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Sidonia The Sorceress
By William Mienhold
VOLUME I
BOOK I.
CHAPTER XVII.
Of Ulrich's counsels--Item, how Clara von Dewitz came upon the track of the ghost.
At eleven o'clock that same night, the good and loyal Lord Ulrich arrived at the castle with Appelmann, from Spantekow, and just waited to change his travelling dress before he proceeded to the apartment of her Grace. He found her seated with Clara and another maiden, weeping bitterly. Dr. Gerschovius was also present. When the old man entered, her Grace's lamentations became yet louder--alas! how she was afflicted! Who could have believed that all this had come upon her because the devil, out of malice, had made Dr. Luther drop her wedding-ring at the bridal! And when the knight asked in alarm what had happened, she replied that tears prevented her speaking, but Dr. Gerschovius would tell him all.
So the doctor related the whole affair, from the declaration of the old nun to the hypocritical conduct of Sidonia towards Clara von Dewitz, upon which the old knight shook his head, and said, "Did I not counsel your Grace to let the young lord die, in God's name, for better is it to lose life than honour. Had he died then, so would the Almighty have raised him pure and perfect at the last day, but now he is growing daily in wickedness as a young wolf in ferocity."
Then her Grace made answer, the past could not now be recalled; and that she was ready to answer before God for what she had done through motherly love and tenderness. They must now advise her how to save her infatuated son from the snares of this wanton. Dr. Gerschovius, thereupon, gave it as his opinion that they should each be placed in strict confinement for the next fourteen days, during which time he would visit and admonish them twice a day, by which means he hoped soon to turn their hearts to God.
Here old Ulrich laughed outright, and asked the doctor, was he still bent upon teaching Sidonia her catechism? As to the young lord, no admonition would do him good now; he was thoroughly bewitched by the girl, and though he made a hundred promises to give her up, would never hold one of them. Alas! alas! that the son of good Duke Philip should be so degenerate.
But her Grace wept bitterly, and said, that never was there a more obedient, docile, and amiable child than her dear Ernest; skilled in all the fine arts, and gifted by nature with all that could ensure a mother's love. "But how does all this help him now?" cried Ulrich. "It is with a good heart as with a good ship, unless you guide it, it will run aground--stand by the helm, or the best ship will be lost. What had the country to expect from a Prince who would die, forsooth? unless his mistress sat by his bedside? Ah! if he could only have followed the funeral of the young lord, he would have given a hundred florins to the poor that very day!"
"It was not her son's fault--that base hypocrite had caused it all by some hell magic."
Ille.--"That was quite impossible; however, he would believe it to please her Grace."
"Then let him speak his opinion, if the counsel of Dr. Gerschovius did not please him."
Ille.--"His advice, then, was to keep quiet until the third night, then secretly place a guard round the castle and at the wing, and when the bridal party met, take them out prisoners, send my young lord to the tower, but disgrace Sidonia publicly, and send her off where she pleased--to the fiend, if she liked."
"Then they would have the same old scene over again; her son would fall sick, and Sidonia could not be brought back to cure him, if once she had been publicly disgraced before all the people. So matters would be worse than ever."
Hereupon old Ulrich fell into such a rage that he cursed and swore, that her Grace treated him no better than a fool, to bring him hither from Spantekow, and then refuse to take his advice. As to Sidonia, her Grace had already brought disgrace upon her princely house, by first turning her out, and then praying her to come back before three days had elapsed. All Pomerania talked of it, and old Otto Bork did not scruple to brag and boast everywhere, that her Grace had no peace or rest from her conscience until she had asked forgiveness from the Lady Sidonia (as the vain old knave called her) and entreated her to return. Now if she took the advice of Doctor Gerschovius, and first imprisoned and then turned away Sidonia, no one would believe in her story of the intended marriage, but look on her conduct as only a confirmation of all the hard treatment which her Grace was reported to have employed towards the girl; whereas if she only waited till the whole bridal party were ready to start, and then arrested Sidonia, her Grace was justified before the whole world, for what greater fault could be committed than thus to entrap the young Prince into a secret marriage, and run away with him by night from the castle? Let her Grace then send for the executioner, and let him give Sidonia a public whipping before all the people. No one would think the punishment too hard, for seducing a Prince of Pomerania into a marriage with her.
So the princely widow of Duke Philip will be justified before all the world; and when the young lord sees his bride so disgraced, he will assuredly be right willing to give her up; even if he fall sick, it is impossible that he could send for a maiden to sit by his bed who had been publicly whipped by the executioner. Those were stern measures, perhaps, but a branch of the old Pomeranian tree was decayed; it must be lopped, or the whole tree itself would soon fall.
When the Grand Chamberlain ceased speaking, her Grace considered the matter well, and finally pronounced that she would follow his advice, whereupon, as the night waxed late, she dismissed the party to their beds, retaining only Clara with her for a little longer.
But a strange thing happened as she, too, finally quitted her Grace, and proceeded along the corridor to her own little apartment--and here let every one consider how the hand of God is in everything, and what great events He can bring forth from the slightest causes, as a great oak springs up from a little acorn.
For as the maiden walked along, her sandal became unfastened, and tripped her, so that she nearly fell upon her face, whereupon she paused, and placing her foot upon a beer-barrel that stood against the wall not far from Sidonia's chamber, began to fasten it, but lo! just at that moment the head of the ghost appeared rising through the trap-door, and looked round, then, as if aware of her presence, drew back, and she heard a noise as if it had jumped down on the earth beneath. She was horribly frightened, and crept trembling to her bed; but then on reflecting over this apparition of the serpent knight, it came into her head that it could not be a ghost, since it came down on the ground with such a heavy jump; she prayed to God, therefore, to help her in discovering this matter, and as she could not sleep, rose before the first glimmer of daylight to examine this hole which lay so close to Sidonia's chamber, and there truly she discovered the trap-door, and having opened, found that it lay right over a large coach in the ducal stables; thereupon she concluded that the ghost was no other than the Prince himself who thus visited Sidonia.
Then she remembered that the ghost had been particularly active while the young Prince lay sick on his bed watched by his mother; so to make the matter clearer she went the next evening into the stables, and observing the coach, which lay just beneath the hole, sprinkled fine ash-dust all round it. Then returning to her room, she waited until it grew quite dark, and as ten o'clock struck and all the doors of the corridor leading to the women's apartments were barred and bolted, she wrapped herself in a black mantle and stole out with a palpitating heart into the gallery. Remembering the large beer-barrel near Sidonia's room, she crouched down behind it, and from thence had a distinct view of the trap-door, and also of Sidonia's chamber. There she waited for about an hour, when she perceived the young Prince coming, but not through the trap-door. He knocked lightly at Sidonia's door, who opened it instantly, and they held a long whispering conversation together. He had brought her the page's dress, and there was nothing to be feared now, for he had examined the trap and found they could easily get out through it on the top of the coach, and from thence into the stables. After that the way was clear. Surely some good angel had put the idea into her head. Then he kissed her tenderly.
Illa.--"What did the old nun come for? Could she have betrayed them?"
Hic.--"Impossible. She did not know a syllable of their affairs, and had come to ask his lady mother to send her a Popish priest, as she had asked himself." Then he kissed her again, but she tore herself from his arms, threw the little bundle into the room, and shut the door in his face. Whereupon the young Prince went his way, sighing as if his heart would break.
Now Clara concluded, with reason, that the young lord was not the ghost, inasmuch as he did not creep through the trap-door, nor did he wear helmet or cuirass, or any sort of disguise. But when she heard Sidonia talk with such knowledge of the trap-door, she guessed there was some knavery in the matter, and though she sat the night there she was determined to watch. And behold! at twelve o'clock there was a great clattering heard below, and presently a helmet appeared rising through the hole, and then the entire figure of the ghost clambered up through it, and after cautiously looking round it, approached Sidonia's door, and knocked lightly. Immediately she opened it herself, admitted the ghost, and Clara heard her drawing the bolts of the door within.
The pious and chaste maiden felt ready to faint with shame; for it was now evident that Sidonia deceived the poor young Prince as well as every one else, and that this ghost whom she admitted must be a favoured lover. She resolved to watch until he came out. But it was about the dawn of morning before he again appeared, and took his hellish path down through the trap-door, in the same way as he had risen. But to make all certain she took a brush, and before it was quite day, descended to the stables, where, indeed, she observed large, heavy footprints in the ashes all round the coach, quite unlike those which the delicate little feet of his Highness would have made. So she swept them all clean away to avoid exciting any suspicion, and crept back noiselessly to her little room. Then waiting till the morning was somewhat advanced, she despatched her maid on some errand into the town, in order to get rid of her, and then watched anxiously for her bridegroom, Marcus Bork, who always passed her door going to his office; and hearing his step, she opened her door softly, and drew him in. Then she related fully all she had heard and seen on the past night.
The upright and virtuous young man clasped his hands together in horror and disgust, but could not resolve whether it were fitter to declare the whole matter to her Highness instantly or not. Clara, however, was of opinion that her Grace would derive great comfort from the information, because when the Prince found how Sidonia had betrayed him, he would give up the creature of his own accord. To which Marcus answered, that probably the Prince would not believe a word of the story, and then matters would be in a worse way than ever.
Illa.--"Was he afraid to disgrace Sidonia because she was his kinswoman? Was it the honour of his name he wished to shield by sparing her from infamy?"
Hic.--"No; she wronged him. If she were his sister, he would still do his duty towards her Grace. The honour of the whole Pomeranian house was perilled here, and he would save it at any cost. But did his darling bride know who the ghost was?"
Illa.--"No; she had been thinking the whole night about him till her head ached, but in vain."
At this moment the Grand Chamberlain passed the room on his way to the Duchess, and they both went to the door, and entreated him to come in and give them his advice. How the old knight laughed for joy when he heard all; it was almost as good news to him as the death of the young lord would have been. But no; they must not breathe a syllable of it to her Highness. Wait for this night, and if the dear ghost appeared again, he would give him and his paramour something to think of to the end of their lives. Then he walked up and down Clara's little room, thinking over what should be done; and finally resolved to open the matter to the young Prince that night between ten and eleven o'clock, and show him what a creature he was going to make Duchess of Pomerania. After which they should all, Marcus included, go armed to the stables--for the Prince, no doubt, would be slow of belief--and there conceal themselves in the coach until the ghost arrived. If he came, as was almost certain, they would follow him to Sidonia's room, break it open, and discover them together. In order that witnesses might not be wanting, he would desire all the pages and household to be collected in his room at that hour; and the moment they were certain of having trapped the ghost, Marcus should slip out of the coach, and run to gather them all together in the grand corridor. To ensure all this being done, he would take the keys from the castellan himself that night, and keep them in his own possession. But, above all things, they were to keep still and quiet during the day; and now he would proceed to her Grace.
But Marcus Bork begged to ask him, if the ghost did not come that night, what was to be done? For the next was to be that of the marriage, and unless the Prince was convinced by his own eyes, nothing would make him credit the wickedness of his intended bride. Sidonia would swear by heaven and earth that the story was a malicious invention, and a plot to effect her utter destruction.
This view of the case puzzled the old knight not a little, and he rubbed his forehead and paced up and down the room, till suddenly an idea struck him, and he exclaimed--"I have it, Marcus! You are a brave youth, dear Marcus, and a loyal subject and servant to her Grace. Your conduct will bring as much honour upon the noble name of Bork as Sidonia's has brought disgrace. Therefore I will trust you. Listen, Marcus. If the ghost does not appear to-night, then you must ride the morrow morn to Crummyn. Bribe the priest with gold. Tell him that he must write instantly to the young Prince, saying, that the marriage must be delayed for eight days, for there was no boat to be had safe enough to carry him and his bride up the Haff, seeing that all the boats and their crews were engaged at the fisheries, and would not be back to Crummyn until the following Saturday. The young lord, therefore, must have patience. Should the priest hesitate, then Marcus must threaten him with the loss of his living, as the whole princely house should be made acquainted with his villainy. He will then consent. I know him well!
"If that is once arranged, then we shall seat ourselves every night in the coach until the ghost comes; and, methinks, he will not long delay, since hitherto he has managed his work with such security and success."
The discreet and virtuous Marcus promised to obey Ulrich in all things, and the Grand Chamberlain then went his way.