The Headsman | Page 8

Wagner! I can journey the darkest
night that ever threw a shadow from the mountains, any where between
the Jura and the Oberland, and none, shall say my word is to be
disputed. Look 'ee, there is the patron, Baptiste, who will tell thee, that
if he were to land the freight which is shipped in my name, his bark
would float greatly the lighter."
All this time Nicklaus was nothing loth to show his papers, which were
quite in rule. He even held them, with a thumb and finger separating
the folds, ready to be presented to his questioner. The hesitation came
from a feeling of wounded vanity, which would gladly show that one of
his local importance and known substance was to be exempt from the
exactions required from men of smaller means. The officer, who had
great practice in this species of collision with his fellow-creatures,
understood the character with which he had to deal, and, seeing no
good reason for refusing to gratify a feeling which was innocent,
though sufficiently silly, he yielded to the Bernese pride.
"Thou canst proceed," he said, turning the indulgence to account, with
a ready knowledge of his duty; "and when thou gettest again among thy
burghers, do us of Geneva the grace to say^ we treat our allies fairly."
"I thought thy question hasty!" exclaimed the wealthy peasant, swelling
like one who gets justice, though tardily. "Now let us to this knotty
affair of the headsman."
Taking his place with the Neapolitan and the Westphalian, Nicklaus
assumed the grave air of a judge, and an austerity of manner which
proved that he entered on his duty with a firm resolution to do justice.
"Thou 'art well known here, pilgrim," observed the officer, with some
severity of tone, to the next that came to the gate.
"St. Francis to speed, master, it were else wonderful! I should be so, for

the seasons scarce come and go more regularly."
"There must be a sore conscience somewhere, that Rome and thou
should need each other so often?"
The pilgrim, who was enveloped in a tattered coat, sprinkled with
cockle-shells, who wore his beard, and was altogether a disgusting
picture of human depravity, rendered still more revolting by an
ill-concealed hypocrisy, laughed openly and recklessly at the remark.
"Thou art a follower of Calvin, master," he replied, "or thou would'st
not have said this. My own failings give me little trouble. I am engaged
by certain parishes of Germany to take upon my poor person their
physical pains, and it is not easy to name another that hath done as
many messages of this kind as myself, with better proofs of fidelity. If
thou hast any little offering to make, thou shalt see fair papers to prove
what I say;--papers that would pass at St. Peter's itself!"
The officer perceived that he had to do with one of those unequivocal
hypocrites--if such a word can properly be applied to him who scarcely
thought deception necessary--who then made a traffic of expiations of
this nature; a pursuit that was common enough at the close of the
seventeenth and in the commencement of the eighteenth centuries, and
which has not even yet entirely disappeared from Europe. He threw the
pass with unconcealed aversion towards the profligate, who, recovering
his document, assumed unasked his station by the side of the three who
had been selected to decide on the fitness of those who were to be
allowed to embark.
"Go to!" cried the officer, as he permitted this ebullition of disgust to
escape him; "thou hast well said that we are followers of Calvin.
Geneva has little in common with her of the scarlet mantle, and thou
wilt do well to remember this, in thy next pilgrimage, lest the beadle
make acquaintance with thy back,--Hold! who art thou?"
"A heretic, hopelessly damned by anticipation, if that of yonder
travelling prayer-monger be the true faith;" answered one who was
pressing past, with a quiet assurance that had near carried its point

without incurring the risks of the usual investigation into his name and
character. It was the owner of Nettuno, whose aquatic air and perfect
self-possession now caused the officer to doubt whether he had not
stopped a waterman of the lake--a class privileged to come and go at
will.
"Thou knowest our usages," said the half-satisfied Genevese.
"I were a fool else! Even the ass that often travels the same path comes
in time to tell its turns and windings. Art not satisfied with touching the
pride of the worthy Nicklaus Wagner, by putting the well-warmed
burgher to his proofs, but thou would'st e'en question me! Come hither,
Nettuno; thou shalt answer for both, being a dog of discretion. We are
no go-betweens of heaven and earth, thou knowest,