Austria -- Fiction; Devil -- Fiction; Middle Ages -- Fiction
Marget was troubled at times, and pursued Ursula with questions to
an uncomfortable degree; but Ursula stood her ground and stuck to it
that it was Providence, and said no word about the cat. Marget knew
that nothing was impossible to Providence, but she could not help
having doubts that this effort was from there, though she was afraid
to say so, lest disaster come of it. Witchcraft occurred to her, but
she put the thought aside, for this was before Gottfried joined the
household, and she knew Ursula was pious and a bitter hater of witches.
By the time Gottfried arrived Providence was established, unshakably
intrenched, and getting all the gratitude. The cat made no murmur, but
went on composedly improving in style and prodigality by experience.
In any community, big or little, there is always a fair proportion
of people who are not malicious or unkind by nature, and who never
do unkind things except when they are overmastered by fear, or when
their self-interest is greatly in danger, or some such matter as that.
Eseldorf had its proportion of such people, and ordinarily their good
and gentle influence was felt, but these were not ordinary times--on
account of the witch-dread--and so we did not seem to have any gentle
and compassionate hearts left, to speak of. Every person was frightened
at the unaccountable state of things at Marget’s house, not doubting
that witchcraft was at the bottom of it, and fright frenzied their
reason. Naturally there were some who pitied Marget and Ursula for the
danger that was gathering about them, but naturally they did not say
so; it would not have been safe. So the others had it all their own
way, and there was none to advise the ignorant girl and the foolish
woman and warn them to modify their doings. We boys wanted to warn
them, but we backed down when it came to the pinch, being afraid. We
found that we were not manly enough nor brave enough to do a generous
action when there was a chance that it could get us into trouble.
Neither of us confessed this poor spirit to the others, but did as
other people would have done--dropped the subject and talked about
something else. And I knew we all felt mean, eating and drinking
Marget’s fine things along with those companies of spies, and petting
her and complimenting her with the rest, and seeing with self-reproach
how foolishly happy she was, and never saying a word to put her on her
guard. And, indeed, she was happy, and as proud as a princess, and so
grateful to have friends again. And all the time these people were
watching with all their eyes and reporting all they saw to Father Adolf.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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