Part 4 (1/2)
But his first concern would be to hasten to impart this extraordinary piece of good news to his charming cousins.
He related all this to his guest with an air of great importance, and a.s.sured him he was so full of business that he scarcely knew where his head was. Albert had only one thought, that of seeing and speaking with Bertha, and he was so overjoyed in the antic.i.p.ation of such-unlooked for happiness, that he gladly would have embraced the bearer of the good tidings, if prudence had not deterred him from thus exhibiting his secret feelings.
”I can plainly see,” said the scribe, ”the pleasure this news gives you; the love of dancing brightens up your eyes already. I can promise you a couple of partners, such as you will not find every day. You shall dance with my cousins; for I am their chaperon on such occasions, and I will so arrange the matter that you and no other shall be the first to engage them; they will be enchanted when I promise them the best dancer in the room.” With this he left the apartment, wis.h.i.+ng his friend good morning, cautioning him when he went out of the house not to forget to notice it, so as to be able to find it again at dinner time.
Herr Kraft being a near relation of the Herrn von Besserer, was ent.i.tled to free access to his house, and upon this occasion he made an earlier call than usual.
He found the maidens still at breakfast. Ladies of the present day may perhaps be shocked at the homely meal which our two belles of Ulm, in the year 1519, were partaking of when their cousin Dieterick entered the room. It was not an elegant dejeune, served up in painted porcelain in the form of beautiful antique vases, or curious-shaped chocolate cups; no, the natural grace of Marie and Bertha was not impaired by the occupation of breakfasting on humble _beer-soup_,[1] at six in the morning, served up in the brown-coloured jug of that day. Can this avowal, however, prejudice the attractive qualities of these two beauties? In the eyes of some it perhaps may; but whoever could have seen Marie and Bertha, in their pretty little morning caps and neat clean dresses, would certainly, as cousin Kraft did, have no objection to partake of the breakfast with them.
”I can see at once, cousin,” began Marie, after the usual salutations of the morning, ”that you would like to partake of our soup, because, I suppose, your old cross nurse has not taken care of you this morning; but don't flatter yourself that you will get any here, for you deserve punishment, and must expect----”
”Oh, we have been waiting for you so long,” interrupted Bertha.
”Yes, to be sure we have,” said Marie, with her usual quick way; ”but don't flatter yourself that we care as much about your society, as to be informed of the news of what is going on, that's all.”
The scribe had been long accustomed to be received by Marie in this manner. He determined, therefore, to make himself as agreeable as possible, satisfying her curiosity by giving her all the gossip of the town, in order to pacify the jealous mood, which he thought he had excited. He was about to begin, when Marie interrupted him. ”We know,”
said she, ”that you are too fond of a long story, and as we witnessed most of your doings in the town-hall yesterday from the balcony, we'll say nothing touching your drinking bout there, which speaks not much to your credit; but answer me this question.”--She placed herself before him in an att.i.tude of comic seriousness, and went on: ”Dieterick von Kraft, scribe of the most n.o.ble council of state, did you notice among the confederates, at the dinner given yesterday in the town-hall, a remarkably distinguished-looking young knight, with long light-brown hair, a face not so milk-white as your own, but not less handsome; a small beard, not so carefully combed as yours, but much more beautiful; a light blue scarf with silver----!”
”Oh, that is no other than my guest,” cried cousin Kraft; ”he rode a large brown horse, and wore a blue jacket, slashed at the shoulders, and turned up with light blue.”
”Yes, yes, go on; the very one,” said Marie; ”we have our particular reasons for inquiring all about him.”
”Well, that is Albert von Sturmfeder,” answered the scribe, ”a handsome charming young fellow. It is curious that you should be the first he noticed in coming into the town.” Kraft then related all the particulars of what had pa.s.sed at the dinner, how he was at once struck by the manly figure, the commanding and attractive countenance of the young man, who, by good luck, became his neighbour at table, and that the more he knew of him the more he liked him; so much so, that he had invited him to his house.
Bertha rose from her seat, and went to look for her work-box, turning her back at the same time upon both her cousins, in order to conceal a blush which flew to her forehead, and which proved that not one word of Dieterick's conversation was lost upon her.
”Come, that is very kind of you, cousin,” said Marie, as he finished: ”I believe it is the first time you have ventured to have a guest in your house. I should like to have seen the face of old Sabina, when master Dieter, as she calls you, brought a stranger home so late at night.”
”Oh,” said the scribe, ”she resembled the dragon attacking St. George; but I gave her to understand pretty clearly, that it was not at all improbable, I might soon bring home one of my pretty cousins----”
”Ah, get away with you, and don't talk nonsense,” resumed Marie, as she tried to withdraw her hand, which he had taken, blus.h.i.+ng highly at the same time. She had never appeared so pretty in his eyes as at this moment. Bertha's serious face, in proportion as this flirtation increased, lost its attraction in his estimation, the balance of his devotion was all in favour of the animated Marie, who now sat before him in all the bloom of blus.h.i.+ng beauty.
Bertha having slipt out of the room, Marie escaped the tender grasp of Dieterick's hand, and profited by this opportunity to turn the subject of the conversation.
”There she goes,” she said, as she looked after her cousin; ”I would wager she is going to her room to weep again. She cried so violently yesterday, that it has made me also quite melancholy.”
”What is the matter with her?” asked Dieterick, with interest.
”I am as ignorant of the cause of her grief as ever,” answered Marie; ”I have asked her over and over again; but she only shakes her head, as if there was no hope left. 'This unhappy war!' is all she ever gave me for answer.”
”And is old Lichtenstein still determined to take her back to his castle?”
”Certainly,” answered Marie; ”you should have heard how the old man swore yesterday, when the confederates entered! Well, he is devoted to his Duke, heart and soul, so he may go, with all my heart. As soon as war is declared, he intends taking his departure with her.”
Herr Dieterick appeared very thoughtful; he rested his head upon his hand, and listened to his cousin in silence.
”And only think,” she continued, ”yesterday, after the entrance of the leaguists into the town, she wept more than ever. You know she was always serious and melancholy; but as if that circ.u.mstance were to decide the fate of the war, she is now quite disconsolate, I don't believe it is the idea of leaving Ulm that affects her; but I suspect,”
she added, mysteriously, ”she has some secret attachment at heart.”
”Yes, I have long remarked that,” sighed Herr Dieterick; ”but how can I help it?”
”You! how can you help it?” laughed Marie, all signs of sorrow on Bertha's account vanis.h.i.+ng from her face at these words. ”No, indeed, you need not flatter yourself that you are the cause of her suffering.