German fiction -- Translations into English; Holy Roman Empire -- History -- Charles V, 1519-1556 -- Fiction
But the mistress of the house gave him no time to renew the relations
of childhood, and led her away from him to her husband and her
mother-in-law, a woman of ninety, to whom she presented her with kind,
nay, with extremely flattering, words. Barbara lowered her eyes in
confusion, and did not see how, at her entrance, Wolf’s face had
blanched and old Frau Hiltner had sat up in her cushioned arm-chair at
the window to look her sharply and fixedly in the eyes with the freedom
of age.
Meanwhile the man from the hall had stationed himself beside the door
in the same attitude, with his hands clasped under his chin and his cap
between his breast and arm, and stood motionless. He did not appear to
be at ease, and gnawed his thick lower lip with a troubled look as he
occasionally cast a glance at the strong countenance of Martin Luther,
whose portrait, the size of life, gazed at him from its gilt frame on
the opposite wall.
Barbara did not regain complete self-control until the syndic asked his
errand.
The man in the brown doublet was Brother Cassian, the body servant of
the Emperor’s confessor. He now unclasped his hands to grasp the cap
under his arm, which he twirled awkwardly in his fingers while saying,
in a rapid, expressionless tone, as though he were repeating a lesson,
that he had come to summon Wolf Hartschwert to the Queen of Hungary,
with whom he must set out for Brussels early the next morning.
Barbara then remarked in a subdued tone that she had come here for the
same purpose, and also for another-to shake hands with the playmate of
her childhood, because she probably would not see him again before his
departure.
Wolf listened to this statement in surprise, and then told the messenger
that he would obey her Majesty’s command.
“Obey the command,” Cassian repeated, according to his servant custom.
Then he was about to retire, but Frau Sabina had filled a goblet with
wine for him, and Martina, according too an old custom of the family,
offered it to the messenger.
But, much as Cassian liked the juice of the grape, he waved back the
kindly meant gift of the mistress of the house with a hoarse “No, no!”
and shaking his head, turned on his heel, and without a word of thanks
or farewell left the room.
“The heretic’s wine,” observed Dr. Hiltner, shrugging his shoulders
regretfully, and then asked Wolf, “Do you know the queer fellow?”
“The body servant of the almoner, Pedro de Soto,” was the reply. The
bang of the closed outer door was heard at the same moment, for Cassian
had rushed into the open air as fast as his feet would carry him. After
leaving part of the street behind him, he stopped, and with a loud
“B-r-r-r!” shook himself like a poodle that has just come out of the
water.
Into what an abominable heretic house Master Adrian had sent him!
To despatch a good Christian to such an unclean hole!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account