My Lady Rotha: A Romance

The sudden change from the warm noisy kitchen to the cold night air sobered me in a moment. As I climbed the dark slippery street which rises to the foot of the castle steps, I began to wish that I had let the matter be. After all, what call had I to interfere, and make bad blood between myself and my neighbours? It was no business of mine. The three were Romanists. Doubtless the man had robbed and hectored in his time, and while his hand was strong; and now he suffered as others had suffered.

It was ten chances to one the Burgomaster would carry the matter to my lady in some shape or other, and the minister would back him up, and I should be reprimanded; or if the Countess saw with my eyes, and sent them off with a flea in their ears, then we should have all the rabble of the town who were at Klink's beck and call, going up and down making mischief, and crying, 'No Popery!' Either way I foresaw trouble, and wished that I had let the matter be, or better still had kept away that night from the Red Hart.

But then on a sudden there rose before me, as plainly as if I had still been looking through the window, a vision of the half-lit room looking on the lane, with the sick man on the pallet, and the slender figure kneeling beside the bed. I saw the cat leap, saw again the girl's frightened gesture as she turned towards the door, and I grew almost as hot as I had been in the kitchen. 'The cowards!' I muttered-'the cowards! But I will be beforehand with them. I will go to my lady early and tell her all.'

You see I had my misgivings, but I little thought what that evening was really to bring forth, or that I had done that in the Red Hart kitchen which would alter all my life, and all my lady's life; and spreading still, as a little crack in ice will spread from bank to bank, would leave scarce a man in Heritzburg unchanged, and scarce a woman's fate untouched.

CHAPTER II.

THE COUNTESS ROTHA

My Lady Rotha, Countess of Heritzburg in her own right, was at this time twenty-five years old and unmarried. Her maiden state, which seems to call for explanation, I attribute to two things. Partly to the influence of her friend and companion Fraulein Anna Max of Utrecht, who was reputed in the castle to know seven languages, and to consider marriage a sacrifice; and partly to the Countess's own disposition, which led her to set a high value on the power and possessions that had descended to her from her father. Count Tilly's protection, which had exempted Heritzburg from the evils of the war, had rendered the support of a husband less necessary; and so she had been left to follow her own will in the matter, and was now little likely to surrender her independence unless her heart went with the gift.

Not that suitors were lacking, for my lady, besides her wealth, was possessed of the handsomest figure in the world, with beautiful features, and the most gracious and winning address ever known. I remember as if it were yesterday Prince Albert of Rammingen, a great match but an old man. He came in his chariot with a numerous retinue, and stayed long, taking it very hardly that my lady was not to be won; but after a while he went. His place was taken by Count Frederick, a brother of the Margrave of Anspach, a young gentleman who had received his education in France, and was full of airs and graces, going sober to bed every night, and speaking German with a French accent. Him my lady soon sent about his business. The next was a more famous man, Count Thurn of Bohemia, he who began the war by throwing Slawata and Martinitz out of window in Prague, in '19, and paid for it by fifteen years of exile. He wore such an air of mystery, and had such tales to tell of flight and battle and hairbreadth escapes, that he was scarcely less an object of curiosity in the town than Tilly himself; but he knelt in vain. And in fine so it was with them all. My lady would have none of them, but kept her maiden state and governed Heritzburg and saw the years go by, content to all appearance with Fraulein Anna and her talk, which was all of Voetius and Beza and scores of other learned men, whose names I could never remember from one hour to another.

It was my duty to wait upon her every day after morning service, and receive her orders, and inform her of anything which I thought she ought to know. At that hour she was to be found in her parlour, a long room on the first floor of the castle, lighted by three deeply-recessed windows and hung with old tapestry worked by her great-grandmother in the dark days of the Emperor Charles, when the Count of Heritzburg shared the imprisonment of the good Landgrave of Hesse. A screen stood a little way within the door, and behind this it was my business to wait, until I was called.

On this morning, however, I had no patience to wait, and I made myself so objectionable by my constant coughing that at last she cried, with a cheerful laugh, 'What is it, Martin? Come and tell me. Has there been a fire in the forest? But it is not the right time of year for that.'

'No, my lady,' I said, going forward. Then out of shyness or sheer contradictoriness I found myself giving her the usual report of this and that and the other, but never a word of what was in my mind. She sat, according to her custom in summer, in the recess of the farthest window, while Fraulein Anna occupied a stool placed before a reading-desk. Behind the two the great window gave upon the valley. By merely turning the head either of them could look over the red roofs of Heritzburg to the green plain, which here was tolerably wide, and beyond that again to the dark line of forest, which in spring and autumn showed as blue to the eye as thick wood smoke.

While I spoke my lady toyed with a book she had been reading, and Fraulein Anna turned over the pages on the desk with an impatient hand, sometimes looking at my lady and sometimes tapping with her foot on the floor. She was plump and fair and short, dressing plainly, and always looking into the distance; whether because she thought much and on deep matters, or because, as the Countess's woman once told me, she could see nothing beyond the length of her arm, I cannot say. When I had finished my report, and paused, she looked up at my lady and said, 'Now, Rotha, are you ready?'

'Not quite, Anna,' my lady answered, smiling. 'Martin has not done yet.'

'He tells in ten minutes what another would in five,' Fraulein said crossly. 'But to finish?'

'Yes, Martin, what is it?' my lady assented. 'We have eaten all the pastry. The meat I am sure is yet to come.'

I saw that there was nothing else for it, and after all it was what I had come to do. 'Your excellency knows the Bavarian soldier and his daughter, who have been lodging these six months past at the Red Hart?' I said.

'To be sure.'

'Klink talks of turning them out,' I continued, feeling my face grow red I scarcely knew why.

'Is their money at an end?' the Countess asked shrewdly. She was a great woman of business.

'No,' I answered, 'but I dare say it is low.'

'Then what is the matter?' my lady continued, looking at me somewhat curiously.

'He says that they are Papists,' I answered. 'And it is true, as your excellency knows, but it is not for him to say it. The man will not be safe for an hour outside the walls, nor the girl much longer. And there is a small child besides. And they have no where else to go.'

My lady's face grew grave while I spoke. When I stopped she rose and stood fronting me, tapping on the reading-desk with her fingers. 'This must not be allowed, Martin,' she said firmly. 'You were right to tell me.'

'Master Hofman and the Minister-'

'Yes,' she interposed, nodding quickly. 'Go to them. They will see Klink, and-'

'They are just pushing him on,' I said, with a groan.

'What!' she cried; and I remember to this day how her grey eyes flashed and how she threw back her head in generous amazement. 'Do you mean to say that this is being done in spite, Martin? That after escaping all the perils of this wretched war these men are so thankless as to turn on the first scape-goat that falls into their hands? It is not possible!'

'It looks like it, my lady,' I muttered, wondering whether I had not perhaps carried the matter too far.

'No, no,' she said, shaking her head, 'you must have made a mistake; but go to Klink. Go to Klink and tell him from me to keep the man for a week at least. I will be answerable for the cost, and we can consider in the meantime what to do. My cousin the Waldgrave Rupert visits me in a day or two, and I will consult him.'

Still I did not like to go without giving her a hint that she might meet with opposition, and I hesitated, considering how I might warn her without causing needless alarm or seeming to presume. Fraulein Anna, who had listened throughout with the greatest impatience, took advantage of the pause to interfere. 'Come, Rotha,' she said. 'Enough trifling. Let us go back to Voetius and our day's work.'

'My dear,' the Countess answered somewhat coldly, 'this is my day's work. I am trying to do it.'

'Your work is to improve and store your mind,' Fraulein Anna retorted with peevishness.

'True,' my lady said quietly; 'but for a purpose.'

'There can be no purpose higher than the acquirement of philosophy-and, religion,' Fraulein Anna said. Her last words sounded like an afterthought.

My lady shook her head. 'The duty of a Princess is to govern,' she said.

'How can she govern unless she has prepared her mind by study and thought?' Fraulein Anna asked triumphantly.

'I agree within limits,' my lady answered. 'But-'

'There is no but! Nor are there any limits that I see!' the other rejoined eagerly. 'Let me read to you out of Voetius himself. In his maxims-'

'Not this minute,' the Countess answered firmly. And thereby she interrupted not Fraulein Anna alone but a calculation on which, without any light from Voetius, I was engaged; namely, how long it would take a man to mow an acre of ground if he spent all his time in sharpening his scythe! Low matters of that kind however have nothing in common with philosophy I suppose; and my lady's voice soon brought me back to the point. 'What is it you want to say, Martin?' she asked. 'I see that you have something still on your mind.'

'I wish your excellency to be aware that there may be a good deal of feeling in the town on this matter,' I said.

'You mean that I may make myself unpopular,' she answered.

That was what I did mean-that at the least. And I bowed.

My lady shook her head with a grave smile. 'I might give you an answer from Voetius, Martin,' she said; 'that they who govern are created to protect the weak against the strong. And if not, cui bono? But that, you may not understand. Shall I say then instead that I, and not Hofman or Dietz, am Countess of Heritzburg.'

'My lady,' I cried-and I could have knelt before her-'that is answer enough for me!'

'Then go,' she said, her face bright, 'and do as I told you.'

She turned away, and I made my reverence and went out and down the stairs and through the great court with my head high and my heart high also. I might not understand Voetius; but I understood that my lady was one, who in face of all and in spite of all, come Hofman or Dietz, come peace or war, would not blench, but stand by the right! And it did me good. He is a bad horse that will not jump when his rider's heart is right, and a bad servant that will not follow when his master goes before! I hummed a tune, I rattled my staff on the stones. I said to myself it was a thousand pities so gallant a spirit should be wasted on a woman: and then again I fancied that I could not have served a man as I knew I could and would serve her should time and the call ever put me to the test.

The castle at Heritzburg, rising abruptly above the roofs of the houses, is accessible from the town by a flight of steps cut in the rock. On the other three sides the knob on which it stands is separated from the wooded hills to which it belongs by a narrow ravine, crossed in one place by a light horse-bridge made in modern days. This forms the chief entrance to the castle, but the road which leads to it from the town goes so far round that it is seldom used, the flight of steps I have mentioned leading at once and more conveniently from the end of the High Street. Half way down the High Street on the right hand side is the Market-place, a small paved square, shaded by tall wooden houses, and having a carved stone pump in the middle. A hundred paces beyond this on the same side is the Red Hart, standing just within the West Gate.

From one end of the town to the other is scarcely a step, and I was at the inn before the Countess's voice had ceased to sound in my ears. The door stood open, and I went in, expecting to find the kitchen empty or nearly so at that hour of the day. To my surprise, I found at least a dozen people in it, with as much noise and excitement going forward as if the yearly fair had been in progress. For a moment I was not observed. I had time to see who were present-Klink, the two soldiers who had put themselves forward the evening before, and half a score of idlers. Then the landlord's eye fell on me and he passed the word. A sudden silence followed and a dozen faces turned my way; so that the room, which was low in the roof with wide beetle-browed windows, seemed to lighten.

'Just in time, Master Schwartz!' cried one fellow. 'You, can write, and we are about a petition! Perhaps you will draw it up for us.'

'A petition,' I said shortly, eyeing the fellow with contempt. 'What petition?'