Let him speak to the others about it, and see would they consent.

He knew of many churches where there were jewels and other valuables still remaining. Also in Stargard, where his dear father played the burgomaster, there was much gold.

So they fixed a night when they should all meet at Lastadie, [Footnote: A suburb of Stettin.] near the ducal fish-house; and Johann then goes to Sidonia to wheedle her out of the gold chain, for handsel for the robbers.

"Now," he said, "the good old times were come back in Pomerania, when every one trusted to his own good sword, and were not led like sheep at the beck of another; for the treasury and all the courts of justice were closed. So the glorious times of knight-errantry must come again, such as their forefathers had seen." His companions had promised to elect him captain; but then he must give them handsel for that, and the gold chain would just sell for the sum he wanted. What use was it to her? If she gave it, then he would take her with him, and the first rich prize they got he would marry her certainly, and settle down in Poland afterwards, or wherever else she wished. That would be a glorious life, and she would never regret the young Duke. And had not all the n.o.bles in old time led the same life, and so gained their castles and lands?

But Sidonia began to weep. "Let him do what he would, she would never give the chain; and if he beat her, she would scream for help through the streets, and betray all his plans to the authorities. Now she saw plainly how she had been deceived. He had talked her out of all her gold, and now wanted to bring her to the gallows at last. No, never should he get the chain--it was all she had left; and she had determined at last to go and live quietly at her farm in Zachow, as soon as she could obtain a vehicle from Regenswald to Labes."

When Johann heard this, he was terribly alarmed, and kissed her little hands, and coaxed and flattered her--"Why did she weep?

There were plenty of herons' feathers now in the garden behind St.

Mary's, for the birds were moulting. She could easily get some of them, and they were worth three times as much as the gold chain.

Did she think it a crime to take a few feathers from that old sinner, Duke Barnim, or his girls? And if she really wished to leave him, she could sell the feathers even better in Dresden than here."

It was all in vain. Sidonia continued weeping--"Let him talk as he liked, she would never give the chain. He was a knave through and through. Woe to her that she had ever listened to him! He was the cause of all her misery!" and so she went on.

But the cunning fox would not give up his prey so easily. He now tried the same trick which he had played so successfully at Wolgast upon old Ulrich, and at Stargard upon his father; in short, he played the penitent, and began to weep and lament over his errors, and all the misery he had caused her. "It was, indeed, true that he was to blame for all; but if she would only forgive him, and say she pardoned him, he would devote his life to her, and revenge her upon all her enemies. The moment for doing so was nigh at hand; for the young lord, Prince Ernest, who had so shamefully abandoned her, was coming here to Stettin with his young bride, the Princess Hedwig of Brunswick, to spend the honeymoon, and would he not take good care to waylay them on their journey to Wolgast, and give them something to think of for the rest of their lives?"

When Sidonia heard these tidings, her eyes flashed like a cat's in the dark. "Who told him that? She would not believe it, unless some one else confirmed the story."

So he answered--"That any one could confirm it, for the whole castle was filled with workmen making preparations for their reception; the bridal chamber had been hung with new tapestry, and painters and carvers were busy all day long painting and carving the united arms of Pomerania and Brunswick upon all the furniture and gla.s.s."

_Illa_.--"Well, she would go into the town to inquire, and if his tale were true, and that he swore to marry her, he should have the chain."

_Ille_.--"There was a carver going by with his basket and tools--let her call him in, and hear what he said on the matter."

So my cunning fellow called out to the workman, who stepped in presently with his basket, and a.s.sured the lady politely, that in fourteen days the young Duke of Wolgast and his princely bride were to arrive at the castle, for the Court Marshal had told him this himself, and given him orders to have a large number of gla.s.ses cut with their united arms ready with all diligence.

When Sidonia heard this, and saw the gla.s.ses in his basket, she handed the golden chain to Johann, and the carver went his way.

Then the aforesaid rogue fell down on his knees, swearing to marry her, and never to leave her more, for she had now given him all; and if this, too, were lost, she must beg her way to Zachow.

So the gallows-bird went off with the chain, turned it into money, drank and caroused, and with the remainder set off for Lastadie, to meet the ringleaders, near the ducal fishhouse, as agreed upon.

But Master Konneman had only been able to gather ten fellows together; the others held back, though they had talked so boldly at first, thinking, no doubt, that when the courts of justice were reopened, they would all be brought to the gallows.

So Johann thought the number too small for his purposes, and agreed with the others to send an envoy to the robber-band of the Stargard Wood, proposing a league between them, and offering himself (Johann Appelmann, a knight of excellent family and endowments) as their captain. Should they consent, the said Johann would give them right good handsel; and on the appointed day, meet them in the forest, with his ill.u.s.trious and n.o.ble bride; and as a sign whereby they should know him, he would whistle three times loudly when he approached the wood.

Konneman undertook to be the bearer of the message, and returned in a few days, declaring that the robbers had received the proposal with joy. He found them encamped under a large nut-tree in the forest, roasting a sheep upon a spear, at a large fire. So they made him sit down and eat with them, and told him it was a right jolly life, with no ruler but the great G.o.d above them.

Better to live under the free heaven than die in their squalid cabins. The band was strong, besides many who had joined lately, since the bankruptcy of Hans Loitz, and there were some gipsies too, amongst whom was an old hag who told fortunes, and had lately prophesied to the band that a great prize was in store for them; they had just returned with some booty from the little town of Damm, where they had committed a robbery. One of their party, however, had been taken there.

When Johann heard the good result of his message, he summoned all his followers to another meeting at the ducal fish-house, gave them each money, and swore them to fidelity; then bid them disperse, and slip singly to the band, to avoid observation, and he would himself meet them in the forest next day.

CHAPTER VIII.

_How Johann and Sidonia meet an adventure, at Alten Damm--Item, of their reception by the robber-band._

Now Johann Appelmann had a grudge against the newly appointed equerry to his Highness, for the man had swilled his claret, and been foremost in his promises, and yet now had stepped into the place himself, and left Johann in the lurch. The knave, therefore, determined on revenge; so invented a story, how that his father, old Appelmann, had sent for him to give him half of all he was worth, and as he must journey to Stargard directly, he prayed his friend the equerry to lend him a couple of horses and a waggon out of the ducal stables, with harness and all that would be necessary, swearing that when he brought them back he would give him and his other friends such a carouse at the inn, as they had never yet had in their lives.

And when the other asked, would not one horse be sufficient, Johann replied no, that he required the waggon for his luggage, and two horses would be necessary to draw it. _Summa_, the fool gives him two beautiful Andalusian stallions, with harness and saddles; _item_, a waggon, whereon my knave mounted next morning early, with Sidonia and her luggage, and took the miller, Konneman, with him as driver.

But as they pa.s.sed through Alten Damm, a strange adventure happened, whereby the all-merciful G.o.d, no doubt, wished to turn them from their evil way; but they flung His warnings to the wind.

For the carl was going to be executed who belonged to the robber-band, that had committed a burglary there, in the town, some days previously. However, the gallows having been blown down by a storm, the linen-weavers, according to old usage, came to erect another. This angered the millers, who also began to erect one of their own, declaring that the weavers had only a right to supply the ladder, but they were to erect the gallows. A great fight now arose between weavers and millers, while the poor thief stood by with his hands tied behind his back, and arrayed in his winding-sheet. But the sheriffs, and whatever other honourable citizens were by, having in vain endeavoured to appease the quarrel, returned to the inn, to take the advice of the honourable council.

Just at this moment Johann and Sidonia drove into the middle of the crowd, and the former leaped off and laughed heartily, for a miller had thrown down a poor lean weaver close behind the criminal, and was belabouring him stoutly with his floured fists, whilst the poor wretch screamed loudly for succour or a.s.sistance to the criminal, who answered in his _Platt Deutsch_, "I cannot help thee, friend, for, see, my hands are bound." Upon this, Johann draws his knife from his girdle, and slipping behind the felon, cuts the ropes binding him.

He straightway, finding himself free, jumped upon the miller, and turned the flour all red upon his face with his heavy blows. Then he ran towards the waggon, but the guardsman caught hold of him by the shoulder, so the poor wretch left the winding-sheet in his hand, and jumping, naked as he was, on the back of one of the horses, set off, at top speed, to the forest, with Sidonia screaming and roaring fleeing with him.

Millers and weavers now left off their wrangling, and joined together in pursuit, but in vain; the fellow soon distanced them all, and was lost to sight in the wood.

When he had driven the waggon a good s.p.a.ce, and still hearing the roaring of the people in pursuit, he stopped the horses, and jumped off, to take to his heels amongst the trees. Whereupon Konneman threw him a horse-cloth from the waggon, bidding him cover himself with it; so the carl snapped it up, and rolled it about his body with all alacrity. Now this horse-cloth was embroidered with the Pomeranian arms, and the poor Adam looked so absurd running away in such a garment, that Sidonia, notwithstanding all her fright, could not help bursting into a loud mocking laughter.

Whereupon the crowd came up, cursing, swearing, and cursing, that the thief had escaped them; Johann Appelmann, who was amongst them, and was just in the act of stepping up to the waggon, when Prince Johann Frederick and a company of carbineers galloped up along with the chief equerry and a large retinue, all on their way to Friedrichswald.

The Duke stopped to hear the cause of the tumult, and when they told him, he laughingly said, he would soon return with the gallows-knaves; then, turning to Appelmann, he asked who he was, and what brought him there?

When Johann gave his name, and said he was going to Stargard, his Grace exclaimed, with surprise--

"So thou art the knave of whom I have heard so much; and this woman here, I suppose, is Sidonia? Pity of her. She is a handsome wench, I see."

Then, as Sidonia blushed and looked down, he continued--

"And where did the fellow get these fine horses? Would he sell them?"

Now Appelmann had a great mind to tell the truth, and say he got them from the equerry, who was already turning white with pure fear; but recollecting that he might come in for some of the punishment himself, besides hoping to play a second trick upon his Highness, he answered, that his father at Stargard had made them a present to him.

The Duke, now turning to his equerry, asked him--

"Would not these horses match his Andalusian stallions perfectly?"

And as the other tremblingly answered, "Yes, perfectly," his Grace demanded if the knave would sell them.

_Ille_.--"Oh yes; to gratify his Serene Highness the Duke, he would sell the horses for 3000 florins."

"Let it be so," said the Duke; "but I must owe thee the money, fellow."

_Ille_.--"Then he would not make the bargain, for he wanted the money directly to take him to Stargard."

So the Duke frowned that he would not trust his own Prince; and as Appelmann attempted to move off with the waggon, his Highness took his plumed cap from his head, and cutting off the diamond agrafe with his dagger, flung it to him, exclaiming--

"Stay! take these jewels, they are worth 1300 florins, but leave me the horses."

Now the chief equerry nearly fell from his horse with shame as the knave picked up the agrafe, and shoved it into his pocket, then humbly addressing his Highness, prayed for permission just to leave the maiden and her luggage in Stargard, and then he would return instantly with both horses, and bring them himself to his gracious Highness at Friedrichswald.

The Duke having consented, the knave sprang up upon the waggon, and turning off to another road, drove away as hard as he could from the scene of this perilous adventure. After some time he whistled, but receiving no response, kept driving through the forest until evening, when a loud, shrill whistle at last replied to his, and on reaching a cross-road, he found the whole band dancing with great merriment round a large sign-board which had been stuck up there by the authorities, and on which was painted a gipsy lying under the gallows, while the executioner stood over him in the act of applying the torture, and beneath ran the inscription--