"What the devil would she do in a convent?" exclaimed the old knight. "To infect the young maidens with her vices, or plague them with her pride? Now, there was nothing else for her but to be packed off to Zachow."

Now Clara looked up once again at her husband with her soft, tearful eyes, for he had said no word all this time, but remained quite mute; and he drew her to him, and said--

"I understand thy wish, dear Clara, but the old knight is right.

It is a dangerous business, dear Clara! Let Sidonia go."

At this Sidonia crawled forth like a serpent from her corner, and howled--

"Clara had pity on her, but he would turn her out to starve--he, who bore her own name, and was of her own blood."

Alas! the good knight was ashamed to refuse any longer, and finally promised the evil one that she should go with them to Saatzig. So her Grace at last consented, but old Ulrich shook his grey head ten times more.

"He had lived many years in the world, but never had it come to his knowledge that a G.o.dless man was tamed by love. Fear was the only teacher for them. All their love would be thrown away on this harlot; for even if the stout Marcus kept her tight with bit and rein, and tried to bring her back by fear, yet the moment his back was turned, Clara would spoil all again by love and kindness."

However, n.o.body minded the good knight, though it all came to pa.s.s just as he had prophesied.

CHAPTER XV.

_How Sidonia demeans herself at the castle of Saatzig, and how Clara forgets the injunctions of her beloved husband, when he leaves her to attend the Diet at Wollin, on the subject of the courts--Item, how the Serene Prince Duke Johann Frederick beheads his court fool with a sausage._

Summa.--Sidonia went to the castle of Saatzig, and her worthy cousin Marcus gave her a little chamber to herself, in the third story, close to the tower. It was the same room in which she afterwards sat as a witch, for some days ere she was taken to Oderburg. There was a right cheerful view from the windows down upon the lake, which was close to the castle, and over the little town of Jacobs.h.a.gen, as far even as the meadows beyond. Here, too, was left a Bible for her, and the _Opera Lutheri_ in addition, with plenty of materials for spinning and embroidery, for she had refused to weave. _Item_, a serving-wench was appointed to attend on her, and she had permission to walk where she pleased within the castle walls; but if ever seen beyond the domain, the keepers had orders to bring her back by force, if she would not return willingly.

In fine, the careful knight took every precaution possible to render her presence as little baneful as could be, for, truth to say, he had no faith whatever in her tears and seeming repentance.

First, he strictly forbade all his secretaries to interchange a word with her, or even look at her. They need not know his reason, but any one who transgressed his slightest command in this particular, should be chased away instantly from the castle.

Secondly, he prayed his dear wife to let Sidonia eat her meals alone, in her own little room, and never to see her but in the presence of a third person.

Also, never to accept the slightest gift from her hand--fruit, flower, or any kind of food whatsoever. These injunctions were the more necessary, as the young bride had already given hopes of an heir. Sidonia's rage and jealousy at this prospect of complete happiness for Clara may be divined from her words to her maid, Lene Penkun, a short time after she reached the castle--

"Ha! they are talking of the baptism already, forsooth; but it might have been otherwise if I had come across her a little sooner!"

This same maid also she sent to Daber for the spirit Chim, which had been left behind at the last resting-place of the robbers, never telling her it was a spirit, however, only a tame cat, that was a great pet of hers. "It must be half dead with hunger now, for it was four days since she had left it in the hollow of an old oak in the forest, the poor creature! So let the maid take a flask of sweet milk and a little saucer to feed it. She could not miss her way, for, when she stepped out of the high-road at Daber into the forest, there was a thorn-bush to her left hand, and just beyond it a large oak where the ravens had their nests; in a hollow of this oak, to the north side, lay her dear little cat.

But she must not tell any one about the matter, or they would laugh at her for sending her maid two miles and more to look for a cat. Men had no compa.s.sion or tenderheartedness nowadays to each other, much less to a poor dumb animal. No; just let her say that she went to fetch a robe which her mistress had left in the oak.

Here was an old gown; take this with her, and it would do to wrap up the poor little p.u.s.s.y in it after she had fed it and warmed it, so that no one might see it, for what a mock would all these pitiless men make of her, if they heard the object of her message; but she was not cruel like them."

Now, after some time, it happened that the states of the duchy a.s.sembled at Wollin, to come to some arrangement with his Highness respecting the opening of the courts of justice; and Marcus Bork, along with all the other n.o.bles, was summoned to attend the Diet.

So, with great grief, he had to leave his dear wife, but promised, if possible, to return before she was taken with her illness. Then he bid her be of good courage, and, above all things, to guard herself, against Sidonia, and mind strictly all his injunctions concerning her.

Alas! she too soon flung them all to the winds! For, behold, scarcely had the good knight arrived at Wollin, when Clara was delivered of a little son, at which great joy filled the whole castle. And one messenger was despatched to Marcus, and another to old Dewitz and his wife, with the tidings; but woe, alas! the good old mother was going to stand sponsor for a n.o.bleman's child in the neighbourhood, and could not hasten then to save her dear daughter from a terrible and cruel death. She cooked some broth, however, for the young mother, and pouring it into a silver flask, bid the messenger ride back with all speed to Saatzig, that it might not be too cold. She herself would be over in the morning early with her husband, and let her dear little daughter keep herself warm and quiet.

Meanwhile Sidonia had heard of the birth, and sent her maid to wish the young mother joy, and ask her permission just to give one little kiss to her new cousin, for they told her he was a beautiful infant.

Alas, alas! that Clara's joy should make her forget the judicious cautions of her husband! Permission was given to the murderess, and down she comes directly to offer her congratulations; even affecting to weep for joy as she kissed the infant, and praying to be allowed to act as nurse until her mother came from Daber.

"Why, she had no one about her but common serving-women! How could she leave her dearest friend to the care of these old hags, when she was in the castle, who owed everything to her dear Clara?"

And so she went on till poor Clara, even if she did not quite believe her, felt ashamed to doubt so much apparent affection and tenderness.

_Summa_.--She permitted her to remain, and we shall soon see what murderous deeds Sidonia was planning against the poor young mother. But first I must relate what happened at the Diet of Wollin, to which Marcus Bork had been summoned.

His Highness Duke Johann had become somewhat more gracious to the states since they had come to the Diet at their own cost, which was out of the usage; and further, because, as old Ulrich prophesied, he himself had felt the inconveniences resulting from the present lawless state of the country.

Still he was ill-tempered enough, particularly as he had a fever on him; and when the states promised at last that they would let him have the money, he said, "So far good; but, till he saw the gold, the courts should not be opened. Not that he mis...o...b..ed them, but then he knew that they were sometimes as tedious in handing out money as a peasant in paying his rent. The courts, therefore, should not be opened until he had the gold in his pot, so it would be to their own profit to use as much diligence as possible." At this same Diet his Grace related how he first met Clas, his fool, which story I shall set down here for the reader's pastime.

This same fool had been nothing but a poor goose-herd; and one day as he was on the road to Friedrichswald with his flock, my gracious lord rode up, and growing impatient at the geese running hither and thither in his path, bid the boy collect them together, or he would strike them all dead.

Upon which the knave took up goose after goose by the throat, and stuck them by their long necks into his girdle, till a circle of geese hung entirely round his body, all dangling by the head from his waist.

This merry device pleased my lord so much, that he made the lad court-jester from that day, and many a droll trick he had played from that to this, particularly when his Highness was gloomy, so as to make him laugh again. Once, for instance, when the Duke was sore pressed for money, by reason of the opposition of the states, he became very sad, and all the doctors were consulted, but could do nothing. For unless his Grace could be brought to laugh (they said to the Lady Erdmuth), it was all over with him. Then my gracious lady had the fool whipped for a stupid jester, who could not drive his trade; for if he did not make the Duke laugh, why should he stay at all in the castle?

What did my fool? He collected all the princely soldatesca, and got leave from their Graces to review them; and surely never were seen such strange evolutions as he put them through, for they must do everything he bid them. And when his Highness came forth to look, he laughed so loud as never had fool made him laugh before; and calling the d.u.c.h.ess, bid him repeat his _experimentum_ many times for her. In fine, the fool got the good town of b.u.t.terdorf for his fee, which changed its name in honour of him, and is called Hinzendorf to this day (for his name was Hinze).

But Clas Hinze had not been able to cure my Lord Duke of his fever, which attacked him at the Diet at Wollin, nor all the doctors from Stettin, nor even Doctor Pomius, who had been sent from Wolgast by the old d.u.c.h.ess, to attend her dear son; and as the doctor (as I have said) was a formal, priggish little man, he and the fool were always bickering and snarling.

Now, one day at Wollin, the weather being beautiful, his Grace, with several of the chief prelates, and many of the n.o.bility, went forth to walk by the river's side, and the fool ran along with them; _item_, Doctor Pomius, who, if he could not run, at least tried to walk majestically; and he munched a piece of sugar all the time, for he never could keep his mouth still a moment.

Seeing his Grace now about to cross the bridge, the doctor started forward with as much haste as was consistent with his dignity, and seizing his Highness by the tail of the coat, drew him back, declaring, "That he must not pa.s.s the water; all water would give strength to the fever-devil." But his Highness, who was talking Latin to the Deacon of Colberg, turned on the doctor with--"Apage te asine!" and strode forward, whilst one of the n.o.bles gave a free translation aloud for the benefit of the others, saying, "And that means: Begone, thou a.s.s!"

When the fool heard this, he clapped the little man on the back, shouting, "Well done, a.s.s! and there is thy fee for curing our gracious Prince of his fever."

This so nettled the doctor that he spat out the lump of sugar for rage, and tried to seize the fool; but the crowd laughed still louder when Clas jumped on the back of an old woman, giving her the spur with his yellow boots in the side, and shaking his head with the cap and bells at the little doctor in mockery, who could not get near him for the crowd. So the woman screamed and roared, and the people laughed, till at last the Duke stopped in the middle of the bridge to see what was the matter. When the fool observed this, he sprang off the old woman's back, and calling out to the doctor--"See how I cure our gracious lord's fever," ran upon the bridge like wind, and, seizing the Duke with all his force, jumped with him into the water.

Now the people screamed from horror, as much as before from mirth, and thirty or forty burghers, along with Marcus Bork, plunged in to rescue his Highness, whilst others tried to seize the fool, threatening to tear him in pieces. This was a joyful hearing to Doctor Pomius. He drew forth his knife--"Would they not finish the knave at once? Here was a knife just ready."

But the fool, who was strong and supple, swung himself up to the bridge, and crouched in between the arches, catching hold of the beams, so that no one dared to touch him there, and his Highness was soon carried to land. He was in a flaming rage as he shook off the water.

"Where is that accursed fool? He had only threatened to cut off his head at Daber, but now it should be done in earnest."

So the fool shouted from under the bridge--"Ho! ho! the courts are all closed! the courts are all closed!" At which the crowd laughed so heartily, that my Lord Duke grew still more angry, and commanded them to bring the fool to him dead or alive.

Hearing this, the fool crept forward of himself, and whimpered in his Low Dutch, "My good Lord Duke, praise be to G.o.d that we've made the doctor fly. I'll give him a little piece of drink-money for his journey, and then I'll be your doctor myself. For if the fright has not cured you, marry, let the deacon be your fool, and I will be your deacon as long as I live."

However, my gracious lord was in no humour for fun, but bid them carry off the fool to prison, and lock him up there; for though, indeed, the fever had really quite gone, as his Highness perceived to his joy, yet he was resolved to give the fool a right good fright in return.

Therefore, on the third day from that, he commanded him to be brought out and beheaded on the scaffold at Wollin. He wore a white shroud, bordered with black gauze, over his motley jacket, and a priest and melancholy music accompanied him all the way; but Master Hansen had directions that, when the fool was seated in the chair with his eyes bound, he should strike the said fool on the neck with a sausage in place of the sword.

However, no one suspected this, and a great crowd followed the poor fool up to the scaffold; even Doctor Pomius was there, and kept close up to the condemned. As the fool pa.s.sed the ducal house, there was my lord seated at a window looking out, and the fool looked up, saying, "My gracious master, is this a fool's jest you are playing me, or is it earnest?"

To which the Duke answered, "You see it is earnest."

Then answered the fool, "Well, if I must, I must; yet I crave one boon!"

When the promise was granted, the knave, who could not give up his jesting even on the death-road, said, "Then make Doctor Pomius herewith to be fool in my place, for look how he is learning all my tricks from me--sticking himself close up to my side."