Hero Tales and Legends of the Rhine | Page 5

all, that is, but their hostess, who was angry and disappointed that he had said no word of the wealth and magnificence displayed in her palace, the rich fare on her table, and all the signs of luxury with which he was surrounded. At length she could conceal her chagrin no longer, and asked the stranger directly whether he had ever seen such splendour in his wanderings as that he now beheld.
“Tell me,” she said, “is there to be found in the courts of your Eastern kings such rare treasures as these of mine?”
“Nay,” replied the sage, “they have no pearls and rich embroideries to match thine. Nevertheless, there is one thing missing from your board, and that the best and most valuable of all earthly gifts.”
In vain Richberta begged that he would tell her what that most precious of treasures might be. He answered all her inquiries in an evasive manner, and at last, when her question could no longer be evaded, he rose abruptly and left the room. And, seek as she might, Richberta could find no trace of her mysterious visitor.
Richberta strove to discover the meaning of the old man’s words. She was rich--she possessed greater treasures than any in Stavoren, at a time when that city was among the wealthiest in Europe--and yet she lacked the most precious of earth’s treasures. The memory of the words galled her pride and excited her curiosity to an extraordinary pitch. In vain she asked the wise men of her time--the priests and philosophers--to read her the riddle of the mysterious traveller. None could name a treasure that was not already hers.
In her anxiety to obtain the precious thing, whatever it might be, Richberta sent all her ships to sea, telling the captain of each not to return until he had found some treasure that she did not already possess. The vessels were victualled for seven years, so that the mariners might have ample time in which to pursue their quest. So their commander sent one division of the fleet to the east, another to the west, while he left his own vessel to the hazard of the winds, letting it drift wheresoever the fates decreed. His ship as well as the others was laden heavily with provisions, and during the first storm they encountered it was necessary to cast a considerable portion of the food overboard, so that the ship might right itself. As it was, the remaining provisions were so damaged by the sea-water that they rotted in a few days and became unfit for food. A pestilence would surely follow the use of such unwholesome stuff, and consequently the entire cargo of bread had to be cast into the sea.
The commander saw his crew ravaged by the dreaded scurvy, suffering from the lack of bread. Then only did he begin to perceive the real meaning of the sage’s words. The most valuable of all earthly treasures was not the pearls from the depths of the sea, gold or silver from the heart of the mountains, nor the rich spices of the Indies. The most common of all earth’s, products, that which was to be found in every country, which flourished in every clime, on which the lives of millions depended--this was the greatest treasure, and its name was--bread.
Having reached this conclusion, the commander of Richberta’s fleet set sail for a Baltic port, where he took on board a cargo of corn, and returned immediately to Stavoren.
Richberta was astonished and delighted to see that he had achieved his purpose so soon, and bade him tell her of what the treasure consisted which he had brought with him. The commander thereupon recounted his adventures--the storm, the throwing overboard of their store of bread, and the consequent sufferings of the crew--and told how he at length discovered what was the greatest treasure on earth, the priceless possession which the stranger had looked for in vain at her rich board. It was bread, he said simply, and the cargo he had brought home was corn.
Richberta was beside herself with passion. When she had recovered herself sufficiently to speak she asked him:
“At which side of the ship did you take in the cargo?”
“At the right side,” he replied.
“Then,” she exclaimed angrily, “I order you to cast it into the sea from the left side.”
It was a cruel decision. Stavoren, like every other city, had its quota of poor families, and these were in much distress at the time, many of them dying from sheer starvation. The cargo of corn would have provided bread for them throughout the whole winter, and the commander urged Richberta to reconsider her decision. As a last resort he sent the barefooted children of the city to her, thinking that their mute misery would move her to alleviate