Part 4 (2/2)

She was in this state long before you ever saw her.”

The worthy secretary was very much put out by this a.s.surance. He thought in his heart that a farewell from him was the real cause of Bertha's state, and her care-worn countenance at this moment almost regained the preponderance in his changeable heart. Marie went on to deride his conceitedness, when all of a sudden he recollected the main object of his visit, which he had lost sight of during the conversation. Marie sprang up with a scream of joy, as her cousin imparted to her the news of the ball.

”Bertha, Bertha!” she cried out, at the height of her voice, so that her cousin, startled, and fearing lest some accident had happened, hastened to her a.s.sistance. But before she had scarcely had time to enter the room, Marie said again, ”Bertha, a ball at the town-hall this evening!”

This news was a happy surprise to her also. ”When? are the strangers invited also?” were her rapid questions, whilst a deep red covered her cheeks, and a ray of joy shot from her sorrowful eyes, scarcely able to contain their tears.

Marie and her cousin Kraft were both astonished at Bertha's rapid change from depression of spirits to sudden joy, and Dieterick could not help remarking, that he supposed she must be pa.s.sionately fond of dancing. But he was equally mistaken in this instance, as he was when he mistook Albert von Sturmfeder for a connoisseur of wine.

Herr Kraft, supposing his cousins would now wish to occupy themselves with the important preparation of dress, rather than listen to anything else he might have to say, took his departure, to fulfil the rest of his weighty duties. He hastened to give the requisite orders, and to invite, in person, the princ.i.p.al guests, and higher families. He was received everywhere as the messenger of good news; for tradition says, that the pleasure of dancing is not the pa.s.sion of the present day only.

His arrangements were soon accomplished. In those days, in order to be merry and cheerful, it was not absolutely necessary there should be a long suite of apartments, lighted up with flaming chandeliers, and furnished with numerous unmeaning things, which enc.u.mber the fas.h.i.+onable apartments of the present age. All was simple. The room in the town-hall was, from its size, well adapted for the purpose, and the humble rude-shaped lamps which hung on the walls, had, up to that time, thrown out light enough to show off the dresses and illumine the pretty faces of the maidens of Ulm.

But not only had the arrangements of the active scribe succeeded in everything he had undertaken on this important occasion; he had also in the course of his visits learned some secret intelligence which had been confided solely to the committee of the council, and the princ.i.p.al officers of the League.

Satisfied with the result of his various avocations, he returned home at noon, when his first step was to inquire after his guest.

Albert had been employed, during the absence of his host, in looking over a beautifully-written book of chronicles, which he found in his room. The neat painted figures which formed the first letter of the chapters, the pictures of fields of battle, and triumphal entries of victorious troops, delineated with a bold outline, and painted with peculiar care and labour, and which were dispersed throughout the volume, had amused him for some time. His mind being full of the warlike figures he had been examining, induced him to think of his own weapons, and of polis.h.i.+ng his helmet, armour, and the sword which he had inherited from his father. He accordingly set to work, at the same time singing sometimes a cheerful, sometimes a serious song, to the great annoyance of the unmusical organs of Frau Sabina.

Dieterick heard the sounds of his agreeable voice as he walked up stairs, and he could not resist listening at the door until he had finished his song. It was one of those touching strains, bordering almost on the melancholy, which has been brought down to our times, and is to be heard even now in the mouth of the Swabians. Often and with pleasure have we listened to those strains on the charming banks of the Neckar, struck with the beautiful simplicity and lengthened sound of their harmony.

Albert went on singing:

Swift as thought All our pleasures come to nought!

The charger yesterday he press'd, To-day the death-shot pierced his breast, To-morrow opes the chilly grave.

Such the measure Of all earthly bliss and pleasure!

In that comely cheek of thine, The lily and the rose combine; But rose and lily fade and die.

Then resigned To G.o.d's will, I yield my mind: Should the trumpet sound a call, Should it be my fate to fall, Say ”A gallant soldier's gone.”

”Really you have a fine voice,” said his host, as he entered the apartment; ”but why sing such melancholy songs? I prefer a merry and cheerful one, such as a young fellow of twenty-eight ought to sing.”

Albert put his sword aside, and gave his hand to his friend. ”Every one to his taste,” said he, ”but I think that to those whose occupation is war, and whose life is in constant jeopardy, a song which carries consolation and encouragement to the heart of the soldier, gives death a milder aspect.”

”That's just what I mean, also,” said Dieterick; ”but what is the use of being melancholy upon a subject which is certainly the lot of all?

'If you paint the devil on the wall, he will surely appear,' says the proverb; however, that saying does not hold good as the case now stands.”

”How? is not war decided,” asked Albert, with curiosity; ”has the Wurtemberger accepted conditions?”

”Conditions? none will be made with him,” answered the secretary, with an air of contempt; ”he has lived his longest day as Duke; it is our turn now to govern. I will let you into a secret,” added he, looking big with importance and mystery, ”but it must be strictly between us.

Your hand! You think the Duke has fourteen thousand Swiss with him?

They are scattered to the winds. The messenger we despatched to Zurich and Bern has returned. All the Swiss at Blaubeuren and on the Alb will be obliged to return home immediately.”

”Return home?” said Albert, with astonishment, ”and for what purpose?

Are they at war themselves in their own country?”

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