‘You mean that I may make myself unpopular,’ she answered.
That was what I did mean — that at the least. And I bowed.
My lady shook her head with a grave smile. ‘I might give you an answer from Voetius, Martin,’ she said; ‘that they who govern are created to protect the weak against the strong. And if not, cui bono? But that, you may not understand. Shall I say then instead that I, and not Hofman or Dietz, am Countess of Heritzburg.’
‘My lady,’ I cried — and I could have knelt before her— ‘that is answer enough for me!’
‘Then go,’ she said, her face bright, ‘and do as I told you.’
She turned away, and I made my reverence and went out and down the stairs and through the great court with my head high and my heart high also. I might not understand Voetius; but I understood that my lady was one, who in face of all and in spite of all, come Hofman or Dietz, come peace or war, would not blench, but stand by the right! And it did me good. He is a bad horse that will not jump when his rider’s heart is right, and a bad servant that will not follow when his master goes before! I hummed a tune, I rattled my staff on the stones. I said to myself it was a thousand pities so gallant a spirit should be wasted on a woman: and then again I fancied that I could not have served a man as I knew I could and would serve her should time and the call ever put me to the test.
The castle at Heritzburg, rising abruptly above the roofs of the houses, is accessible from the town by a flight of steps cut in the rock. On the other three sides the knob on which it stands is separated from the wooded hills to which it belongs by a narrow ravine, crossed in one place by a light horse-bridge made in modern days. This forms the chief entrance to the castle, but the road which leads to it from the town goes so far round that it is seldom used, the flight of steps I have mentioned leading at once and more conveniently from the end of the High Street. Half way down the High Street on the right hand side is the Market-place, a small paved square, shaded by tall wooden houses, and having a carved stone pump in the middle. A hundred paces beyond this on the same side is the Red Hart, standing just within the West Gate.
From one end of the town to the other is scarcely a step, and I was at the inn before the Countess’s voice had ceased to sound in my ears. The door stood open, and I went in, expecting to find the kitchen empty or nearly so at that hour of the day. To my surprise, I found at least a dozen people in it, with as much noise and excitement going forward as if the yearly fair had been in progress. For a moment I was not observed. I had time to see who were present — Klink, the two soldiers who had put themselves forward the evening before, and half a score of idlers. Then the landlord’s eye fell on me and he passed the word. A sudden silence followed and a dozen faces turned my way; so that the room, which was low in the roof with wide beetle-browed windows, seemed to lighten.
‘Just in time, Master Schwartz!’ cried one fellow. ‘You, can write, and we are about a petition! Perhaps you will draw it up for us.’
‘A petition,’ I said shortly, eyeing the fellow with contempt. ‘What petition?’
‘Against Papists!’ he answered boldly.
‘And favourers, aiders, and abettors!’ exclaimed another in the background.
‘Master Klink, Master Klink,’ I said, trying to frown down the crowd, ‘you would do well to have a care. These ragamuffins — —’
‘Have a care yourself, Master Jackanapes!’ the same voice cried. ‘This is a town meeting.’
‘Town meeting!’ I said, looking round contemptuously. ‘Gaol-meeting, you mean, and likely to be a gaol-filling. But I do not speak to you; I leave that to the constable. For Master Klink, if he will take a word of advice, I will speak with him alone.’
They cried out to him not to speak to me. But Klink had still sense enough to know that he might be going too fast, and though they hooted and laughed at him — being for the most part people who had nothing to lose — he came out of the house with me and crossed the street that we might talk unheard. As civilly as I could I delivered my message; and as exactly, for I saw that the issue might be serious.
I was not surprised when he groaned, and in a kind of a tremor shook his hands. ‘I am not my own master, Schwartz,’ he said. ‘And that is the truth.’
‘You were your own master last night,’ I retorted.
‘These fellows are all for “No Popery.”’
‘Ay, and who gave them the cue?’ I said sharply. ‘It is not the first time that the fat burgher has raised the lean kine and been eaten by them. Nor will it be the last. It serves you right.’
‘I am willing enough to do what my lady wishes,’ he whimpered; ‘but — —’
‘But you are not master of your own house, do you mean?’ I exclaimed. ‘Then fetch the constable. That is simple. Or the Burgomaster.’
‘Hush!’ he said, ‘he is hotter than any one.’
‘Then,’ I answered flatly, ‘he had better cool, and you too. That is all I have to say. And mark me, Klink,’ I continued sternly, ‘see that no harm happens to that girl or her father. They are in your house, and you have heard what my lady says. Let those ruffians interfere with them and you will be held to answer for it.’
‘That is easy talking,’ he muttered peevishly; ‘but if I cannot help it?’
‘You will have to help it!’ I rejoined, losing my temper a little. ‘You were fool enough, or I am much mistaken, to set a light to this stack, and now you will have to smother the flame, or pay for it. That is all, my friend. You have had fair warning. The rest is in your own hands.’
And with that I left him. He was a stupid man but a sly one too, and I doubted his sincerity, or I might have taken another way with him. In the end, doubtless, it would have been the same.
As I turned on my heel to go, the troop round the door raised a kind of hoot; and this pursued me as I went up the street, bringing the blood to my cheeks and almost provoking me to return. I checked the impulse however, and strode on as if I did not hear; and by the time I reached the market-place the cry had ceased. Here however it began afresh; a number of loose fellows and lads who were loafing about the stalls crying ‘No Popery!’ and ‘Popish Schwartz!’ as I passed, in a way which showed that the thing was premeditated and that they had been lying in wait for me. I stopped and scowled at them, and for a moment they ceased. But the instant my back was turned the hooting began again — with an ugly savage note in it — and I had not got quite clear of the place when some one flung a bundle of carrots, which hit me sharply on the back. I swung round in a rage at that, and dashed hot foot into the middle of the stalls in the hope of catching the fellow. But I was too late; an old woman over whom I fell was the only sufferer. The rascals had fled down an alley, and, contenting myself with crying after them that they were a set of cowards, I set the old lady on her legs, and went on my way.
But I had my thoughts. Such an insult had not been offered to me since I first came to the town to serve my lady, and it filled me with indignation. It seemed, besides, not a thing to be sneezed at. I took it for a sign of change, of bad times coming. Moreover — and this troubled me as much as anything — I had recognised among the fellows in the square two more of the fifty men my lady had sent to serve with Hesse. There seemed ground for fearing that they had deserted in a body and come back and were in hiding. If this were so, and the Burgomaster, instead of repressing them, encouraged their excesses, they were likely to prove a source of trouble and danger — real danger.
I paused on the steps leading up to the castle, in two minds whether I should not go to the Burgomaster and tell him plainly what I thought; for I felt the responsibility. My lady had no male protector, no higher servant than myself, and we had not a dozen capable men in the castle. The Landgrave of Hesse, our over-lord, was away with the King of Sweden, and we could expect no immediate support from him. In the event of a riot in the town therefore — and I knew that, in the great Peasants’ War of a century before, our town had been rebellious enough — we should be practically help
less. An hour and a little ill-fortune might place my lady in the hands of her mutinous subjects; and though the Landgrave would be certain sooner or later to chastise them, many things might happen in the interval.
In the end I went on up the steps, thinking that I had better leave Hofman alone, since I could not trust him, and should only by applying to him disclose our weakness. There was a way indeed which occurred to me as I reached the head of the stairs, but I had not taken two steps across the terrace, as we call that part of the court which overlooks the town, before it was immediately driven out again. Fraulein Max was walking up and down with a book, sunning herself. I think that she had been watching for me, for the moment I appeared she called to me.
I went up to her reluctantly. I was anxious, and in no mood to listen to one of those learned disquisitions with which she would sometimes favour us, without any thought whether we understood her or no. But this I soon found was not what I had to fear. Her face wore a frown and her tone was peevish; but she closed her book, keeping her place in it with her finger.
‘Master Martin,’ she said, peering at me with her shortsighted eyes, ‘you are a very foolish man, I think.’
‘Fraulein!’ I muttered in surprise. What did she mean?
‘A very foolish one!’ she repeated. ‘Why are you disturbing your lady? Why do you not leave her to her studies and her peace instead of distracting her mind with these stories of a man and a girl? A man and a girl, and Papists! Piff! What are they to us? Don’t you understand that your lady has higher work and something else to do? Go you and look after your man and girl.’
‘But my lady’s subjects, Fraulein — —’
‘Her subjects?’ she replied, almost violently. ‘Papists are no subjects. Or to what purpose the Cujus Regio? But what do you know of government? You have heard and you repeat.’
‘But, Fraulein,’ I said humbly, for her way of talking made me seem altogether in the wrong, and a monster of indiscretion, ‘if my lady does not interfere, the man and the girl you speak of will suffer. That is clear.’
She snapped her fingers.
‘Piff!’ she cried, screwing up her eyes still more. ‘What has that to do with us? Is there not suffering going on from one end of Germany to the other? Do not scores die every day, every hour? Can we prevent it? No. Then why trouble us for this one little, little matter? It is theirs to suffer, and ours to think and read, and learn and write. We were at peace to do all this, and then you come with your man and girl, and the peace is gone!’
‘But, Fraulein — —’
‘You do no good by saying Fraulein, Fraulein!’ she replied. ‘Look at things in the light of reason. Trouble us no more. That is what you have to do. What are this man and girl to you that you should endanger your mistress for their sakes?’
‘They are nothing to me,’ I answered.
‘Then let them go!’ she replied with suppressed passion. ‘And undo your folly the best way you can, and the sooner the better! Chut! That when the mind is set on higher things it should be distracted by such mean and miserable objects! If they are nothing to you, why in heaven’s name obtrude them on us?’
After that she would not hear another word, but dismissed me with a wave of her hand as if the thing were fully settled and over; burying herself in her book and turning away, while I went into the house with my tail between my legs and all my doubts and misgivings increased a hundredfold. For this which she had put into words was the very thought, the very way out of it, which had occurred to me! I had only to let the matter drop, I had only to leave these people to their fate, and the danger and difficulty were at once at an end. For a time my lady’s authority might suffer perhaps; but at the proper season, when the Landgrave was at home and could help us, we might cheaply assert and confirm it.
All that day I went about in doubt what I should do; and night came without resolving my perplexities. At one moment I thought of my duty to my lady, and the calamities in which I might involve her. At another I pictured the girl I had seen praying by her father’s bed — pictured her alone and defenceless, hourly insulted by Klink, and with terror and uncertainty looming each day larger before her eyes: or, worse still, abandoned to all the dangers which awaited her, in the event of the town refusing to give her shelter. Considering that I had seen her once only — to notice her — it was wonderful how clearly I remembered her.
CHAPTER III.
THE BURGOMASTER’S DEMAND.
As it turned out, the other party took the burden of decision from my shoulders. When I came out of chapel next morning, I found Hofman on the terrace waiting for me, and with him Master Dietz wearing his Geneva gown and a sour face. They wished to see my lady. I said it was early yet, and tried to hold them in talk if only that I might learn what they would be at. But they repulsed my advances, said that they knew her excellency always transacted her business at this hour — which was perfectly true — and at last sent me to the parlour whether I would or no.
Under such circumstances I did not linger behind the screen, but advanced at once, and interrupting Fraulein Max, who had just begun to read aloud, while my lady worked, said that the Burgomaster desired the honour of an interview with the Countess.
The latter passed her needle once through the stuff, and then looked up. ‘Do you know what he wants, Martin?’ she said in a quiet tone.
I said I did not.
She bent her head and worked for a moment in silence. Then she sighed gently, and without looking up, nodded to me. ‘Very well, I will see him here,’ she said. ‘But first send Grissel and Gretchen to wait on me. Let Franz bring two stools and place them, and bid him and Ernst keep the door. My footstool also. And let the two Jacobs wait in the hall.’
I gave the orders and took on myself to place two extra lackeys in the hall that we might not seem to be short of men. Then I went to the Burgomaster, and attended him and Master Dietz to the parlour.
They bowed three times according to custom as they advanced, and my lady, taking one step forward, gave her hand to the Burgomaster to kiss. Then she stepped back and sat down, looking with a pleasant face at the Minister. ‘I would fain apologise for troubling your excellency,’ the Mayor began slowly and heavily. ‘But the times are trying.’
‘Your presence needs no apology, Master Hofman,’ my lady answered, smiling frankly. ‘It is your right to see me on behalf of the town at all times. It would grieve me much, if you did not sometimes exercise the privilege. And for Master Dietz, who may be able to assist us, I am glad to see him also.’
The Minister bowed low. The Burgomaster only puffed out his cheeks. Doubtless he felt that courage at the Red Hart and courage in my lady’s parlour were two different things. But it was too late to retreat, for the Minister was there to report what passed; and after a glance at Dietz’s face he proceeded. ‘I am not here in a private capacity, if it please your excellency,’ he said. ‘And I beg your excellency to bear this in mind. I am here as Burgomaster, having on my mind the peace of the town; which at present is endangered — very greatly, endangered,’ he repeated pompously.
‘I am sorry to hear that,’ my lady answered.
‘Nevertheless it is so,’ he replied with a kind of obstinacy. ‘Endangered by the presence of certain persons in the town, whose manners are not conformable. These persons are Papists, and the town, your excellency remembers, is a Protestant town.’
‘Certainly I remember that,’ my lady said gravely.
‘Hence of this combination, your excellency will understand, comes a likelihood of evil,’ he continued. ‘On which, hearing you took an interest in these persons, however little deserved, it seemed to be my duty to lay the matter before you.’
‘You have done very rightly,’ the Countess answered quietly. ‘Do I understand then, Master Hofman, that the Papists you complain of are conspiring to break the peace of the town?’
The Burgomaster gasped. He was too obtuse to see at once that my lady was playing with him. He only wondered how h
e had managed to convey so strange a notion to her mind. He hastened to set her right. ‘No — oh, no,’ he said. ‘There is no fear of that. There are but three of them.’
‘Are they presuming to perform their rites in public then?’ my lady rejoined. ‘If so, of course it cannot be permitted. It is against the law of the town.’
‘No,’ he answered, more slowly and more reluctantly as the drift of her questions began to dawn upon him. ‘I do not know that that is so. I have not heard that it is so. But they are Papists.’
‘Well, but with their consciences we have nothing to do!’ she said more sharply. ‘I confess, I fail as yet to see, Master Hofman, how they threaten the peace of the town.’
The Burgomaster stared. ‘I do not know that they threaten it themselves,’ he said slowly. ‘But their presence stirs up the people, if your excellency understands; and may lead, if the matter goes on, to a riot or worse.’
‘Ha! Now I comprehend!’ my lady cried in a hearty tone. ‘You fear your constables may fail to cope with the rabble?’
He admitted that that was so.
‘And you desire such assistance as I can offer towards maintaining the law and protecting these persons; who have of course a right to protection?’
Master Hofman began to see whither he had been led, and glared at the Countess with his mouth wide open. But for the moment he could not find a word to say. Never did I see a man look more at a loss.
‘Well, I must consider,’ my lady resumed, her finger to her cheek. ‘Rest assured, you shall be supported. Martin,’ she continued, turning to me, ‘let word be sent to the four foresters at Gatz to come down to the castle this evening. And send also to the charcoal-burners’ camp. How many men should there be in it?’
‘Some half-score, my lady,’ I answered, adding two-thirds to the truth.
‘Ah? And let the huntsman come down and bring a couple of feeders. Doubtless with our own men, we shall be able to place a score or thirty at your disposal, Master Hofman, and stout fellows. These, with your constables and such of the peaceful burghers as you see fit to call to your assistance, should be sufficient to quell the disorderly.’
Complete Works of Stanley J Weyman Page 128