The Dove in the Eagle's Nest

by Charlotte M. Yonge

  CHAPTER XVIIBRIDGING THE FORD

  The snow melted, the torrent became a flood, then contracted itself, butwas still a broad stream, when one spring afternoon Ebbo showed hisbrother some wains making for the ford, adding, “It cannot be rightlypassable. They will come to loss. I shall get the men together to aidthem.”

  He blew a blast on his horn, and added, “The knaves will be alert enoughif they hope to meddle with honest men’s luggage.”

  “See,” and Friedel pointed to the thicket to the westward of the meadowaround the stream, where the beech trees were budding, but not yetforming a full mass of verdure, “is not the Snake in the wood? MethinksI spy the glitter of his scales.”

  “By heavens, the villains are lying in wait for the travellers at ourlanding-place,” cried Ebbo, and again raising the bugle to his lips, hesent forth three notes well known as a call to arms. Their echoes cameback from the rocks, followed instantly by lusty jodels, and the brothersrushed into the hall to take down their light head-pieces and corslets,answering in haste their mother’s startled questions, by telling of theendangered travellers, and the Schlangenwald ambush. She looked whiteand trembled, but said no word to hinder them; only as she claspedFriedel’s corslet, she entreated them to take fuller armour.

  “We must speed the short way down the rock,” said Ebbo, “and cannot becumbered with heavy harness. Sweet motherling, fear not; but let a mealbe spread for our rescued captives. Ho, Heinz, ’tis against theSchlangenwald rascals. Art too stiff to go down the rock path?”

  “No; nor down the abyss, could I strike a good stroke againstSchlangenwald at the bottom of it,” quoth Heinz.

  “Nor see vermin set free by the Freiherr,” growled Koppel; but the wordswere lost in Ebbo’s loud commands to the men, as Friedel and Hatto handeddown the weapons to them.

  The convoy had by this time halted, evidently to try the ford. Ahorseman crossed, and found it practicable, for a waggon proceeded tomake the attempt.

  “Now is our time,” said Ebbo, who was standing on the narrow ledgebetween the castle and the precipitous path leading to the meadow. “Onewaggon may get over, but the second or third will stick in the ruts thatit leaves. Now we will drop from our crag, and if the Snake falls onthem, why, then for a pounce of the Eagle.”

  The two young knights, so goodly in their bright steel, knelt for theirmother’s blessing, and then sprang like chamois down the ivy-twinedsteep, followed by their men, and were lost to sight among the bushes androcks. Yet even while her frame quivered with fear, her heart swelled atthe thought what a gulf there was between these days and those when shehad hidden her face in despair, while Ermentrude watched the DebateableFord.

  She watched now in suspense, indeed, but with exultation instead ofshame, as two waggons safely crossed; but the third stuck fast, andpresently turned over in the stream, impelled sideways by the efforts ofthe struggling horses. Then, amid endeavours to disentangle the animalsand succour the driver, the travellers were attacked by a party of armedmen, who dashed out of the beechwood, and fell on the main body of thewaggons, which were waiting on the bit of bare shingly soil that laybetween the new and old channels. A wild mêlée was all that Christinacould see—weapons raised, horses starting, men rushing from the river,while the clang and the shout rose even to the castle.

  Hark! Out rings the clear call, “The Eagle to the rescue!” There theyspeed over the meadow, the two slender forms with glancing helms! Ooverrun not the followers, rush not into needless danger! There isKoppel almost up with them with his big axe—Heinz’s broad shoulders near.Heaven strike with them! Visit not their forefathers’ sin on those purespirits. Some are flying. Some one has fallen! O heavens! on whichside? Ah! it is into the Schlangenwald woods that the fugitives directtheir flight. Three—four—the whole troop pursued! Go not too far! Runnot into needless risk! Your work is done, and gallantly. Well done,young knights of Adlerstein! Which of you is it that stands pointing outsafe standing-ground for the men that are raising the waggon? Which ofyou is it who stands in converse with a burgher form? Thanks andblessings! the lads are safe, and full knightly hath been their firstemprise.

  A quarter of an hour later, a gay step mounted the ascent, and Friedel’sbright face laughed from his helmet: “There, mother, will you crown yourknights? Could you see Ebbo bear down the chief squire? for the oldSnake was not there himself. And whom do you think we rescued, besides awhole band of Venetian traders to whom he had joined himself? Why, myuncle’s friend, the architect, of whom he used to speak—Master MoritzSchleiermacher.”

  “Moritz Schleiermacher! I knew him as a boy.”

  “He had been laying out a Lustgarten for the Romish king at Innspruck,and he is a stout man of his hands, and attempted defence; but he hadsuch a shrewd blow before we came up, that he lay like one dead; and whenhe was lifted up, he gazed at us like one moon-struck, and said, ‘Are myeyes dazed, or are these the twins of Adlerstein, that are as like asface to mirror? Lads, lads, your uncle looked not to hear of you actingin this sort.’ But soon we and his people let him know how it was, andthat eagles do not have the manner of snakes.”

  “Poor Master Moritz! Is he much hurt? Is Ebbo bringing him up hither?”

  “No, mother, he is but giddied and stunned, and now must you send downstore of sausage, sourkraut, meat, wine, and beer; for the wains cannotall cross till daylight, and we must keep ward all night lest theSchlangenwalden should fall on them again. Plenty of good cheer, mother,to make a right merry watch.”

  “Take heed, Friedel mine; a merry watch is scarce a safe one.”

  “Even so, sweet motherling, and therefore must Ebbo and I share it. Youmust mete out your liquor wisely, you see, enough for the credit ofAdlerstein, and enough to keep out the marsh fog, yet not enough to makeus snore too soundly. I am going to take my lute; it would be using itill not to let it enjoy such a chance as a midnight watch.”

  So away went the light-hearted boy, and by and by Christina saw the redwatch-fire as she gazed from her turret window. She would have beenpleased to see how, marshalled by a merchant who had crossed the desertfrom Egypt to Palestine, the waggons were ranged in a circle, and thewatches told off, while the food and drink were carefully portioned out.

  Freiherr Ebbo, on his own ground, as champion and host, was far more atease than in the city, and became very friendly with the merchants andarchitect as they sat round the bright fire, conversing, or at timeschallenging the mountain echoes by songs to the sound of Friedel’s lute.When the stars grew bright, most lay down to sleep in the waggons, whileothers watched, pacing up and down till Karl’s waggon should be over themountain, and the vigil was relieved.

  No disturbance took place, and at sunrise a hasty meal was partaken of,and the work of crossing the river was set in hand.

  “Pity,” said Moritz, the architect, “that this ford were not spanned by abridge, to the avoiding of danger and spoil.”

  “Who could build such a bridge?” asked Ebbo.

  “Yourself, Herr Freiherr, in union with us burghers of Ulm. It were wellworth your while to give land and stone, and ours to give labour andskill, provided we fixed a toll on the passage, which would be willinglypaid to save peril and delay.”

  The brothers caught at the idea, and the merchants agreed that such abridge would be an inestimable boon to all traffickers between Constance,Ulm, and Augsburg, and would attract many travellers who were scared awayby the evil fame of the Debateable Ford. Master Moritz looked at thestone of the mountain, pronounced it excellent material, and alreadysketched the span of the arches with a view to winter torrents. As tothe site, the best was on the firm ground above the ford; but here onlyone side was Adlerstein, while on the other Ebbo claimed both banks, andit was probable that an equally sound foundation could be obtained, onlywith more cost and delay.

  After this survey, the travellers took leave of the barons, promising towrite when their fellow-citizens should have been sounded as to thebr
idge; and Ebbo remained in high spirits, with such brilliant purposesthat he had quite forgotten his gloomy forebodings. “Peace instead ofwar at home,” he said; “with the revenue it will bring, I will build amill, and set our lads to work, so that they may become less dull anddoltish than their parents. Then will we follow the Emperor with a trainthat none need despise! No one will talk now of Adlerstein not beingable to take care of himself!”

  Letters came from Ulm, saying that the guilds of mercers and winemerchants were delighted with the project, and invited the Baron ofAdlerstein to a council at the Rathhaus. Master Sorel begged the motherto come with her sons to be his guest; but fearing the neighbourhood ofSir Kasimir, she remained at home, with Heinz for her seneschal while hersons rode to the city. There Ebbo found that his late exploit and hisfuture plan had made him a person of much greater consideration than onhis last visit, and he demeaned himself with far more ease and affabilityin consequence. He had affairs on his hands too, and felt more than oneyear older.

  The two guilds agreed to build the bridge, and share the toll with theBaron in return for the ground and materials; but they preferred the planthat placed one pier on the Schlangenwald bank, and proposed to write tothe Count an offer to include him in the scheme, awarding him a share ofthe profits in proportion to his contribution. However vexed at the turnaffairs had taken, Ebbo could offer no valid objection, and was obligedto affix his signature to the letter in company with the guildmasters.

  It was despatched by the city pursuivants—

  The only men who safe might ride; Their errands on the border side;

  and a meeting was appointed in the Rathhaus for the day of their expectedreturn. The higher burghers sat on their carved chairs in the grand oldhall, the lesser magnates on benches, and Ebbo, in an elbowed seat fartoo spacious for his slender proportions, met a glance from Friedel thattold him his merry brother was thinking of the frog and the ox. Thepursuivants entered—hardy, shrewd-looking men, with the city arms deckingthem wherever there was room for them.

  “Honour-worthy sirs,” they said, “no letter did the Graf vonSchlangenwald return.”

  “Sent he no message?” demanded Moritz Schleiermacher.

  “Yea, worthy sir, but scarce befitting this reverend assembly.” On beingpressed, however, it was repeated: “The Lord Count was pleased to swearat what he termed the insolence of the city in sending him heralds, ‘asif,’ said he, ‘the dogs,’ your worships, ‘were his equals.’ Then havingcursed your worships, he reviled the crooked writing of Herr ClerkDiedrichson, and called his chaplain to read it to him. Herr Priestcould scarce read three lines for his foul language about the ford.‘Never,’ said he, ‘would he consent to raising a bridge—a mean trick,’ sosaid he, ‘for defrauding him of his rights to what the flood sent him.’”

  “But,” asked Ebbo, “took he no note of our explanation, that if he givenot the upper bank, we will build lower, where both sides are my own?”

  “He passed it not entirely over,” replied the messenger.

  “What said he—the very words?” demanded Ebbo, with the paling cheek andlow voice that made his passion often seem like patience.

  “He said—(the Herr Freiherr will pardon me for repeating the words)—hesaid, ‘Tell the misproud mongrel of Adlerstein that he had best sit firmin his own saddle ere meddling with his betters, and if he touch onepebble of the Braunwasser, he will rue it. And before your city-folktake up with him or his, they had best learn whether he have any right atall in the case.’”

  “His right is plain,” said Master Gottfried; “full proofs were given in,and his investiture by the Kaisar forms a title in itself. It is merebravado, and an endeavour to make mischief between the Baron and thecity.”

  “Even so did I explain, Herr Guildmaster,” said the pursuivant; “but,pardon me, the Count laughed me to scorn, and quoth he, ‘asked the Kaisarfor proof of his father’s death!’”

  “Mere mischief-making, as before,” said Master Gottfried, while hisnephews started with amaze. “His father’s death was proved by aneye-witness, whom you still have in your train, have you not, HerrFreiherr?”

  “Yea,” replied Ebbo, “he is at Adlerstein now, Heinrich Bauermann, calledthe Schneiderlein, a lanzknecht, who alone escaped the slaughter, andfrom whom we have often heard how my father died, choked in his ownblood, from a deep breast-wound, immediately after he had sent home hislast greetings to my lady mother.”

  “Was the corpse restored?” asked the able Rathsherr Ulrich.

  “No,” said Ebbo. “Almost all our retainers had perished, and when afriar was sent to the hostel to bring home the remains, it appeared thatthe treacherous foe had borne them off—nay, my grandfather’s head wassent to the Diet!”

  The whole assembly agreed that the Count could only mean to make theabsence of direct evidence about a murder committed eighteen years agotell in sowing distrust between the allies. The suggestion was not wortha thought, and it was plain that no site would be available except theDebateable Strand. To this, however, Ebbo’s title was assailable, bothon account of his minority, as well as his father’s unproved death, andof the disputed claim to the ground. The Rathsherr, Master Gottfried,and others, therefore recommended deferring the work till the Baronshould be of age, when, on again tendering his allegiance, he mightobtain a distinct recognition of his marches. But this policy did notconsort with the quick spirit of Moritz Schleiermacher, nor with theconvenience of the mercers and wine-merchants, who were constantsufferers by the want of a bridge, and afraid of waiting four years, inwhich a lad like the Baron might return to the nominal instincts of hisclass, or the Braunwasser might take back the land it had given; whilstEbbo himself was urgent, with all the defiant fire of youth, to beginbuilding at once in spite of all gainsayers.

  “Strife and blood will it cost,” said Master Sorel, gravely.

  “What can be had worth the having save at cost of strife and blood?” saidEbbo, with a glance of fire.

  “Youth speaks of counting the cost. Little knows it what it saith,”sighed Master Gottfried.

  “Nay,” returned the Rathsherr, “were it otherwise, who would have theheart for enterprise?”

  So the young knights mounted, and had ridden about half the way insilence, when Ebbo exclaimed, “Friedel”—and as his brother started, “Whatart musing on?”

  “What thou art thinking of,” said Friedel, turning on him an eye that hadnot only something of the brightness but of the penetration of a sunbeam.

  “I do not think thereon at all,” said Ebbo, gloomily. “It is a figmentof the old serpent to hinder us from snatching his prey from him.”

  “Nevertheless,” said Friedel, “I cannot but remember that the Genoesemerchant of old told us of a German noble sold by his foes to the Moors.”

  “Folly! That tale was too recent to concern my father.”

  “I did not think it did,” said Friedel; “but mayhap that noble’s familyrest equally certain of his death.”

  “Pfui!” said Ebbo, hotly; “hast not heard fifty times how he died even inspeaking, and how Heinz crossed his hands on his breast? What wouldsthave more?”

  “Hardly even that,” said Friedel, slightly smiling.

  “Tush!” hastily returned his brother, “I meant only by way of proof.Would an honest old fellow like Heinz be a deceiver?”

  “Not wittingly. Yet I would fain ride to that hostel and makeinquiries!”

  “The traitor host met his deserts, and was broken on the wheel formurdering a pedlar a year ago,” said Ebbo. “I would I knew where myfather was buried, for then would I bring his corpse honourably back; butas to his being a living man, I will not have it spoken of to trouble mymother.”

  “To trouble her?” exclaimed Friedel.

  “To trouble her,” repeated Ebbo. “Long since hath passed the pang of hisloss, and there is reason in what old Sorel says, that he must have beena rugged, untaught savage, with little in common with the gentle one, andthat
tender memory hath decked him out as he never could have been. Nay,Friedel, it is but sense. What could a man have been under thegranddame’s breeding?”

  “It becomes not thee to say so!” returned Friedel. “Nay, he could learnto love our mother.”

  “One sign of grace, but doubtless she loved him the better for theirhaving been so little together. Her heart is at peace, believing him inhis grave; but let her imagine him in Schlangenwald’s dungeon, or someMoorish galley, if thou likest it better, and how will her mild spirit berent!”

  “It might be so,” said Friedel, thoughtfully. “It may be best to keepthis secret from her till we have fuller certainty.”

  “Agreed then,” said Ebbo, “unless the Wildschloss fellow should againmolest us, when his answer is ready.”

  “Is this just towards my mother?” said Friedel.

  “Just! What mean’st thou? Is it not our office and our dearest right toshield our mother from care? And is not her chief wish to be rid of theWildschloss suit?”

  Nevertheless Ebbo was moody all the way home, but when there he devotedhimself in his most eager and winning way to his mother, telling her ofMaster Gottfried’s woodcuts, and Hausfrau Johanna’s rheumatism, and ofall the news of the country, in especial that the Kaisar was at Lintz,very ill with a gangrene in his leg, said to have been caused by hishabit of always kicking doors open, and that his doctors thought ofamputation, a horrible idea in the fifteenth century. The young baronwas evidently bent on proving that no one could make his mother so happyas he could; and he was not far wrong there.

  Friedel, however, could not rest till he had followed Heinz to thestable, and speaking over the back of the old white mare, the only othersurvivor of the massacre, had asked him once more for the particulars, atale he was never loth to tell; but when Friedel further demanded whetherhe was certain of having seen the death of his younger lord, he replied,as if hurt: “What, think you I would have quitted him while life was yetin him?”

  “No, certainly, good Heinz; yet I would fain know by what tokens thouknewest his death.”

  “Ah! Sir Friedel; when you have seen a stricken field or two, you willnot ask how I know death from life.”

  “Is a swoon so utterly unlike death?”

  “I say not but that an inexperienced youth might be mistaken,” saidHeinz; “but for one who had learned the bloody trade, it were impossible.Why ask, sir?”

  “Because,” said Friedel, low and mysteriously—“my brother would not havemy mother know it, but—Count Schlangenwald demanded whether we couldprove my father’s death.”

  “Prove! He could not choose but die with three such wounds, as the oldruffian knows. I shall bless the day, Sir Friedmund, when I see you oryour brother give back those strokes! A heavy reckoning be his.”

  “We all deem that line only meant to cross our designs,” said Friedel.“Yet, Heinz, I would I knew how to find out what passed when thou wastgone. Is there no servant at the inn—no retainer of Schlangenwald thataught could be learnt from?”

  “By St. Gertrude,” roughly answered the Schneiderlein, “if you cannot besatisfied with the oath of a man like me, who would have given his lifeto save your father, I know not what will please you.”

  Friedel, with his wonted good-nature, set himself to pacify the warriorwith assurances of his trust; yet while Ebbo plunged more eagerly intoplans for the bridge-building, Friedel drew more and more into his oldworld of musings; and many a summer afternoon was spent by him at thePtarmigan’s Mere, in deep communings with himself, as one revolving apurpose.

  Christina could not but observe, with a strange sense of foreboding,that, while one son was more than ever in the lonely mountain heights,the other was far more at the base. Master Moritz Schleiermacher was aconstant guest at the castle, and Ebbo was much taken up with hiscompanionship. He was a strong, shrewd man, still young, but with muchexperience, and he knew how to adapt himself to intercourse with theproud nobility, preserving an independent bearing, while avoiding allthat haughtiness could take umbrage at; and thus he was acquiring agreater influence over Ebbo than was perceived by any save the watchfulmother, who began to fear lest her son was acquiring an infusion ofworldly wisdom and eagerness for gain that would indeed be a severancebetween him and his brother.

  If she had known the real difference that unconsciously kept her sonsapart, her heart would have ached yet more.