Part 13 (2/2)
?Gerbert,? he said, ?I am not going to put the cruel order into execution. Though I lose friends.h.i.+p, the honour of our order, life itself, the son of Guba von Isenburg shall not suffer at my hands.
I sympathize with thy pa.s.sion for the fair Ida. I myself loved thy mother.? The impetuous Gerbert started to his feet, hand on sword, at the mention of his mother, whose good name he set before all else; but with a dignified gesture the prior motioned him to his seat.
Then in terse, pa.s.sionate phrases the elder man told how he had loved the gentle Guba for years, always hesitating to declare his pa.s.sion lest the lady should scorn him. At length he could bear it no longer, and made up his mind to reveal his love to her. With this intent he rode toward her home, only to learn from a pa.s.sing page that Guba, his mistress, was to be married that very day to von Isenburg. He gave to the page a ring, bidding him carry it to his mistress with the message that it was from one who loved her greatly, and who for her sake renounced the world. ?The ring,? he concluded, ?is on thy finger, and in thy face and voice are thy mother?s likeness. Canst thou wonder that I would spare thy life??
Gerbert listened in respectful silence. His love for Ida enabled him to sympathize with the pathetic tale unfolded by the prior. Tears fell unchecked from the eyes of both. ?And now,? said the prior at last, ?we must look to thy safety.?
?I would not bring misfortune on thee,? said Gerbert. ?May I not go to Palestine and win my way through with my sword??
?It is impossible,? said the elder man. ?Von Metternich would see to it that thou wert slain. Thou must go to Swabia, where a prior of our order will look after thy safety in the meantime.?
The same day Gerbert was conveyed to Swabia, where, for a time at least, he was safe from persecution.
The Dance of Death
In the nunnery of Oberworth, on a pallet in a humble cell, Ida lay dying. A year had gone past since she had been separated from her lover, and every day had seen her grow weaker and more despondent. Forget Gerbert? That would she never while life remained to her. Wearily she tossed on her pallet, her only companion a sister of the convent.
Willingly now would the Freiherr give his dearest possessions to save his daughter, but already she was beyond a.s.sistance, her only hope the peace of the grave.
?I am dying, sister,? she said to her attendant. ?Nevermore shall I see my dear Gerbert?ah! nevermore.?
?Hush,? murmured the nun gently, ?stranger things have happened. All may yet be well.? And to divert the dying maid?s attention from her grief she recited tales of lovers who had been reunited after many difficulties.
But Ida refused to be pacified.
?Alas!? she said, ?I am betrothed, yet I must die unwed.?
?Heaven forbid!? cried the pious nun in alarm. ?For then must thou join in the dance of death.?
It was a popular belief in that district that a betrothed maiden who died before her wedding was celebrated must, after her death, dance on a spot in the centre of the island whereon no gra.s.s or herb ever grew?that is, unless in the interval she took the veil. Every night at twelve o?clock a band of such hapless maidens may be seen dancing in the moonlight, doomed to continue their nocturnal revels till they meet with a lover. And woe betide the knight who ventures within their reach! They dance round and round him and with him till he falls dead, whereupon the youngest maid claims him for her lover. Henceforth she rests quietly in her grave and joins no more in the ghostly frolic.
This weird tradition Ida now heard from the lips of the nun, who herself claimed to have witnessed the scenes she described.
?I beseech thee,? said the sister, ?do but join our convent, and all will yet be well.?
?I die,? murmured Ida, heeding not the words of her companion.
?Gerbert?we shall meet again!?
Gerbert, her lover, heard the sad news in his dwelling-place on the sh.o.r.es of Lake Constance, and returned to Oberworth with all speed. A week had elapsed ere he arrived, and Ida?s body was already interred in the vaults of the convent.
It was a night of storm and darkness. No boatman would venture on the Rhine, but Gerbert, anxious to pay the last respects to the body of his beloved, was not to be deterred. With his own hands he unmoored a vessel and sailed across to Oberworth. Having landed at that part of the island furthest from the convent, he was obliged to pa.s.s the haunted spot on his way thither. The circular patch of barren earth was said to be a spot accursed, by reason of sacrilege and suicide committed there. But such things were far from the thoughts of the distraught knight.
Suddenly he heard a strange sound, like the whisper of a familiar voice?a sound which, despite its quietness, seemed to make itself heard above the fury of the storm. Looking up, he beheld a band of white-robed maidens dancing in the charmed circle. One of them, a little apart from the others, seemed to him to be his lost Ida. The familiar figure, the grace of mien, the very gesture with which she beckoned him, were hers, and he rushed forward to clasp her to his heart. Adroitly she eluded his grasp and mingled with the throng. Gerbert followed with bursting heart, seized her in his arms, and found that the other phantoms had surrounded them. Something in the unearthly music fascinated him; he felt impelled to dance round and round, till his head reeled. And still he danced with his phantom bride, and still the maidens whirled about them. On the stroke of one the dancers vanished and the knight sank to the ground, all but dead with fatigue. In the morning he was found by the kindly nuns, who tended him carefully. But all their skill and attention were in vain; for Gerbert lived only long enough to tell of his adventure to the sisterhood. This done, he expired with the name of his beloved spirit-bride upon his lips.
Stolzenfels: The Alchemist
Alchemy was a common pursuit in the Middle Ages. The poor followed it eagerly in the vain desire for gold; the rich spent their wealth in useless experiments, or showered it on worthless charlatans.
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