Barbarossa; An Historical Novel of the XII Century.Bolanden, Conrad von
History
Barbarossa; An Historical Novel of the XII Century.
Bolanden, Conrad von
Germany -- History -- Frederick I, 1152-1190 -- Fiction
At this new mark of kind consideration, Bonello was about to utter
further words of gratitude; but the Count interrupted him by the
announcement that all was ready for their departure. They left the
tower, and entered the court-yard of the castle, where stood
Hermengarde's palfry, and a splendid courser for her father. The
parting between Bonello and the Abbot was touching; they embraced one
another, and the prelate returned to the camp. Pietro Nigri mounted
sullenly, glancing haughtily upon the young girl, and contemptuously at
her father.
"Farewell, lady," he said; "I wish you every happiness. As to you,
Sir," he added, "I sincerely trust that you may never have cause to
regret the life which you owe to a tyrant's mercy,--a life destined to
be passed unprofitably, for all that concerns the honor and well-being
of your country."
He dashed off before Guido could reply, and the others hastened to
leave the castle, where some of them, at least, had suffered so
acutely.
At the foot of the hill, they struck towards the south, and then
diverged from the main road. Erwin was anxious to please his guests,
and readily yielded to Bonello's guidance. The latter was perfectly
familiar with the country, and desired to avoid any meeting with the
Italian soldiery. For, though firmly resolved never to draw his sword
again, he was pained at the sight of so many Lombards hurrying to join
Barbarossa's legions and attack Milan, the most important bulwark of
Italian independence, so they took a cross road which speedily led
them to the summit of the plain. Every precaution had been taken
against the marauders who then infested the country. In front, rode
two men-at-arms; then came Rechberg, followed by Hermengarde and her
father, and four other troopers closed the rear of the escort.
"We must hasten," said Guido, "in order to arrive before nightfall at
the monastery of San Pietro; it will be sufficient for the first day's
journey, and by starting at dawn to-morrow, we shall reach my castle
before the evening."
Erwin had wished to learn some of the particulars about Bonello's
family, and he at once profited by the present opening.
"Only by to-morrow evening?" said he; "then your castle must be near
the Lower Alps?"
"In their very midst, Count; in the very heart of the Alps," replied
Guido. "If, as I suppose, you like mountain-castles, mine will please
you. Years ago, when I visited Germany, I used to admire your
fortresses perched upon the craggy peaks, like immense eagles' nests.
The evident disposition of the Teutonic nobility to shun the cities and
low grounds, and occupy the heights, is a mark of sound judgment. Our
ancestors, also, knew how and where to build their strongholds. Did you
ever see Castellamare?"
"Is that your dwelling?"
"Yes," answered Bonello. "The Romans from whom I am descended, erected
the fortress, and it has been in my family from time immemorial."
"Doubtless, during your absence, your son commands in the castle?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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