Part 42 (2/2)
”Do I see you again, my brave lad?” cried Breitenstein, as he took Albert's hand. ”You have played me a pretty trick; your old uncle made me promise, upon my soul, to make something out of you, which would do honour to the League, but you deserted to the enemy, cutting and slas.h.i.+ng at us, and nearly gained the victory yesterday by your hot-brained, desperate attack on our artillery!”
”Every one to his taste,” replied Fronsberg; ”he did honour to his friends, even in the enemy's ranks.”
The knight of Lichtenstein embraced his son. ”He is in safety,” he whispered to him. Their eyes beamed with joy, in having both been instrumental in saving their unhappy Prince. The old knight discovered the green mantle which still hung on the shoulders of his son, and said, in astonishment, a tear of joy starting to his eye, ”Ah, now I understand how everything has come to pa.s.s; they mistook you for the Duke. What would have become of him but for your courage and presence of mind in the critical moment? Your bravery and foresight have achieved more than any of us, and, though we are prisoners, we are still conquerors! Come to my heart, thou most n.o.ble son!”
”And Maxx von Stumpf Schweinsberg!” asked Albert, ”what has become of him? is he a prisoner also?”
”He cut his way through the enemy,--for who could withstand his arm? My old bones are powerless, I am of no more use; but he has joined the Duke, and will be of more a.s.sistance to him than fifty hors.e.m.e.n. But I did not see the fifer,--tell me, how did he come out of the fray?”
”As a hero,” replied Albert, agitated by a feeling of deep regret at the recollection of him; ”he was run through the body by a lance, and his corpse lies on the bridge.”
”Dead!” cried Lichtenstein, and his voice trembled. ”His was indeed a faithful soul,--may it rest in peace! His actions were n.o.ble, and he died true to his master, as all should do.”
Fronsberg now approached them, and interrupted their conversation. ”You appear much cast down,” said he; ”but be of good cheer and consolation, n.o.ble sir! the fortune of war is changeable, and your Duke will, in all probability, once more return to his native country. Who knows if it is not better that we should send him to foreign parts again for a short time? Put by your helmet and armour; your fight at breakfast time will not have spoiled your appet.i.te for mid-day's meal. Seat yourself beside us. About noon I expect the guardian, who is to have charge of you in your confinement; until then, let's be cheerful.”
”That's a proposition we can readily satisfy,” cried Breitenstein.
”Dinner is ready, gentlemen: you and I have not dined together, Albert, since that day in the townhall of Ulm. Come, and we'll make up for lost time.”
Hans von Breitenstein seated himself with Albert next to him; the others followed his example; the servants brought the dinner, and wine made the knight of Lichtenstein and his son forget, for a time, their unfortunate situation of being in the enemy's camp, and the uncertainty of their fate, which, according to Fronsberg's a.s.surance, was to be an imprisonment of long duration. Towards the end of the repast Fronsberg was called away, but he soon returned, and said, with a serious countenance, ”Willingly as I would wish to enjoy your society some time longer, my friends, I am sorry to compel you to break up. The guard is without into whose charge I must deliver you, and I would advise you to lose no time, if you would arrive at the fortress of your confinement before dark.”
”I trust our guard is one of our own rank,--a knight?” asked Lichtenstein, whilst his face a.s.sumed a gloomy, indignant frown. ”I hope proper attention will be paid to our rights, and that we shall have an escort fitting our station.”
”No knight will accompany you,” said Fronsberg, ”but a fitting escort, of which you shall convince yourself.” With these words he raised the curtain of his tent, discovering to the astonished father and son the lovely features of Bertha. She flew into the arms of her enraptured husband. Her venerable father, speechless from joy and surprise, kissed his child on her forehead, and pressed the hand of the honest Fronsberg in token of heartfelt grat.i.tude.
”That is your guardian,” said the latter; ”and the castle of Lichtenstein the place of your confinement. I can see already, in your eyes,” addressing himself to Bertha, ”that you will not be too severe with the young man, and that the old man will not have to complain. But let me advise you, my pretty daughter, to have a watchful eye to your prisoners; don't let them out of the castle, for fear of their rejoining the cause of certain people. Your pretty head will answer for their actions!”
”But, dear sir,” replied Bertha, whilst she drew her beloved closer to her, and smiled playfully at the stern commander, ”recollect he is my head,--so how can I command him?”
”That is just the reason why you should take care not to lose it again.
Bind him fast with the knot of love,--let him not escape, for he easily changes his colours; of which we have had proofs sufficient.”
”I only wore one colour, my fatherly friend!” replied the young man, looking at his beautiful wife, and pointing to the scarf which he wore, ”only one, and to this I remained faithful.”
”Well, then! remain true to it for the future,” said Fronsberg, and gave him his hand to depart. ”Farewell! your horses are before the tent: may you arrive happily at your destination, and think sometimes, in friends.h.i.+p, of old Fronsberg.”
Bertha took leave of this worthy man with tears of grateful thanks in her eyes; the men also were overcome when they took his hand, for they were well aware that, without his kind interference, their fate might have been of a very different stamp. George von Fronsberg followed the happy party with his eye until they turned the corner of the long lane of tents. ”He is in good hands,” said he, as he turned to Breitenstein.
”Truly the blessing of his father rests upon him. Not a better or more beautiful wife, and more honourable son, will be found in all Swabia.”
”Yes, yes!” replied Hans von Breitenstein, ”but he has not to thank his own wits or foresight for it. He who seeks to better his fortune, let him conduct a wife home. I am fifty years old, and still on the look-out for a partner; and you, also, Dieterich von Kraft, are you not upon the same scent?”
”Not at all,--quite the contrary,--I am already provided,” he replied, as if awoke out of a dream; ”when one sees such a couple, we know what is next to be done. I am going to put myself, this very hour, into my sedan, on my journey to Ulm, there to conduct my cousin Marie to my home. Farewell, my friends!”
When the Swabian League had reconquered Wurtemberg, they re-established their government, and reigned over the whole country, as in the summer of 1519. The partisans of the exiled Duke were compelled to swear neutrality, and were banished to their respective castles. Albert von Sturmfeder and his family were included in this mild destiny, living retired on the Lichtenstein; and a new life of peaceable domestic happiness fell to the lot of the loving couple.
Often when they stood at the window of the castle, overlooking Wurtemberg's beautiful fields, they would think of their unfortunate Prince, who also once viewed his country from the same spot. It reminded them of the chain of events of their own history, and of the extraordinary means by which their union had been brought about; and which they did not fail to acknowledge, would perhaps not have happened so soon, had their fate been otherwise ordained. But they felt the joy of their existence incomplete when they thought of the founder of their happiness, living in the misery of banishment far from his country.
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