The Dove in the Eagles Nest | Page 9

replied Master Gottfried, in his cheery fearless voice;
"he brought us a choice gift last time he came; and it may be he is ready
to seek peace among us after his wanderings. Come hither, Christina,
my little one; it is well to be abashed, but thou art not a child who need
fear to meet a father."
Christina's extreme timidity, however, made her pale and crimson by
turns, perhaps by the infection of anxiety from her aunt, who could not
conceal a certain dissatisfaction and alarm, as the maiden, led on either
side by her adopted parents, thus advanced from the little studio into a

handsomely-carved wooden gallery, projecting into a great wainscoated
room, with a broad carved stair leading down into it. Down this stair
the three proceeded, and reached the stone hall that lay beyond it, just
as there entered from the trellised porch, that covered the steps into the
street, a thin wiry man, in a worn and greasy buff suit, guarded on the
breast and arms with rusty steel, and a battered helmet with the vizor up,
disclosing a weather- beaten bronzed face, with somewhat wild dark
eyes, and a huge grizzled moustache forming a straight line over his
lips. Altogether he was a complete model of the lawless Reiter or
Lanzknecht, the terror of Swabia, and the bugbear of Christina's
imagination. The poor child's heart died within her as she perceived the
mutual recognition between her uncle and the new comer; and, while
Master Gottfried held out his hands with a cordial greeting of
"Welcome, home, brother Hugh," she trembled from head to foot, as
she sank on her knees, and murmured, "Your blessing, honoured
father."
"Ha? What, this is my girl? What says she? My blessing, eh? There
then, thou hast it, child, such as I have to give, though they'll tell thee at
Adlerstein that I am more wont to give the other sort of blessing! Now,
give me a kiss, girl, and let me see thee! How now!" as he folded her in
his rough arms; "thou art a mere feather, as slight as our sick Jungfrau
herself." And then, regarding her, as she stood drooping, "Thou art not
half the woman thy mother was--she was stately and straight as a
column, and tall withal."
"True!" replied Hausfrau Johanna, in a marked tone; "but both she and
her poor babe had been so harassed and wasted with long journeys and
hardships, that with all our care of our Christina, she has never been
strong or well-grown. The marvel is that she lived at all."
"Our Christina is not beautiful, we know," added her uncle,
reassuringly taking her hand; "but she is a good and meek maiden."
"Well, well," returned the Lanzknecht, "she will answer the purpose
well enough, or better than if she were fair enough to set all our fellows
together by the ears for her. Camilla, I say--no, what's her name,
Christina?--put up thy gear and be ready to start with me to- morrow
morning for Adlerstein."
"For Adlerstein?" re-echoed the housemother, in a tone of horrified
dismay; and Christina would have dropped on the floor but for her

uncle's sustaining hand, and the cheering glance with which he met her
imploring look.
"Let us come up to the gallery, and understand what you desire,
brother," said Master Gottfried, gravely. "Fill the cup of greeting, Hans.
Your followers shall be entertained in the hall," he added.
"Ay, ay," quoth Hugh, "I will show you reason over a goblet of the old
Rosenburg. Is it all gone yet, brother Goetz? No? I reckon there would
not be the scouring of a glass left of it in a week if it were at
Adlerstein."
So saying, the trooper crossed the lower room, which contained a huge
tiled baking oven, various brilliantly-burnished cooking utensils, and a
great carved cupboard like a wooden bedstead, and, passing the door of
the bathroom, clanked up the oaken stairs to the gallery, the
reception-room of the house. It had tapestry hangings to the wall, and
cushions both to the carved chairs and deep windows, which looked out
into the street, the whole storey projecting into close proximity with the
corresponding apartment of the Syndic Moritz, the goldsmith on the
opposite side. An oaken table stood in the centre, and the gallery was
adorned with a dresser, displaying not only bright pewter, but goblets
and drinking cups of beautifully-shaped and coloured glass, and
saltcellars, tankards, &c. of gold and silver.
"Just as it was in the old man's time," said the soldier, throwing himself
into the housefather's chair. "A handful of Lanzknechts would make
short work with your pots and pans, good sister Johanna."
"Heaven forbid!" said poor Johanna under her breath. "Much good they
do you, up in