'Here is a heretic conspiracy,' cried the captain, 'planned for my destruction. This woman is secretly a Lutheran, together with her daughter. Already have I twice watched their stolen attendance upon the preacher of Eckensdorf. For that reason they have called the Mannsfelder here, that he may take them to heretical Schweidnitz, where they can practise their idolatry undisturbedly; and because, out of zeal for the true faith, I wished to prevent their heathenish abominations, I am calumniated by the apostate women and their accomplice.'

'Heap not new insults upon us,' cried Dorn, forgetting in whose presence he stood. 'You know that you yet owe me satisfaction for those of last evening. You promised indeed to meet me this morning; but you preferred to rob me of my liberty and the ability to punish you for the outrage you committed, by false charges.'

'Mannsfelder! Mannsfelder!' exclaimed the duke, secretly delighted with the boldness of the warrior; 'We also are yet here!' and turning to the captain, he asked; 'What have you to say to this accusation?'

'Challenged and not appear!' cried he, as the captain stood mute, with frightfully flashing eyes. 'A Friedlandish captain! Announce yourself to the officer of the day as under arrest, and immediately afterwards seek for your discharge. You can no longer serve under Wallenstein!'

'Yet the captain's information with regard to the secret church-going of these women may well deserve some consideration,' remarked the Jesuit, rising.

'A soldier should be no priestly spy,' angrily answered the duke. 'I am the emperor's generalissimo; but not his inquisitor. What care I about the catechisms of his subjects. They may believe what they like, provided they but give what they should. I adhere to my decision.'

With a devout sigh the Jesuit again seated himself; and, in despair at the rebound of his last arrow, the captain left the hall.

With a kindness which strangely suited his stony face, the duke now stepped directly to Dorn and slapped him upon the shoulder. 'You are laconic and resolute,' said he, 'I like that; and moreover I must have seen this face somewhere.'

'Perhaps on the Elbe near Dessau,' answered Dorn.

'Right!' cried the duke. 'You are the officer who held the last entrenchment with such obstinacy. I liked you, even then. Will you become a major in my regiment of life-guards? I shall conclude a peace with Denmark at the earliest opportunity, and so your Danish commission need be no hindrance.'

'To the true hero the truth may be fearlessly spoken,' said Dorn. 'I cannot fight against my conscience.'

'I regret that any obstacle deprives me of your services,' said the duke. 'I would very willingly do something to oblige you. Ask some favor of me!'

'I have only to ask you,' said Dorn, 'to permit me to depart immediately for Schweidnitz with these ladies, and also your permission to take back with me the poor boy whom I tore from his friends in obedience to your commands.'

'Well, take the whole baggage, comrade,' said the duke beneficently: 'and a prosperous journey to you! I will cause the necessary papers to be given you.'

The duke kindly nodded permission to retire, and Dorn led the ladies from the hall.

'A happy escape from the lion's den!' sighed the matron with a lighter heart, as she turned her back upon the palace.

What may not one accomplish who is a man in the fullest sense of the word!' cried the enthusiastic Faith, pressing Dorn's hand to her heart.

'I know not,' said Dorn pensively, 'whether I shall have especial reason to rejoice at the turn the affair has taken or not. It just now occurs to me that the dismission of your persecutor from his quarters in your house, removes the evil which impelled you to leave Sagan, and that you may not now wish to accompany me to Schweidnitz.'

'O! we have on many accounts long desired to visit our Katharine,' said Faith with great earnestness. 'Our house can never remain long free from this detestable quartering, and who knows how the next may conduct himself! Besides, I fear the captain now as much as I did before. He has lost the power of tormenting us, and his bread into the bargain. He will soon be released from the guard-house, and a bad man, however insignificant may be his situation, has the power to injure with the will!'

'My daughter's zeal,' smilingly interposed the matron, 'saves me the trouble of explaining my reasons for wishing to go with you. Let it suffice, that we ride with you to Schweidnitz.'

CHAPTER IV.

At Schweidnitz, on new year's eve, the Fessel family were gathered around the well lighted and richly covered table; but no one had an inclination to eat; for Dorn, the idol of the house, was still absent, and anxiety for her beloved relatives saddened the countenance of the affectionate Katharine.

'I thought master Dorn would have kept his word better,' cried the impatient Martin, striking the empty seat which had been placed near him for the expected traveler. 'The supper will soon be over and still he is not here.'

'He will yet be sure to come,' said the confiding Ulrich. 'G.o.d grant it,' sighed Katharine. 'A carriage! a carriage!' cried the listening daughters, running to the window. 'It is father's horses!' they shouted. Out ran the two boys, overthrowing their seats with a tremendous racket; and, as if there had been a wager among the four children, which should first break their necks, they all rushed out of the door and down the steep stairs.

'Welcome to Schweidnitz, my dear mother!' joyfully cried the master of the house from the window, to which he also had hastened.

'Has my sister come with you?' asked the anxious Katharine, running to the door. The children had already let down the steps of the carriage, and madam Rosen with her daughter hastened to meet their expectant friends. The cloaks and wrappers soon fell off, and mother and daughters were clasped in a mutual embrace.

'Happily redeemed from the prison of the hateful Holofernes?' asked Fessel, affectionately greeting his mother-in-law.

'After great trouble and anxiety,' answered the widow, drawing a long breath, whilst the attentive Katharine was busily relieving her of her superfluous traveling garments.

'Had you not sent us so bold a knight,' said Faith playfully; 'to rescue us from the terrible giant, we should have been at this moment sitting in Sagan, listening to the insupportable boastings of the monster.'

'Where is the valiant knight, that I may thank him for his good service?' asked Katharine.

At that moment Dorn entered the room, leading the young Engelmann by the hand, and surrounded by the four children of the house.

'How! Do you bring the boy, also?' asked the astonished master, warmly embracing his book-keeper.

'He has permission to remain and pursue his studies here,' answered Dorn. 'Here is the Duke's consent in his own hand-writing.'

'You must understand the black art,' cried the overjoyed Fessel. 'I should sooner have expected to remove the everlasting hills from their foundations than to move the Friedlander from his purpose.'

'I could not, however, save your property,' said Dorn. 'The houses already lay in ruins, and all applications for indemnification are rejected by the ducal court.'

'I am sorry to lose the capital,' said Fessel; for I had already built a fine speculation upon it; but you have saved my dear friends, and so in G.o.d's name let the guilders go. Now seat yourselves and relate to me circ.u.mstantially how this eighth wonder of the world has been accomplished.'

They placed themselves at table. Dorn obtained a seat near the charming Faith; and, as among a swarm of bees, narrations and corrections, questions and answers, praise and astonishment, fear, anger and laughter, so buzzed about the table that the business of eating was scarcely thought of.

'Thank G.o.d we are finally here!' remarked madam Rosen, reaching her goblet of Hungary wine to the book-keeper, for the purpose of touching his gla.s.s. 'My best thanks,' said she with emotion, and at the same time gave an intimation to Faith to follow her example.

'Thank me not so much, dear madam,' said the youth with a pensive air, while touching gla.s.ses with the blushing maiden; 'else I shall have my whole reward in thanks.'

'And in consequence lose the courage to ask for a dearer one,' jested Katharine, who had noticed the glance he gave her sister.

'We are so merry to-night!' cried Fessel's youngest daughter, the little Hedwig, 'cannot you let us have the play of the light boats now, dear mother? You promised it to us on Christmas eve; which, by the by, was pa.s.sed sadly enough.'

'Yes, yes, the light boats!' shouted the other children, clapping their hands.

'Well, bring the large soup-dish,' said the mother, who could refuse nothing to her youngest daughter; 'but be careful not to spill the water.'

'Glorious, excellent!' cried the children in chorus. Hedwig flew out of the room; the other children produced wax candles of various colors, and began cutting them into innumerable small pieces; while Faith, Dorn, and young Engelmann, were instructed to divide the walnuts, of which the table famished an abundant supply, in halves, and neatly to extricate the kernels without injuring the sh.e.l.ls.

'I know not if you are acquainted with this play of the Silesian children,' said Fessel, laughing, to Dorn. 'It was omitted by us last year, in consequence of my wife's illness. It is a solemn oracle upon matters of love, marriage, and death. The children, however, do not trouble themselves about the serious signification; but only take pleasure in the movements of the boats and in splashing the water.'

The door now opened, and little Hedwig stepped into the room, with the large dish full of water in her hands, with a solemn and consequential air, and deposited her burden upon the centre of the table.

'Now put the lights in the boats,' commanded Martin; 'we have prepared enough of them.' A small wax taper was placed in each sh.e.l.l, projecting like the mast of a boat.

'Who shall swim first?' asked Elizabeth, lighting the tapers in two of the boats.