by Georg Ebers
CHAPTER XII.
During the singing in the chapel on the fast day Barbara had waitedvainly for a word of appreciation from the Emperor. The Queen of Hungaryhad gone to the chase, and the monarch had remained in his apartments,while she had done her best below. A few lords and ladies of the court,several priests, knights, and pages had been the only listeners.
This had sorely irritated her easily wounded sensitiveness, but she hadappeared at the rehearsal in the New Scales on the following morning.Again she reaped lavish praise, but several times she met Appenzelder'swell-founded criticisms with opposition.
The radiant cheerfulness which, the day before yesterday, had investedher nature with an irresistible charm had vanished.
When the tablatures were at last laid aside, and the invitation tosing in the Golden Cross did not yet arrive, her features and her wholemanner became so sullen that even some of the choir boys noticed it.
Since the day before a profound anxiety had filled her whole soul, andshe herself wondered that it had been possible for her to conquer itjust now during the singing.
How totally different an effect she had expected her voice--which eventhe greatest connoisseurs deemed worthy of admiration--to produce uponthe music-loving Emperor!
What did she care if the evening of the day before yesterday the Queenof Hungary had paid her fine compliments and assured her of the highapproval of her imperial brother, since Appenzelder had informed heryesterday that it was necessary to conceal from his Majesty the factthat a woman was occupying the place of the lad from Cologne, Johannes.The awkward giant had been unfriendly to women ever since, many yearsbefore, his young wife had abandoned him for a Neapolitan officer, andhis bad opinion of the fairer sex had been by no means lessened whenBarbara, at this communication, showed with pitiless frankness the angerand mortification which it aroused in her mind. A foul fiend, he assuredGombert, was hidden in that golden-haired delight of the eyes with thesiren voice; but the leader of the orchestra had interceded for her, andthought that her complaint was just. So great an artist was too good tofill the place of substitute for a sick boy who sang for low wages.She had obliged him merely to win the applause of the Emperor and hisillustrious sister, and to have the regent turn her back upon Ratisbonjust at this time, and without having informed his Majesty whose voicehad with reason aroused his delight, would be felt even by a gentlerwoman as an injury.
Appenzelder could not help admitting this, and then dejectedly promisedBarbara to make amends as soon as possible for the wrong which theregent, much against his will, had committed.
He was compelled to use all the power of persuasion at his command tokeep her in the boy choir, at least until the poisoned members couldbe employed again, for she threatened seriously to withdraw her aid infuture.
Wolf, too, had a difficult position with the girl whom his persuasionhad induced to enter the choir. What Appenzelder ascribed to thedevil himself, he attributed merely to the fervour of her fiery artisttemperament. Yet her vehement outburst of wrath had startled him also,and a doubt arose in his mind as to what matrimonial life might be witha companion who, in spite of her youth, ventured to oppose elderly,dignified men so irritably and sharply. But at the very next song whichhad greeted him from her rosy lips this scruple was forgotten. Withsparkling eyes he assented to Gombert's protestation that, in her wrath,she had resembled the goddess Nemesis, and looked more beautiful thanever.
In spite of his gray hair, she seemed to have bewitched the greatmusician, like so many other men, and this only enhanced her value inWolf's sight.
Urgently, nay, almost humbly, he at last entreated her to have patience,for, if not at noon, his Majesty would surely desire to hear the boychoir in the evening. Besides, he added, she must consider it a greatcompliment that his Majesty had summoned the singers to the Glen Crossthe evening before at all, for on such days of fasting and commemorationthe Emperor was in the habit of devoting himself to silent reflection,and shunned every amusement.
But honest Appenzelder, who frankly contradicted everything opposed tothe truth, would not let this statement pass. Nay, he interrupted Wolfwith the assurance that, on the contrary, the Emperor on such daysfrequently relied upon solemn hymns to transport him into a fittingmood. Besides, the anniversary was past, and if his Majesty did notdesire to hear them to-day, business, or the gout, or indigestion, ora thousand other reasons might be the cause. They must simply submitto the pleasure of royalty. They was entirely in accordance with customthat his Majesty did not leave his apartments the day before. He neverdid so on such anniversaries unless he or Gombert had something unusualto offer.
Barbara bit her lips, and, while the May sun shone brilliantly into thehall, exclaimed:
"So, since this time you could offer him nothing 'unusual,' Master, Iwill beg you to grant me leave of absence." Then turning swiftly uponher heel and calling to Wolf, by way of explanation, "The Schlumpergersand others are going to Prufening to-day, and they invited me to the Mayexcursion too. It will be delightful, and I shall be glad if you'll comewith us."
The leader of the choir saw his error, and with earnest warmth entreatedher not to make his foolish old head suffer for it. "If, after all,his Majesty should desire to hear the choir that noon, it would only bebecause----"
Here he hesitated, and then reluctantly made the admission--"Because youyourself, you fair one, who turns everybody's bead, are the 'unusual'something which our sovereign lord would fain hear once more, if thegout does not----"
Then Barbara laughed gaily in her clear, bell like tones, seized theclumsy Goliath's long, pointed beard, and played all sorts of pranksupon him with such joyous mirth that, when she at last released him, heran after her like a young lover to catch her; but she had nimbler feet,and he was far enough behind when she called from the threshold:
"I won't let myself be caught, but since your pretty white goat's beardbewitches me, I'll be obliging to-day."
She laughingly kissed her hand to him from the doorway as she spoke,and it seemed as though her yielding was to be instantly rewarded, forbefore she left the house Chamberlain de Praet appeared to summon thechoir to the Golden Cross at one o'clock.
Barbara's head was proudly erect as she crossed the square. Wolffollowed her, and, on reaching home, found her engaged in a littledispute with her father.
The latter had been much disgusted with himself for his complaisance theday before. Although Wolf had come to escort Barbara to the Emperor'slodgings, he had accompanied his child to the Golden Cross, where shewas received by Maestro Appenzelder. Then, since he could only haveheard the singing under conditions which seemed unendurable to hispride, he sullenly retired to drink his beer in the tap-room of the NewScales.
As, on account of the late hour, he found no other guest, he didnot remain there long, but returned to the Haidplatz to go home withBarbara.
This he considered his paternal duty, for already he saw in imaginationthe counts and knights who, after the Emperor and the Queen had loadedher with praise and honour, would wish to escort her home. Dainty pagescertainly would not be deprived of the favour of carrying her train andlighting her way with torches. But he knew courtiers and these saucyscions of the noblest houses, and hoped that her father's presence wouldhold their insolence in check. Therefore he had endeavoured to give tohis outer man an appearance which would command respect, for he wore hishelmet, his coat of mail, and over it the red scarf which his dead wifehad embroidered with gold flowers and mountains-his coat-of-arms.
In spite of the indispensable cane in his right hand, he wore his longbattle sword, but he would have been wiser to leave it at home.
While pacing up and down before the Golden Cross in the silent night towait for his daughter, the halberdiers at the entrance noticed him.
What was the big man doing here at this late hour? How dared he ventureto wear a sword in the precincts of the Emperor's residence, contrary tothe law, and, moreover, a weapon of such unusual length and width, whichhad not been carri
ed for a long while?
After the guards were relieved they had suddenly surrounded him, and,in spite of his vigorous resistance, would have taken him prisoner. Butfortunately the musicians, among them Barbara and Wolf, had just comeout into the street, and the latter had told the sergeant of theguards, whom he knew, how mistaken he had been concerning the suspicionspedestrian, and obtained his release. Thus the careful father's hopeshad been frustrated. But when he learned that his daughter had not seenthe Emperor at all, and had neither been seen nor spoken to by him, hegave--notwithstanding his reverence for the sacred person of his mightycommander--full expression to his indignation.
Fool that he had been to permit Barbara to present herself at court witha troop of ordinary singing boys! Even on the following day he persistedin the declaration that it was his duty, as a father and a nobleman, toprotect his daughter from further humiliations of this sort.
Yet when, on the day of fasting, the invitation to sing came, hepermitted Barbara to accept it, because it was the Emperor who summonedher. He had called for her again, and on the way home learned thatneither his Majesty nor the regent had been among the listeners, and hehad gone to rest like a knight who has been hurled upon the sand.
The next morning, after mass, Barbara went to the rehearsal, andreturned in a very joyous mood with the tidings that the Emperor wishedto hear her about noon. But this time her father wanted to forbid hertaking part in the performance, and Wolf had not found it easy to makehim understand that this would insult and offend his Majesty.
The dispute was by no means ended when the little Maltese summoned herto the New Scales. Wolf accompanied her only to the Haidplatz, forhe had been called to the Town Hall on business connected with hisinheritance; but Barbara learned in the room assigned to the musiciansthat the noon performance had just been countermanded, and no specialreason had been given for the change.
The leader of the orchestra had been accustomed to submit to thesovereign's arrangements as unresistingly as to the will of higherpowers, and Barbara also restrained herself.
True, wrath boiled and seethed in her breast, but before retiringshe only said briefly, with a seriousness which revealed the contemptconcealed beneath:
"You were quite right, Maestro Appenzelder. The Emperor considered myvoice nothing unusual, and nothing else is fit for the august ears ofhis Majesty. Now I will go to the green woods."
The leader of the boy choir again did his best to detain her, for whatthe noon denied the evening would bring, and Gombert aided him withcourteous flatteries; but Barbara listened only a short time, then,interrupting both with the exclamation, "I force myself upon no one, noteven the highest!" she left the room, holding her head haughtily erect.
Appenzelder fixed his eyes helplessly upon the ground.
"I'd rather put a hoarse sailor or a croaking owl into my choirhenceforward than such a trilling fair one, who has more whims in herhead than hairs on it."
Then he went out to look for Wolf, for he, as well as Gombert, hadnoticed that he possessed a certain degree of influence over Barbara.What should he say to their Majesties if they ordered the choir for thelate meal and missed the voice about which the Queen had said so manycomplimentary things in the Emperor's name?
Wolf had told him that he was summoned to the Town Hall. The maestrofollowed him, and when he learned there that he had gone to the syndic,Dr. Hiltner, he inquired the way to this gentleman's house.
But the knight was no longer to be found there. For the third timethe busy magistrate was not at home, but he had been informed that thesyndic expected him that afternoon, as he wished to discuss a matter ofimportance. Dr. Hiltner's wife knew what it was, but silence had beenenjoined upon her, and she was a woman who knew how to refrain fromspeech.
She and her daughter Martina--who during Wolf's absence had grown tomaidenhood--were sincerely glad to see him; he had been the favouriteschoolmate of her adopted son, Erasmus Eckhart, and a frequent guestin her household. Yet she only confirmed to the modest young man, whoshrank from asking her more minute questions, that the matter concernedan offer whose acceptance promised to make him a prosperous man. Shewas expecting her Erasmus home from Wittenberg that evening or earlythe next morning, and to find Wolf here again would be a welcome boon tohim.
What had the syndic in view? Evidently something good. Old Ursel shouldhelp counsel him. The doctor liked her, and, in spite of the severeillness, she had kept her clever brain.
He would take Barbara into his confidence, too, for what concerned himconcerned her also.
But when he turned from the Haidplatz into Red Cock Street he saw threefine horses in front of the cantor house. A groom held their bridles.The large chestnut belonged to the servant. The other two-a big-bonedbay and an unusually wellformed Andalusian gray, with a small head andlong sweeping tail--had ladies' saddles.
The sister of rich old Peter Schlumperger, who was paying court toBarbara, had dismounted from the former. She wanted to persuade theyoung girl, in her brother's name, to join the party to the woodadjoining Prfifening Abbey.
At first she had opposed the marriage between the man of fifty andBarbara; but when she saw that her brother's affection had lasted twoyears, nay, had increased more and more, and afforded new joy to thechildless widower, she had made herself his ally.
She, too, was widowed and had a large fortune of her own. Her husband, amember of the Kastenmayr family, had made her his heiress. Blithe youngBarbara, whose voice and beauty she knew how to value, could bring newlife and brightness into the great, far too silent house. The girl'spoverty was no disadvantage; she and her brother had long found itdifficult to know what to do with the vast wealth which, even in thesehard times, was constantly increasing, and the Blomberg family was asaristocratic as their own.
The widow's effort to persuade the girl to ride had not been in vain,for Wolf met Frau Kastenmayr on the stairs, and Barbara followed in aplain dark riding habit, which had been her mother's.
So, in spite of Maestro Appenzelder, Miss Self-Will had reallydetermined to leave the city.
Her hasty information that the Emperor did not wish to hear the choirat noon somewhat relieved his mind; but when, in answer to his no lesshasty question about the singing at the late meal, the answer came,"What is that to me?" he perceived that the sensitiveness whichyesterday had almost led her to a similar step had now urged her toan act that might cause Appenzelder great embarrassment, and rob herforever of the honour of singing before their Majesties.
While the very portly Frau Kastenmayr went panting down the narrowstairs, Wolf again stopped Barbara with the question why she socarelessly trifled with what might be the best piece of good fortune inher life, and shook his head doubtfully as, tossing hers higher, withself-important pride she answered low enough not to be heard by thewidow, "Because a ride through the green woods in the month of May ispleasanter than to sing into vacancy at midnight unheeded."
Here the high, somewhat shrill voice of Frau Kastenmayr, who feltjealous in her brother's behalf at hearing Barbara whispering with theyoung knight, interrupted them.
Her warning, "Where are you, my darling?" made the girl, with the skirtof her riding habit thrown over her arm, follow her swiftly.
Wolf, offended and anxious, would have liked to make her feel hisdispleasure, but could not bring himself to let her go unattended,and, with some difficulty, first helped Frau Kastenmayr upon her strongsteed, then, with very mingled feelings, aided Barbara to mount thenoble Andalusian. While she placed her little foot in his hand to springthence with graceful agility into the saddle, the widow, with forcedcourtesy, invited the young gentleman to accompany her and her brotherto Prufening. There would be a merry meal, which she herself hadprovided, in the farmhouse on the abbey lands.
Without giving a positive answer, Wolf bowed, and his heart quivered asBarbara, from her beautiful gray horse, waved her riding whip to him asa queen might salute a vassal.
How erect she sat in her saddle! how slender and yet how
well roundedher figure was! What rapture it would be to possess her charms!
That she would accept the elderly Schlumperger for the sake of his moneywas surely impossible. And yet! How could she, with laughing lips, castto the wind the rare favour of fortune which permitted her to displayher art to the Emperor, and so carelessly leave him, Wolf, who had builtthe bridge to their Majesties, in the lurch, unless she had some specialpurpose in view; and what could that be except the resolution to becomethe mistress of one of the richest houses in Ratisbon? The words "Mydarling," which Frau Kastenmayr had called to Barbara, again rang in hisears, and when the two ladies and the groom had vanished, he returned ina very thoughtful mood to the faithful old maid-servant.
Every one else who was in the street or at the window looked afterBarbara, and pointed out to others the beautiful Jungfrau Blomberg andthe proud security with which she governed the spirited gray. She hadbecome a good rider, first upon her father's horses, and then at theWollers in the country, and took risks which many a bold young noblewould not have imitated.
Her aged suitor's gray Andalusian was dearer than the man himself, whomshe regarded merely as a sheet-anchor which could be used if everythingelse failed.
The thought of what might happen when, after these days of working forher bread ended, still more terrible ones followed, had troubled heragain and again the day before. Now she no longer recollected thesemiserable things. What a proud feeling it was to ride on horsebackthrough the sweet May air, in the green woods, as her own mistress, andbid defiance to the ungrateful sovereign in the Golden Cross!
The frustration of the hope that her singing would make the Emperordesire to hear her again and again had wounded her to the depths of hersoul and spoiled her night's rest. The annoyance of having vainly putforth her best efforts to please him had become unendurable after thefresh refusal which, as it were, set the seal upon her fears, and inthe defiant flight to the forest she seemed to have found the rightantidote. As she approached the monarch's residence, she felt glad andproud that he, who could force half the world to obey him, could notrule her.
To attract his notice by another performance would have been the mostnatural course, but Barbara had placed herself in a singular relationtoward the Emperor Charles. To her he was the man, not the Emperor, andthat he did not express a desire to hear her again seemed like an insultwhich the man offered to the woman, the artist, who was ready to obeyhis sign.
Her perverse spirit had rebelled against such lack of appreciation ofher most precious gifts, and filled her with rankling hatred againstthe first person who had closed his heart to the victorious magic of hervoice.
When she refused Appenzelder her aid in case the Emperor Charlesdesired to hear the choir that evening, and promised Frau Kastenmayr toaccompany her to Prufening, she had been like a rebellious child filledwith the desire to show the man who cared nothing for her that, againsther will, he could not hear even a single note from her lips.
They were to meet the other members of the party at St. Oswald's Churchon the Danube, so they were obliged to pass the Golden Cross.
This suited Barbara and, with triumphant selfconfidence, in whichmingled a slight shade of defiance, she looked up to the Emperor'swindows. She did not see him, it is true, but she made him a mute speechwhich ran: "When, foolish sovereign, who did not even think it worthwhile to grant me a single look, you hear the singing again to-night,and miss the voice which, I know full well, penetrated your heart, youwill learn its value, and long for it as ardently as I desired yoursummons."
Here her cheeks glowed so hotly that Frau Kastenmayr noticed it, andwith maternal solicitude asked, from her heavy, steady bay horse:
"Is the gray too gay for you, my darling?"