And striding on, he left the retainer holding his horse by the bridle
and staring after him open-mouthed.
XXV
HOW FATHER CHRISTOPHER SENT FOR ALBRECHT.
After Albrecht had been left by Erna in the corridor, he stood for a
space as if he had neither the power to go nor yet to stay. He was full
of jealousy and of fear at the thought of what might have befallen in
the wood, and the agitation of his wife showed him that though Herr
Frederich had failed of fulfilling his mission of evil, yet had
something unusual taken place there when the baron had not been present
to see. He had long understood that Count Stephen would fain win the
love of Erna, and mighty had been the struggle in his soul as he
questioned with himself whether in truth it would not be easy for the
knight to gain the love of a woman from one who had been born of the
wild race of wood-folk.
He went sadly and slowly back to his chamber, where the shadows
clustered as thickly as the trees in the forest, and there came to his
mind how the creatures of the wood, angry that one of their race should
have won a human soul, had been eager to give their aid to the schemes
of Herr Frederich; and anew there came over him a sense of the mighty
struggle in which he was engaged. The stinging taunts of the cripple
wounded him afresh, singing themselves over again in his ears as he
stood by his casement in the gathering darkness, looking out over the
mighty stretch of the forest. He recalled the cripple's threat that the
soul of Erna should be so dragged down by his own that they should be
lost together; and the twofold terror of bringing upon her whom he loved
the doom of eternal death overwhelmed him. The serenity which he had on
his knees won in the chapel deserted him, and he cast himself down upon
the rushes in agony of soul.
He hardly knew whether it was moments or hours that he grovelled in the
dust,--nor could he know that apart in her chamber Erna, too, had fallen
into a like abasement,--when the coming of a thrall disturbed him. He
started to his feet, and waited for what message might be come to him.
It had grown so dark that the glimmer of the torch which the servant
carried shone in a golden line beneath the door. Smoothing his
disordered hair with his hand as he went, Albrecht went to the door and
opened it. The glare of the torch blinded him so that for a moment he
could see nothing.
"If the gracious Lord Baron will," the thrall said, "Father Christopher
prays that he come to him with no delay."
Albrecht stood a moment in surprised silence. Then he recovered himself.
"Is Father Christopher in his chamber?" he asked.
"Yea, my Lord Baron," the servant answered.
"Give me thy torch," Albrecht said, taking it, "and I will go at once.
Thou need'st not come."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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