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Read books online » Fiction » Red Axe by Samuel Rutherford Crockett (best android ereader .TXT) 📖

Book online «Red Axe by Samuel Rutherford Crockett (best android ereader .TXT) 📖». Author Samuel Rutherford Crockett



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set instances to them, and never breathe myself.
"Nay," said the Prince, "all is safe set within and without, thanks to my brave commander and wise Chancellor, and these other matters can e'en bide till I go back to them. Consider that I am but a captain of horse going a-wooing and needing to talk gayly for good comradeship by the road. Call me honest Captain Miller's Son."
So Captain Miller's Son rode with Herr Doctor Schmidt and his servant Johann. And a merry time the three of us had till we arrived at the borders of the Mark.
Now I have not time nor yet space (though a great deal of inclination) to tell of the wondrous pranks we played--of the broad-haunched countrywomen we rallied (or rather whom Captain Miller's Son rallied, and who, truth to tell, mostly gave as good as they got, or better, to that soldier's huge delight), the stout yeoman families into whose midst we went, and their opinion of the Prince. Of the last I have a good tale to tell. "A good man and a kindly," so the man said; "he has given us safe horse, fat cow, and a quiet life. But yet the old was good too. The true race to reign is ever the anointed Prince."
"But then, did not Dietrich, the anointed Prince, harry you? And worse, let others plunder you? And that is not the fashion of Prince Karl, usurper though he be!" said the Prince.
"Nay," the honest man would reply, "usurper is he not--a God-sent boon to Plassenburg rather. We love him, would fight for him, all my six sons and I. Would we not, chickens?"
And the six sons rolled out a thunderous "Aye, fight--marry, that we would!" as they sat, plaiting willow-baskets and mending bows about the fire.
"But, alas! he is cursed with a mad wife, and, after all said and done, he is not of the ancient stock," said the ancient man, shaking his head.
And the Prince answered him as quickly, tapping his brow significantly with his forefinger, "Are not all wives a little touched? Or are yon passing fortunate in your part of the country? Faith, we of the city will all come courting to the Tannenwald if you prove better off."
"We are even as our neighbors!" cried the yeoman, shrugging his shoulders. "Maul, my troth, what sayest thou? Here is a brisk lad that miscalls thy clan."
The goodwife came forward, smiling, comely, and large of well-padded bone.
"Which?" said she, laconically.
The farmer pointed to the Prince. The matron took a good look at him.
"Well," she said, "he is the one that should know most about us. He has been married once or twice, and hath gotten certain things burned into him. As for this one," she went on, indicating Dessauer, "he may be doctor of all the wisdoms, as ye say, but he has never compassed the mystery of a woman. And this limber young spark with the quick eyes, he is a bachelor also, but ardently desires to be otherwise. I wot he has a pretty lass waiting for him somewhere."
"How knew you that of me, goodwife ?" I cried, greatly astonished.
"Why, by the way you looked up when my daughter came dancing in. You were in your lost brown-study, and then, seeing a pretty lass that most are glad to rest their eyes upon, you looked away disappointed or careless."
"And how knew you that I was of the ancient guild of the bachelors?" asked Dessauer.
"Why, by the way that you looked at the pot on the fire, and sniffed up the stew, and asked how long the dinner would be! The bachelor of years is ever uneasy about his meals, having little else to be uneasy about, and no wife, compact of all contrary whimsies, to teach him how to be patient."
"And how," cried the Prince, in his turn, "knew you that I had been wedded once?"
"Or twice," said the woman, smiling. "Man, ye cackle it like a hen on the rafters advertising her egg in the manger below. I knew it by the fashion ye had of hanging up your hat and eke scraping your feet---not after ye entered, like these other good, careless gentlemen, but with your knife, outside the door. I see it by your air of one that has been at once under authority and yet master of a house."
"Well done, good wife!" cried the Prince. "Were I indeed in authority I would make you either Prime-Minister or chief of my thief-catchers."
And so after that we went to bed.


CHAPTER XXXVIII
THE BLACK RIDERS
The next day we jogged along, and many were our advices and admonitions to the Prince to return. For we were now on the borders of his kingdom, and from indications which met us on the journeying we knew that the Black Riders were abroad. For in one place we came to a burned cottage and the tracks of driven cattle; in another upon a dead forest guard, with his green coat all splashed in splotches of dark crimson, a sight which made the Prince clinch his hands and swear. And this also kept him pretty silent for the rest of the day.
It was about evening of this second day, and we had come to the top of a little swell of hills, when suddenly beneath us we heard the crackling of timbers and saw the pale, almost invisible flames beginning to devour a thriving farm-house at our feet. There were swarms of men in dark armor about it, running here and there, clapping straw and brushwood to hay-ricks and byre doors.
"The Black Riders of Duke Casimir," I cried; "down among the bushes and let them not see us! We must go back. If they so much as suspected the Prince they would slay us every one."
But ere we had time to flee half a dozen of their scouts came near us, and, observing our horses and excellent accoutrement, they raised a cry. There was nothing for it but the spurs on the heels of our boots. So across the smooth, well-turfed country we had it, and in spite of our beasts' weariness we made good running. And while we fled I considered how best to serve the Prince.
"There is a monastery near by," said I, "and the head thereof is a good friend of ours. Let us, if possible, gain that shelter, and cast ourselves on the kindness of the good Abbot Tobias."
"Aye," said the Prince, urging his horse to speed, "but will we ever get there?"
Then I called myself all the stupid-heads in the world, because I had not refused to go a foot with the Prince on such a mad venture, and so put our future and that of the Princedom of Plassenburg in such peril.
But there at last were the gray walls and high towers of the Abbey of Wolgast. Our pursuers were not yet in sight, so we rode in at the gate and cast our bridles to a lay brother of the order, crying imperiously for instant audience of the Abbot.
As soon as my friend Tobias saw us he threw up his hands in a rapture of welcome. But I soon had him advertised of our great danger. Whereupon he went directly to the window of his chamber of reception and looked out on the court-yard.
"Ring the abbey bell for full service," he commanded; "throw open the outer gates and great doors, and lead these horses to the secret crypt beneath the mortuary chapel."
For the Abbot Tobias was a man of the readiest resource, and in other circumstances would have made a good soldier.
He hurried us off to the robing-rooms, and made us put on monastic and priestly garments over our several apparels. Never, Got wot, had I expected that I should be transformed into a rope-girt praying clerk. But so it was. I was given a square black cap and a brown robe, and sent to join the lay brethren. For my hair grew thick as a mat on top and there was no time to tonsure it.
Now, Dessauer being bald and quite practicable as to his topknot, they endued him with the full dress of a monk. But at that time I saw not what was done with the Prince. For my conductor, a laughing, frolicsome lad, came for me and carried me off all in good faith, telling me the while that he hoped we should lodge together. There were, he whispered, certain very fair and pleasant-spoken maids just over the wall, that which you could climb easily enough by the branches of the pear-tree that grew contiguous at the south corner.
As we hurried towards the chapel, the monks were streaming out of their cells in great consternation, grumbling like soldiers at an unexpected parade.
"What hath gotten into our old man?" said one. "Hath he overeaten at mid-day refection, and so is not able to sleep, that he cannot let honest men enjoy greater peace than himself?"
"What folly!" cried another; "as if we had not prayers enough, without cheating the Almighty by knocking him up at uncanonical hours!"
"And the choir summoned, and full choral service, no less! Not even a respectable saint's day--no true churchman indeed, but some heretic of a Greek fellow!" quoth a third.
Nevertheless, obediently enough they made their way as the bell clanged, and the throng filed into their places most reverently. It was a pleasant sight. I came into rank unobtrusively at the back, among the rustling and nudging lay brethren. In other circumstances it would have amused me to see the grave faces they turned towards the altar, and to hear all the while the confused scuffling as they trod on each other's toes, trying whose skin was the tenderest or whose sandal soles were the thickest. One or two even tried conclusions with me, but once only. For the first who adventured got a stamp from my riding-boot which caused him to squeal out like a stuck pig, and but for the waking thunder of the organ might have gotten him a month's penance in addition. So after that my toes were left severely alone among the lay brethren.
Then came the high procession, at which the monks and all stood up. In front there were the incense-bearers and acolytes, then officers whose names, not being convent-bred nor yet greatly given to church-craft, I did not know. Then after them came two men who walked together, at the sight of whom the' jaws of all the monks dropped, and they stood so infinitely astonished that no power was left in them. For, instead of one, two mitred abbots entered in full canonical attire--golden mitre and green, golden-headed staff, red embroidered robes lined with green. These two paced solemnly in abreast, and sat down upon twin thrones.
"The Abbot of St. Omer!" whispered one of the lay brothers, naming one of the most famous abbeys in Europe, and the word flew round like lightning. Whether he had been instructed or not what to say I do not know. But at all events I saw the tidings run round the circle of the choir, overleap the boundary stall, and even reach the officiating priests, who inclined an eager ear to catch it, and passed the word one to another in the intervals of the chanted sentences.
Then the news was drowned in the thunder of the anthem, and the organ dominating all. Everything was strange to me, but most strange the practice of the lay brothers, who chanted bravely indeed in tune, but who (for the words set in the chorals) substituted other sentiments of a kind not usually found in service-books.
"He looks a stout and be-e-e-fy o-o-old fel-low, this A-a-a-bot of St. Omer,
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