第1章
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  CONTENTS

  I。TheDragon’sHouse,II。HowtheBaronWentForthtoShear,III。HowtheBaronCameHomeShorn,IV。TheWhiteCrossontheHill,V。HowOttoDweltatSt。Michaelsburg,VI。HowOttoLivedintheDragon’sHouse,VII。TheRedCockCrowsonDrachenhausen,VIII。IntheHouseoftheDragonScorner,IX。HowOne—eyedHansCametoTrutz—Drachen,X。HowHansBroughtTerrortotheKitchen,XI。HowOttowasSaved,XII。ARideforLife,XIII。HowBaronConradHeldtheBridge,XIV。HowOttoSawtheGreatEmperor,FOREWORD。

  Betweenthefarawaypasthistoryoftheworld,andthatwhichliesneartous;inthetimewhenthewisdomoftheancienttimeswasdeadandhadpassedaway,andourowndaysoflighthadnotyetcome,therelayagreatblackgulfinhumanhistory,agulfofignorance,ofsuperstition,ofcruelty,andofwickedness。

  Thattimewecallthedarkormiddleages。

  Fewrecordsremaintousofthatdreadfulperiodinourworld’shistory,andweonlyknowofitthroughbrokenanddisjointedfragmentsthathavebeenhandeddowntousthroughthegenerations。

  Yet,thoughtheworld’slifethenwassowickedandblack,thereyetremainedafewgoodmenandwomenhereandthere(mostlyinpeacefulandquietmonasteries,farfromthethunderandtheglareoftheworldsbloodybattle),whoknewtherightandthetruthandlivedaccordingtowhattheyknew;whopreservedandtenderlycaredforthetruthsthatthedearChristtaught,andlivedanddiedforinPalestinesolongago。

  ThistalethatIamabouttotellisofalittleboywholivedandsufferedinthosedarkmiddleages;ofhowhesawboththegoodandthebadofmen,andofhow,bygentlenessandloveandnotbystrifeandhatred,hecameatlasttostandaboveothermenandtobelookeduptobyall。Andshouldyoufollowthestorytotheend,Ihopeyoumayfinditapleasure,asIhavedone,toramblethroughthosedarkancientcastles,toliewithlittleOttoandBrotherJohninthehighbelfry—tower,ortositwiththeminthepeacefulquietofthesunnyoldmonasterygarden,for,ofallthestory,IlovebestthoseearlypeacefulyearsthatlittleOttospentinthedearoldWhiteCrossontheHill。

  PoorlittleOtto’slifewasastonyandathornypathway,anditiswellforallofusnowadaysthatwewalkitinfancyandnotintruth。

  I。

  TheDragon’sHouse。

  Upfromthegrayrocks,risingsheerandboldandbare,stoodthewallsandtowersofCastleDrachenhausen。Agreatgate—way,withaheavyiron—pointedportcullishangingsuspendedinthedimarchabove,yawnedblacklyuponthebasculeorfallingdrawbridgethatspannedachasmbetweentheblankstonewallsandtheroadwaythatwindingdownthesteeprockyslopetothelittlevalleyjustbeneath。Thereinthelapofthehillsaroundstoodthewretchedstraw—thatchedhutsofthepeasantsbelongingtothecastle—miserableserfswho,halftimid,halffierce,tilledtheirpoorpatchesofground,wrenchingfromthehardsoilbarelyenoughtokeepbodyandsoultogether。Amongthosevilehovelsplayedthelittlechildrenlikefoxesabouttheirdens,theirwild,fierceeyespeeringoutfromunderamatoftangledyellowhair。

  Beyondthesesqualidhutslaytherushing,foamingriver,spannedbyahigh,rude,stonebridgewheretheroadfromthecastlecrossedit,andbeyondtheriverstretchedthegreat,blackforest,withinwhosegloomydepthsthesavagewildbeastsmadetheirlair,andwhereinwintertimethehowlingwolvescoursedtheirflyingpreyacrossthemoonlitsnowandunderthenet—workoftheblackshadowsfromthenakedboughsabove。

  Thewatchmaninthecold,windybartizanorwatch—towerthatclungtothegraywallsabovethecastlegateway,lookedfromhisnarrowwindow,wherethewindpipedandhummed,acrossthetree—topsthatrolledinendlessbillowsofgreen,overhillandovervalleytotheblueanddistantslopeoftheKeiserberg,where,onthemountainside,glimmeredfarawaythewallsofCastleTrutz—Drachen。

  Withinthemassivestonewallsthroughwhichthegapinggatewayled,threegreatcheerlessbrickbuildings,soforbiddingthateventheyellowsunlightcouldnotlightthemintobrightness,lookeddown,withrowuponrowofwindows,uponthreesidesofthebleak,stonecourtyard。Backofandabovethemclusteredajumbleofotherbuildings,towerandturret,onehigh—peakedroofovertoppinganother。

  ThegreathouseinthecentrewastheBaron’sHall,theparttotheleftwascalledtheRoderhausen;betweenthetwostoodahugesquarepile,risingdizzilyupintotheclearairhighabovetherest—thegreatMelchiorTower。

  Atthetopclusteredajumbleofbuildingshanginghighaloftinthewindyspaceacrookedwoodenbelfry,atall,narrowwatch—

  tower,andarudewoodenhousethatclungpartlytotheroofofthegreattowerandpartlytothewalls。

  >Fromthechimneyofthiscrazyhutathinthreadofsmokewouldnowandthenriseintotheair,fortherewerefolklivingfarupinthatempty,airydesert,andoftentimeswild,uncouthlittlechildrenwereseenplayingontheedgeofthedizzyheight,orsittingwiththeirbarelegshangingdownoverthesheerdepths,astheygazedbelowatwhatwasgoingoninthecourt—yard。Theretheysat,justaslittlechildreninthetownmightsitupontheirfather’sdoor—step;andasthesparrowsmightflyaroundthefeetofthelittletownchildren,sothecirclingflocksofrooksanddawsflewaroundthefeetoftheseair—borncreatures。

  ItwasSchwartzCarlandhiswifeandlittleoneswholivedfarupthereintheMelchiorTower,foritoverlookedthetopofthehillbehindthecastleandsodownintothevalleyuponthefurtherside。There,dayafterday,SchwartzCarlkeptwatchuponthegrayroadthatranlikearibbonthroughthevalley,fromtherichtownofGruenstaldttotherichtownofStaffenburgen,wherepassedmerchantcaravansfromtheonetotheother—forthelordofDrachenhausenwasarobberbaron。

  Dong!Dong!ThegreatalarmbellwouldsuddenlyringoutfromthebelfryhighupupontheMelchiorTower。Dong!Dong!Tilltherooksanddawswhirledclamoringandscreaming。Dong!Dong!Tillthefiercewolf—houndsintherockykennelsbehindthecastlestableshowleddismallyinanswer。Dong!Dong!—Dong!Dong!

  Thenwouldfollowagreatnoiseanduproarandhurryinthecastlecourt—yardbelow;menshoutingandcallingtooneanother,theringingofarmor,andtheclatterofhorses’hoofsuponthehardstone。Withthecreakingandgroaningofthewindlasstheiron—pointedportculliswouldbeslowlyraised,andwithaclankandrattleandclashofironchainsthedrawbridgewouldfallcrashing。Thenoveritwouldthunderhorseandman,clatteringawaydownthewinding,stonypathway,untilthegreatforestwouldswallowthem,andtheywouldbegone。

  Thenforawhilepeacewouldfalluponthecastlecourtyard,thecockwouldcrow,thecookwouldscoldalazymaid,andGretchen,leaningoutofawindow,wouldsingasnatchofasong,justasthoughitwereapeacefulfarm—house,insteadofadenofrobbers。

  Maybeitwouldbeeveningbeforethemenwouldreturnoncemore。

  Perhapsonewouldhaveabloodyclothboundabouthishead,perhapsonewouldcarryhisarminasling;perhapsone—maybemorethanone—wouldbeleftbehind,nevertoreturnagain,andsoonforgottenbyallexceptingsomepoorwomanwhowouldweepsilentlyinthelonelinessofherdailywork。

  Nearlyalwaystheadventurerswouldbringbackwiththempack—

  horsesladenwithbalesofgoods。Sometimes,besidesthese,theywouldreturnwithapoorsoul,hishandstiedbehindhisbackandhisfeetbeneaththehorse’sbody,hisfurcloakandhisflatcapwofullyawry。Awhilehewoulddisappearinsomegloomycellofthedungeon—keep,untilanenvoywouldcomefromthetownwithafatpurse,whenhisransomwouldbepaid,thedungeonwoulddisgorgehim,andhewouldbeallowedtogouponhiswayagain。

  OnemanalwaysrodebesideBaronConradinhisexpeditionsandadventuresashort,deep—chested,broad—shoulderedman,withsinewyarmssolongthatwhenhestoodhishandshungnearlytohisknees。

  Hiscoarse,close—clippedhaircamesolowuponhisbrowthatonlyastripofforeheadshowedbetweenitandhisbushy,blackeyebrows。Oneeyewasblind;theothertwinkledandgleamedlikeasparkunderthepenthouseofhisbrows。Manyfolksaidthattheone—eyedHanshaddrunkbeerwiththeHill—man,whohadgivenhimthestrengthoften,forhecouldbendanironspitlikeahazeltwig,andcouldliftabarrelofwinefromthefloortohisheadaseasilyasthoughitwereabasketofeggs。

  Asfortheone—eyedHansheneversaidthathehadnotdrunkbeerwiththeHill—man,forhelikedthecreditthatsuchreportsgavehimwiththeotherfolk。Andso,likeahalfsavagemastiff,faithfultodeathtohismaster,buttohimalone,hewenthissullenwayandlivedhissullenlifewithinthecastlewalls,halfrespected,halffearedbytheotherinmates,foritwasdangeroustriflingwiththeone—eyedHans。

  II。

  HowtheBaronwentForthtoShear。

  BaronConradandBaronessMatildasattogetherattheirmorningmealbelowtheirraisedseatsstretchedthelong,heavywoodentable,loadedwithcoarsefood—blackbread,boiledcabbage,bacon,eggs,agreatchinefromawildboar,sausages,suchasweeatnowadays,andflagonsandjarsofbeerandwine,Alongtheboardsatrangedintheorderofthehouseholdthefollowersandretainers。Fourorfiveslatternlywomenandgirlsservedtheothersastheyfednoisilyatthetable,movinghereandtherebehindthemenwithwoodenorpewterdishesoffood,nowandthenlaughingatthejeststhatpassedorjoininginthetalk。Ahugefireblazedandcrackledandroaredinthegreatopenfireplace,beforewhichwerestretchedtwofierce,shaggy,wolfish—lookinghounds。Outside,therainbeatupontherooforrantricklingfromtheeaves,andeverynowandthenachilldraughtofwindwouldbreathethroughtheopenwindowsofthegreatblackdining—hallandsetthefireroaring。

  Alongthedull—graywallofstonehungpiecesofarmor,andswordsandlances,andgreatbranchingantlersofthestag。

  Overheadarchedtherude,heavy,oakenbeams,blackenedwithageandsmoke,andunderfootwasachillpavementofstone。

  UponBaronConrad’sshoulderleanedthepale,slender,yellow—

  hairedBaroness,theonlyoneinalltheworldwithwhomthefiercelordofDrachenhausensoftenedtogentleness,theonlyoneuponwhomhissavagebrowslookedkindly,andtowhomhisharshvoicesoftenedwithlove。

  TheBaronesswastalkingtoherhusbandinalowvoice,ashelookeddownintoherpaleface,withitsgentleblueeyes。

  \"Andwiltthounot,then,\"saidshe,\"dothatonethingforme?\"

  \"Nay,\"hegrowled,inhisdeepvoice,\"Icannotpromisetheenevermoretoattackthetowns—peopleinthevalleyoveryonder。

  HowelsecouldIlivean’Ididnottakefromthefattownhogstofillourownlarder?\"

  \"Nay,\"saidtheBaroness,\"thoucouldstliveassomeothersdo,foralldonotrobtheburgherfolkasthoudost。Alas!mishapwillcomeupontheesomeday,andifthoushouldstbeslain,whatthenwouldcomeofme?\"

  \"Prut,\"saidtheBaron,\"thyfoolishfears\"Buthelaidhisrough,hairyhandsoftlyupontheBaroness’headandstrokedheryellowhair。

  \"Formysake,Conrad,\"whisperedtheBaroness。

  Apausefollowed。TheBaronsatlookingthoughtfullydownintotheBaroness’face。Amomentmore,andhemighthavepromisedwhatshebesought;amomentmore,andhemighthavebeensavedallthebittertroublethatwastofollow。Butitwasnottobe。

  Suddenlyaharshsoundbrokethequietnessofallintoaconfusionofnoises。Dong!Dong!—itwasthegreatalarm—bellfromMelchior’sTower。

  TheBaronstartedatthesound。Hesatforamomentortwowithhishandclincheduponthearmofhisseatasthoughabouttorise,thenhesunkbackintohischairagain。

  Alltheothershadrisentumultuouslyfromthetable,andnowstoodlookingathim,awaitinghisorders。

  \"Formysake,Conrad,\"saidtheBaronessagain。

  Dong!Dong!rangthealarm—bell。TheBaronsatwithhiseyesbentuponthefloor,scowlingblackly。

  TheBaronesstookhishandinbothofhers。\"Formysake,\"shepleaded,andthetearsfilledherblueeyesasshelookedupathim,\"donotgothistime。\"

  >Fromthecourtyardwithoutcamethesoundofhorses’hoofsclashingagainstthestonepavement,andthoseinthehallstoodwatchingandwonderingatthisstrangedelayoftheLordBaron。

  Justthenthedooropenedandonecamepushingpasttherest;itwastheone—eyedHans。HecamestraighttowheretheBaronsat,and,leaningover,whisperedsomethingintohismaster’sear。

  \"Formysake,\"imploredtheBaronessagain;butthescalewasturned。TheBaronpushedbackhischairheavilyandrosetohisfeet。\"Forward!\"heroared,inavoiceofthunder,andagreatshoutwentupinanswerashestrodeclankingdownthehallandoutoftheopendoor。

  TheBaronesscoveredherfacewithherhandsandwept。

  \"Nevermind,littlebird,\"saidoldUrsela,thenurse,soothingly;\"hewillcomebacktotheeagainashehascomebacktotheebefore。\"

  ButthepooryoungBaronesscontinuedweepingwithherfaceburiedinherhands,becausehehadnotdonethatthingshehadasked。

  Awhiteyoungfaceframedinyellowhairlookedoutintothecourtyardfromawindowabove;butifBaronConradofDrachenhausensawitfrombeneaththebarsofhisshininghelmet,hemadenosign。

  \"Forward\"hecriedagain。

  Downthunderedthedrawbridge,andawaytheyrodewithclashinghoofsandringingarmorthroughthegrayshroudofdrillingrain。

  Thedayhadpassedandtheeveninghadcome,andtheBaronessandherwomensatbesidearoaringfire。Allwerechatteringandtalkingandlaughingbuttwo—thefairyoungBaronessandoldUrsela;theonesatlistening,listening,listening,theothersatwithherchinrestinginthepalmofherhand,silentlywatchingheryoungmistress。Thenightwasfallinggrayandchill,whensuddenlytheclearnotesofabuglerangfromwithoutthecastlewalls。TheyoungBaronessstarted,andtherosylightflashedupintoherpalecheeks。

  \"Yes,good,\"saidoldUrsela;\"theredfoxhascomebacktohisdenagain,andIwarranthebringsafattowngooseinhismouth;nowwe’llhavefineclothestowear,andthouanothergoldchaintohangaboutthyprettyneck。\"

  TheyoungBaronesslaughedmerrilyattheoldwoman’sspeech。

  \"Thistime,\"saidshe,\"Iwillchooseastringofpearlslikethatonemyauntusedtowear,andwhichIhadaboutmyneckwhenConradfirstsawme。\"

  Minuteafterminutepassed;theBaronesssatnervouslyplayingwithabraceletofgoldenbeadsaboutherwrist。\"Howlonghestays,\"saidshe。

  \"Yes,\"saidUrsela;\"butitisnotcousinwishthatholdshimbythecoat。\"

  Asshespoke,adoorbangedinthepassagewaywithout,andtheringofironfootstepssoundeduponthestonefloor。Clank!

  Clank!Clank!

  TheBaronessrosetoherfeet,herfaceallalight。Thedooropened;thentheflushofjoyfadedawayandthefacegrewwhite,white,white。Onehandclutchedthebackofthebenchwhereonshehadbeensitting,theotherhandpressedtightlyagainstherside。

  ItwasHanstheone—eyedwhostoodinthedoorway,andblacktroublesatonhisbrow;allwerelookingathimwaiting。

  \"Conrad,\"whisperedtheBaroness,atlast。\"WhereisConrad?

  Whereisyourmaster?\"andevenherlipswerewhiteasshespoke。

  Theone—eyedHanssaidnothing。

  Justthencamethenoiseofmensvoicesinthecorridorandtheshuffleandscuffleoffeetcarryingaheavyload。Nearerandnearertheycame,andone—eyedHansstoodaside。Sixmencamestrugglingthroughthedoorway,carryingalitter,andonthelitterlaythegreatBaronConrad。Theflamingtorchthrustintotheironbracketagainstthewallflashedupwiththedraughtofairfromtheopendoor,andthelightfelluponthewhitefaceandtheclosedeyes,andshoweduponhisbodyarmoragreatredstainthatwasnotthestainofrust。

  SuddenlyUrselacriedoutinasharp,shrillvoice,\"Catchher,shefalls!\"

  ItwastheBaroness。

  Thentheoldcroneturnedfiercelyupontheone—eyedHans。\"Thoufool!\"shecried,\"whydidstthoubringhimhere?Thouhastkilledthylady!\"

  \"Ididnotknow,\"saidtheone—eyedHans,stupidly。

  III。

  HowtheBaroncameHomeShorn。

  ButBaronConradwasnotdead。Fordayshelayuponhishardbed,nowmutteringincoherentwordsbeneathhisredbeard,nowravingfiercelywiththefeverofhiswound。Butonedayhewokeagaintothethingsabouthim。

  Heturnedhisheadfirsttotheonesideandthentotheother;

  theresatSchwartzCarlandtheone—eyedHans。Twoorthreeotherretainersstoodbyagreatwindowthatlookedoutintothecourtyardbeneath,jestingandlaughingtogetherinlowtones,andonelayupontheheavyoakenbenchthatstoodalongbythewallsnoringinhissleep。

  \"Whereisyourlady?\"saidtheBaron,presently;\"andwhyisshenotwithmeatthistime?\"

  Themanthatlayuponthebenchstartedupatthesoundofhisvoice,andthoseatthewindowcamehurryingtohisbedside。ButSchwartzCarlandtheone—eyedHanslookedatoneanother,andneitherofthemspoke。TheBaronsawthelookandinitreadacertainmeaningthatbroughthimtohiselbow,thoughonlytosinkbackuponhispillowagainwithagroan。

  \"Whydoyounotanswerme?\"saidheatlast,inahollowvoice;

  thentotheone—eyedHans,\"Hastnotongue,fool,thatthoustandestgapingtherelikeafish?Answerme,whereisthymistress?\"

  \"I—Idonotknow,\"stammeredpoorHans。

  ForawhiletheBaronlaysilentlylookingfromonefacetotheother,thenhespokeagain。\"HowlonghaveIbeenlyinghere?\"

  saidhe。

  \"Asennight,mylord,\"saidMasterRudolph,thesteward,whohadcomeintotheroomandwhonowstoodamongtheothersatthebedside。

  \"Asennight,\"repeatedtheBaron,inalowvoice,andthentoMasterRudolph,\"AndhastheBaronessbeenoftenbesidemeinthattime?\"MasterRudolphhesitated。\"Answerme,\"saidtheBaron,harshly。

  \"Not—notoften,\"saidMasterRudolph,hesitatingly。

  TheBaronlaysilentforalongtime。Atlasthepassedhishandsoverhisfaceandheldthemthereforaminute,thenofasudden,beforeanyoneknewwhathewasabouttodo,heroseuponhiselbowandthensatuprightuponthebed。Thegreenwoundbrokeoutafreshandadarkredspotgrewandspreaduponthelinenwrappings;hisfacewasdrawnandhaggardwiththepainofhismoving,andhiseyeswildandbloodshot。Greatdropsofsweatgatheredandstooduponhisforeheadashesatthereswayingslightlyfromsidetoside。

  \"Myshoes,\"saidhe,hoarsely。

  MasterRudolphsteppedforward。\"But,myLordBaron,\"hebeganandthenstoppedshort,fortheBaronshothimsuchalookthathistonguestoodstillinhishead。

  Hanssawthatlookoutofhisoneeye。Downhedroppeduponhiskneesand,fumblingunderthebed,broughtforthapairofsoftleathernshoes,whichheslippedupontheBaron’sfeetandthenlacedthethongsabovetheinstep。

  \"Yourshoulder,\"saidtheBaron。Heroseslowlytohisfeet,grippingHansinthestressofhisagonyuntilthefellowwincedagain。Foramomenthestoodasthoughgatheringstrength,thendoggedlystartedforthuponthatquestwhichhehadsetuponhimself。

  Atthedoorhestoppedforamomentasthoughovercomebyhisweakness,andthereMasterNicholas,hiscousin,methim;forthestewardhadsentoneoftheretainerstotelltheoldmanwhattheBaronwasabouttodo。

  \"Thoumustgobackagain,Conrad,\"saidMasterNicholas;\"thouartnotfittobeabroad。\"

  TheBaronansweredhimneveraword,butheglaredathimfromoutofhisbloodshoteyesandgroundhisteethtogether。Thenhestartedforthagainuponhisway。

  Downthelonghallhewent,slowlyandlaboriously,theothersfollowingsilentlybehindhim,thenupthesteepwindingstairs,stepbystep,nowandthenstoppingtoleanagainstthewall。Sohereachedalongandgloomypassagewaylitonlybythelightofalittlewindowatthefurtherend。

  Hestoppedatthedoorofoneoftheroomsthatopenedintothispassage—way,stoodforamoment,thenhepusheditopen。

  NoonewaswithinbutoldUrsela,whosatcrooningoverafirewithabundleuponherknees。ShedidnotseetheBaronorknowthathewasthere。

  \"Whereisyourlady?\"saidhe,inahollowvoice。

  Thentheoldnurselookedupwithastart。\"Jesublessus,\"

  criedshe,andcrossedherself。

  \"Whereisyourlady?\"saidtheBaronagain,inthesamehoarsevoice;andthen,notwaitingforananswer,\"Isshedead?\"

  Theoldwomanlookedathimforaminuteblinkingherwateryeyes,andthensuddenlybrokeintoashrill,long—drawnwail。

  TheBaronneededtohearnomore。

  Asthoughinanswertotheoldwoman’scry,athinpipingcomplaintcamefromthebundleinherlap。

  AtthesoundtheredbloodflashedupintotheBaron’sface。

  \"Whatisthatyouhavethere?\"saidhe,pointingtothebundleupontheoldwoman’sknees。

  Shedrewbackthecoveringsandtherelayapoor,weak,littlebaby,thatonceagainraiseditsfaintreedypipe。

  \"Itisyourson,\"saidUrsela,\"thatthedearBaronessleftbehindherwhentheholyangelstookhertoParadise。SheblessedhimandcalledhimOttobeforesheleftus。\"

  IV。

  TheWhiteCrossontheHill。

  HeretheglassywatersoftheRiverRhine,holdinguponitsbosomamimicpictureoftheblueskyandwhitecloudsfloatingabove,runssmoothlyaroundajuttingpointofland,St。

  Michaelsburg,risingfromthereedybanksofthestream,sweepsupwithasmoothswelluntilitcutssharpandclearagainstthesky。Stubbyvineyardscovereditsearthybreast,andfieldandgardenandorchardcrowneditsbrow,wherelaytheMonasteryofSt。Michaelsburg—\"TheWhiteCrossontheHill。\"Therewithinthewhitewalls,wherethewarmyellowsunlightslept,allwaspeacefulquietness,brokenonlynowandthenbythecrowingofthecockortheclamorouscackleofahen,thelowingofkineorthebleatingofgoats,asolitaryvoiceinprayer,thefaintaccordofdistantsinging,ortheresonanttollofthemonasterybellfromthehigh—peakedbelfrythatoverlookedthehillandvalleyandthesmooth,far—windingstream。Noothersoundsbrokethestillness,forinthispeacefulhavenwasneverheardtheclashofarmor,theringofiron—shodhoofs,orthehoarsecalltoarms。

  Allmenwerenotwickedandcruelandfierceinthatdark,far—

  awayage;allwerenotrobbersandterror—spreadingtyrants,eveninthattimewhenmen’shandswereagainsttheirneighbors,andwarandrapinedweltinplaceofpeaceandjustice。

  AbbotOtto,ofSt。Michaelsburg,wasagentle,patient,pale。

  facedoldman;hiswhitehandsweresoftandsmooth,andnoonewouldhavethoughtthattheycouldhaveknowntheharshtouchofsword—hiltandlance。Andyet,inthedaysoftheEmperorFrederick—thegrandsonofthegreatRed—beard—noonestoodhigherintheprowessofarmsthanhe。Butallatonce—forwhy,nomancouldtell—achangecameoverhim,andintheflowerofhisyouthandfameandgrowingpowerhegaveupeverythinginlifeandenteredthequietsanctuaryofthatwhitemonasteryonthehill—side,sofarawayfromthetumultandtheconflictoftheworldinwhichhehadlived。

  Somesaidthatitwasbecausetheladyhehadlovedhadlovedhisbrother,andthatwhentheyweremarriedOttoofWolbergenhadleftthechurchwithabrokenheart。

  Butsuchstoriesareoldsongsthathavebeensungbefore。

  Clatter!clatter!Jingle!jingle!Itwasafull—armedknightthatcameridingupthesteephillroadthatwoundfromlefttorightandrighttoleftamidthevineyardsontheslopesofSt。

  Michaelsburg。Polishedhelmandcorseletblazedinthenoonsunlight,fornoknightinthosedaysdaredtoridetheroadsexceptinfullarmor。Infrontofhimthesolitaryknightcarriedabundlewrappedinthefoldsofhiscoarsegraycloak。

  ItwasasorelysickmanthatrodeuptheheightsofSt。

  Michaelsburg。Hisheadhunguponhisbreastthroughthefaintnessofwearinessandpain;foritwastheBaronConrad。

  Hehadlefthisbedofsicknessthatmorning,hadsaddledhishorseinthegraydawnwithhisownhands,andhadriddenawayintothemistytwilightoftheforestwithouttheknowledgeofanyoneexceptingtheporter,who,winkingandblinkinginthebewildermentofhisbrokenslumber,hadopenedthegatestothesickman,hardlyknowingwhathewasdoing,untilhebeheldhismasterfaraway,clatteringdownthesteepbridle—path。

  Eightleagueshadheriddenthatdaywithneitherastopnorastay;butnowatlasttheendofhisjourneyhadcome,andhedrewreinundertheshadeofthegreatwoodengatewayofSt。

  Michaelsburg。

  Hereacheduptotheknottedropeandgaveitapull,andfromwithinsoundedtheansweringringoftheporter’sbell。Byandbyalittlewicketopenedinthegreatwoodenportals,andthegentle,wrinkledfaceofoldBrotherBenedict,theporter,peepedoutatthestrangeiron—cladvisitorandthegreatblackwar—horse,streakedandwetwiththesweatofthejourney,fleckedanddappledwithflakesoffoam。Afewwordspassedbetweenthem,andthenthelittlewindowwasclosedagain;andwithin,theshufflingpatofthesandalledfeetsoundedfainterandfainter,asBrotherBenedictborethemessagefromBaronConradtoAbbotOtto,andthemail—cladfigurewasleftalone,sittingthereassilentasastatue。

  Byandbythefootstepssoundedagain;therecameanoiseofclatteringchainsandtherattleofthekeyinthelock,andtheraspingoftheboltsdraggedback。Thenthegateswungslowlyopen,andBaronConradrodeintotheshelteroftheWhiteCross,andasthehoofsofhiswar—horseclasheduponthestonesofthecourtyardwithin,thewoodengateswungslowlytobehindhim。

  AbbotOttostoodbythetablewhenBaronConradenteredthehigh—vaultedroomfromthefartherend。Thelightfromtheorielwindowbehindtheoldmanshedbrokenraysoflightuponhim,andseemedtoframehisthingrayhairswithagoldenglory。Hiswhite,delicatehandresteduponthetablebesidehim,anduponsomesheetsofparchmentcoveredwithrowsofancientGreekwritingwhichhehadbeenengagedindeciphering。

  Clank!clank!clank!BaronConradstrodeacrossthestonefloor,andthenstoppedshortinfrontofthegoodoldman。

  \"Whatdostthouseekhere,myson?\"saidtheAbbot。

  \"Iseeksanctuaryformysonandthybrother’sgrandson,\"saidtheBaronConrad,andheflungbackthefoldsofhiscloakandshowedthefaceofthesleepingbabe。

  ForawhiletheAbbotsaidnothing,butstoodgazingdreamilyatthebaby。Afterawhilehelookedup。\"Andthechild’smother,\"

  saidhe—\"whathathshetosayatthis?\"

  \"Shehathnaughttosay,\"saidBaronConrad,hoarsely,andthenstoppedshortinhisspeech。\"Sheisdead,\"saidhe,atlast,inahuskyvoice,\"andiswithGod’sangelsinparadise。\"

  TheAbbotlookedintentlyintheBaron’sface。\"So!\"saidhe,underhisbreath,andthenforthefirsttimenoticedhowwhiteanddrawnwastheBaron’sface。\"Artsickthyself?\"heasked。

  \"Ay,\"saidtheBaron,\"Ihavecomefromdeath’sdoor。Butthatisnomatter。Wiltthoutakethislittlebabeintosanctuary?Myhouseisavile,roughplace,andnotfitforsuchashe,andhismotherwiththeblessedsaintsinheaven。\"AndoncemoreConradofDrachenhausen’sfacebegantwitchingwiththepainofhisthoughts。

  \"Yes,\"saidtheoldman,gently,\"heshalllivehere,\"andhestretchedouthishandsandtookthebabe。\"Would,\"saidhe,\"thatallthelittlechildreninthesedarktimesmightbethusbroughttothehouseofGod,andtherelearnmercyandpeace,insteadofrapineandwar。\"

  Forawhilehestoodlookingdowninsilenceatthebabyinhisarms,butwithhismindfarawayuponotherthings。Atlastherousedhimselfwithastart。\"Andthou,\"saidhetotheBaronConrad—\"hathnotthyheartbeenchastenedandsoftenedbythis?Surelythouwiltnotgobacktothyoldlifeofrapineandextortion?\"

  \"Nay,\"saidBaronConrad,gruffly,\"Iwillrobthecityswinenolonger,forthatwasthelastthingthatmydearoneaskedofme。\"

  TheoldAbbot’sfacelitupwithasmile。\"Iamrightgladthatthyheartwassoftened,andthatthouartwillingatlasttoceasefromwarandviolence。\"

  \"Nay,\"criedtheBaron,roughly,\"Isaidnothingofceasingfromwar。Byheaven,no!Iwillhaverevenge!\"Andheclashedhisironfootuponthefloorandclinchedhisfistsandgroundhisteethtogether。\"Listen,\"saidhe,\"andIwilltelltheehowmytroubleshappened。AfortnightagoIrodeoutuponanexpeditionagainstacaravanoffatburghersinthevalleyofGruenhoffen。

  Theyoutnumberedusmanytoone,butcityswinesuchastheyarenotofthestufftostandagainstourkindforalongtime。

  Nevertheless,whilethemen—at—armswhoguardedthecaravanwerestayinguswithpikeandcross—bowfrombehindatreewhichtheyhadfelledinfrontofahighbridgetheothershaddriventhepack—horsesoff,sothatbythetimewehadforcedthebridgetheywerealeagueormoreaway。Wepushedafterthemashardaswewereable,butwhenwecameupwiththemwefoundthattheyhadbeenjoinedbyBaronFrederickofTrutz—Drachen,towhomforthreeyearsandmoretheburghersofGruenstadthavebeenpayingatributeforhisprotectionagainstothers。Thenagaintheymadeastand,andthistimetheBaronFrederickhimselfwaswiththem。

  Butthoughthedogsfoughtwell,wewereforcingthemback,andmighthavegotthebetterofthem,hadnotmyhorsestumbleduponaslopingstone,andsofellandrolledoveruponme。WhileIlaytherewithmyhorseuponme,BaronFrederickranmedownwithhislance,andgavemethatfoulwoundthatcamesoneartoslayingme—anddidslaymydearwife。Nevertheless,mymenwereabletobringmeoutfromthatpressandaway,andwehadbittentheTrutz—Drachendogssodeepthattheyweretoosoretofollowus,andsoletusgoourwayinpeace。Butwhenthosefoolsofminebroughtmetomycastletheyboremelyinguponalittertomywife’schamber。Thereshebeheldme,and,thinkingmedead,swoonedadeath—swoon,sothatsheonlylivedlongenoughtoblesshernew—bornbabeandnameitOtto,foryou,herfather’sbrother。But,byheavens!Iwillhaverevenge,rootandbranch,uponthatviletribe,theRoderburgsofTrutz—

  Drachen。Theirgreat—grandsirebuiltthatcastleinscornofBaronCasperintheolddays;theirgrandsireslewmyfather’sgrandsire;BaronNicholasslewtwoofourkindred;andnowthisBaronFrederickgivesmethatfoulwoundandkillsmydearwifethroughmybody。\"HeretheBaronstoppedshort;thenofasudden,shakinghisfistabovehishead,hecriedoutinhishoarsevoice:\"Iswearbyallthesaintsinheaven,eithertheredcockshallcrowovertheroofofTrutz—Drachenorelseitshallcrowovermyhouse!TheblackdogshallsitonBaronFrederick’sshouldersorelseheshallsitonmine!\"Againhestopped,andfixinghisblazingeyesupontheoldman,\"Hearestthouthat,priest?\"saidhe,andbrokeintoagreatboisterouslaugh。

  AbbotOttosighedheavily,buthetriednofurthertopersuadetheotherintodifferentthoughts。

  \"Thouartwounded,\"saidhe,atlast,inagentlevoice;\"atleaststayherewithusuntilthouarthealed。\"

  \"Nay,\"saidtheBaron,roughly,\"Iwilltarrynolongerthantoheartheepromisetocareformychild。\"

  \"Ipromise,\"saidtheAbbot;\"butlayasidethyarmor,andrest。\"

  \"Nay,\"saidtheBaron,\"Igobackagainto—day。\"

  AtthistheAbbotcriedoutinamazement:\"Surethou,woundedman,wouldnottakethatlongjourneywithoutaduestayforresting!Think!Nightwillbeupontheebeforethoucanstreachhomeagain,andtheforestsarebesetwithwolves。\"

  TheBaronlaughed。\"ThosearenotthewolvesIfear,\"saidhe。

  \"Urgemenofurther,Imustreturnto—night;yetifthouhastamindtodomeakindnessthoucanstgivemesomefoodtoeatandaflaskofyourgoldenMichaelsburg;beyondthese,Iasknofurtherfavorofanyman,behepriestorlayman。\"

  \"WhatcomfortIcangivetheethoushalthave,\"saidtheAbbot,inhispatientvoice,andsolefttheroomtogivetheneedfulorders,bearingthebabewithhim。

  V。

  HowOttoDweltatSt。Michaelsburg。

  Sothepoor,little,motherlesswaiflivedamongtheoldmonksattheWhiteCrossonthehill,thrivingandgrowingapaceuntilhehadreachedelevenortwelveyearsofage;aslender,fair—

  hairedlittlefellow,withastrange,quietseriousmanner。

  \"Poorlittlechild!\"OldBrotherBenedictwouldsometimessaytotheothers,\"poorlittlechild!Thetroublesinwhichhewasbornmusthavebrokenhiswitslikeaglasscup。Whatthinkyehesaidtometo—day?’DearBrotherBenedict,’saidhe,’dostthoushavethehairoffofthetopofthyheadsothatthedearGodmayseethythoughtsthebetter?’Thinkofthatnow!\"andthegoodoldmanshookwithsilentlaughter。

  WhensuchtalkcametothegoodFatherAbbot’sears,hesmiledquietlytohimself。\"Itmaybe,\"saidhe,\"thatthewisdomoflittlechildrenflieshigherthanourheavywitscanfollow。\"

  AtleastOttowasnotslowwithhisstudies,andBrotherEmmanuel,whotaughthimhislessons,saidmorethanoncethat,ifhiswitswerecrackedinotherways,theyweresoundenoughinLatin。

  Otto,inaquaint,simplewaywhichbelongedtohim,wasgentleandobedienttoall。ButtherewasoneamongtheBrethrenofSt。

  Michaelsburgwhomhelovedfarabovealltherest—BrotherJohn,apoorhalf—wittedfellow,ofsometwenty—fiveorthirtyyearsofage。Whenaverylittlechild,hehadfallenfromhisnurse’sarmsandhurthishead,andashegrewupintoboyhood,andshowedthathiswitshadbeenaddledbyhisfall,hisfamilyknewnotwhatelsetodowithhim,andsosenthimofftotheMonasteryofSt。Michaelsburg,wherehelivedhissimple,witlesslifeuponasortofsufferance,asthoughhewereatame,harmlessanimal。

  WhileOttowasstillalittlebaby,hehadbeengivenintoBrotherJohn’scare。Thereafter,anduntilOttohadgrownoldenoughtocareforhimself,poorBrotherJohnneverlefthislittlecharge,nightorday。OftentimesthegoodFatherAbbot,comingintothegarden,wherehelovedtowalkaloneinhismeditations,wouldfindthepoor,simpleBrothersittingundertheshadeofthepear—tree,closetothebee—hives,rockingthelittlebabyinhisarms,singingstrange,crazysongstoit,andgazingfarawayintotheblue,emptyskywithhiscurious,paleeyes。

  Although,asOttogrewupintoboyhood,hislessonsandhistasksseparatedhimfromBrotherJohn,thebondbetweenthemseemedtogrowstrongerratherthanweaker。DuringthehoursthatOttohadforhisowntheywerescarcelyeverapart。Downinthevineyard,wherethemonksweregatheringthegrapesforthevintage,inthegarden,orinthefields,thetwowerealwaysseentogether,eitherwanderinghandinhand,orseatedinsomeshadynookorcorner。

  Butmostofalltheylovedtolieupintheairywoodenbelfry;

  thegreatgapingbellhangingdarklyabovethem,themoulderingcross—beamsglimmeringfarupunderthedimshadowsoftheroof,wheredweltagreatbrownowlthat,unfrightenedattheirfamiliarpresence,stareddownatthemwithhisround,solemneyes。Belowthemstretchedthewhitewallsofthegarden,beyondthemthevineyard,andbeyondthatagainthefarshiningriver,thatseemedtoOtto’smindtoleadintowonder—land。Therethetwowouldlieuponthebelfryfloorbythehour,talkingtogetherofthestrangestthings。

  \"IsawthedearAngelGabrielagainyestermorn,\"saidBrotherJohn。

  \"So!\"saysOtto,seriously;\"andwherewasthat?\"

  \"Itwasoutinthegarden,intheoldapple—tree,\"saidBrotherJohn。\"Iwaswalkingthere,andmywitswererunningaroundinthegrasslikeamouse。WhatheardIbutawonderfulsoundofsinging,anditwaslikethehumofagreatbee,onlysweeterthanhoney。SoIlookedupintothetree,andthereIsawtwosparks。Ithoughtatfirstthattheyweretwostarsthathadfallenoutofheaven;butwhatthinkyoutheywere,littlechild?\"

  \"Idonotknow,\"saidOtto,breathlessly。

  \"Theywereangel’seyes,\"saidBrotherJohn;andhesmiledinthestrangestway,ashegazedupintothebluesky。\"SoI

  lookedatthetwosparksandfelthappy,asonedoesinspringtimewhenthecoldweatherisgone,andthewarmsunshines,andthecuckoosingsagain。Then,by—and—by,Isawthefacetowhichtheeyesbelonged。First,itshonewhiteandthinlikethemooninthedaylight;butitgrewbrighterandbrighter,untilithurtone’seyestolookatit,asthoughithadbeentheblessedsunitself。AngelGabriel’shandwasaswhiteassilver,andinitheheldagreenboughwithblossoms,likethosethatgrowonthethornbush。Asforhisrobe,itwasallofonepiece,andfinerthantheFatherAbbot’slinen,andshonebesidelikethesunlightonpuresnow。SoIknewfromallthesethingsthatitwastheblessedAngelGabriel。\"

  \"Whatdotheysayaboutthistree,BrotherJohn?\"saidhetome。

  \"Theysayitisdying,myLordAngel,\"saidI,\"andthatthegardenerwillbringasharpaxeandcutitdown。\"

  \"’Andwhatdostthousayaboutit,BrotherJohn?’saidhe。\"

  \"’Ialsosayyes,andthatitisdying,’saidI。\"

  \"AtthathesmileduntilhisfaceshonesobrightthatIhadtoshutmyeyes。\"

  \"’NowIbegintobelieve,BrotherJohn,thatthouartasfoolishasmensay,’saidhe。’Look,tillIshowthee。’AndthereatI

  openedmineeyesagain。\"

  \"ThenAngelGabrieltouchedthedeadbrancheswiththeflowerytwigthatheheldinhishand,andtherewasthedeadwoodallcoveredwithgreenleaves,andfairblossomsandbeautifulapplesasyellowasgold。Eachsmellingmoresweetlythanagardenofflowers,andbettertothetastethanwhitebreadandhoney。

  \"’Theyaresoulsoftheapples,’saidthegoodAngel,’andtheycanneverwitheranddie。’

  \"’ThenI’lltellthegardenerthatheshallnotcutthetreedown,’saidI。\"

  \"’No,no,’saidthedearGabriel,’thatwillneverdo,forifthetreeisnotcutdownhereontheearth,itcanneverbeplantedinparadise。’

  HereBrotherJohnstoppedshortinhisstory,andbegansingingoneofhiscrazysongs,ashegazedwithhispaleeyesfarawayintonothingatall。

  \"Buttellme,BrotherJohn,\"saidlittleOtto,inahushedvoice,\"whatelsedidthegoodAngelsaytothee?\"

  BrotherJohnstoppedshortinhissongandbeganlookingfromrighttoleft,andupanddown,asthoughtogatherhiswits。

  \"So!\"saidhe,\"therewassomethingelsethathetoldme。Tschk!

  IfIcouldbutthinknow。Yes,good!Thisisit—’Nothingthathaslived,’saidhe,’shalleverdie,andnothingthathasdiedshalleverlive。’

  Ottodrewadeepbreath。\"IwouldthatImightseethebeautifulAngelGabrielsometime,\"saidhe;butBrotherJohnwassingingagainanddidnotseemtohearwhathesaid。

  NexttoBrotherJohn,thenearestonetothelittlechildwasthegoodAbbotOtto,forthoughhehadneverseenwonderfulthingswiththeeyesofhissoul,suchasBrotherJohn’shadbeheld,andsocouldnottellofthem,hewasyetabletogivelittleOttoanotherpleasurethatnooneelsecouldgive。

  Hewasagreatloverofbooks,theoldAbbot,andhadunderlockandkeywonderfulandbeautifulvolumes,boundinhog—skinandmetal,andwithcoversinlaidwithcarvedivory,orstuddedwithpreciousstones。Butwithinthesecovers,beautifulastheywere,laytherealwonderofthebooks,likethesoulinthebody;forthere,besidetheblacklettersandinitials,gaywithredandblueandgold,werebeautifulpicturespainteduponthecreamyparchment。SaintsandAngels,theBlessedVirginwiththegoldenorioleaboutherhead,goodSt。Joseph,thethreeKings;

  thesimpleShepherdskneelinginthefields,whileAngelswithgloriesabouttheirbrowcalledtothepoorPeasantsfromtheblueskyabove。But,mostbeautifulofallwasthepictureoftheChristChildlyinginthemanger,withthemild—eyedKinegazingathim。

  SometimestheoldAbbotwouldunlocktheiron—boundchestwherethesetreasureslayhidden,andcarefullyandlovinglybrushingthefewgrainsofdustfromthem,wouldlaythemuponthetablebesidetheorielwindowinfrontofhislittlenamesake,allowingthelittleboyfreedomtoturntheleavesashechose。

  AlwaysitwasonepicturethatlittleOttosought;theChristChildinthemanger,withtheVirgin,St。Joseph,theShepherds,andtheKine。Andashewouldhangbreathlesslygazingandgazinguponit,theoldAbbotwouldsitwatchinghimwithafaint,half—sadsmileflickeringaroundhisthinlipsandhispale,narrowface。

  Itwasapleasant,peacefullife,butby—and—bytheendcame。

  Ottowasnownearlytwelveyearsold。

  Onebright,clearday,nearthehourofnoon,littleOttoheardtheporter’sbellsoundingbelowinthecourt—yard—dong!dong!

  BrotherEmmanuelhadbeenappointedastheboy’sinstructor,andjustthenOttowasconninghislessonsinthegoodmonk’scell。

  Nevertheless,atthesoundofthebellheprickeduphisearsandlistened,foravisitorwasastrangematterinthatout—of—

  the—wayplace,andhewonderedwhoitcouldbe。So,whilehiswitswanderedhislessonslagged。

  \"PosteraPhoebalustrabatlampadeterras,\"continuedBrotherEmmanuel,inexorablyrunninghishornyfinger—nailbeneaththeline,\"humentemqueAurorapolodimoveratumbram—\"thelessondraggedalong。

  Justthenasandaledfootstepsoundedwithout,inthestonecorridor,andalighttapfelluponBrotherEmmanuel’sdoor。ItwasBrotherIgnatius,andtheAbbotwishedlittleOttotocometotherefectory。

  Astheycrossedthecourt—yardOttostaredtoseeagroupofmail—cladmen—at—arms,somesittingupontheirhorses,somestandingbythesaddle—bow。\"Yonderistheyoungbaron,\"heheardoneofthemsayinagruffvoice,andthereuponallturnedandstaredathim。

  Astrangerwasintherefectory,standingbesidethegoodoldAbbot,whilefoodandwinewerebeingbroughtandsetuponthetableforhisrefreshment;agreat,tall,broad—shoulderedman,besidewhomtheAbbotlookedthinnerandslighterthanever。

  Thestrangerwascladallinpolishedandgleamingarmor,ofplateandchain,overwhichwasdrawnalooserobeofgraywoollenstuff,reachingtothekneesandboundaboutthewaistbyabroadleathernsword—belt。Uponhisarmhecarriedagreathelmetwhichhehadjustremovedfromhishead。Hisfacewasweather—beatenandrugged,andonlipandchinwasawiry,bristlingbeard;oncered,nowfrostedwithwhite。

  BrotherIgnatiushadbiddenOttotoenter,andhadthenclosedthedoorbehindhim;andnow,astheladwalkedslowlyupthelongroom,hegazedwithround,wonderingblueeyesatthestranger。

  \"DostknowwhoIam,Otto?saidthemail—cladknight,inadeep,growlingvoice。

  \"Methinksyouaremyfather,sir,\"saidOtto。

  \"Aye,thouartright,\"saidBaronConrad,\"andIamgladtoseethatthesemilk—churningmonkshavenotallowedtheetoforgetme,andwhothouartthyself。\"

  \"An’itpleaseyou,\"saidOtto,\"noonechurnethmilkherebutBrotherFritz;webemakersofwineandnotmakersofbutter,atSt。Michaelsburg。\"

  BaronConradbrokeintoagreat,loudlaugh,butAbbotOtto’ssadandthoughtfulfacelitupwithnoshadowofanansweringsmile。

  \"Conrad,\"saidhe,turningtotheother,\"againletmeurgethee;donottakethechildhence,hislifecanneverbeyourlife,forheisnotfittedforit。Ihadthought,\"saidhe,afteramoment’spause,\"Ihadthoughtthatthouhadstmeanttoconsecratehim—thismotherlessone—tothecareoftheUniversalMotherChurch。\"

  \"So!\"saidtheBaron,\"thouhadstthoughtthat,hadstthou?ThouhadstthoughtthatIhadintendedtodeliveroverthisboy,thelastoftheVuelphs,tothearmsoftheChurch?Whatthenwastobecomeofournameandthegloryofourraceifitwastoendwithhiminamonastery?No,DrachenhausenisthehomeoftheVuelphs,andtherethelastoftheraceshallliveashissireshavelivedbeforehim,holdingtohisrightsbythepowerandthemightofhisrighthand。\"

  TheAbbotturnedandlookedattheboy,whowasgapinginsimplewide—eyedwondermentfromonetotheotherastheyspoke。

  \"Anddostthouthink,Conrad,\"saidtheoldman,inhisgentle,patientvoice,\"thatthatpoorchildcanmaintainhisrightsbythestrengthofhisrighthand?\"

  TheBaron’slookfollowedtheAbbot’s,andhesaidnothing。

  Inthefewsecondsofsilencethatfollowed,littleOtto,inhissimplemind,waswonderingwhatallthistalkportended。WhyhadhisfathercomehithertoSt。Michaelsburg,lightingupthedimsilenceofthemonasterywiththeflashandringofhispolishedarmor?Whyhadhetalkedaboutchurningbutterbutnow,whenalltheworldknewthatthemonksofSt。Michaelsburgmadewine。

  ItwasBaronConrad’sdeepvoicethatbrokethelittlepauseofsilence。

  \"Ifyouhavemadeamilkmaidoftheboy,\"heburstoutatlast,\"Ithankthedearheaventhatthereisyettimetoundoyourworkandtomakeamanofhim。\"

  TheAbbotsighed。\"Thechildisyours,Conrad,\"saidhe,\"thewilloftheblessedsaintsbedone。MayhapifhegoestodwellatDrachenhausenhemaymakeyouthebetterinsteadofyoumakinghimtheworse。\"

  ThenlightcametothedarknessoflittleOtto’swonderment;hesawwhatallthistalkmeantandwhyhisfatherhadcomehither。

  Hewastoleavethehappy,sunnysilenceofthedearWhiteCross,andtogooutintothatgreatworldthathehadsooftenlookeddownuponfromthehighwindybelfryonthesteephillside。

  VI。

  HowOttoLivedintheDragon’sHouse。

  ThegatesoftheMonasterystoodwideopen,theworldlaybeyond,andallwasreadyfordeparture。BaronConradandhismen—at—armssatfootinstirrup,themilk—whitehorsethathadbeenbroughtforOttostoodwaitingforhimbesidehisfather’sgreatcharger。

  \"Farewell,Otto,\"saidthegoodoldAbbot,ashestoopedandkissedtheboy’scheek。

  \"Farewell,\"answeredOtto,inhissimple,quietway,anditbroughtapangtotheoldman’sheartthatthechildshouldseemtogrievesolittleattheleave—taking。

  \"Farewell,Otto,\"saidthebrethrenthatstoodabout,\"farewell,farewell。\"

  ThenpoorbrotherJohncameforwardandtooktheboy’shand,andlookedupintohisfaceashesatuponhishorse。\"Wewillmeetagain,\"saidhe,withhisstrange,vacantsmile,\"butmaybeitwillbeinParadise,andthereperhapstheywillletuslieinthefather’sbelfry,andlookdownupontheangelsinthecourt—

  yardbelow。\"

  \"Aye,\"answeredOtto,withanansweringsmile。

  \"Forward,\"criedtheBaron,inadeepvoice,andwithaclashofhoofsandjingleofarmortheyweregone,andthegreatwoodengateswereshuttobehindthem。

  Downthesteepwindingpathwaytheyrode,andoutintothegreatwideworldbeyond,uponwhichOttoandbrotherJohnhadgazedsooftenfromthewoodenbelfryoftheWhiteCrossonthehill。

  \"HastbeentaughttorideahorsebythepriestsupyonderonMichaelsburg?\"askedtheBaron,whentheyhadreachedthelevelroad。

  \"Nay,\"saidOtto;\"wehadnohorsetoride,butonlytobringintheharvestorthegrapesfromthefurthervineyardstothevintage。\"

  \"Prut,\"saidtheBaron,\"methoughttheabbotwouldhavehadenoughofthebloodofolddaysinhisveinstohavetaughttheewhatisfittingforaknighttoknow;artnotafeared?\"

  \"Nay,\"saidOtto,withasmile,\"Iamnotafeared。\"

  \"ThereatleastthoushowestthyselfaVuelph,\"saidthegrimBaron。ButperhapsOtto’sthoughtoffearandBaronConrad’sthoughtoffearweretwoverydifferentmatters。

  Theafternoonhadpassedbythetimetheyhadreachedtheendoftheirjourney。Upthesteep,stonypaththeyrodetothedrawbridgeandthegreatgapinggatewayofDrachenhausen,wherewallandtowerandbattlementlookeddarkerandmoreforbiddingthaneverinthegraytwilightofthecomingnight。LittleOttolookedupwithgreat,wondering,awe—struckeyesatthisgrimnewhomeofhis。

  Thenextmomenttheyclatteredoverthedrawbridgethatspannedthenarrowblackgulphbetweentheroadwayandthewall,andthenextwerepasttheechoingarchofthegreatgatewayandinthegraygloamingofthepavedcourt—yardwithin。

  Ottolookedarounduponthemanyfacesgatheredtheretocatchthefirstsightofthelittlebaron;hard,ruggedfaces,seamedandweather—beaten;verydifferentfromthoseofthegentlebrethrenamongwhomhehadlived,anditseemedstrangetohimthattherewasnonetherewhomheshouldknow。

  Asheclimbedthesteep,stonystepstothedooroftheBaron’shouse,oldUrselacamerunningdowntomeethim。Sheflungherwitheredarmsaroundhimandhuggedhimclosetoher。\"Mylittlechild,\"shecried,andthenfelltosobbingasthoughherheartwouldbreak。

  \"Hereissomeoneknowethme,\"thoughtthelittleboy。

  HisnewhomewasallverystrangeandwonderfultoOtto;thearmors,thetrophies,theflags,thelonggallerieswiththeirrangesofrooms,thegreathallbelowwithitsvaultedroofanditsgreatfireplaceofgrotesquelycarvedstone,andallthestrangepeoplewiththeirlivesandthoughtssodifferentfromwhathehadbeenusedtoknow。

  Anditwasawonderfulthingtoexploreallthestrangeplacesinthedarkoldcastle;placeswhereitseemedtoOttonoonecouldhaveeverbeenbefore。

  Oncehewandereddownalong,darkpassagewaybelowthehall,pushedopenanarrow,iron—boundoakendoor,andfoundhimselfallatonceinastrangenewland;thegraylight,cominginthrougharangeoftall,narrowwindows,felluponarowofsilent,motionlessfigurescarveninstone,knightsandladiesinstrangearmoranddress;eachlyinguponhisorherstonycouchwithclaspedhands,andgazingwithfixed,motionless,stonyeyeballsupintothegloomy,vaultedarchabovethem。

  Therelay,inacold,silentrow,alloftheVuelphswhohaddiedsincetheancientcastlehadbeenbuilt。

  ItwasthechapelintowhichOttohadmadehisway,nowlongsincefallenoutofuseexceptingasaburialplaceoftherace。

  Atanothertimeheclamberedupintotheloftunderthehighpeakedroof,wherelaynumberlessforgottenthingscoveredwiththedimdustofyears。Thereaflockofpigeonshadmadetheirroost,andflappednoisilyoutintothesunlightwhenhepushedopenthedoorfrombelow。Herehehuntedamongthemoulderingthingsofthepastuntil,oh,joyofjoys!inanancientoakenchesthefoundagreatlotofworm—eatenbooks,thathadbelongedtosomeoldchaplainofthecastleindaysgoneby。

  Theywerenotpreciousandbeautifulvolumes,suchastheFatherAbbothadshowedhim,butallthesametheyhadtheirquaintpaintedpicturesoftheblessedsaintsandangels。

  Again,atanothertime,goingintothecourt—yard,OttohadfoundthedoorofMelchior’stowerstandinginvitinglyopen,foroldHilda,SchwartzCarl’swife,hadcomedownbelowuponsomebusinessorother。

  ThenupontheshakywoodenstepsOttoranwithoutwaitingforasecondthought,forhehadoftengazedatthosecuriousbuildingshangingsofarupintheair,andhadwonderedwhattheywerelike。RoundandroundandupandupOttoclimbed,untilhisheadspun。Atlasthereachedalanding—stage,andgazingovertheedgeanddown,beheldthestonepavementfar,farbelow,litbyafaintglimmeroflightthatenteredthroughthearcheddoorway。Ottoclutchedtightholdofthewoodenrail,hehadnothoughtthathehadclimbedsofar。

  Upontheothersideofthelandingwasawindowthatpiercedthethickstonewallsofthetower;outofthewindowhelooked,andthendrewsuddenlybackagainwithagasp,foritwasthroughtheouterwallhepeered,anddown,downbelowinthedizzydepthshesawthehardgrayrocks,wheretheblackswine,lookingnolargerthanantsinthedistance,fedupontherefusethrownoutoverthewallsofthecastle。Therelaythemovingtree—topslikeabillowygreensea,andthecoarsethatchedroofsofthepeasantcottages,roundwhichcrawledthelittlechildrenliketinyhumanspecks。

  ThenOttoturnedandcreptdownthestairs,frightenedattheheighttowhichhehadclimbed。

点击下载App,搜索"Otto Of the Silver Hand",免费读到尾