, with allyour new-fangled ideas of quality, will be able to endure his schemesof wealth and ambition, which will aim at making you the wife of someillustrious Count, like De Hagenbach, whom we saw not long since makesuch an edifying end, to the great example of all Robber-Chivalry uponthe Rhine."
"Thy plan is naught, wench; a childish vision of a girl who never knewmore of life than she has heard told over her milking-pail. Rememberthat my uncle entertains the highest ideas of family discipline, andthat to act contrary to my father's will would destroy us in his goodopinion. Why else am I here? Wherefore has he resigned hisguardianship? And why am I obliged to change the habits that are dearto me, and assume the manners of a people that are strange, andtherefore unpleasing to me?"
"Your uncle," said Annette firmly, "is Landamman of the Canton ofUnterwalden; respects its freedom, and is the sworn protector of itslaws, of which, when you, a denizen of the Confederacy, claim theprotection, he cannot refuse it to you."
"Even then," said the young Baroness, "I should forfeit his goodopinion, his more than paternal affection; but it is needless to dwellupon this. Know, that although I could have loved the young man, whomI will not deny to be as amiable as your partiality paintshim--know,"--she hesitated for a moment,--"that he has never spoken aword to me on such a subject as you, without knowing either hissentiments or mine, would intrude on my consideration."
"Is it possible?" answered Annette. "I thought--I believed, though Ihave never pressed on your confidence--that you must--attached as youwere to each other--have spoken together, like true maid and truebachelor, before now. I have done wrong, when I thought to do for thebest.--Is it possible!--such things have been heard of even in ourcanton--is it possible he can have harboured so unutterably basepurposes, as that Martin of Brisach, who made love to Adela of theSundgau, enticed her to folly--the thing, though almost incredible, istrue--fled--fled from the country and boasted of his villany, till hercousin Raymund silenced for
ever his infamous triumph, by beating hisbrains out with his club, even in the very street of the villain'snative town? By the Holy Mother of Einsiedlen! could I suspect thisEnglishman of meditating such treason, I would saw the plank acrossthe moat till a fly's weight would break it, and it should be at sixfathom deep that he should abye the perfidy which dared to meditatedishonour against an adopted daughter of Switzerland!"
As Annette Veilchen spoke, all the fire of her mountain courageflashed from her eyes, and she listened reluctantly while Anne ofGeierstein endeavoured to obliterate the dangerous impression whichher former words had impressed on her simple but faithful attendant.
"On my word"--she said,--"on my soul--you do Arthur Philipsoninjustice--foul injustice, in intimating such a suspicion;--hisconduct towards me has ever been upright and honourable--a friend to afriend--a brother to a sister--could not, in all he has done and said,have been more respectful, more anxiously affectionate, moreundeviatingly candid. In our frequent interviews and intercourse hehas indeed seemed very kind--very attached. But had I beendisposed--at times I may have been too much so--to listen to him withendurance,"--the young lady here put her hand on her forehead, but thetears streamed through her slender fingers,--"he has never spoken ofany love--any preference;--if he indeed entertains any, some obstacle,insurmountable on his part, has interfered to prevent him."
"Obstacle?" replied the Swiss damsel. "Ay, doubtless--some childishbashfulness--some foolish idea about your birth being so high abovehis own--some dream of modesty pushed to extremity, which considers asimpenetrable the ice of a spring frost. This delusion may be broken bya moment's encouragement, and I will take the task on myself, to spareyour blushes, my dearest Anne."
"No, no; for Heaven's sake, no, Veilchen!" answered the Baroness, towhom Annette had so long been a companion and confidant, rather than adomestic. "You cannot anticipate the nature of the obstacles which mayprevent his thinking on what you are so desirous to promote. Hearme--My early education, and the instructions of my kind uncle, havetaught me to know something more of foreigners and their fashions thanI ever could have learned in our happy retirement of Geierstein; I amwell-nigh convinced that these Philipsons are of rank, as they are ofmanners and bearing, far superior to the occupation which they appearto hold. The father is a man of deep observation, of high thought andpretension, and lavish of gifts, far beyond what consists with theutmost liberality of a trader."
"That is true," said Annette. "I will say for myself, that the silverchain he gave me weighs against ten silver crowns, and the cross whichArthur added to it, the day after the long ride we had together uptowards Mount Pilatus, is worth, they tell me, as much more. There isnot the like of it in the Cantons. Well, what then? They are rich, soare you. So much the better."
"Alas! Annette, they are not only rich, but noble. I am persuaded ofthis; for I have observed often, that even the father retreated, withan air of quiet and dignified contempt, from discussions withDonnerhugel and others, who, in our plain way, wished to fasten adispute upon him. And when a rude observation or blunt pleasantry waspointed at the son, his eye flashed, his cheek coloured, and it wasonly a glance from his father which induced him to repress the retortof no friendly character which rose to his lips."
"You have been a close observer," said Annette. "All this may be true,but I noted it not. But what then, I say once more? If Arthur has somefine noble name in his own country, are not you yourself Baroness ofArnheim? And I will frankly allow it as something of worth, if itsmooths the way to a match, where I think you must look forhappiness--I hope so, else I am sure it should have no encouragementfrom me."
"I do believe so, my faithful Veilchen; but, alas! how can you, in thestate of natural freedom in which you have been bred, know, or evendream, of the various restraints which this gilded or golden chain ofrank and nobility hangs upon those whom it fetters and encumbers, Ifear, as much as it decorates? In every country, the distinction ofrank binds men to certain duties. It may carry with it restrictions,which may prevent alliances in foreign countries--it often may preventthem from consulting their inclinations, when they wed in their own.It leads to alliances in which the heart is never consulted, totreaties of marriage, which are often formed when the parties are inthe cradle, or in leading strings, but which are not the less bindingon them in honour and faith. Such may exist in the present case. Thesealliances are often blended and mixed up with state policy; and if theinterest of England, or what he deems such, should have occasioned theelder Philipson to form such an engagement, Arthur would break his ownheart--the heart of any one else--rather than make false his father'sword."
"The more shame to them that formed such an engagement!" said Annette."Well, they talk of England being a free country; but if they can baryoung men and women of the natural privilege to call their hands andhearts their own, I would as soon be a German serf.--Well, lady, youare wise, and I am ignorant. But what is to be done? I have broughtthis young man here, expecting, God knows, a happier issue to yourmeeting. But it is clear you cannot marry him without his asking you.Now, although I confess that, if I could think him willing to forfeitthe hand of the fairest maid of the Cantons, either from want of manlycourage to ask it, or from regard to some ridiculous engagement,formed betwixt his father and some other nobleman of their island ofnoblemen, I would not in either case grudge him a ducking in the moat;yet it is another question, whether we should send him down to bemurdered among those cut-throats of the Rhinegrave; and unless we doso, I know not how to get rid of him."
"Then let the boy William give attendance on him here, and do you seeto his accommodation. It is best we do not meet."
"I will," said Annette; "yet what am I to say for you? Unhappily, Ilet him know that you were here."
"Alas, imprudent girl! Yet why should I blame thee," said Anne ofGeierstein, "when the imprudence has been so great on my own side? Itis myself, who, suffering my imagination to rest too long upon thisyoung man and his merits, have led me into this entanglement. But Iwill show thee that I can overcome this folly, and I will not seek inmy own error a cause for evading the duties of hospitality. Go,Veilchen, get some refreshment ready. Thou shalt sup with us, and thoumust not leave us. Thou shalt see me behave as becomes both a Germanlady and a Swiss maiden. Get me first a candle, however, my girl, forI must wash these tell-tales, my eyes, and arrange my dress."
To Annette this whole explanation had been one scene of astonishment,for, in the simple ideas of love and courtship in which she had beenbrought up amid the Swiss mountains, she had expected that the twolovers would have taken the first opportunity of the absence of theirnatural guardians, and have united themselves for ever; and she hadeven arranged a little secondary plot, in which she herself and MartinSprenger, her faithful bachelor, were to reside with the young coupleas friends and dependants. Silenced, therefore, but not satisfied, bythe objections of her young mistress, the zealous Annette retreatedmurmuring to herself,--"That little hint about her dress is the onlynatural and sensible word she has said in my hearing. Please God, Iwill return and help her in the twinkling of an eye. That dressing mymistress is the only part of a waiting-lady's life that I have theleast fancy for--it seems so natural for one pretty maiden to set offanother--in faith we are but learning to dress ourselves at anothertime."
And with this sage remark Annette Veilchen tripped down stairs.