"That coin, we do not understand!"

"What ransom then do you exact?" asked the d.u.c.h.ess who was fast getting impatient.

"The bishop of Constance was also our prisoner," replied the pupil, "and he obtained for us three extra holidays in the year, as well as a feast of bread and meat, and has further secured this to us with his name and seal."

"Oh gluttonous youth!" said Dame Hadwig. "Then I must at least do as much for you as the bishop. Have you ever tasted the _Felchen_[6] from the Bodensee?"

"No!" cried the boys.

"Then you shall receive six fish as an annual present. This fish is good for young beaks."

"Do you secure this to us with your name and seal?"

"If it must be so, yes."

"Long life to the d.u.c.h.ess of Suabia! All hail!" was now shouted on all sides. "Hail! she is free." The school-benches were quickly removed, the pa.s.sage cleared, and jumping and shouting triumphantly they led back their prisoner.

In the background the parchment leaves of Aristotle flew up into the air, as outward signs of joy. Even the corners of Notker Labeo's mouth turned down into a broad grin, and Dame Hadwig said: "The young gentlemen were very gracious. Please to put back the rod into the cupboard, honoured professor."

A continuation of the translation of Aristotle, was not to be thought of. Who can tell, whether the uproarious outbreak of the pupils, was not in close connexion with their study of logic? Seriousness is often a very dry and leafless trunk; else folly would scarcely find room, to wind her wanton green-leaved tendrils around it ...

When the d.u.c.h.ess accompanied by the Abbot had left the school-room, the latter said: "There is nothing now left to show you but the library of the monastery, the well for thirsty souls, the armory with its weapons of science." But Dame Hadwig was tired and so declined his offer.

"I must keep my word," said she, "and make the donation to your boys doc.u.mental. Will you be pleased to have the parchment got ready, that I may affix my signature and seal."

Sir Cralo conducted his guest to his apartments. On going along the cross-pa.s.sage, they pa.s.sed a small room, the door of which was open.

Close to the bare wall stood a pillar, from the middle of which hung a chain. Over the portal, in faded colours, was painted a figure which held a rod in its lean hand. "Him whom the Lord loveth, he chastiseth,"

was written under it in capital letters.

Dame Hadwig cast an enquiring look at the Abbot.

"The scourging room!" replied he.

"Is none of the brothers just now liable to punishment?" asked she, "it might be a warning example."

Then the evil Sindolt's feet twitched as if he had trodden on a thorn.

He turned round as if he had been attracted by a voice calling to him, and exclaiming, "I am coming," he quickly vanished into the darker parts of the pa.s.sage. He well knew why he did so.

Notker the stutterer, after the labour of years, had at last completed a psalm-book, adorned with dainty drawings. This book the envious Sindolt had destroyed at night; casting it to pieces, and upsetting a jug of wine over it. On account of this, he had been sentenced to be flogged three times, and the last instalment was still due. He knew the room, and the instruments of penance hanging on the walls well enough, from the nine-tailed "Scorpion" down to the simple "wasp."

The Abbot hurried on. His state-rooms were richly decorated with flowers. Dame Hadwig threw herself into the primitive arm-chair, to rest from the fatigue of all the sight-seeing. She had received many new impressions within the s.p.a.ce of a few hours. There was still half an hour left before supper.

Had anyone taken the trouble to visit all the cloister-cells, he might have satisfied himself, that not a single inhabitant thereof had remained unaffected by the arrival of the high-born guests. Even those who pa.s.s their whole lives in seclusion, feel that they owe homage to woman.

The h.o.a.ry Tutilo had remembered with a pang, on the arrival of the d.u.c.h.ess, that the left sleeve of his habit was adorned with a hole.

Under ordinary circ.u.mstances the sleeve would probably have remained unpatched, until the next great festival, but now there was no time for delay. So he sat down on his couch, provided with needle and thread, busily mending the rent. Being once busy with such things he also put new soles to his sandals; fastening them with nails, and humming a tune to speed the work. Ratold the thinker, walked up and down in his cell, with a deep frown on his forehead, hoping that an opportunity would present itself to praise the virtues of the high-born guest in an improvised speech, and to heighten the effect of the spontaneous effusion, he was studying it beforehand. He intended to take the following lines of Tacitus, "on the Germans," for a text: "They believe also, that there is something holy about women, and that they have the gift of seeing into the future. Therefore they never disdain the advice given by them, and often follow their warnings." This was about all that he knew of the other s.e.x, but his squirrel-eyes twinkled with the hope, of being able, from the praise of the d.u.c.h.ess, easily to diverge to some spiteful criticism on his brethren. Unfortunately the opportunity to bring in his speech never came, or he did not know how to seize it.

In another cell, six of the brothers, sat under the huge ivory comb, which was suspended by an iron chain from the ceiling. This was a very useful inst.i.tution established by Abbot Hartmuth. Murmuring the prescribed prayers, they a.s.sisted one another in the careful arrangement of each others hair. Many an overgrown tonsure was also restored to a shining smoothness on that day.

While these things were going on in the monastery itself, no less activity was displayed in the kitchen under the superintendence of Gerold the steward. And now resounded the tinkling of that bell, the sounds of which were not heard without a pleasurable sensation, even by the most pious of the brethren, as it was the signal for the evening-meal. Abbot Cralo led the d.u.c.h.ess into the refectory. The large room was divided in the middle by nine pillars, and around fourteen covered tables, the members of the monastery, priests and deacons stood a.s.sembled, like champions of the church militant. These however did not pay any great attention to the n.o.ble guest.

The duty of reader for that week, before the meals, had to be performed by Ekkehard the custodian. In honour of the d.u.c.h.ess he had chosen the 45th psalm. He arose and said: "Oh Lord, open my lips, that my mouth may speak forth thy praise," and all repeated these words in a low murmur, as a sort of blessing on his reading.

After that he lifted his voice and began reciting the psalm, which Scripture itself calls a lovely one.

"My heart is inditing a good matter: I speak of the things which I have made, touching the king: my tongue is the pen of a ready writer.

"Thou art fairer than the children of men: grace is poured into thy lips: therefore G.o.d hath blessed thee for ever.

"Gird thy sword upon thy thigh O most mighty, with thy glory and thy majesty.

"And in thy majesty ride prosperously because of truth and meekness and righteousness.

"Thine arrows are sharp in the heart of the king's enemies; whereby the people fall under thee.

"Thy throne, before G.o.d, is for ever and ever: the sceptre of thy kingdom is a right sceptre.

"Thou lovest righteousness and hatest wickedness: therefore G.o.d, thy G.o.d hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows.

"All thy garments smell of myrrh, and aloes and ca.s.sia ..."

The d.u.c.h.ess seemed to understand the latent homage and as if she herself was being addressed in the words of the psalm, she fastened her eyes intently on Ekkehard. But the Abbot likewise had noticed this, and made a sign to interrupt the reading; and thus the psalm remained unfinished, and everyone sat down, to supper.

Sir Cralo could not however prevent Dame Hadwig's ordering the zealous reader, to sit down by her side. According to rank, this seat on her left side, had been destined for the old dean Gozbert; but he for the last few minutes had been sitting on thorns; for he had once indulged in a very rough-spoken dispute with Dame Hadwig's late husband, at the time when the latter carried off the precious chalice, as a war-contribution. On that account he had also a grudge against the d.u.c.h.ess, and had no sooner remarked her intention, than he gladly moved downwards, and pushed the custodian into his seat. Next to Ekkehard came Spazzo the chamberlain, and after him the monk Sindolt.

The meal began. The steward well knowing that the arrival of stranger guests, fully sanctioned an enlargement of the accustomed frugal cloister-fare, had not restricted himself to the ordinary porridge. The strict bill of fare of the late Abbot Hartmuth was also not adhered to.

To be sure there appeared at first a steaming dish of millet-porridge, that those, who preferred strictly to adhere to the prescribed rule, might satisfy their hunger: but after that, one delicacy followed another in quick succession. Side by side with the roast stag, stood the delicious bear's ham, and even the beaver of the upper pond, which had been robbed of its life, in honour of the occasion. Pheasants, partridges, turtle-doves and a rich collection of smaller birds followed; as well as an immense quant.i.ty of fish of all descriptions, so that finally every species of animal,--crawling, flying or swimming, that was good to eat, was represented on the table.

Many an one of the brothers, fought a fierce battle within the depths of his heart on that day. Even Gozbert the old dean,--after having stilled the craving of hunger with millet-porridge, and having pushed aside with a tremendous frown, the roasted stag and bear's ham, as if it were a temptation of the Evil One,--when afterwards a beautifully roasted grouse, was put down before him, felt the odour thereof rise temptingly into his nostrils. And with the savory smell the memories of his youth came back; when he himself was a first-rate sportsman, fully two score years ago, and when he went out in the early morning to shoot the wood-c.o.c.k, and meet the game-keeper's bright-eyed daughter; and twice he resisted the half involuntary movement of his arm, the third time he felt his strength going, and a moment after, one half of the bird lay before him, and was hastily dispatched.

Spazzo the chamberlain, had watched with an approving nod, the appearance of the many dishes. A large Rhine-salmon had quickly disappeared under his hands, and he now cast his eyes about, in search of something to drink. Then Sindolt, his neighbour, seized a small stone jug, poured out its contents into a metal cup and said: "Your health in the choicest wine of the monastery."

Master Spazzo intended to take a copious draught, but scarcely had the liquid touched his palate, when he put down the goblet hastily, shaking all over as with the ague, and exclaimed, "then may the Devil be friar!"

The evil Sindolt had given him a sour cider, made of crab-apples, and sweetened with the juice of the blackberry. On Master Spazzo's looking inclined to thank him by a blow, he quickly fetched a jug of the delicious red "Valtelliner," wherewith to soften his ire. The "Valtelliner" is a capital wine; in which formerly the Roman Emperor Augustus, drowned his grief over the lost battle of Varus. By degrees Master Spazzo's good humour returned; so that without knowing him, he willingly drank to the health of the Bishop of Chur; to whom the monastery was indebted for this wine, and Sindolt did not fail to keep him company.

"What may your patron say to such drinking?" asked the chamberlain.

"St. Benedict was a wise man," replied Sindolt, "therefore he ordained, that although it had been written, that wine was altogether no drink for monks, yet as not a single person, at the present day, could be persuaded of the justness of this observation; and in consequence of the weakness of the human mind, everyone should be allowed a bottle a day. No one however is to drink to satiety, for wine will make even the wisest swerve from the path of wisdom."

"Good," said Spazzo and drained his tumbler.

"On the other hand," continued Sindolt, "those of the brotherhood, in whose district little or no wine grows, must resign themselves, and praise the Lord without grumbling."

"Good also," said Spazzo again emptying his goblet.

Meanwhile the Abbot did his best, to entertain his princely cousin. He first began, to sing the praises of her late husband Sir Burkhard, but Dame Hadwig's responses were but scanty and cold, so that the Abbot found out, that everything has its time; especially the love of a widow for her late spouse. So he changed the conversation, asking her, how the cloister-schools had pleased her.