Part 3 (1/2)
”Albert von Sturmfeder,” answered the young man: ”my father was Burkhardt Sturmfeder; he fell by your side in Italy: so it has been told me.”
”He was a brave man,” said the general, whose eye rested thoughtfully on Albert's features, ”he remained faithful by my side in many a warm day of battle, and fell covered with glory and honour in defence of my person. And you,” he added, ”have you determined to follow his steps?
Methinks you have left your nest somewhat early, for you are scarcely fledged.”
Waldburg, a weather-beaten, hard featured old soldier, interrupted Fronsberg, and said, with a gruff, surly voice, ”I suppose that young bird is seeking a few flocks of wool to repair the dilapidated family nest.”
This rude allusion to the ruined castle of his ancestors, called up a crimson blush on the cheek of the young man. He had never been ashamed of his poverty, but these words sounded so full of scorn and insult that he felt himself, for the first time, really poor, as he stood before the more affluent derider of his name. His eye at that moment pa.s.sing over Truchses Waldburg, fell on that well-known bow window, where, thinking he perceived the person of his love, his usual courage resumed its dominion. ”Every struggle has its price. Sir Knight,” he replied; ”I have proffered head and arm to the League; the motive of this step can be but indifferent to you.”
”Well, well,” answered the other, ”we shall see what the arm can do; but as to the head it cannot be quite so clear, if you take in earnest what was meant as a mere joke.”
The offended youth was about to make an angry reply, when Fronsberg, taking him kindly by the hand, said, ”Just like your father; dear young man! you will in time become like him, a stinging nettle[1] also,--we shall require friends whose hearts are in the right place. You will not be the last thought of, you may rest a.s.sured.”
These few words, from the lips of a man who had won so high a reputation among his contemporaries by bravery and experience in war, produced such an effect on the mind of Albert, that the unguarded answer which floated on his tongue sank harmless. He withdrew from the table to a window, partly for the sake of not interrupting the conversation of the officers, partly to convince himself with greater certainty, whether the momentary apparition which he had seen was really his beloved.
When Albert left the table, Fronsberg turned to Waldburg; ”That is not the way, Herr Truchses, to win over a staunch ally to our cause. I'll wager he has not quitted us with the same zeal he brought with him.”
”Do you consider yourself called upon to raise your voice in favour of that hot-headed youth?” said the other; ”it is not at all necessary; he must learn to take a joke from his superiors.”
”With your permission,” interrupted Breitenstein, ”it is no joke to be jeer'd on account of unavoidable poverty; but I know you never bore his father any good will.”
”And,” continued Fronsberg, ”you have no controul over him in any way, for he has not yet taken the oath of alliance to the League and is therefore at perfect liberty to go wheresoever he pleases. Should he serve under your colours, I would advise you not to push him too far, as he does not appear much inclined to submit to insult or contumely.”
Speechless from rage upon being contradicted, which he never in his life could brook, Truchses first looked at one and then at the other with such fury, that Ludwig von Hutten, fearful of further strife, interposed between them, and said, ”Come, an end with these old stories. It is high time to rise from table. It is now getting dark, and the wine is becoming too powerful for our friends lower down there.
Dieterick von Spat has already drank twice to Wurtemberg's death, and the Franconians have not yet quite settled whether his castles shall be burnt to the ground or divided among them.”
”Let them alone,” laughed Waldburg, scornfully, ”those gentry may do and say what they please to-day; Fronsberg will soon bring them to their senses.”
”No,” said Ludwig von Hutten, ”if any one has a right to talk in such terms, I am the one, the avenger of my son's blood; but until war be declared, intemperate conversation must be restrained. My cousin Ulerich speaks much too violently with the Italians about the monk of Wittemberg, and when he is out of temper, divulges things which ought to be kept secret.”
Fronsberg and Sickingen now rose from table, and those about them following their example, the break-up was general.
FOOTNOTE TO CHAPTER III.:
[Footnote 1: The same words which Fronsberg made use of in speaking of Gotz von Berlichingen.]
CHAPTER IV.
The eyes with which I gaze on her Can pierce thro' wood and stone: They're seated in my heart so true, That beats for her alone.
WALTHER VON DER VOGELWEIDE.
The small distance which separated the table from the window, to which Albert had retired, permitted his hearing every word of the dispute mentioned in the latter part of the last chapter. He rejoiced to perceive the warm interest which Fronsberg took in him, an inexperienced orphan; but, at the same time, he could not conceal from himself that his first step in his military career, had also brought upon him a formidable, bitter enemy.
The unbending pride of Truchses von Waldburg was so well known in the army, that Albert had little reason to hope Hutten's mediatory and conciliatory words would have much effect in soothing the unfavourable impression, which he feared his warmth in upholding the name of his family might have created in the mind of the general. And he was well aware that men of weight and consequence, governed by a violent, imperious temper, such as Waldburg's, do not readily enter into the feelings of those who have excited their anger, nor forgive the ebullition of a generous mind when a.s.sailed in its most vulnerable point.
A slight tap on the shoulder interrupted his thoughts, and as he turned round, his friendly neighbour at table, the scribe to the grand council, stood before him.