Barbara Blomberg

Barbara Blomberg, Complete, by
Georg Ebers

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Title: Barbara Blomberg, Complete
Author: Georg Ebers
Release Date: October 17, 2006 [EBook #5571]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BARBARA
BLOMBERG, COMPLETE ***

Produced by David Widger

BARBARA BLOMBERG
By Georg Ebers

Volume 1.
Translated from the German by Mary J. Safford
CHAPTER I.
The sun sometimes shone brightly upon the little round panes of the
ancient building, the Golden Cross, on the northern side of the square,
which the people of Ratisbon call "on the moor"; sometimes it was
veiled by gray clouds. A party of nobles, ecclesiastics, and knights
belonging to the Emperor's train were just coming out. The spring
breeze banged behind them the door of the little entrance for
pedestrians close beside the large main gateway.
The courtiers and ladies who were in the chapel at the right of the
corridor started. "April weather!" growled the corporal of the Imperial
Halberdiers to the comrade with whom he was keeping; guard at the
foot of the staircase leading to the apartments of Charles V, in the
second story of the huge old house.
"St. Peter's day," replied the other, a Catalonian. "At my home fresh
strawberries are now growing in the open air and roses are blooming in
the gardens. Take it all in all, it's better to be dead in Barcelona than
alive in this accursed land of heretics!"
"Come, come," replied the other, "life is life! 'A live dog is better than a
dead king,' says a proverb in my country."
"And it is right, too," replied the Spaniard. "But ever since we came
here our master's face looks as if imperial life didn't taste exactly like
mulled wine, either."
The Netherlander lowered his halberd and answered his companion's
words first with a heavy sigh, and then with the remark: "Bad weather
upstairs as well as down--the very worst! I've been in the service
thirteen years, but I never saw him like this, not even after the defeat in
Algiers. That means we must keep a good lookout. Present halberds!
Some one is coming down."

Both quickly assumed a more erect attitude, but the Spaniard whispered
to his comrade: "It isn't he. His step hasn't sounded like that since the
gout--"
"Quijada!" whispered the Netherlander, and both he and the man from
Barcelona presented halberds with true military bearing; but the staves
of their descending weapons soon struck the flags of the pavement
again, for a woman's voice had detained the man whom the soldiers
intended to salute, and in his place two slender lads rushed down the
steps.
The yellow velvet garments, with ash-gray facings, and cap of the same
material in the same colours, were very becoming to these youths--the
Emperor's pages--and, though the first two were sons of German and
Italian counts, and the third who followed them was a Holland baron,
the sentinels took little more notice of them than of Queen Mary's
pointers following swiftly at their heels.
"Of those up there," observed the halberdier from Haarlem under his
breath, "a man would most willingly stiffen his back for Quijada."
"Except their Majesties, of course," added the Catalonian with dignity.
"Of course," the other repeated. "Besides, the Emperor Charles himself
bestows every honour on Don Luis. I was in Algiers at the time. A
hundred more like him would have made matters different, I can tell
you. If it beseemed an insignificant fellow like me, I should like to ask
why his Majesty took him from the army and placed him among the
courtiers."
Here he stopped abruptly, for, in spite of the gaily dressed nobles and
ladies, priests, knights, and attendants who were passing up and down
the corridor, he had heard footsteps on the stairs which must be those of
men in high position. He was not mistaken--one was no less a
personage than the younger Granvelle, the Bishop of Arras, who,
notwithstanding his nine-and-twenty years, was already the favourite
counsellor of Charles V; the other, a man considerably his senior, Dr.
Mathys, of Bruges, the Emperor's physician.

The bishop was followed by a secretary clad in black, with a portfolio
under his arm; the leech, by an elderly assistant.
The fine features of the Bishop of Arras, which revealed a nature
capable of laughter and enjoyment, now looked as grave as his
companion's--a fact which by no means escaped the notice of the
courtiers in the corridor, but