A league behind Andernach, and more
in the wintry circle of the sun than Laach, its convenient
monastic neighbour, stood the castle of Werner, the
Robber Baron. Far into the South, hazy with afternoon
light, a yellow succession of sandhills stretched
away, spouting fire against the blue sky of an elder
world, but now dead and barren of herbage. Around
is a dusty plain, where the green blades of spring
no sooner peep than they become grimed with sand and
take an aged look, in accordance with the ungenerous
harvests they promise. The aridity of the prospect
is relieved on one side by the lofty woods of Laach,
through which the sun setting burns golden-red, and
on the other by the silver sparkle of a narrow winding
stream, bordered with poplars, and seen but a glistening
mile of its length by all the thirsty hills. The
Eck, or Corner, itself, is thick-set with wood, but
of a stunted growth, and lying like a dark patch on
the landscape. It served, however, entirely to
conceal the castle, and mask every movement of the
wary and terrible master. A trained eye advancing
on the copse would hardly mark the glimmer of the
turrets over the topmost leaves, but to every loophole
of the walls lies bare the circuit of the land.
Werner could rule with a glance the Rhine’s
course down from the broad rock over Coblentz to the
white tower of Andernach. He claimed that march
as his right; but the Mosel was no hard ride’s
distance, and he gratified his thirst for rapine chiefly
on that river, delighting in it, consequently, as
much as his robber nature boiled over the bound of
his feudal privileges.
Often had the Baron held his own against
sieges and restrictions, bans and impositions of all
kinds. He boasted that there was never a knight
within twenty miles of him that he had not beaten,
nor monk of the same limit not in his pay. This
braggadocio received some warrant from his yearly
increase of licence; and his craft and his castle combined,
made him a notable pest of the region, a scandal to
the abbey whose countenance he had, and a frightful
infliction on the poorer farmers and peasantry.
The sun was beginning to slope over
Laach, and threw the shadows of the abbey towers half-way
across the blue lake-waters, as two men in the garb
of husbandmen emerged from the wood. Their feet
plunged heavily and their heads hung down, as they
strode beside a wain mounted with straw, whistling
an air of stupid unconcern; but a close listener might
have heard that the lumbering vehicle carried a human
voice giving them directions as to the road they were
to take, and what sort of behaviour to observe under
certain events. The land was solitary. A
boor passing asked whether toll or tribute they were
conveying to Werner. Tribute, they were advised
to reply, which caused him to shrug and curse as he
jogged on. Hearing him, the voice in the wain
chuckled grimly. Their next speech was with a
trooper, who overtook them, and wanted to know what
they had in the wain for Werner. Tribute, they
replied, and won the title of ‘brave pigs’
for their trouble.
‘But what’s the dish made
of?’ said the trooper, stirring the straw with
his sword-point.
‘Tribute,’ came the answer.
‘Ha! You’ve not been
to Werner’s school,’ and the trooper swung
a sword-stroke at the taller of the two, sending a
tremendous shudder throughout his frame; but he held
his head to the ground, and only seemed to betray
animal consciousness in leaning his ear closer to the
wain.
‘Blood and storm! Will ye speak?’
cried the trooper.
’Never talk much; but an ye
say nothing to the Baron,’ thrusting
his hand into the straw ’here’s
what’s better than speaking.’
‘Well said! Eh? Liebfrauenmilch?
Ho, ho! a rare bleed!’
Striking the neck of the flask on
a wheel, the trooper applied it to his mouth, and
ceased not deeply ingurgitating till his face was broad
to the sky and the bottle reversed. He then dashed
it down, sighed, and shook himself.
’Rare news! the Kaiser’s
come: he’ll be in Cologne by night; but
first he must see the Baron, and I’m post with
the order. That’s to show you how high
he stands in the Kaiser’s grace. Don’t
be thinking of upsetting Werner yet, any of you; mind,
now!’
‘That’s Blass-Gesell,’
said the voice in the wain, as the trooper trotted
on: adding, ‘’gainst us.’
‘Makes six,’ responded the driver.
Within sight of the Eck, they descried
another trooper coming toward them. This time
the driver was first to speak.
’Tribute! Provender!
Bread and wine for the high Baron Werner from his
vassals over Tonnistein.’
‘And I’m out of it! fasting
like a winter wolf,’ howled the fellow.
He was in the act of addressing himself
to an inspection of the wain’s contents, when
a second flask lifted in air, gave a sop to his curiosity.
This flask suffered the fate of the former.
‘A Swabian blockhead, aren’t you?’
‘Ay, that country,’ said
the driver. ’May be, Henker Rothhals happens
to be with the Baron?’
’To hell with him! I wish
he had my job, and I his, of watching the yellow-bird
in her new cage, till she’s taken out to-night,
and then a jolly bumper to the Baron all round.’
The driver wished him a fortunate
journey, strongly recommending him to skirt the abbey
westward, and go by the Ahr valley, as there was something
stirring that way, and mumbling, ‘Makes five
again,’ as he put the wheels in motion.
‘Goshawk!’ said his visible
companion; ‘what do you say now?’
‘I say, bless that widow!’
‘Oh! bring me face to face with
this accursed Werner quickly, my God!’ gasped
the youth.
’Tusk! ’tis not Werner
we want there’s the Thier speaking.
No, no, Schwartz Thier! I trust you, no doubt;
but the badger smells at a hole, before he goes inside
it. We’re strangers, and are allowed to
miss our way.’
Leaving the wain in Farina’s
charge, he pushed through a dense growth of shrub
and underwood, and came crouching on a precipitous
edge of shrouded crag, which commanded a view of the
stronghold, extending round it, as if scooped clean
by some natural action, about a stone’sthrow
distant, and nearly level with the look-out tower.
Sheer from a deep circular basin clothed with wood,
and bottomed with grass and bubbling water, rose a
naked moss-stained rock, on whose peak the castle firmly
perched, like a spying hawk. The only means of
access was by a narrow natural bridge of rock flung
from this insulated pinnacle across to the mainland.
One man, well disposed, might have held it against
forty.
‘Our way’s the best,’
thought Guy, as he meditated every mode of gaining
admission. ’A hundred men an hour might
be lost cutting steps up that steep slate; and once
at the top we should only have to be shoved down again.’
While thus engaged, he heard a summons
sounded from the castle, and scrambled back to Farina.
‘The Thier leads now,’
said he, ’and who leads is captain. It seems
easier to get out of that than in. There’s
a square tower, and a round. I guess the maiden
to be in the round. Now, lad, no crying out You
don’t come in with us; but back you go for the
horses, and have them ready and fresh in yon watered
meadow under the castle. The path down winds
easy.’
‘Man!’ cried Farina, ‘what
do you take me for? go you for the horses.’
‘Not for a fool,’ Guy
rejoined, tightening his lip; ’but now is your
time to prove yourself one.’
‘With you, or without you, I enter that castle!’
’Oh! if you want to be served
up hot for the Baron’s supper-mess, by all means.’
‘Thunder!’ growled Schwartz Thier, ‘aren’t
ye moving?’
The Goshawk beckoned Farina aside.
‘Act as I tell you, or I’m for Cologne.’
‘Traitor!’ muttered the youth.
’Swearing this, that if we fail,
the Baron shall need a leech sooner than a bride.’
‘That stroke must be mine!’
The Goshawk griped the muscle of Farina’s
arm till the youth was compelled to slacken it with
pain.
’Could you drive a knife through
a six-inch wood-wall? I doubt this wild boar
wants a harder hit than many a best man could give.
’Sblood! obey, sirrah. How shall we keep
yon fellow true, if he sees we’re at points?’
‘I yield,’ exclaimed Farina
with a fall of the chest; ’but hear I nothing
of you by midnight Oh! then think not I
shall leave another minute to chance. Farewell!
haste! Heaven prosper you! You will see her,
and die under her eyes. That may be denied to
me. What have I done to be refused that last
boon?’
‘Gone without breakfast and
dinner,’ said Guy in abhorrent tones.
A whistle from the wain, following
a noise of the castlegates being flung open, called
the Goshawk away, and he slouched his shoulders and
strode to do his part, without another word. Farina
gazed after him, and dropped into the covert.