Volume I Part 21 (2/2)
”Ay!” retorted the mask, with cold sternness. ”You and your whole race, with all your gold, would not outweigh the single head of the n.o.ble Tausdorf, whom your iniquity has slaughtered. There can be no talk between us of mercy or atonement, but of well-earned retribution: therefore, away with you, scoundrel! away to death!”
And he flung a noose about Christopher's neck, and dragged him from the bed.
”Heaven be thanked!” said the other mask, pulling strongly at the rope.
”At last we come from words to deeds.”
Like vultures upon a lamb, they pounced upon the unhappy Christopher with murderous hands, and dragged him out of the door in spite of his impotent strugglings;--fainter and fainter sounded his half-stifled cries--at last there was a heavy fall in the distance, and a sound as of the splash of water from a depth: then another short, low groan; and the old silence of night resumed her reign, and the clock of the Sessions-house struck the third hour.
The next morning when the old Erasmus entered the Sessions-chamber, he found the a.s.sembled provosts standing with gloomy faces about the butcher, George Heymann, master of the shambles, who was showing a b.l.o.o.d.y wound in his neck, and took on most piteously.
”Things cannot go on in this way any longer, Mr. Burgomaster,” cried the Alderman Kaspar Franz, in a tone that the old man had not been accustomed to hear in Schweidnitz. ”It is inconceivable what our good city suffers from your violence and blunders. It is not enough that we must frequently submit to a scarcity of provisions, because the va.s.sals of the n.o.bles no longer dare to come to market here, but our citizens are no more secure of their lives if they venture beyond the walls. As this poor man was driving sheep to town, Hans Ecke of Viehau, and Hans Hund of Ingersdorf, fell upon him with naked weapons, struck at his neck, and when he stood on his defence, wounded him severely with a dagger. In this manner things go on daily; they already level their guns at our watchmen upon the walls, and we shall soon be forced to put on armour when we go to the sessions-house. For all this evil we have to thank no one but you; and do you, therefore, find a remedy. You have cooked this bitter broth for us, and do you now help in eating it, that we may at last have clean dishes.”
”Lead the wounded man to the nearest surgeon,” said Erasmus to the servant in waiting. ”He shall be dressed at my expense.”
The servant obeyed. The burgomaster crept up to his seat of honour, and sat himself down exhausted, as he turned to the last speaker.--”It is hard of you, colleague, to lay to my charge the consequences of measures which were adopted by the general consent of the council.
Besides, the affair is not yet settled, and your reproaches, therefore, in any case, are too early. If the emperor should receive our answer as valid, we shall then a.s.suredly not be denied satisfaction for the waylayings of these knightly robbers. From Ingolstadt, too, the legal opinion has been sent in reply to our inquiries, that we proceeded well with Tausdorf, and I still, therefore, entertain good hopes.”
”If these hopes should not happen to be built on sand,” exclaimed Alderman Franz; ”the Emperor will hardly decide on us by the opinion of the gentlemen of Ingolstadt. The whole investigation was of so hostile a nature, and so humiliating in the forms for us, that we may thence infer a severe sentence with tolerable certainty. Besides, I have heard a bird whistle on this subject, whose tune by no means pleases me.”
The burgomaster stared in alarm at his colleague, when the door opened, and the servant announced, ”The delegates returning from Prague.”
”Returned already!” exclaimed Erasmus, and the last blood-drops forsook his face, so that he looked quite awful, like the alabaster-bust of some evil old Roman emperor.
And the old Christopher Drescher, the Alderman Melchior Lange, the Syndic Dr. Lange, entered slowly, with downcast eyes, and in silence took their places at the sessions-table. They were followed by the Secretary Jonas, who, with a heavy sigh, laid down his leathern portfolio on a side-table and opened it.
”You bring us nothing good?” asked Erasmus, after a long pause; and the Syndic exclaimed, ”What is the use of delaying, for you must know it at last? You sowed the seed by handfuls, and therefore the harvest cannot much surprise you. The wrath of Heaven lies heavy on us; the sentence could not be more severe. The city is declared to have forfeited its right of jurisdiction, and of electing its own council, the fief and land-court of the princ.i.p.ality is removed to Jauer, and the punishment of the council, and others, for the execution of Tausdorf, the Emperor has reserved to himself peculiarly. In a short time we may expect the Emperor's delegate, who, in his name, will annul our council, and conduct the further proceedings against us.”
In silence they listened to these evil tidings, in silence they remained sitting, when the Syndic had ceased to speak, all equally overwhelmed by the heavy fate that was hurrying upon them. Their eyes only, which were fixed on the burgomaster, expressed the reproaches they intended him. In the meantime the secretary had drawn from his portfolio the imperial decree, and taking it from its double envelope, now laid it with a condoling gesture on the table before Erasmus, who first glanced hastily below at the Emperor's seal and subscription, and then attempted to read. But he could not accomplish it; he still gazed on the first side, and soon his eyes stared vacantly from the paper on the air. The Vice-Consul was on the point of wakening him from this lethargy of the spirit, when the city-marshal rushed into the room with a face of horror. And now Erasmus started up from his stupefaction.--”Another Job's post,” he exclaimed; ”I read it in your countenance: but speak it out; we have already heard the worst; what is still to come cannot much affect us.”
”Would to heaven it were so!” replied the bailiff. ”My tidings concern you in particular, Mr. Burgomaster. Your son Christopher has been found dead in his night-clothes, in the well of his garden.”
A cry of horror burst from the lips of all present, and the old Erasmus clasped his long thin hands.--”My last!” he exclaimed piteously--then suddenly, in a louder voice, he added, ”Thou art just, O G.o.d!” and his head, with its silver locks, fell back, so that it hung over the elbow of his chair.
The council crowded about him in terror. The vice-consul looked at the old man's broken eyes, felt his pulse, and cried with deep emotion, ”He is dead!”
”He who does not walk in fear, does not please G.o.d!” cried Caspar, in his dark fanaticism, with the words of Sirach.
”De mortuis nil nisi bene, collega,” admonished the vice-consul. ”The deceased, with all his failings, was yet a MAN, in the full sense of the word, and therefore always estimable. If he has erred, he has severely suffered. Peace be with his ashes!”
He went to the head of the corse, and folded his hands in prayer. The others stood around and did the same; and from every lip trembled a low and devout supplication for the dead.
FOOTNOTES:
<script>