by Mark Twain
A MEDIEVAL ROMANCE [written about 1868]
CHAPTER I
THE SECRET REVEALED.
It was night. Stillness reigned in the grand old feudal castle ofKlugenstein. The year 1222 was drawing to a close. Far away up in thetallest of the castle's towers a single light glimmered. A secretcouncil was being held there. The stern old lord of Klugenstein sat ina chair of state meditating. Presently he said, with a tenderaccent:
"My daughter!"
A young man of noble presence, clad from head to heel in knightly mail,answered:
"Speak, father!"
"My daughter, the time is come for the revealing of the mystery that hathpuzzled all your young life. Know, then, that it had its birth in thematters which I shall now unfold. My brother Ulrich is the great Duke ofBrandenburgh. Our father, on his deathbed, decreed that if no son wereborn to Ulrich, the succession should pass to my house, provided a sonwere born to me. And further, in case no son were born to either, butonly daughters, then the succession should pass to Ulrich's daughter,if she proved stainless; if she did not, my daughter should succeed,if she retained a blameless name. And so I and my old wife here prayedfervently for the good boon of a son, but the prayer was vain. You wereborn to us. I was in despair. I saw the mighty prize slipping from mygrasp---the splendid dream vanishing away! And I had been so hopeful!Five years had Ulrich lived in wedlock, and yet his wife had borne noheir of either sex.
"'But hold,' I said, 'all is not lost.' A saving scheme had shot athwartmy brain. You were born at midnight. Only the leech, the nurse, and sixwaiting-women knew your sex. I hanged them every one before an hoursped. Next morning all the barony went mad with rejoicing over theproclamation that a son was born to Klugenstein---an heir to mightyBrandenburgh! And well the secret has been kept. Your mother's ownsister nursed your infancy, and from that time forward we feared nothing.
"When you were ten years old, a daughter was born to Ulrich. We grieved,but hoped for good results from measles, or physicians, or other naturalenemies of infancy, but were always disappointed. She lived, she throve---Heaven's malison upon her! But it is nothing. We are safe. For,ha!ha! have we not a son? And is not our son the future duke? Ourwell-beloved Conrad, is it not so?---for, woman of eight-and-twenty yearsas you are, my child, none other name than that hath ever fallen to you!
"Now it hath come to pass that age hath laid its hand upon my brother,and he waxes feeble. The cares of state do tax him sore, therefore hewills that you shall come to him and be already duke in act, though notyet in name. Your servitors are ready--you journey forth to-night.
"Now listen well. Remember every word I say. There is a law as old asGermany, that if any woman sit for a single instant in the great ducalchair before she hath been absolutely crowned in presence of the people,SHE SHALL DIE! So heed my words. Pretend humility. Pronounce yourjudgments from the Premier's chair, which stands at the foot of thethrone. Do this until you are crowned and safe. It is not likely thatyour sex will ever be discovered, but still it is the part of wisdom tomake all things as safe as may be in this treacherous earthly life."
"Oh, my father, is it for this my life hath been a lie? Was it that Imight cheat my unoffending cousin of her rights? Spare me, father,spare your child!"
"What, hussy! Is this my reward for the august fortune my brain haswrought for thee? By the bones of my father, this puling sentiment ofthine but ill accords with my humor.
"Betake thee to the duke, instantly, and beware how thou meddlest with mypurpose!"
Let this suffice, of the conversation. It is enough for us to know thatthe prayers, the entreaties and the tears of the gentle-natured girlavailed nothing. Neither they nor anything could move the stout old lord ofKlugenstein. And so, at last, with a heavy heart, the daughter saw thecastle gates close behind her, and found herself riding away in thedarkness surrounded by a knightly array of armed vassals and a bravefollowing of servants.
The old baron sat silent for many minutes after his daughter's departure,and then he turned to his sad wife and said:
"Dame, our matters seem speeding fairly. It is full three months since Isent the shrewd and handsome Count Detzin on his devilish mission to mybrother's daughter Constance. If he fail, we are not wholly safe, but ifhe do succeed, no power can bar our girl from being Duchess e'en thoughill-fortune should decree she never should be Duke!"
"My heart is full of bodings, yet all may still be well."
"Tush, woman! Leave the owls to croak. To bed with ye, and dream ofBrandenburgh and grandeur!"