The Dove in the Eagle's Nest [29]
languor and sinking instead of recovery.
Then it was that Sir Eberhard first really listened to her entreaty that she might not die without a priest, and comforted her by passing his word to her that, if--he would not say when--the time drew near, he would bring her one of the priests who had only come from St. Ruprecht's cloister on great days, by a sort of sufferance, to say mass at the Blessed Friedmund's hermitage chapel.
The time was slow in coming. Easter had passed with Ermentrude far too ill for Christina to make the effort she had intended of going to the church, even if she could get no escort but old Ursel--the sheet of snow had dwindled to a mere wreath--the ford looked blue in the sunshine--the cascade tinkled merrily down its rock--mountain primroses peeped out, when, as Father Norbert came forth from saying his ill-attended Pentecostal mass, and was parting with the infirm peasant hermit, a tall figure strode up the pass, and, as the villagers fell back to make way, stood before the startled priest, and said, in a voice choked with grief, "Come with me."
"Who needs me?" began the astonished monk.
"Follow him not, father!" whispered the hermit. "It is the young Freiherr.--Oh have mercy on him, gracious sir; he has done your noble lordships no wrong."
"I mean him no ill," replied Eberhard, clearing his voice with difficulty; "I would but have him do his office. Art thou afraid, priest?"
"Who needs my office?" demanded Father Norbert. "Show me fit cause, and what should I dread? Wherefore dost thou seek me?"
"For my sister," replied Eberhard, his voice thickening again. "My little sister lies at the point of death, and I have sworn to her that a priest she shall have. Wilt thou come, or shall I drag thee down the pass?"
"I come, I come with all my heart, sir knight," was the ready response. "A few moments and I am at your bidding."
He stepped back into the hermit's cave, whence a stair led up to the chapel. The anchorite followed him, whispering--"Good father, escape! There will be full time ere he misses you. The north door leads to the Gemsbock's Pass; it is open now."
"Why should I baulk him? Why should I deny my office to the dying?" said Norbert.
"Alas! holy father, thou art new to this country, and know'st not these men of blood! It is a snare to make the convent ransom thee, if not worse. The Freiherrinn is a fiend for malice, and the Freiherr is excommunicate."
"I know it, my son," said Norbert; "but wherefore should their child perish unassoilzied?"
"Art coming, priest?" shouted Eberhard, from his stand at the mouth of the cave.
And, as Norbert at once appeared with the pyx and other appliances that he had gone to fetch, the Freiherr held out his hand with an offer to "carry his gear for him;" and, when the monk refused, with an inward shudder at entrusting a sacred charge to such unhallowed hands, replied, "You will have work enow for both hands ere the castle is reached."
But Father Norbert was by birth a sturdy Switzer, and thought little of these Swabian Alps; and he climbed after his guide through the most rugged passages of Eberhard's shortest and most perpendicular cut without a moment's hesitation, and with agility worthy of a chamois. The young baron turned for a moment, when the level of the castle had been gained, perhaps to see whether he were following, but at the same time came to a sudden, speechless pause.
On the white masses of vapour that floated on the opposite side of the mountain was traced a gigantic shadowy outline of a hermit, with head bent eagerly forward, and arm outstretched.
The monk crossed himself. Eberhard stood still for a moment, and then said, hoarsely,--"The Blessed Friedmund! He is come for her;" then strode on towards the postern gate, followed by Brother Norbert, a good deal reassured both as to the genuineness of the young Baron's message and the probable condition of the object of his journey, since the patron saint of her race was evidently on the watch to speed her departing spirit.
Sir Eberhard
Then it was that Sir Eberhard first really listened to her entreaty that she might not die without a priest, and comforted her by passing his word to her that, if--he would not say when--the time drew near, he would bring her one of the priests who had only come from St. Ruprecht's cloister on great days, by a sort of sufferance, to say mass at the Blessed Friedmund's hermitage chapel.
The time was slow in coming. Easter had passed with Ermentrude far too ill for Christina to make the effort she had intended of going to the church, even if she could get no escort but old Ursel--the sheet of snow had dwindled to a mere wreath--the ford looked blue in the sunshine--the cascade tinkled merrily down its rock--mountain primroses peeped out, when, as Father Norbert came forth from saying his ill-attended Pentecostal mass, and was parting with the infirm peasant hermit, a tall figure strode up the pass, and, as the villagers fell back to make way, stood before the startled priest, and said, in a voice choked with grief, "Come with me."
"Who needs me?" began the astonished monk.
"Follow him not, father!" whispered the hermit. "It is the young Freiherr.--Oh have mercy on him, gracious sir; he has done your noble lordships no wrong."
"I mean him no ill," replied Eberhard, clearing his voice with difficulty; "I would but have him do his office. Art thou afraid, priest?"
"Who needs my office?" demanded Father Norbert. "Show me fit cause, and what should I dread? Wherefore dost thou seek me?"
"For my sister," replied Eberhard, his voice thickening again. "My little sister lies at the point of death, and I have sworn to her that a priest she shall have. Wilt thou come, or shall I drag thee down the pass?"
"I come, I come with all my heart, sir knight," was the ready response. "A few moments and I am at your bidding."
He stepped back into the hermit's cave, whence a stair led up to the chapel. The anchorite followed him, whispering--"Good father, escape! There will be full time ere he misses you. The north door leads to the Gemsbock's Pass; it is open now."
"Why should I baulk him? Why should I deny my office to the dying?" said Norbert.
"Alas! holy father, thou art new to this country, and know'st not these men of blood! It is a snare to make the convent ransom thee, if not worse. The Freiherrinn is a fiend for malice, and the Freiherr is excommunicate."
"I know it, my son," said Norbert; "but wherefore should their child perish unassoilzied?"
"Art coming, priest?" shouted Eberhard, from his stand at the mouth of the cave.
And, as Norbert at once appeared with the pyx and other appliances that he had gone to fetch, the Freiherr held out his hand with an offer to "carry his gear for him;" and, when the monk refused, with an inward shudder at entrusting a sacred charge to such unhallowed hands, replied, "You will have work enow for both hands ere the castle is reached."
But Father Norbert was by birth a sturdy Switzer, and thought little of these Swabian Alps; and he climbed after his guide through the most rugged passages of Eberhard's shortest and most perpendicular cut without a moment's hesitation, and with agility worthy of a chamois. The young baron turned for a moment, when the level of the castle had been gained, perhaps to see whether he were following, but at the same time came to a sudden, speechless pause.
On the white masses of vapour that floated on the opposite side of the mountain was traced a gigantic shadowy outline of a hermit, with head bent eagerly forward, and arm outstretched.
The monk crossed himself. Eberhard stood still for a moment, and then said, hoarsely,--"The Blessed Friedmund! He is come for her;" then strode on towards the postern gate, followed by Brother Norbert, a good deal reassured both as to the genuineness of the young Baron's message and the probable condition of the object of his journey, since the patron saint of her race was evidently on the watch to speed her departing spirit.
Sir Eberhard