Erica pulled away the jewel with a jerk, so that it rebounded on her bosom with a metallic ring, and softly hummed some Hunnic melody. Then there entered one of the Hunnic sentinels, accompanied by Hadumoth and Snewelin of Ellw.a.n.gen as interpreter. The child had entered the camp, bravely pa.s.sing the posts and not heeding their calls, until they stopped her. Snewelin then explained Hadumoth's wish, with regard to the prisoner boy. He was in as soft and compa.s.sionate a mood, as if he were still in his home, and about to celebrate Ash-Wednesday, for he had summed up on that very day, all the misdeeds which he had committed in the course of his Hunnic life; and the pillaged convents began to weigh heavily on his conscience.

"Tell them also, that I can pay them a ransom," said Hadumoth, undoing the seam of her bodice to get at the gold piece. She handed it to the chieftain, who laughed immoderately, joined by Erica.

"What a crazy land!" exclaimed Hornebog, when his laughter had subsided. "The men cut off their hair, and the children do, what would honour a warrior. If instead of this little maiden, the armed men from the lake had followed us, it would have put us into an awkward position."

A sudden suspicion now crossing his mind, he cast a searching look at the child. "If she were a spy!" ... exclaimed he. But Erica now rose, and patted Hadumoth's head. "Thou shalt stay with me," said she, "for I want something to play with, since my black horse is dead, and my Ellak is dead." ...

"Take the brat away!" Hornebog now called out angrily. "Have we come here, to play with children?" Then Erica saw that a storm was brewing in the chieftain's bosom, and taking the little maiden by the hand, led her out.

There, where the camp receded towards the mountain, between some sheltering pieces of rock, a temporary cooking-place had been erected, which was the undisputed realm of the woman of the wood. Audifax was kneeling before the biggest of the kettles, blowing into the fire, in which the soup, that was destined for the evening meal, was boiling.

But now he jumped up and gave a loud shriek, for he had beheld his little friend. Instantly the old hag stretched out her head, from behind the other kettle, and this was more than a warning. Without moving, he stirred the soup with a peeled branch, as was his prescribed task. Thus he stood, the image of dumb grief. He had become pale and haggard; and his eyes dimmed by the tears, which had touched n.o.body.

"Mind, that thou dost not hurt the children, old baboon!" cried Erica.

Then Hadumoth went over to where the boy was, who now dropped his primitive spoon, and silently held out his hand to her; but out of his dark blue eyes there came a look, which told its own story of woe and suffering, and the longing wish, to regain his liberty. Hadumoth likewise, stood quietly before him. She had often imagined a joyous and touching meeting, but all these pictures had faded away now. The greatest joy sends its grat.i.tude up to heaven, in a voiceless prayer.

"Give me a dish of soup Audifax," said she, "I am very hungry."

The woman of the wood suffered him to pour out some soup for her, into a wooden plate, which the hungry child eagerly took. When she had stilled the craving for food, her spirits rose again, and she fearlessly gazed on the wild faces of the Hunnic riders, who came to fetch their soup. Afterwards she sat down close beside Audifax. He was still silent and reserved, and only when it became dark and his tyrant went away, his tongue got loosened. "Oh, I have so much to tell thee Hadumoth!" whispered he. "I know where the treasure of the Huns is! The woman of the wood has got it in her keeping. Two big boxes stand under her couch, in yonder hut. I have looked into them myself, and they were quite full of jewels and diadems and golden trinkets. A silver hen, with a brood of chickens, and eggs is also amongst them, which they stole in Lombardy,--and many more beautiful things. I have paid dearly for seeing them though ..."

He lifted up his leathern hat. One half of his right ear had been cut off.

"... The woman of the wood, came home before I could close the lid again. 'Take that, for thy reward,' said she, lifting her scissors up to my ear. It has hurt me a good deal Hadumoth, but I shall pay her back some day!"

"I will help thee," said his companion.

For a long time, the two whispered on together; for no sleep came to the eyes of the happy ones. The noise in the camp was hushed now, and the shadows of night brooded over the valley. Then Hadumoth said: "I must ever and again, think of that night when the stars fell down."

Audifax, heaving a sigh, murmured: "Ah, I shall still get my treasure.

I know I shall." And again they sat quietly together for a while; until Audifax gave a violent start. Hadumoth could feel the trembling of his hand. On the other side of the Rhine, on the summit of the black looking mountains, a sudden light shone out. It was like a torch swung around, and then thrown away.

"There, it's gone again!" Audifax said softly.

"Ah, but look there!" affrightedly exclaimed Hadumoth, pointing behind her.

From the height of the Botzberg, another flame darted up; likewise describing a fiery circuit in the air. It was the same signal. And yonder, over in the Blackforest, on the same place where the burning torch had first been visible, there now arose a mighty flame, lighting up the dark, starless night. The guard in the valley, uttered a piercing whistle, and the inhabitants of the camp began to stir everywhere. The woman of the wood came back also, and threateningly called out; "what art thou dreaming about boy? Quick, put the nags to the cart, and saddle my sumpter-horse!"

Audifax silently obeyed her orders.

The cart stood ready, and the sumpter-horse was tied to a stake.

Carefully, the old woman approached it with two panniers, which she hung over its back, and then taking out the two boxes, from her hut, she put one in each, covering them up afterwards, with some hay. When she had done this, she peered out anxiously into the darkness.

Everything was quiet again. The wine of the Frick-valley had ensured a sound sleep to the Hunnic warriors.

"'Tis nothing," muttered the woman of the wood, "we can take the horses back again;" but the next moment she started up, almost blinded. The mountains rising behind the camp, had suddenly become alive with hundreds of torches and fire-brands; and from all sides there resounded the loud and terrific cry of battle. From the Rhine, dark ma.s.ses of armed men, were swiftly approaching;--on all the mountain summits, tremendous bonfires were burning.--Up now, ye sleepers!... it was too late, for already the fire-brands came flying into the Hunnic camp.

Pitifully sounded the frightened neighing of the horses, whose large shed was already burning. Dark figures stormed the camp on all sides.

This time, King Death was coming with blazing torchlight, and he who brought him, was the old Knight Irminger, the owner of the Frickgau.

He, the strong father of six strong sons; who like Mattathias with his Maccabeans, could no longer bear to behold the misery of his people.

And with them there came the men of Hornussen and Herznach; those from the Aarthal and Brugg, as well as from Baden's hot wells; and far away from the Gieselafluth. Safely hidden in the dark pine-wood, they had waited until the torch was lifted up on the Eggberg, a.s.suring them of the neighbourly help of the people in the Black-Forest; and then they rushed to the attack. With bleeding head, Snewelin galloped past. A well-aimed fire-brand, had stuck to his garments, setting them all ablaze, so that he looked like a fiery phantom. "The world is coming to an end," cried he. "The millenium is at hand! May G.o.d have mercy on my poor soul!"

"Lost, everything lost," muttered the woman of the wood, lifting her hand up to her forehead. Then she untied the sumpter-horse, to harness it likewise before her cart. Meanwhile Audifax was standing in the dark, biting his lips that he might not scream out with delight, at this unexpected turn of affairs. A trembling reflection of the flames, played on his excited countenance. Everything was boiling within him.

For some time he stood there, gazing fixedly at the tumult, and the fighting of the dark figures before him. "Now I know, what I must do,"

whispered he into Hadumoth's ear. He had taken up a big stone, and springing up at the woman of the wood with the agility of a wild cat, he struck her down. After this he quickly pulled away the sumpter-horse, upon the saddle of which he placed the trembling Hadumoth with the sudden strength of a man. "Take hold of the pommel!"

cried he. Then jumping up himself, he seized the reins, and the horse no sooner felt the unwont burden, than it galloped off into the night, frightened by the glare and noise around. Audifax never staggered, though his heart was beating wildly. The blinding smoke made him shut his eyes, and thus they sped onwards; over the corpses of the dead, and through the crowds of fighting men. After a while the noise became fainter in the distance, and the horse began to slacken its pace. It was taking the children towards the Rhine,--they were saved!

Thus they rode on through the long, dark night, scarcely once daring to look about them. Audifax silently held the reins, feeling as if he were in a dream. First he put his hand on Hadumoth's head, and then struck against one of the boxes, which, emitting a metallic ring, convinced him that he was not dreaming, after all. The horse was good-tempered, and carried its burden willingly enough, across fields, over heaths and through dark woods, always in the direction of the Rhine. When they had thus ridden on for a considerable time, a cool breeze, the messenger of the coming dawn, made them shiver. Hadumoth opened her eyes, "Where are we?" asked she.

"I don't know," replied Audifax. And now a roaring and rushing, like distant thunder, struck their ear; but it could not be from a coming storm, as the sky brightened, whilst the little stars waxed dimmer and slowly vanished. The noise became louder and nearer. They pa.s.sed a stately castle, looking down proudly into the waters below. Then their path took them round a little hill, and then they suddenly beheld the broad flood of the Rhine; dashing along with a thundering noise, over dark, weatherbeaten rocks. Clouds of pearly white spray, glistened in the air, whilst soft mists hung around everywhere. The horse stopped, as if it wanted to take in the grand spectacle at its leisure. Then Audifax jumped to the ground, and taking down the tired, little Hadumoth, as well as the two baskets, he allowed the brave animal to graze.

So the two children stood before the falls of the Rhine; Hadumoth tightly grasping her companion's right hand with her left; gazing long and silently at the spectacle before them. Presently, the sun cast his first rays on the dashing waters, which caught them and built them up into a glittering, many-coloured rainbow.

Then Audifax went up to the baskets, to take out one of the boxes; which on being opened, disclosed its glistening contents of pure gold and silver. The long coveted treasure, was found at last; had become his own; not by spells and nightly conjurations, but by the use of his hands and by seizing the favourable opportunity. Thus he gazed on the shining baubles without any surprise, for had he not known it for many months, that such a treasure was destined for him?...

Of every kind of article it contained, he picked out one; a casket, a ring, a coin and a bracelet, and with them approached the brink of the waters.

"Hadumoth," said he, "here I think that G.o.d must be; for His rainbow is hovering over the waters. I will make Him a thank-offering."

Stepping on a projecting rock, he flung in with a strong hand, first the casket, then the ring, coin and bracelet,--and then kneeling down, Hadumoth kneeling by his side, they prayed for a long time, and thanked G.o.d....

CHAPTER XVI.

Cappan gets married.

When a thunder-storm has blown over, the water-brooks are still turbid and muddy; and so, a great stirring event, is generally followed by a time of small and annoying work, until everything has returned to its old routine.

This experience, Dame Hadwig was forced to make also. There was a great deal to arrange and put in order, after the driving away of the Huns; but this she did willingly enough, as her lively spirit and the pleasure she took in active interference, quite made up to her, for the trouble this gave her.

The widows and orphans of the slain arrier-ban-men, as well as all those whose houses had been burnt, and whose harvests had been destroyed, came to sue for a.s.sistance. Help was given to every one, as far as this was possible. Messengers were sent off to the Emperor, to report that which had happened, as well as to make proposals, for taking the necessary precautions against any possible future invasion.

Wherever the fortress was found deficient, improvements were made; the booty was distributed, and finally the erection of a chapel on the grave of the christian warriors, was decided upon. With Reichenau and St. Gall, there was also a good deal of business to transact, for ecclesiastics seldom forget to present their bills, for any services that they have rendered. They well knew how to bemoan and bewail the damages done to their monasteries, as well as the great loss of goods and chattels, which they had experienced; and every day some delicate hint was dropped to the d.u.c.h.ess, that a donation of land, would be most desirable for the afflicted servants of G.o.d. Far away in the Rhine-valley, where the Breisach-mountain with its dark, scorched rocks, narrows the bed of the river, the d.u.c.h.ess owned some property, called Sas.p.a.ch. On a vulcanic soil the vine thrives particularly well,--so this would have suited the pious brothers of the Reichenau admirably; if it were only to find out the difference, between the Rhine-wines and those that grew near the lake; besides its being some slight compensation for their military services, and for the reciting of the necessary ma.s.ses for the souls of the dead.

One day, on which Dame Hadwig had not appeared quite disinclined to make the donation, was followed by the arrival of the subprior in the early morning, bringing a parchment with him, on which, the whole formula of the donation was written down. It sounded really very well when read aloud, how everything was to be given to St. Pirminius; house and yard, with all that was in it; cultivated and uncultivated land; woods and vineyards; meadows and brooks, with the right of building mills and of fishing; as well as the va.s.sals, both male and female, who were living there ... even the customary curse was not wanting, and ran as follows: "If anyone should dare to doubt the donation, or, worse still, to try and rob the monastery of it, the _Anathema Marantha_, shall be p.r.o.nounced on him. The anger of G.o.d Almighty, and all the holy angels shall fall on him. May he be stricken with leprosy, like Naaman the Syrian, and with sudden death like Ananias and Sapphira, besides paying a fine of a pound of gold to the exchequer in expiation of his crime."

"The Lord Abbot, wanted to save our gracious sovereign the trouble of writing the donation herself," said the Subprior. "There has been left an empty s.p.a.ce, for adding the name and boundaries of the property; as well as for the signatures of both parties, and the necessary witnesses."

"Have you learned to be so quick in all your doings?" replied Dame Hadwig. "I will look at that parchment of yours, some day or other."

"But it would be a very dear and desirable thing for the Abbot, if I could bring him back the deed, signed and sealed by your Highness, to-day. It is only on account of the order and precision in the monastery's archives, the Abbot said."

Dame Hadwig, casting a haughty look at the man, then said: "Tell your Abbot, that I am just now summing up the account, of how much the quartering of the brothers on the Hohentwiel, has cost me in kitchen and cellar. Tell him likewise that we have our own scriveners, if we should feel so inclined, to give away landed property on the Rhine, and that" ... she wanted to add a few more bitter words, but the Subprior here fell in coaxingly, telling her a number of cases where Christian kings and princes had done the same. How the King of France for instance, had generously indemnified St. Martin of Tours, for the losses which he had suffered through the Norman invasion; and how beneficial the donation had been for the giver's soul; for as fire was extinguished by water, thus the soul was purified by alms-giving....

But the d.u.c.h.ess, turning her back on him, left him standing there in the hall, with his many yet untold examples, on the tip of his tongue.

"Too much zeal, is an evil thing," muttered the monk, "'the greater hurry, the less speed,' as the proverb has it." Dame Hadwig having reached the entrance, turned round once more, and with an indescribable movement of the hand, now said: "If you wish to go, you had better go at once!"

So he made his retreat.

To annoy the Abbot, the d.u.c.h.ess, on the very same day, sent a golden chain to the venerable Simon Bardo, in acknowledgement of his prosperous leadership.