At which they all laughed, except Duke Johann, who gave a kick to his little brother, and then strode out of the room, exclaiming, "Sooner my life than my honour; I shall stay here no longer to be tutored and lectured, but will take my journey homewards this very night." And so he departed, but by a small side-door, for old Ulrich had locked the chief door on entering.

Now, indeed, her Grace wept bitterly: ah! she thought the evil had left her house, which the fatal business at her wedding had wrought on it, when Dr. Martinus dropped the ring; but, alas! it was only beginning now; and yet she could not curse him, for he was her son, and she had borne him in pain and sorrow.

_Summa_.--If many were displeased at these proceedings of his Grace, so also was the Lord G.o.d, as was seen clearly by many strange signs; for on that same night Duke Barnim the elder died at Oderburg, and all the crosses, k.n.o.bs, and spires throughout the whole town turned quite black, though they had only been newly gilded a year before, and no rain, lightning, or thunder had been observed. [Footnote: The Duke died 29th September 1573, aged 72 years.--_Micraelius_. 369.]

But this was all clearly to show the anger of G.o.d over the sins of the young Duke, and by these signs He would admonish him to repentance, as a father might gently threaten a refractory child.

As to what further happened his Grace when he went out by the little door, and the danger that befell him there, we shall hear more in another chapter.

CHAPTER XIV.

_How the knave Appelmann seizes his Serene Eminence Duke Johann by the throat, and how his Grace and the whole castle are saved by Marcus Bork and his young bride Clara; also, how Sidonia at last is taken prisoner._

The castle was now almost quite still, for as the festival had already lasted three days, the guests were pretty well tired of dancing and drinking, and most of them, like young Prince Barnim, had lain down to snore. Yet still there were many drinking in the great hall, or dancing in the saloon, for the fiddles fiddled away merrily until far in the night.

And it was a beautiful night this one; not too dark, but starry, bright, and soft and still, so that Marcus and his young bride glided away from the dancing and drinking, to wander in the cool, fresh air of the shrubbery, before they retired to their chamber.

So they pa.s.sed down the broad path that led from the garden to the drawbridge by the water-mill, and seating themselves on a bank under the shade of the trees, began to kiss and caress, as may well become a young bridal pair to do.

Soon they heard nine o'clock strike from the town, and immediately after, stealthy footsteps coming along the shrubbery towards them.

They held their breath, and remained quite still, thinking it was some half-drunken guest from the castle wandering this way; but then the drawbridge was lowered, and three persons advanced to a youth, as they could see plainly. One said, "Now?" to which another answered, "No, when I whistle!" He who had so asked, then went back again, but Sidonia and my knave came on with the boundary lad over the bridge (for, of course, every one will have guessed them) and entered the shrubbery where the young bridal pair were seated, but perfectly hidden, by reason of the darkness.

The boundary lad would now have drawn up the bridge, but the knave hindered him--"Let him leave it down; how would he escape else, if the carl roared, and all came running out of the castle to see what was the matter?" Then Sidonia asked the boy, if he thought the castle folk would hear him? To which he answered, no. They could thrash the hound securely, and he had brought a short cudgel with him for the purpose. Upon which my knave murmured to him, "Lead on, then; I must get out of this dark place to see what I am about. And when we get to the end of it, do you run and bring him out here. Then we shall both pay him off bravely."

So they crept on in the darkness towards the castle, but the young wedded pair had plenty of time to recognise both Sidonia and Appelmann by their voices. Therefore Marcus argued truly that the knave and his paramour could be about no good, for the whole land rang with their wickedness. And, no doubt, the band was in the vicinity, because Appelmann had answered, "No, when I whistle!"

So the good Marcus grew wroth over the villainy of this shameless pair, who had evidently resolved on nothing less than the destruction of the whole princely race, and even this castle of Daber was not to be spared, which belonged to his dear bride's father, so that their wicked purposes might be fulfilled. Then he whispered, did his dear wife know of any byway that led to the castle? as she was born here, perhaps some such little path might be known to her, so that she would escape meeting the villain. And as she whispered in return, "Yes, there was such a path," he bid her run along it quick as thought, have all the bells rung when she reached the castle, and even the cannon fired, which was ready loaded for the farewell salute to the Lady of Wolgast on the morrow; and to gather as many people together, of all stations and ages, as could be summoned on the instant, and let them shout "Murder! murder!" Meanwhile he would run and draw up the bridge, then track the fellow along the shrubbery, and seize him if possible.

How Clara trembled and hesitated, as a young girl might; but soon collecting herself, she said, although with much agitation, "I will trust in G.o.d: the Lord is my strength, of whom then should I be afraid?" and plunged alone into the darkest part of the shrubbery.

Marcus instantly ran down to the garden door, and began to draw up the bridge with as little noise as possible. "What are you doing?"

called out a voice to him from the other side. "I hear steps," he answered, "and perchance it is the castellan on his rounds; he would discover all." So he draws up the bridge, and then glided along the shrubbery after my knave.

Meanwhile Appelmann and Sidonia, with the boundary lad, had reached the door of the castle, through which he was determined to make good his entrance after the lad by any means.

But at that very instant it opened, and my gracious lord Duke Johann Frederick stood before them. For it has been already mentioned, that he left the chamber in which the family council was held, by a small private door which led down to this portion of the castle. Here he was looking about for his court-jester, Clas Hinze, to bid him order the carriages to convey him and his suite that very night to Freienwald, and by chance opened this very door which led out to the shrubbery.

Seeing no one from the darkness, the Duke called out, "Is Clas there?" to which Appelmann answered, "Yes, my lord" (for he had recognised the Duke by his voice), and at the same time he retreated a few steps into the shrubbery, hoping the Duke would follow him.

But the Duke called out again, "Where art thou, Clas?" "Here!"

responded Appelmann, retreating still further. Whereupon the boundary lad whispered, "That is not him!" His Grace, however, heard the whisper, and called out angrily, while he advanced from the door, "What meanest thou, knave? It is I who call! Art thou drunk, fool? If so, thou must have a bucket of water on thy head, for we ride away this night."

So speaking, his Highness went on still further into the shrubbery, upon which my knave makes a spring at his throat and hurls him to the ground, while he gives a loud, shrill whistle through the fingers of his other hand. Now the boundary lad screamed in earnest; but Sidonia threatened him, and bade him hold his tongue, and run for the other fellows, and not mind them. But she screamed yet louder herself, when a powerful arm seized her round the waist, and she found herself in the grasp of Marcus Bork.

Appelmann, who had stuffed his kerchief into the Duke's mouth to stifle his cries, and placed one knee upon his breast, now sprang up in terror at her scream, while at the same instant the bells rang, the cannon was fired, and all the court was filled with people shouting, "Murder! murder!" So he let go his hold of the Duke, and without waiting to release Sidonia, darted down the shrubbery, reached the bridge, and finding it raised, plunged into the water, and swam to the other side.

And here we see the hand of the all-merciful G.o.d; for had the bridge been down, the band would have rushed over at their captain's whistle, and then, methinks, there would have been a sad end to the whole princely race, for, as I have said, half the guests were drunk and half were snoring, so that but for Marcus this evil and accursed woman would have destroyed them all, as she had sworn. True, they were destroyed by her at last, but not until G.o.d gave them over to destruction, in consequence of their sins, no doubt, and of the wickedness of the land.

_Summa_.--When my gracious lord felt himself free, he sprang up, crying, "Help! help!" and ran as quick as he could back into the castle. Marcus Bork followed with Sidonia, who drew a knife to stab him, but he saw the glitter of the blade by the light of the lanterns (for one can easily imagine that the bells and the cannon had brought all the snorers to their legs), and giving her a blow upon the arm that made her drop the knife, dragged her through the little door, after the Duke, as fast as he was able.

So the whole princely party stood there, and great and small shouted when the upright Marcus appeared, holding Sidonia firmly by the back, while she writhed and twisted, and kicked him with her heels till the sweat poured down his face.

But when old Ulrich beheld her, he exclaimed, "Seven thousand devils!--do my eyes deceive me, or is this Sidonia again?" Her Grace, too, turned pale, and all were horrified at seeing the evil one, for they knew her wickedness.

Then Marcus must relate the whole story, and how he came to bring to nought the counsel of the devil.

And when Duke Johann heard the whole extent of the danger from which he had been saved, he fell upon the neck of the loyal Marcus, and, pressing him to his heart, exclaimed, "Well-beloved Marcus, and dear friend, thou hast saved my brother of Wolgast in the Stettin forest, so hast thou saved me this night, therefore accept knighthood from my hands; and I make thee governor of my fortress of Saatzig."

To which the other answered, "He thanked his Grace heartily for the honours; but he had already promised to remain in the service of his princely brother of Wolgast; and for that object had made purchase of the lands of Crienke."

But his Highness would hear of no refusal. Only let him look at Saatzig; it was the finest fortress in the land. What would he do in a miserable fishing village? The castle was almost grander than his own ducal house at Stettin; and the knights' hall, with its stone pillars and carved capitals, was the most stately work of architecture in the kingdom. Where would he find such a dwelling in his village nest? Old Kleist, the governor, had just died, and to whom could he give the castle sooner than to his right worthy and loyal Marcus?

When old Dewitz heard this (he was a little, dry old man, with long grey hair), he pressed forward to his son-in-law, and bade him by no means refuse a Prince's offer; besides, Saatzig was but two miles off, and they could see each other every Sunday. Also, if they had a hunt, a standard erected on the tower of one castle could be seen plainly from the tower of the other, and so they could lead a right pleasant, neighbourly life, almost as if they all lived together.

Still Marcus will not consent. Upon which his mother-in-law can no longer suppress her feelings, and comes forward to entreat him.

(She was a good, pious matron, and as fat as her husband was thin.) So she stroked his cheeks--"And where in the land, as far as Usdom, could he find such fine muranes and maranes [Footnote: The great marana weighs from ten to twelve pounds, and is a species of salmon-trout. The murana is of the same race, but not larger than the herring. It must not be confounded with the _murana_ of which the Romans were so fond, which was a species of eel.]--this fish he loved so much?--and where was such fine flax to be had, for his young wife to spin?--no flax in the land equalled that of Saatzig!--since ever she was a little girl, people talked of the fine Saatzig flax. Let her dear daughter Clara come over, and see could she prevail aught with her stern husband. Why, they could send pudding hot to each other, the castles were so near."

And now the mild young bride approached her husband, and taking his hand gently, looked up into his eyes with soft, beseeching glances, but spake no word; so that the princely widow of Wolgast was moved, and said, "Good Marcus, if you only fear to offend my son of Wolgast by taking service at Saatzig, be composed on that head, for I myself will make your peace. Great, indeed, would be my joy to have you and your young spouse settled at Crienke, which, you know, is but half a mile from Pudgla, my dower-castle, where I mean to reside; yet these beseeching glances of my little Clara fill my heart with compa.s.sion, for do I not read in her clear eyes that she would love to stay near her dear parents, as indeed is natural? Therefore, in G.o.d's name accept the offer of your Prince. I myself command you."

Hereupon Marcus inclined himself gracefully to the d.u.c.h.ess and Duke Johann, and pressed his little wife to his heart. "But what need, gracious Prince, of a governor at Saatzig, when all the courts are closed and no justice can be done? I shall eat my bread in idleness, like a worn-out hound. But, marry, if your Grace consents to open the courts, I will accept your offer with thanks, and do my duty as governor with all justice and fidelity." Then his Grace answered, "What! good Marcus, dost thou begin again on that old theme which roused my wrath so lately, and made me fall into that peril? But I bethink me of thy bravery, and will say no bitter word; only, thou mayest hold thy peace, for I have sworn by my princely honour, and from that there is no retreating. However, thou hast leave to hold jurisdiction in thy own government, and execute justice according to thy own upright judgment."

So Marcus was silent; but the d.u.c.h.ess and the other princes took up the subject, and a.s.sailed his Highness with earnest pet.i.tions--"Had he not himself felt and seen the danger of permitting these freebooters to get such a head in the land? Had not the finger of G.o.d warned him this very night, in hopes of turning him back to the right path? Let him reflect, for the peace of his land was at stake." But all in vain. Even though old Ulrich tumbled into the argument with his seven thousand devils, yet could they obtain no other answer from his Highness but--"If the states give me gold, I shall open the courts; if they give no gold, the courts shall remain closed for ever. Were he to be brought before the Emperor, or Pontius Pilate himself, it was all alike; they might tear him in pieces, but not one nail's breadth of his princely word would he retreat from, or break it like a woman, for their prayers."

Then he rose, and calling his fool Clas to him, bid him run to the old priest, and tell him he would sleep at his quarters that night, for he must have peace; but the merry Clas, as he was running out, got behind his Highness, and stuck his fool's cap upon the head of his Grace, crying out, "Here, keep my cap for me."

However, his Highness did not relish the joke, for every one laughed; and he ran after the fool, trying to catch him, and threatening to have his head cut off; but Clas got behind the others, and clapping his hands, cried out, "You can't, for the courts are closed. Huzza! the courts are closed!" Whereupon he runs out at the door, and my gracious lord after him, with the fool's cap upon his head. Nor did he return again to the hall, but went to sleep at the priest's quarters, as he had said; and next morning, by the first dawn of day, set off on his journey homeward.

All this while no one had troubled himself about Sidonia. My gracious lady wept, the young lords laughed, old Ulrich swore, whilst the good Marcus murmured softly to his young wife, "Be happy, Clara; for thy sake I shall consent to go to Saatzig. I have decided."

This filled her with such joy that she danced, and smiled, and flung herself into her mother's arms; nothing was wanting now to her happiness! Just then her eyes rested upon Sidonia, who was leaning against the wall, as pale as a corpse. Clara grew quite calm in a moment, and asked, compa.s.sionately, "What aileth thee, poor Sidonia?"

"_I am hungry!_" was the answer. At this the gentle bride was so shocked, that the tears filled her eyes, and she exclaimed, "Wait, thou shalt partake of my wedding-feast;" and away went she.

The attention of the others was, by this time, also directed to Sidonia. And old Ulrich said, "Compose yourself, gracious lady; I trust your son, the Prince, will not be so hard and stern as he promises; now that the water has touched his own neck, methinks he will soon come to reason. But what shall we do now with Sidonia?"

Upon which my Lady of Wolgast turned to her, and asked if she were yet wedded to her gallows-bird? "Not yet," was the answer; "but she would soon be." Then my gracious lady spat out at her; and, addressing Ulrich, asked what he would advise.

So the stout old knight said, "If the matter were left to him, he would just send for the executioner, and have her ears and nose slit, as a warning and example, for no good could ever come of her now, and then pack her off next day to her farm at Zachow; for if they let her loose, she would run to her paramour again, and come at last to gallows and wheel; but if they just slit her nose, then he would hold her in abhorrence, as well as all other men-folk."

During this, Clara had entered, and set fish, and wild boar, and meat, and bread, before the girl; and as she heard Ulrich's last words, she bent down and whispered, "Fear nothing, Sidonia, I hope to be able to protect thee, as I did once before; only eat, Sidonia! Ah! hadst thou followed my advice! I always meant well by thee; and even now, if I thought thou wouldst repent truly, poor Sidonia, I would take thee with me to the castle of Saatzig, and never let thee want for aught through life."

When Sidonia heard this, she wept, and promised amendment. Only let Clara try her, for she could never go to Zachow and play the peasant-girl. Upon which Clara turned to her Highness, and prayed her Grace to give Sidonia up to her. See how she was weeping; misfortune truly had softened her, and she would soon be brought back to G.o.d. Only let her take her to Saatzig, and treat her as a sister. At this, however, old Ulrich shook his head--"Clara, Clara," he exclaimed, "knowest thou not that the Moor cannot change his skin, nor the leopard his spots? I cannot, then, let the serpent go. Think on our mother, girl; it is a bad work playing with serpents."

Her Grace, too, became thoughtful, and said at last--

"Could we not send her to the convent at Marienfliess, or somewhere else?"