The Dove in the Eagle's Nest

by Charlotte M. Yonge

  CHAPTER VIIIPASSING THE OUBLIETTE

  WHO can describe the dreariness of being snowed-up all the winter withsuch a mother-in-law as Freiherrinn Kunigunde?

  Yet it was well that the snow came early, for it was the best defence ofthe lonely castle from any attack on the part of the Schlangenwaldern,the Swabian League, or the next heir, Freiherr Kasimir von AdlersteinWildschloss. The elder Baroness had, at least, the merit of a stoutheart, and, even with her sadly-reduced garrison, feared none of them.She had been brought up in the faith that Adlerstein was impregnable, andso she still believed; and, if the disaster that had cut off her husbandand son was to happen at all, she was glad that it had befallen beforethe homage had been paid. Probably the Schlangenwald Count knew howtough a morsel the castle was like to prove, and Wildschloss was servingat a distance, for nothing was heard of either during the short intervalwhile the roads were still open. During this time an attempt had beenmade through Father Norbert to ascertain what had become of the corpsesof the two Barons and their followers, and it had appeared that the Counthad carried them all off from the inn, no doubt to adorn his castle withtheir limbs, or to present them to the Emperor in evidence of his zealfor order. The old Baron could not indeed have been buried inconsecrated ground, nor have masses said for him; but for the weal of herson’s soul Dame Kunigunde gave some of her few ornaments, and Christinaadded her gold earrings, and all her scanty purse, that both her husbandand father might be joined in the prayers of the Church—trying with allher might to put confidence in Hugh Sorel’s Loretto relic, and theIndulgence he had bought, and trusting with more consolatory thoughts tothe ever stronger dawnings of good she had watched in her own Eberhard.

  She had some consoling intercourse with the priest while all this waspending; but throughout the winter she was entirely cut off from everycreature save the inmates of the castle, where, as far as the old ladywas concerned, she only existed on sufferance, and all her meekness andgentleness could not win for her more than the barest toleration.

  That Eberhard had for a few hours survived his father, and that thus theFreiherrinn Christina was as much the Dowager Baroness as Kunigundeherself, was often insisted on in the kitchen by Ursel, Hatto, and theSchneiderlein, whom Christina had unconsciously rendered her most devotedservant, not only by her daily care of his wound, but by her kindcourteous words, and by her giving him his proper name of Heinz, droppingthe absurd _nom de guerre_ of the Schneiderlein, or little tailor, whichhad been originally conferred on him in allusion to the valiantTailorling who boasted of having killed seven flies at a blow, and hadbeen carried on chiefly because of the contradiction between such a titleand his huge brawny strength and fierce courage. Poor Eberhard, with hisundaunted bravery and free reckless good-nature, a ruffian far more byeducation than by nature, had been much loved by his followers. Hiswidow would have reaped the benefit of that affection even if herexceeding sweetness had not gained it on her own account; and this giantwas completely gained over to her, when, amid all her sorrow andfeebleness, she never failed to minister to his sufferings to the utmost,while her questions about his original home, and revival of the name ofhis childhood, softened him, and awoke in him better feelings. He wouldhave died to serve her, and she might have headed an opposition party inthe castle, had she not been quite indifferent to all save her grief;and, except by sitting above the salt at the empty table, she laid noclaim to any honours or authority, and was more seldom than ever seenbeyond what was now called her own room.

  At last, when for the second time she was seeing the snow wreathsdwindle, and the drops shine forth in moisture again, while the mountainpaths were set free by the might of the springtide sun, she spoke almostfor the first time with authority, as she desired Heinz to saddle hermule, and escort her to join in the Easter mass at the BlessedFriedmund’s Chapel. Ursel heaped up objections; but so urgent wasChristina for confession and for mass, that the old woman had not theheart to stop her by a warning to the elder Baroness, and took thealternative of accompanying her. It was a glorious sparkling Easter Day,lovely blue sky above, herbage and flowers glistening below, snowdazzling in the hollows, peasants assembling in holiday garb, and allrejoicing. Even the lonely widow, in her heavy veil and black mufflings,took hope back to her heart, and smiled when at the church door a littlechild came timidly up to her with a madder-tinted Easter egg—a gift onceagain like the happy home customs of Ulm. She gave the child a kiss—shehad nothing else to give, but the sweet face sent it away strangely glad.

  The festival mass in all its exultation was not fully over, when anxiousfaces began to be seen at the door, and whisperings went round and manypassed out. Nobody at Adlerstein was particular about silence in church,and, when the service was not in progress, voices were not even lowered,and, after many attempts on the part of the Schneiderlein to attract theattention of his mistress, his voice immediately succeeded the _Ite missaest_, “Gracious lady, we must begone. Your mule is ready. There is aparty at the Debateable Ford, whether Schlangenwald or Wildschloss weknow not yet, but either way you must be the first thing placed insafety.”

  Christina turned deadly pale. She had long been ready to welcome deathas a peaceful friend; but, sheltered as her girlhood had been in thequiet city, she had never been brought in contact with warfare, and hernervous, timid temperament made the thought most appalling and frightfulto her, certain as she was that the old Baroness would resist to theuttermost. Father Norbert saw her extreme terror, and, with the thoughtthat he might comfort and support her, perhaps mediate between thecontending parties, plead that it was holy-tide, and proclaim the peaceof the church, or at the worst protect the lady herself, he offered hiscompany; but, though she thanked him, it was as if she scarcelyunderstood his kindness, and a shudder passed over her whenever theserfs, hastily summoned to augment the garrison, came hurrying down thepath, or turned aside into the more rugged and shorter descents. It wasstrange, the good father thought, that so timorous and fragile a beingshould have her lot cast amid these rugged places and scenes of violence,with no one to give her the care and cherishing she so much required.

  Even when she crept up the castle stairs, she was met with an angryrebuke, not so much for the peril she had incurred as for having takenaway the Schneiderlein, by far the most availing among the scanty remnantof the retainers of Adlerstein. Attempting no answer, and not evendaring to ask from what quarter came the alarm, Christina made her wayout of the turmoil to that chamber of her own, the scene of so much fearand sorrow, and yet of some share of peace and happiness. But from thewindow, near the fast subsiding waters of the Debateable Ford, couldplainly be seen the small troop of warriors, of whom Jobst the Kohler hadbrought immediate intelligence. The sun glistened on their armour, and abanner floated gaily on the wind; but they were a fearful sight to theinmates of the lonely castle.

  A stout heart was however Kunigunde’s best endowment; and, with thesteadiness and precision of a general, her commands rang out, as shearranged and armed her garrison, perfectly resolved against anysubmission, and confident in the strength of her castle; nay, not withouta hope of revenge either against Schlangenwald or Wildschloss, whom, as adegenerate Adlerstein, she hated only less than the slayer of her husbandand son.

  The afternoon of Easter Day however passed away without any movement onthe part of the enemy, and it was not till the following day that theycould be seen struggling through the ford, and preparing to ascend themountain. Attacks had sometimes been disconcerted by posting men in themost dangerous passes; but, in the lack of numbers, and of trustworthycommanders, the Freiherrinn had judged it wiser to trust entirely to herwalls, and keep her whole force within them.

  The new comers could hardly have had any hostile intentions, for, thoughwell armed and accoutred, their numbers did not exceed twenty-five. Thebanner borne at their head was an azure one, with a white eagle, andtheir leader could be observed looking with amazement at the top of thewatch-tower, where the same eagle had that morning been hoiste
d for thefirst time since the fall of the two Freiherren.

  So soon as the ascent had been made, the leader wound his horn, and,before the echoes had died away among the hills, Hatto, acting asseneschal, was demanding his purpose.

  “I am Kasimir von Adlerstein Wildschloss,” was the reply. “I havehitherto been hindered by stress of weather from coming to takepossession of my inheritance. Admit me, that I may arrange with thewidowed Frau Freiherrinn as to her dower and residence.”

  “The widowed Frau Freiherrinn, born of Adlerstein,” returned Hatto,“thanks the Freiherr von Adlerstein Wildschloss; but she holds the castleas guardian to the present head of the family, the Freiherr vonAdlerstein.”

  “It is false, old man,” exclaimed the Wildschloss; “the Freiherr had noother son.”

  “No,” said Hatto, “but Freiherr Eberhard hath left us twin heirs, ouryoung lords, for whom we hold this castle.”

  “This trifling will not serve!” sternly spoke the knight. “Eberhard vonAdlerstein died unmarried.”

  “Not so,” returned Hatto, “our gracious Frau Freiherrinn, the younger,was wedded to him at the last Friedmund Wake, by the special blessing ofour good patron, who would not see our house extinct.”

  “I must see thy lady, old man,” said Sir Kasimir, impatiently, not in theleast crediting the story, and believing his cousin Kunigunde quitecapable of any measure that could preserve to her the rule in SchlossAdlerstein, even to erecting some passing love affair of her son’s into amarriage. And he hardly did her injustice, for she had never made anyinquiry beyond the castle into the validity of Christina’s espousals, norsought after the friar who had performed the ceremony. She consented toan interview with the claimant of the inheritance, and descended to thegateway for the purpose. The court was at its cleanest, the thawing snowhaving newly washed away its impurities, and her proud figure, under herblack hood and veil, made an imposing appearance as she stood tall anddefiant in the archway.

  Sir Kasimir was a handsome man of about thirty, of partly Polish descent,and endowed with Slavonic grace and courtesy, and he had likewise beenemployed in negotiations with Burgundy, and had acquired much polish andknowledge of the world.

  “Lady,” he said, “I regret to disturb and intrude on a mourning family,but I am much amazed at the tidings I have heard; and I must pray of youto confirm them.”

  “I thought they would confound you,” composedly replied Kunigunde.

  “And pardon me, lady, but the Diet is very nice in requiring full proofs.I would be glad to learn what lady was chosen by my deceased cousinEberhard.”

  “The lady is Christina, daughter of his esquire, Hugh Sorel, of anhonourable family at Ulm.”

  “Ha! I know who and what Sorel was!” exclaimed Wildschloss. “Ladycousin, thou wouldst not stain the shield of Adlerstein with owning aughtthat cannot bear the examination of the Diet!”

  “Sir Kasimir,” said Kunigunde proudly, “had I known the truth ere myson’s death, I had strangled the girl with mine own hands! But I learntit only by his dying confession; and, had she been a beggar’s child, shewas his wedded wife, and her babes are his lawful heirs.”

  “Knowest thou time—place—witnesses?” inquired Sir Kasimir.

  “The time, the Friedmund Wake; the place, the Friedmund Chapel,” repliedthe Baroness. “Come hither, Schneiderlein. Tell the knight thy younglord’s confession.”

  He bore emphatic testimony to poor Eberhard’s last words; but as to thepoint of who had performed the ceremony, he knew not,—his mind had notretained the name.

  “I must see the Frau herself,” said Wildschloss, feeling certain thatsuch a being as he expected in a daughter of the dissolute lanzknechtSorel would soon, by dexterous questioning, be made to expose thefutility of her pretensions so flagrantly that even Kunigunde could notattempt to maintain them.

  For one moment Kunigunde hesitated, but suddenly a look of malignantsatisfaction crossed her face. She spoke a few words to Squinting Mätz,and then replied that Sir Kasimir should be allowed to satisfy himself,but that she could admit no one else into the castle; hers was a widow’shousehold, the twins were only a few hours old, and she could not openher gates to admit any person besides himself.

  So resolved on judging for himself was Adlerstein Wildschloss that allthis did not stagger him; for, even if he had believed more than he didof the old lady’s story, there would have been no sense of intrusion orimpropriety in such a visit to the mother. Indeed, had Christina beenliving in the civilized world, her chamber would have been hung withblack cloth, black velvet would have enveloped her up to the eyes, andthe blackest of cradles would have stood ready for her fatherless babe;two steps, in honour of her baronial rank, would have led to her bed, anda beaufet with the due baronial amount of gold and silver plate wouldhave held the comfits and caudle to be dispensed to all visitors. As itwas, the two steps built into the floor of the room, and the black hoodthat Ursel tied over her young mistress’s head, were the only traces thatsuch etiquette had ever been heard of.

  But when Baron Kasimir had clanked up the turret stairs, each stepbringing to her many a memory of him who should have been there, and whenhe had been led to the bedside, he was completely taken by surprise.

  Instead of the great, flat-faced, coarse comeliness of a German wench,treated as a lady in order to deceive him, he saw a delicate, lily-likeface, white as ivory, and the soft, sweet brown eyes under their droopinglashes, so full of innocence and sad though thankful content, that hefelt as if the inquiries he came to make were almost sacrilege.

  He had seen enough of the world to know that no agent in a clumsyimposition would look like this pure white creature, with her armencircling the two little swaddled babes, whose red faces and bald headsalone were allowed to appear above their mummy-like wrappings; and hecould only make an obeisance lower and infinitely more respectful thanthat with which he had favoured the Baroness _née_ von Adlerstein, with afew words of inquiry and apology.

  But Christina had her sons’ rights to defend now, and she had far morespirit to do so than ever she had had in securing her own position, and adelicate rose tint came into her cheek as she said in her soft voice,“The Baroness tells me, that you, noble sir, would learn who wedded me tomy dear and blessed lord, Sir Eberhard. It was Friar Peter of theFranciscan brotherhood of Offingen, an agent for selling indulgences.Two of his lay brethren were present. My dear lord gave his own name andmine in full after the holy rite; the friar promising his testimony if itwere needed. He is to be found, or at least heard of, at his owncloister; and the hermit at the chapel likewise beheld a part of theceremony.”

  “Enough, enough, lady,” replied Sir Kasimir; “forgive me for havingforced the question upon you.”

  “Nay,” replied Christina, with her blush deepening, “it is but just anddue to us all;” and her soft eyes had a gleam of exultation, as shelooked at the two little mummies that made up the _us_—“I would have allinquiries made in full.”

  “They shall be made, lady, as will be needful for the establishment ofyour son’s right as a free Baron of the empire, but not with any doubt onmy part, or desire to controvert that right. I am fully convinced, andonly wish to serve you and my little cousins. Which of them is the headof our family?” he added, looking at the two absolutely undistinguishablelittle chrysalises, so exactly alike that Christina herself was obligedto look for the black ribbon, on which a medal had been hung, round theneck of the elder. Sir Kasimir put one knee to the ground as he kissedthe red cheek of the infant and the white hand of the mother.

  “Lady cousin,” he said to Kunigunde, who had stood by all this time withan anxious, uneasy, scowling expression on her face, “I am satisfied. Iown this babe as the true Freiherr von Adlerstein, and far be it from meto trouble his heritage. Rather point out the way in which I may serveyou and him. Shall I represent all to the Emperor, and obtain hiswardship, so as to be able to protect you from any attacks by the enemiesof the house?”

  �
��Thanks, sir,” returned the elder lady, severely, seeing Christina’sgratified, imploring face. “The right line of Adlerstein can take careof itself without greedy guardians appointed by usurpers. Our submissionhas never been made, and the Emperor cannot dispose of our wardship.”

  And Kunigunde looked defiant, regarding herself and her grandson as quiteas good as the Emperor, and ready to blast her daughter-in-law with hereyes for murmuring gratefully and wistfully, “Thanks, noble sir, thanks!”

  “Let me at least win a friendly right in my young cousins,” said SirKasimir, the more drawn by pitying admiration towards their mother, as heperceived more of the grandmother’s haughty repulsiveness and want ofcomprehension of the dangers of her position. “They are not baptized?Let me become their godfather.”

  Christina’s face was all joy and gratitude, and even the grandmother madeno objection; in fact, it was the babes’ only chance of a noble sponsor;and Father Norbert, who had already been making ready for the baptism,was sent for from the hall. Kunigunde, meantime, moved about restlessly,went half-way down the stairs, and held council with some one there;Ursel likewise, bustled about, and Sir Kasimir remained seated on thechair that had been placed for him near Christina’s bed.

  She was able again to thank him, and add, “It may be that you will havemore cause than the lady grandmother thinks to remember your offer ofprotection to my poor orphans. Their father and grandfather were, invery deed, on their way to make submission.”

  “That is well known to me,” said Sir Kasimir. “Lady, I will do all in mypower for you. The Emperor shall hear the state of things; and, while noviolence is offered to travellers,” he added, lowering his tone, “I doubtnot he will wait for full submission till this young Baron be of age totender it.”

  “We are scarce in force to offer violence,” said Christina sighing. “Ihave no power to withstand the Lady Baroness. I am like a stranger here;but, oh! sir, if the Emperor and Diet will be patient and forbearing withthis desolate house, my babes, if they live, shall strive to requitetheir mercy by loyalty. And the blessing of the widow and fatherlesswill fall on you, most generous knight,” she added, fervently, holdingout her hand.

  “I would I could do more for you,” said the knight. “Ask, and all I cando is at your service.”

  “Ah, sir,” cried Christina, her eyes brightening, “there is one mostinestimable service you could render me—to let my uncle, MasterGottfried, the wood-carver of Ulm, know where I am, and of my state, andof my children.”

  Sir Kasimir repeated the name.

  “Yes,” she said. “There was my home, there was I brought up by my dearuncle and aunt, till my father bore me away to attend on the young ladyhere. It is eighteen months since they had any tidings from her who wasas a daughter to them.”

  “I will see them myself,” said Kasimir; “I know the name. Carved notMaster Gottfried the stall-work at Augsburg?”

  “Yes, indeed! In chestnut leaves! And the Misereres all with fairytales!” exclaimed Christina. “Oh, sir, thanks indeed! Bear to the dear,dear uncle and aunt their child’s duteous greetings, and tell them sheloves them with all her heart, and prays them to forgive her, and to prayfor her and her little ones! And,” she added, “my uncle may not havelearnt how his brother, my father, died by his lord’s side. Oh! prayhim, if ever he loved his little Christina, to have masses sung for myfather and my own dear lord.”

  As she promised, Ursel came to make the babes ready for their baptism,and Sir Kasimir moved away towards the window. Ursel was looking uneasyand dismayed, and, as she bent over her mistress, she whispered, “Lady,the Schneiderlein sends you word that Mätz has called him to help inremoving the props of the door you wot of when _he_ yonder steps acrossit. He would know if it be your will?”

  “The oubliette!” This was Frau Kunigunde’s usage of the relative who wasdoing his best for the welfare of her grandsons! Christina’s wholecountenance looked so frozen with horror, that Ursel felt as if she hadkilled her on the spot; but the next moment a flash of relief came overthe pale features, and the trembling lip commanded itself to say, “Mybest thanks to good Heinz. Say to him that I forbid it. If he loves thelife of his master’s children, he will abstain! Tell him so. Myblessings on him if this knight leave the castle safe, Ursel.” And herterrified earnest eyes impelled Ursel to hasten to do her bidding; butwhether it had been executed, there was no knowing, for almostimmediately the Freiherrinn and Father Norbert entered, and Urselreturned with them. Nay, the message given, who could tell if Heinzwould be able to act upon it? In the ordinary condition of the castle,he was indeed its most efficient inmate; Mätz did not approach him instrength, Hans was a cripple, Hatto would be on the right side; but Jobstthe Kohler, and the other serfs who had been called in for the defence,were more likely to hold with the elder than the younger lady. And FrauKunigunde herself, knowing well that the five-and-twenty men outsidewould be incompetent to avenge their master, confident in hernarrow-minded, ignorant pride that no one could take Schloss Adlerstein,and incapable of understanding the changes in society that were renderingher isolated condition untenable, was certain to scout any representationof the dire consequences that the crime would entail. Kasimir had nonear kindred, and private revenge was the only justice the Baronessbelieved in; she only saw in her crime the satisfaction of an old feud,and the union of the Wildschloss property with the parent stem.

  Seldom could such a christening have taken place as that of whichChristina’s bed-room was the scene—the mother scarcely able even to thinkof the holy sacrament for the horror of knowing that the one sponsor wasalready exulting in the speedy destruction of the other; and, poor littlefeeble thing, rallying the last remnants of her severely-tried powers toprevent the crime at the most terrible of risks.

  The elder babe received from his grandmother the hereditary name ofEberhard, but Sir Kasimir looked at the mother inquiringly, ere he gavethe other to the priest. Christina had well-nigh said, “Oubliette,” but,recalling herself in time, she feebly uttered the name she had longedafter from the moment she had known that two sons had been her Eastergift, “Gottfried,” after her beloved uncle. But Kunigunde caught thesound, and exclaimed, “No son of Adlerstein shall bear abase craftsman’sname. Call him Rächer (the avenger);” and in the word there already ranga note of victory and revenge that made Christina’s blood run cold. SirKasimir marked her trouble. “The lady mother loves not the sound,” hesaid, kindly. “Lady, have you any other wish? Then will I call himFriedmund.”

  Christina had almost smiled. To her the omen was of the best. BaronFriedmund had been the last common ancestor of the two branches of thefamily, the patron saint was so called, his wake was her wedding-day, thesound of the word imported peace, and the good Barons Ebbo and Friedelhad ever been linked together lovingly by popular memory. And so thesecond little Baron received the name of Friedmund, and then the knightof Wildschloss, perceiving, with consideration rare in a warrior, thatthe mother looked worn out and feverish, at once prepared to kiss herhand and take leave.

  “One more favour, Sir Knight,” she said, lifting up her head, while aburning spot rose on either cheek. “I beg of you to take my two babesdown—yes, both, both, in your own arms, and show them to your men, owningthem as your kinsmen and godsons.”

  Sir Kasimir looked exceedingly amazed, as if he thought the lady’s sensestaking leave of her, and Dame Kunigunde broke out into declarations thatit was absurd, and she did not know what she was talking of; but sherepeated almost with passion, “Take them, take them, you know not howmuch depends on it.” Ursel, with unusual readiness of wit, signed andwhispered that the young mother must be humoured, for fear ofconsequences; till the knight, in a good-natured, confused way, submittedto receive the two little bundles in his arms, while he gave place toKunigunde, who hastily stepped before him in a manner that made Christinatrust that her precaution would be effectual.

  The room was reeling round with her. The agony of those few
minutes wasbeyond all things unspeakable. What had seemed just before like acertain way of saving the guest without real danger to her children, nowappeared instead the most certain destruction to all, and herself theunnatural mother who had doomed her new-born babes for a stranger’s sake.She could not even pray; she would have shrieked to have them broughtback, but her voice was dead within her, her tongue clave to the roof ofher mouth, ringings in her ears hindered her even from listening to thedescending steps. She lay as one dead, when ten minutes afterwards thecry of one of her babes struck on her ear, and the next moment Urselstood beside her, laying them down close to her, and saying exultingly,“Safe! safe out at the gate, and down the hillside, and my old lady readyto gnaw off her hands for spite!”