In The Blue Pike | Page 4

as she did then! But
that time was past. Her poor, sunken chest would no longer permit it.
Then she fancied that she was again standing before the judges, who
were called The Five.
Four magistrates sat with the Pfander--[Chief of police]--at the table
covered with a green cloth, but one, who surpassed all the others both
in stature and in manly beauty, was the selfsame Lienhard Groland,
who yesterday had led to the altar the wonderfully lovely girl who had
bewitched her. She felt how the blood had mounted into her cheeks

when she again saw him who could know nothing of her except that
she was a jade, who had stolen another person's property. Yet her
glance soon met his, and he must have been blind had he not read in the
radiant lustre of her blue eyes, which had early learned to woo applause
and promise love, what he was to her, and how gratefully her heart
throbbed for him.
After the other gentlemen had treated her harshly, and threatened to put
her in the stocks, he interceded for her, and entreated his brother
magistrates to let mercy, in this instance, take the place of justice,
because she was so young, and perhaps had intended to return the
rosary later. Finally he bent smiling toward his companions and said
something to them in a subdued tone. The voice was so low that his
intention to keep her in ignorance of it was evident. But Kuni's hearing
had been as keen as a bird's, and not a word escaped her. He could not
help regarding it as an evil omen for him and his young wife if a girl,
hitherto unpunished, should be plunged into disgrace and perhaps made
miserable throughout the rest of a long life on account of his wedding
procession.
How high her heart had throbbed at this request, and when it was
granted, the discussion closed, and she herself informed that she would
be set free, she hurried after her preserver, who had left the Council
chamber with the other magistrates, to thank him. He permitted her to
detain him, and when she found herself alone in his presence, at first,
with streaming eyes, she was unable to utter a word. He laid his hand
kindly on her shoulder to soothe her, and then listened to her assurance
that, though she was a strolling rope-dancer, she had never taken other
people's property.
Now she closed her eyes to have a clearer vision of the picture evoked
by memory, which rose so vividly before her. Again she saw herself
seize his hand to kiss it humbly, yet with fervent devotion; again she
met the patronizing but friendly smile with which he withdrew it, and a
thrill of happiness ran through every nerve, for she imagined she once
more felt his slender white hand soothingly stroke her black hair and
burning cheeks, as if she were a sick child who needed help. Later

years had never granted her aught more blissful than that moment.
As had often happened before, the memory of it overmastered her with
such power that she could not escape it, but recalled his every look and
movement. Meanwhile, she imagined that she heard his voice, whose
deep, pure tones had pleased her ear, alive to harmony, more than any
to which she had ever listened, counselling her to give up her vagrant
life, and again received his assurance that he pitied her, and it would
grieve him if she, who seemed worthy of a better fate, should be ruined,
body and soul, so young. Thus absorbed, she neither saw nor listened to
anything that was occurring near her or in the large room of the tavern,
but stood gazing into vacancy as if rapt away from earth.
True, Cyriax and the others had lowered their voices, for they were
talking about her and the aristocratic couple on whose wedding day
Kuni had stolen the rosary.
Raban, a tall, lank vagabond with red-rimmed eyes, whose ugly face
bristled with a half-grown black beard, had a few more particulars to
give concerning the bride and bridegroom. He wandered about the
world and, whenever he stretched out his hand to beg, gave the pretext
that he was collecting the price of blood required for a man whom he
had killed in self-defence, that his own head might not fall under the
axe of the executioner. His dead father had heated the furnaces in the
smelting works at Eschenbach, near Nuremberg, and the bride was
Katharina, the eldest of the three daughters of the owner, old
Harsdorffer of the Council. He had been a man of steel and iron, and
opposed Lienhard Groland's father at every point, not excepting even
their official business. When he discovered that the