When death immortal stays the mortal pulse.—Lucretius.
When death immortal stays the mortal pulse.
—Lucretius.
When I write here that I slept until after the seventh hour—which was midday with us—I fear it may be thought I missed not much our sister and my Sonnlein, but I like not to be misjudged, for though I slept so long and even soundly, it was because of a healthy body and for the still better reason that it was the rule and habit of Brother and Sister, so far as we could school our weak, rebellious flesh, never to fret or worry or complain about anything, whether, as blind mortals regard things, it were good or ill.
But when I did get up stiff and sore, my first thought was of Sonnlein, hoping he had returned by now, but as I opened the door into hisKammermy hope sank within me as I missed not only his presence but everything else that would indicate he had returned during my sleep.
Inquiry among the Brethren confirmed my fears. He had not returned. No one had seen him since the night before nor had they learned anything of Genoveva among the neighbors. I reported first to our superintendent what Sonnlein and I had found and how he had gone on against my will, but I said nothing about my dread of the witch, for while I was sure she had something to do with our sister's disappearance, yet the footprints had shown some other than the witch among the captors.
Our leader at once called a meeting of the Brothers and the nearest house-fathers and set before them the substance of my report. It was soon agreed, as I had expected, that the red men had stolen our sister. But what was to be done was not so easy to decide. Even if the rain had not washed away the footprints none of us were sufficiently skilled to trace the savages. To make matters worse, this war with the French again aroused all the distrust our monastic mode of life so often inflicted on us. The old accusation was revived that we were Jesuits, through whom the French and Indians were continually receiving secret information that enabled them to perpetrate massacre after massacre with impunity. Indeed, so important in this respect did our enemies makeus and so bitter was the feeling against our little community that finally the governor of the province was actually prevailed upon to appoint a commission to inquire into these charges that rankled in our breasts in spite of all our humility and fortitude.
We could endure much in the way of false accusation, but we loved in our quiet, peaceful way our chosen home in this new world, and while, with our view of war, we refused to bear arms against the French and Indians, we were always zealous to do all we could for our province, and this we proved fully when in after years the colonies fought for independence we gave up freely of our property, never asking to be repaid therefor, to the cause of our beloved Washington—ever our friend—and not only our property and our services, but many a Brother and Sister cheerfully and lovingly gave up his or her life in nursing the hundreds of soldiers that lay dying of fevers in the halls and cells of our Kloster. It is for the sake of these dear martyr Brothers and Sisters I write this, which to others may seem idle boasting, but which is the glorious truth, as the records will show to him that careth to read.
The governor's commission came in due time and with great pomp and ceremony to our humble little camp, but as we hid nothing from them and answered freely and fearlessly the questions as toour mode of life, these gentlemen soon left, satisfied that we were not Jesuits nor spies—traitors, but were what we claimed to be, quiet, peaceful monks and nuns, serving faithfully according to our peculiar ideas the same God and the same country as those who were so unnecessarily alarmed about us.
But all the distrust and suspicion and hatred in the minds of those who would not have it other than that we were spies did not keep us from writing out hundreds of notices of the capture of our sister. These we spread as far and wide as the state of affairs would let us, and, as day after day passed without bringing to me my Sonnlein or any word of him, I also sent out notices of his departure.
In our great trouble it came to me that our justice, Brother Weiser, might help us, for not only was he ranger, taking care of all stray horses and cattle, but as Indian interpreter for the government in this cruel war he saw much of what was going on and of necessity met a great many people. Acting upon this thought, I sent him a letter setting forth in full about our sister and my boy, knowing our stern but great-hearted brother would make our loss his and leave nothing undone to restore to us our own.
But over a month went by without a word or sign of our lost ones and to most of us they were now as dead; but though my mind and heart wereoft assailed with a great dread that I should never again see my boy in this world, yet through all the dark clouds that hung over me there would now and then fall on me the bright sunshine of hope.
Another month went by. It was midwinter, and though I knew Sonnlein, like me, never made any great worry about the weather, no matter how severe, I could not help wondering where, if he were still alive, he had place to lay his head in all this broad earth.
While in this mood I received a long letter from Brother Weiser. He had as interpreter taken part in many negotiations with the Indian chiefs in various parts of the province. At every opportunity and wherever he had been he had sought information about Genoveva and Sonnlein. It grieved our brother much that he had been able to learn nothing anywhere. There had come to him strange tales from some of the Indians he had met about a tall, strong white man who was wandering from village to village and tribe to tribe seeking for his white squaw. The Indians had a name for him which meant one who wandered about searching without ceasing. There had also come equally strange stories to our brother of a young white hunter who was fighting among the hills and valleys of the Blue Mountains to the north and west beyond the block-house forts with untiring and savage ferocity against the FrenchIndians, by whom the young hunter was known as "The Firebrand," some of the Indians regarding him as mad for that he rested not night or day, as it seemed to them; that the savages believed he bare a charmed life and that all the red men feared him exceedingly. More than this our good brother could not tell us, but somehow it left no doubt in my mind that this young wanderer, this fiery hunter, must be none other than Sonnlein, roaming the wilds so far away in the undying hope that somewhere he would find our beloved Genoveva.
In this uncertain, harassing state stood the welfare of my Sonnlein and our sister, when one day thinking even more than usual about him, I found myself wandering along the banks of the now icebound Cocalico. Ere I knew how far I had wandered thus aimlessly I had arrived at the place where Sonnlein and I had crossed the creek on that awful night. I could see through all the ice and snow where the pool narrowed at the stony beach and on the opposite side some distance down the creek stood the old, dead tree from whose gaunt and gnarled limbs the owl had hooted to me to be of good cheer.
I crossed the snow-covered ice and slid and walked along the bank until I came to the old tree, where I paused for a moment to consider the direction Sonnlein had taken when he left me that night. And now, like him, I plunged into theundergrowth that overran the lowlands in this little valley of the Cocalico. Often I slipped and stumbled over some log or stone or brake through the snow into a hole or gulley, so that I marvel now I did not break my legs. The branches and the vines caught me about the arms and feet and more than once stung me across the face, but it seemed I had only a great overpowering desire to press forward in the direction I knew Sonnlein had gone.
In this wise I stumbled on in the snow for some distance without seeing any sign of any human being. As I stopped for a moment, nearly exhausted with my wild enterprise, to catch my breath, I gave a great start as I saw but a few paces ahead of me tracks in the snow, and which, as I hurried on, I saw to be the footprints of some grown person. The tracks were running directly across my path, and whereas I had been pursuing my mad course to the southwest, the footprints of this unknown person were pointing toward the southeast.
I had not the slightest idea that they were Sonnlein's and yet I know not why I suddenly determined to follow them. It may be that all unconsciously something told me they were the footprints of our Brother Alburtus who but a few days before had disappeared again from the community so that at the time in my own trouble I had paid little heed to his absence.
As I went on, the tracks, showing clearly in thedeep snow, left the lowlands for the hills, winding in and out among rocks and trees and bushes all the time going higher and higher into the mountains; and now and then I would see a little trampled space as if the unknown one had paused for a moment to rest, or, perhaps, to look down over the beautiful, snow-covered valley.
In this wise I went on and on until finally I was way up in the mountains that range themselves to the south of our Kloster grounds and, indeed, occasionally through the openings in the trees I could see Mount Sinai and the towers and roofs of our little monastery.
I believe I had gone but a short distance beyond my last view over the valley when suddenly I turned about sharply to my right whence I thought I heard a low moan. My next thought was that my fancy had played some trick on me, but as I stood in complete silence looking about in every direction I heard again this same sound as of one in pain, and as I pushed forward I noticed that the footprints turned toward the direction of the sound and I saw a large rock in front of me, the snow on it displaced and disturbed here and there as if some one had mounted it. I was about to scale the slippery height when again I heard the moaning sound so near I thought it must almost be at my feet and yet I could see nothing; but a moment later as I broke through a thicket I started back horrified to see at one side of this great rock the cloaked form of our Brother Alburtus prostrate in the snow.
Illustration."Again I spake to him. 'Dost notknow me, Brother Alburtus?'"Page 243.
Then as I rushed to him and lifted his head on my arm I saw the blood rushing freely from a long cut directly across his brow so that I might have thought the scar he so long carried had been opened by the force of some fall. I could see too, he had not been hurt long, for the blood flowed too freely for that. With the pity and horror in my heart was also a strong feeling of guilt that we had so carelessly let our brother leave us without following and protecting him in his aimless wanderings.
When first I lifted up his head I saw that he was unconscious, but I wiped away the blood as best I could and bound the ugly wound with pieces from my cloak, and then rubbed his face with snow. After a long while he opened his eyes and looked at me wonderingly.
"'Tis thy Brother Jabez," I said gently; but he only looked at me with meaningless gaze, his hands lying so still and helpless it would have rejoiced me to see him rub them together as of old.
Again I spake to him, "Dost not know me, Brother Alburtus?" But still he seemed not to regard my words, and leaving him for a brief space, fearing his lying in the snow would be his death even if the wound would not, I brake fromthe trees and bushes about me armful after armful of twigs and branches making a bed of them on the southern side of the rock where he would be sheltered from the cold winds and we could catch the warmth of the sun shining down through the trees. Then I dragged him tenderly upon his rough bed making him as comfortable as I could, rubbing his hands to warm them and then putting them within his cloak so they might not freeze, during all of which he seemed not to pay the slightest attention to me.
After a long wait he tried to lift his head, and I said to him, "Art feeling better, Brother Alburtus?" whereat he looked at me in great wonderment and said weakly, "Dost not know me, Thomas? Where am I? What is wrong with my head?"
"He mistaketh me for our Brother Thomas," thought I, and so I said smiling to him, "Nay, 'tis Brother Jabez; thou hast wandered from our Kloster and hast fallen from this high rock, Brother Alburtus."
But he only glared at me as he replied in such weak anger that my heart smote me, "Why dost thou torment me so, Thomas? Thou knowest I am David Seymour, thy own brother!"
"What meaneth he?" thought I to myself; "surely his hurt hath taken his mind from him so he knoweth not he is Brother Alburtus." Thinkingit best to humor him I spake gently, "Yes, 'tis thy brother; what aileth thee?" To which he answered feebly, "The tree hath fallen on my head; take me to the cabin to 'Lisbeth and the baby."
"Surely," thought I, "we know not what we say when the mind is wrong," but still thinking it better to humor him I merely said, "Yea, as soon as help cometh we shall carry thee to them," whereat he smiled gratefully and lay back more contentedly.
But though I sat and shivered by the side of our brother for hour after hour, sheltering him from the cold with my cloak, I could see as the afternoon wore on, and his sighing and groaning grew fainter and weaker, that his days were numbered, and so with the sun's setting behind the hills to the other side of the valley, there was opened for our brother's coming, not the door of his humble cabin but instead the ever-shining gates of those mansions beyond the skies He hath prepared for his well-beloved children.
But now that the spirit of our brother had left its earthly prison house, I stood for a few moments and prayed earnestly that his soul might see clearly that which on earth had been shown darkly as through a glass, to our bewildered brother.
Then it came to me like a great shock, what was to be done with his body? At first, it seemed to me I could not let it lie in these cold, drearymountains. And yet I could not unaided bear him to the Kloster. Neither was I certain I could find my way back on the morrow with the Brethren, for these hills were utterly strange to me. And yet, for such was my faith, though it may seem harsh to some, why could he not rest here as well as anywhere else? The imperishable, immortal soul had gone to its Maker; that which remained was merely the earthly shell that would mix with the elements, no matter where buried.
Much against my will I finally persuaded myself I must leave him in this wild, lonely spot. But I could not leave him exposed to the winds and the rain and the beasts of the woods, and yet I had nothing to dig up the hard frozen ground to make him a grave. And then just as I was about to give up in despair thinking I could do no better than cover him with brush, I saw a short distance farther up the mountain two long rocks, meeting at one end, but spread out at the other like a sharp angle, the opening toward me. Like a flash it came to me I could enrich these rough rocks by using them as a resting-place for Brother Alburtus.
I hastened up the hill and swept and scraped the snow out from between the rocks, making a bed of twigs on the hard earth. But it was no light task getting the great form of our brother up that steep slope, and more than once it seemed I must give up. But at last I did get him lyingsnugly between the two huge stones. Then I made a roof over him by laying heavy branches across the rocks, on top of the branches placing such heavy stones as I could loosen from the hard ground. In this manner I also closed up the end of my brother's deathKammer, and to help me find the spot, should I have call to revisit it, I rolled a large stone at the upper end of the little vault, and after a last prayer for the soul of our sainted brother, I left, sad at heart, but rejoicing I had been able to do these last honors for our dead.
It was dark when I started down the mountains and so rough and slippery was the way I had many a fall ere I reached the foot; but the longest and most toilsome way hath nevertheless an end, and though the night was well on when I reached my cell, I arrived none the less, safe and sound, only that our brethren were greatly alarmed at my absence, fearing I too had been captured by the Indians.
At the midnight meeting I recounted to my brethren the doings of the day, the death of Brother Alburtus, but not saying anything of his last words, requesting rather consideration as to what should be done with his body. As the greater part of us thought nothing could be done while the way was so rough and slippery with rocks and snow, we decided to let our brother rest for the time at least in his strange grave; but we held special servicesin his memory and in his cell we hung, as was our custom, a tablet, on which were inscribed in beautiful letters by the Sisterhood the words:
"Blessed in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints."
There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio.—Shakespeare.
There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio.
—Shakespeare.
Over a month had passed away since the death of our Brother Alburtus and his lonely burial far up in the mountain. My brethren, though at first of a mind to bring him to our little graveyard in the meadow, at last reluctantly came to my way of thinking that he should be left to rest undisturbed where I had laid him.
Often as the days came and went I wondered what Sonnlein would say when he returned, to find his dear Brother Alburtus gone. Oftener still in those dreary days I would ponder and puzzle over the dying words of our brother. I could understand how by the great shock of his fall hedid not know me, for I had seen more than once what a misty veil cometh over the sight of the dying so that they know not at all even their most beloved ones. But what I could not solve was why he called himself by a name I had never heard before. Was David Seymour his own, right name or the name of some friend of earlier days, and did our brother in his last moments imagine himself that other one? And 'Lisbeth and the baby, were these wife and child, or merely long-buried memories of acquaintances revived in the very shadow of death? With all my pondering and puzzling I could not solve the matter, and gradually it left me, though never wholly cast aside.
Indeed, with the wandering away of our Brother Alburtus and his dying up in those lonely mountains, and the loss of our Genoveva and my boy, my cup of woe was well-nigh running over. The winter was now on the wane, almost three months having elapsed since Sister Genoveva and Sonnlein had gone, and still we knew no more than when they left us; for though our justice kept me and our little Kloster in most affectionate remembrance, I receiving many letters from him in all his great work and responsibility, yet he had nothing to tell us other than not to lose faith and courage; and for this we loved him, even though he gave us no knowledge of our lost ones.
But surely it is cowardly and ungrateful in manor woman to complain because the infinite Father doth not always explain to our narrow, little minds why and wherefore he doeth this or that, for I have ever found that if one will but possess his soul in patience and cease repining and keep on doing his work all will come out right in the end.
So on a beautiful moonlight night, after I had retired to myKammer, shortly after the midnight services and had fallen into my usual sound sleep, I felt, or at first dreamt I felt, a shaking of my arm; but as I was about to turn over in my drowsy state, I received another shake of the arm, this time so decided I no longer doubted I was awake. As I sat up more frightened than I care to tell, I saw bending over me a form—surely it could not be! but then as I heard my boy call me, "Vaterchen," with such sadness and despair and weariness in his voice as I thought would make my heart burst with very pity for him, I clasped him in my arms and kissed him and wept over him as some mother over a long-lost child. Such a simpleton was I, as all will agree, and yet I doubt not I should do the same thing over again were there similar occasion for it.
I know not to this day whether or not my boy wept, but his voice was soft and gentle as a woman's as he said to me, "I could not wait till morning."
"If thou hadst let me sleep till morning andnot know of thy coming I would never have forgiven thee," I assured him joyfully, holding him by the arms. And then I turned toward the door of myKammer, and was opening it when he said, "Where art going? Surely thou'rt not tired of me so soon?"
"Nay, to tell our leader and the Brothers and Sisters of thy return. It were selfish to keep all this great joy to myself," and again I turned toward the door, first lighting my fat lamp; but then as the flame grew up I saw my boy was so faint and weak he would have fallen to the floor had I not caught him to me and helped him to my bench, making him as easy as our hard life would allow.
And surely I was well repaid for what I had suffered in all these months; for as I lay down on the floor of my cell—not finding it to my liking to let him go to his own—he whispered tenderly before he dropped off to sleep, "Thou'rt the same oldVaterchen;" and this praise, with my poor weakness for kind words, I held snug and warm in my heart for many a year.
Thus we both slept long into the morning, only for once in my life I slept not so soundly; for I could hear that Sonnlein was tossing and murmuring in his sleep, contrary to his former habit, for like me he had always been good at sleeping.
With the bright light of the morning I saw plainly now what his voice and bearing had toldme but faintly in the night; for as he lay asleep, stirring often uneasily I could see that he was but a mere skeleton, his face gaunt and haggard, with great hollows under the deep set eyes, and the beard he had let grow was tangled and unkempt. A sudden fear clutched my heart that he had come home but to die.
But truly the healing powers God hath placed in these bodies of ours are wonderful things to set us straight if they be given a chance to work in peace and quiet; for though I must spread the joyful news of Sonnlein's return to our leader and all the Brethren, not forgetting the Sisters, who were of a mind to make a great hero of my boy, and though the Brethren passed my cell more quietly than ever often during the day, not one with all the desire to give him greeting would disturb his rest; for he slept on until evening, not even waking ere then to take the lamb's broth our prioress had prepared for him.
But early in the night he sat up, and said, "Such a sleep have I not had for many a day."
"Art not hungry?" I asked anxiously, "shall I not warm this lamb's broth Mutter Maria hath made for thee?"
"Blessings on our good Mutter Maria!" he cried out with some return of his old, fun-loving spirit, "but if thou lovest me," he said, as he gulped down greedily the broth—and I dislikehasty feeding—"bring me the lamb itself, for I am hungry as a wolf."
And, indeed, when I did coax our good prioress to give me such a load of things as she declared was not safe to give him, it did seem to me as though I had food enough for ten men; but he merely smiled when I cautioned him against eating all this stuff, and in less time than I can tell it he had actually eaten up everything so clean not a crumb was left, so that I had not been surprised had he lifted the dishes to his face and licked them off, as he had often done in his childhood.
Thus for a few days I made him take abundance of rest and sleep, and between the Sisters and me he suffered not for food, but I refrained from asking anything of his absence, thinking it better to wait until he were more himself again.
But one evening, as we were sitting in myKammer, about a week after his return, neither of us saying a word for a long while—for with all his lively nature he was never so garrulous as I—not being able to curb my curiosity longer, I finally asked him, "What hast thou learned of our Sister Genoveva?"
"Nothing," he replied sadly, "though I have sought everywhere for her."
"Hast been among the Indians?"
"Yea, and more than one of the French devils hath gone to his long home," he replied savagely.
"Hast been among the Conestogas?" these being a peaceful Indian tribe living in a little town or village not many miles beyond Lancaster, toward the Susquehanna.
"I went there straight on leaving thee, for that way pointed the footprints."
"Could the Conestogas tell thee nothing?"
"Nay, could not or would not—I know not which—though a half-witted one whispered to me when he thought none could hear, that he knew where the white sister was; but on pressing him for fuller knowledge he merely pointed back toward the northeast, whence I had come, saying, 'Up, high, with old woman,' but I paid no great heed to him, for he was not right in his head."
"That night what didst thou make of the footprints?"
"One was Genoveva's, that was plain to be seen; the largest, an Indian warrior's; the third, a squaw's or young Indian lad's, I have never made up my mind which," and then he said nothing more for a long while, but at last he looked at me suddenly, saying as though much puzzled, "Would that I knew what the half-witted one meant; it hath been with me day and night lately, so that I had no other will in me than to come back, for it is in my mind that Genoveva, if she be still alive, is not far away." After a bit he looked up at me as though he were ashamed to ask, "Dost believe,Vaterchen, that if she be nigh her spirit hath called me back?"
To which I could only say, "I know not, though there be among us who claim they have had such communication, both with the living and the dead."
And then in all the simpleness of a boy he asked, "Dost think our sister was caught up into the heavens like Elijah?"
Ere I knew what I was saying I replied with some heat, for his question seemed like blasphemy to me, "Nay, nay, Elijah was a saint!"
"Dost mean Genoveva was not good enough to be taken up like old Elijah?" he cried out angrily at me, as he had never yet spoken to me.
"Quietly, my Sonnlein, quietly; my reply meant not that I think not highly of our sister; but though we have holy writ that Elijah was translated, yet there have been, as thou knowest, many good men and women since that time who have had to go to heaven by way of the gates of death. I do not think our Genoveva was taken up to heaven, and in this I mean no disrespect."
But he heeded not the gentle reproof in my voice, and after a while he asked, "Dost believe in the state of innocence taught by Brother Onesimus and his brethren while they were with us, and of whom thou hast told me so often?"
"Nay, I ne'er had much faith in their heathenish practices," I replied shortly.
Still he persisted, "They who pass through the ordeal of purification come forth with limitless vision and with mental powers unbounded."
"Who hath infected thee with this disease?" I asked crossly.
"I remember now that the day before Genoveva was taken from us Brother Benno, who was one of the thirteen that took the ordeal—and thou hast said thyself he was of the number—told me that since he had been purified he had often spoken to the spirit of his dead mother, and hath from here even seen his brother, who liveth in theVaterland."
"Brother Benno is an exceedingly pious man," was all I could say.
"Dost not believe he speaketh the truth?"
"To the contrary I should be the last to doubt his word; but in my short stay on earth I have heard pious men and women tell of things which to my thick understanding were not possible. It never seemed to me that man or woman could in the short space of forty days attain to physical and spiritual perfection. What I have seen of my fellow-man compelleth me to hold that even the longest lifetime is much too short for the making of ourselves in any wise so much as near perfect."
But he only replied slowly, as if not convinced, "Still Brother Benno may be right; at least it can do no harm to try."
"Try what?" I said very quietly to hide my dread his remark had put in me.
"The ordeal. I have tried everything else. This one thing remains for me to do."
To which I made stern answer, "All this nonsense cometh from the Evil One; thou art tired, discouraged, worn out in body and spirit. Rest for a few days, and with new strength and courage thou wilt have no inclination for such foolishness."
To which he made no reply, but I could see his mind was, with all his love for me, set on going through this pernicious thing. And that it may be known why I dreaded this ordeal, which I hoped after the Eckerlings left us would never be undergone again by any of us, I shall set forth the manner in which the neophyte sought first physical regeneration, in order that he might be properly prepared for moral regeneration, and thus attain perfection.
This was the way of it: the seeker for perfection must with a single attendant retire to a hut or cave in the forest on the night of the full moon in the month of May, and for forty days live thus secluded in fasting and prayer. No drink was allowed other than rain water which had fallen during the month of May. This and dry bread crusts were all the nourishment the neophyte could have. After being weakened by such rigid fasting for sixteen days, on the following day the recluse,that his physical nature might be further subjugated, had several ounces of blood taken from him, after which certain white drops were administered, though what their composition I never cared to know, only it was not poisonous, and for this remnant of good sense I give cheerfully to the originators of this iniquitous ordeal their proper dues.
Six drops of this elixir, which was prepared only by adepts, were taken at night and a like quantity mornings, the dose being increased by two drops a day until the thirty-second day when some more blood was drawn upon the rising of the sun, the seeker for perfection then retiring to his couch to remain there until the completion of the forty days.
At sunrise of the following day, being the thirty-third, the first grain ofmateria primawas to be taken, this being the universal and invisible principle out of which God made all things and which he had created to confer immortality upon man when first made in paradise, but which substance, by reason of man's fall, was lost to the race, only to be thereafter obtained by favor of such adepts as were within the highest circles of the Rosicrucian brotherhood.
My hope is that they who may care to read this tale will have more patience in the reading of this Rosicrucian folly than I have had in the writingof it; for surely, whenever I think of this worst of all wickedness inflicted on us by the Eckerlings, it requireth all the Kloster restraint and moderation to keep me from strong and strange words.
But spiteful words seldom cure things, so I shall tell of thismateria prima; for such was its power that the moment the neophyte took it he lost all speech and recollection. Three hours later convulsions and heavy transudation set in. After these subsided, the serving Brother changed the couch and a broth made from lean beef and sundry herbs was given. On the next day another grain of themateria primawas taken, in a cup of this broth, after which in addition to the convulsions and transudations a delirious fever would set in, which ended with a complete loss or shedding of the skin, hair, and teeth of the subject.
On the thirty-fifth day a bath of a certain temperature was given the neophyte and on the following day the third and last grain of themateria primawas taken in a cup of precious wine, after which the seeker fell into a gentle, undisturbed sleep, during which a new skin appeared, and also the hair and teeth shed two days before were miraculously renewed. On his awakening he was placed in an aromatic herb bath.
On the thirty-eighth day of the ordeal an ordinary water bath in which saltpeter had been dissolved was taken, the votary then resuming hishabit and exercising his limbs, and on the following day ten drops of the elixir of life, or "grandmaster's elixir" or "balsam" were administered in two large spoonfuls of red wine.
The fortieth day ended the period of perfection, and the votary being now restored to the state of innocence man had before the fall, left his hut or cell with the power to lengthen his earthly existence to the limit of five thousand five hundred and fifty-seven years, in perfect health and contentment.
After this came the forty days moral regeneration, which if successfully passed, gave the seeker power to communicate with the spirit world.
Small wonder that I was strongly set against this perilous and utterly foolish thing. But I found the next day Sonnlein was stubbornly resolved he would undergo it; and though I had great comfort in the thought that it wanted some months ere May were here, yet, even this solace was quickly denied me, as he declared his intention of suffering the purification at once. To this even our poor, benighted Brother Benno objected, for he held that the slightest deviation from the prescribed particulars of the process would render the whole without avail.
But as Sonnlein declared he would go off in the woods and take the ordeal himself—and I knew in his sicklied state he would do so—Brother Benno and I finally compromised with the stubbornyouth by going to "Ararat," the second floor of Zion, where Sonnlein took one of the thirteen cells for himself while Brother Benno and I each took an adjoining cell.
Here in this deserted old chapter house, relic of the pride and folly of the poor Eckerlings, we lived all alone for almost a week, and never in my life was week longer; for though Brother Benno and I attended all the services, yet the solicitude of the Brothers and Sisters was such—they believing that we had moved Sonnlein to the hill for purer air in his illness—that Brother Benno and I were not permitted to do any of our usual work.
This, indeed, suited our purpose most opportunely, for Brother Benno desired to keep constant watch over the treatment, while I was resolved to keep strict watch over my boy's safety.
Thus the first day, the second, and the third and even the fourth, and the fifth day passed, during all of which I was not permitted once to see my boy. Nor did I even hear anything, for Brother Benno and Sonnlein dared not so much as exchange a word. Only that on every opportunity I would seek Brother Benno and in a whisper, so my boy could not hear, would I get report of him, Brother Benno invariably saying Sonnlein was a most obedient votary and that he was in good health, though weak. Thus I allowed myself to become a sharer in this wicked thing.
But on the night of the fifth day, after coming from our midnight devotions, Brother Benno having given me his usual favorable report, I sought repose in my cell, though it seemed as I lay awake for a long time I could hear Sonnlein turning uneasily in his cell and murmuring continually in a great fever. Then for a long while all was quiet only that I thought I could hear him breathing heavily in his sleep. Reassured by this I dropped off into a heavy sleep, for in my anxiety I had kept vigil in myKammeralmost every night. It seemed to me I had not slept long, but I know now I slept almost until daybreak, when in my sleeping I heard a rumbling like thunder and then as a flash of lightning illumined my narrow cell, followed closely by a crash of thunder—for such storms have we at times even in winter—I jumped up fully awake and shaking like a leaf, though I never feared much the noise of thunder. And then without knowing what I was doing and heedless of Brother Benno's injunctions, I rushed into Sonnlein's cell, my heart almost standing still as I noted in all the darkness that he was gone!
I rushed madly for Brother Benno's cell, but my agitated steps had roused him from his slumber, and as I met him in the corrider I clutched him so that he shrank from me in fear as I howled at him, "Sonnlein, my boy, where is he?" and then ere my startled brother could reply I heard fromdown the meadows, mingling with the crashing and rumbling of the thunder Sonnlein's voice crying out again and again, "Genoveva! Genoveva!"
I know not how I got out of Zion or whether or not Brother Benno was following as I darted down the hill for the Cocalico, once in a flash of lightning imagining I saw my boy plunge into the creek for the other side. But though I ran to the spot in all the darkness and the storm and though I rushed wildly through the stream, and into the woods on the farther side, all the while crying out his name, I had no reply, and at last feeling now as though I had indeed more than I could bear, I returned half-dazed to my cell in Bethania, not wishing ever again to set foot in that house of evil on the hill.
Brother Benno informed all the Brothers and the Sisters that Sonnlein had wandered away in his sickness and though everybody in the Kloster and also the good neighbors sought most earnestly and lovingly, even wading the icy creek for him, thinking most likely he had been drowned, naught of anything was found of my boy.
In the meantime the wants of the body are also to be restrained and attention given so that the voice become angelic, heavenly, pure, and clear, and not strong and harsh, by a coarseness of food, and consequently prove valueless. But to gain the right tone, so that no unseemingly harsh screeching and creaking be heard in place of the proper melody.—Brother Beissel.
In the meantime the wants of the body are also to be restrained and attention given so that the voice become angelic, heavenly, pure, and clear, and not strong and harsh, by a coarseness of food, and consequently prove valueless. But to gain the right tone, so that no unseemingly harsh screeching and creaking be heard in place of the proper melody.
—Brother Beissel.
Surely God's ways for setting things right are not the ways of man's narrow wisdom! How often doth he take the lowly, simple, and even hideous things of earth to confuse the lofty and the wise whose faith and love have been weakened with much learning.
A number of weeks had gone by since Sonnlein had been swallowed up in the wilds, for in truth he could not have left less trace of himself than if the earth had opened up and engulfed him; but finally the mystery was solved, and if I comeslowly to the mark I humbly ask the forgiveness of all those who are not inclined to wait patiently for an old man's laggard step. Thus it came about. From the very founding of our Kloster we paid great attention to music, especially singing, and I would that I had time and space to write fully about the system of music invented by our leader, with the assistance of one of our housefathers, Ludwig Blum, who was a master singer and also versed in composition.
But as we had been careful in everything else to conform as little as possible to the spirit of the world, instead shaping ourselves in everything to the heavenly spirit, so also it was in respect to singing. As hath been said, "Musicam divini quid spirare," if she sounds out the praises of the Most High, for which purpose she is solely calculated; so that we like not to see her noble character abused by theatrical diversions and her heavenly sweetness marred by their curled compositions; for it is well known they sometimes dwell two minutes on one syllable which is nothing else than a great nonsense. We also held it to be a great mistake to join all sorts of instruments with vocal music, without consideration, thereby eclipsing the dignity of the human voice; for the human voice is a most noble instrument, by which man may reveal his most intimate recesses; for when God made himself known in his created work he spakethe word, "Let there be light," and surely it was far more sublime than if it had been announced with a flourish of braying instruments.
For this reason we at Ephrata did not concern ourselves greatly about instrumental music, though indeed, when our superintendent prepared our system of music he knew very little except some notes which he had learned on the violin; but such was our leader's genius and his independence of spirit and energy that instead of borrowing anything from the so-called masters he took his style from the music of nature, our singing, in a word, being an imitation of the Æolian harp. Naturally, 'twas a style very peculiar, as the worldly minded regard things, in concords and execution, the tones issuing from the choir like very soft instrumental music and carrying such a sweetness and softness and spirit of devotion as seemed almost superhuman to the listener.
To carry out this idea of the Æolian harp, the music was set in two, four, five, and sometimes even seven parts. All these, save the bass, which was set in two parts, high and low, were led and sung exclusively by the females, the men's voices resembling the deep tones of the organ and in combination with one of the female parts producing a contrast which was an excellent imitation of the hautboy.
And in the perfection of this heavenly art wespent much time and labor, for we felt that we were no greater than the angels, who themselves when they sang at the birth of Christ had to make use of such rules as we employed; and for that we held music was truly an angelic art our leader gave us very many rules, especially as to our diet, for the refining of our voices. The Brothers and Sisters being formed into different singing classes, were each put upon a distinct diet with the intention so to affect the vocal cords and mold them that they would give forth the required pitch assigned to each class.
Thus the diet for the bass singers was entirely different from that of the tenors, while the second bass and the baritone varied as greatly as that selected for the soprano and the alto, and it being absolutely necessary to know what sorts of foods quicken the spirit and make the voice subtle and thin and to the contrary make the voice coarse and sluggish and heavy, our leader took great care that all those selected to sing should abstain from the use of foods which in great injustice man is accustomed to take from the animals, such as milk, which causeth one heaviness and uneasiness; and cheese which maketh one fiery and hot-brained; and butter, which maketh one so lazy and stolid one desires neither to sing nor pray; and eggs, which awaken various and evil desires; and even honey was forbidden, for as our brother held thatthough this sweet essence of the flowers causeth light eyes and a cheerful spirit, it maketh the voice not clear.
Even among the vegetables we had not free scope, for beans came under the ban as being too weighty a food and making one heavy in spirit; but above all things our leader held that the spirit of this art since it is of such virgin purity can suffer no love between man and woman; for love in young hearts inflames them so exceedingly as to make the sufferers entirely unfit in mind and heart and voice and spirit. And, indeed, to this extent I agree fully with our leader, that people in love are not only useless for music but for almost everything else.
As to drink, our brother taught it had been settled long ago that in the straight path there is naught hath greater righteousness than the innocent, pure water just as it comes from the well, or made into soup to which a little bread was added. Otherwise, all cookery whereby water is deprived of its beneficent nature and changed by unseeming art into a sort of delicacy our leader ever regarded as sinful, an abomination of abominations.
After our leader had assumed the rôle ofCapellmeister, singing schools were held upon certain evenings in the Sister House, the sessions lasting four hours, during the third, fourth, and fifth, and sixth hours, corresponding in wordly time fromeight o'clock to midnight; and so on this night, the brethren being in snow-white garments, which our ruler insisted upon as representing the necessary purity of heart and mind, he himself strictly adhering to this, met us as usual at the low doorway of Bethania and led us in long procession to the SisterSaal, the Sisters proceeding thither from Saron in the same manner, led by the prioress. The Brethren as usual took their places, being divided in their respective classes about their proper tables on the floor of theSaalwhile the Sisters took the places set apart for them behind the latticed galleries above.
It was seldom we sang through an entire session of these evening schools that some brother or sister did not receive a severe scolding from our leader; for he ruled these classes with an iron hand, so that often there were bitterest dissensions where all should have been peace; for at the slightest sign of levity or frivolity there would descend upon the offender such an avalanche of rebukes and scoldings as were, indeed, hard to bear even by the meekest of us.
This night was no exception, for though we sang our hymns one after the other in the utmost peace and order until after the fifth hour (eleven o'clock), suddenly the storm came, for our sisters Keturah and Priscano, being so busily engaged in some, I doubt not, trivial talk, noted not as another hymnhad been taken up and was passing around the hall from one class to the other, that their response had come, and forgat utterly to sing, so that we all were fairly amazed, and sat with bowed heads for the blast we knew would sweep over us; and instantly it came, so fiercely that if one had not known our leader it might have been thought he were a man of the most violent and unchecked passions.
I had often heard him scold, and, indeed, had more than once felt the force of his temper in that I had never much voice for singing, and more than once was I rebuked for singing out of tune, which to our leader was as great an hurt as if one had stuck him with a sword, but this night so outrageous was the affront our poor sisters had given him he fairly seemed beside himself with righteous rage, so that, looking up at him out of the corner of my eye, his figure with all its insignificance of size seemed truly majestic.
I know not how long we had been compelled to sit there shivering and cowering like disobedient children, when suddenly we heard a voice, to me familiar enough, from the rear of the hall near the doorway, cry out half-sneering, half-snarling, "Thou fool!" Then as we all turned about, frightened almost beyond the telling by this unearthly voice, we saw crouching in the dark shadows about the doorway the form of her whom, though unknownto the rest, I knew well to be my old enemy, the witch; but from the terrified Sisters huddled together in the galleries and from the awe-struck Brothers below not a hand or voice was lifted against the apparition, even our fiery little leader for the once forgetting his anger and his fearlessness, making the sign of the cross on his breast as he shrank back from the menacing shape at the other end of theSaal.
For what seemed an age she stood there glaring at us. Then she straightened up straighter than I had ever seen her, and there was in her voice such unusual sadness and dignity and lack of hate I greatly marveled as she cried out, even pityingly, "Ye poor fools, to fear him," pointing her long finger at our leader, and then, breaking out more fiercely, she snarled, "How many homes have been destroyed by his false teachings! Oh, thou needst not threaten me, a poor, weak, crazy woman, thou brave giant!" she sneered at me as I started forward with menacing mien.
"What dost thou here?" and then a sudden thought flashed through me, our leader and all the brothers and sisters marveling greatly at this show of spirit in their meek Brother Jabez as I cried out boldly, "What hast done with our sister, thou she-devil?"
And then she forgot all her brief softness as she screeched back at us, "Ye fools, now ye knowwhat it is to have one stolen from ye," and then she snarled defiantly, "Come and get your sister if ye can, ye women-men!" and with this she rushed out of the doorway, leaving us utterly bereft of our wits.
But then I leaped for the doorway, our leader crying out, "Hold him; the witch will kill him!" but I shook off savagely the hands of the Brothers trying with great love of me to hold me back from pursuing the grisly shape, for now I was on fire with the resolve to follow and learn once for all where this being held herself and who she was.
Although the early part of the night had been dark, I saw as I burst out of the doorway that the moon had come up, making the Kloster grounds as bright as day, so that I had no difficulty in seeing the fleeing figure skirting the foot of Mount Sinai and speeding down the meadows along the Cocalico. I doubt not I could have quickly overtaken her, but such was not my purpose. I had but one thought now and that was to follow her to her retreat, and, having this in view, I rejoiced that the moonlight showed plainly the form of the witch. But the moonlight, if a help in this way, was a hindrance in that if she looked back she could not but see me even though I took advantage of the shadows of every bush and tree.
Somehow I was not at all surprised that she followed the course of the creek to the very spotwhere Sonnlein and I had crossed that night; but surely she would not attempt to pass over on the thin ice that still lingered on the pool ending at that stony beach where the swift stream had weeks ago worm away its icy covering! And yet so feather light did she skim over the thin, treacherous surface, and with such gliding, ghostlike ease, I was almost minded to give up the chase, fearing, though I had never believed such vulgar tales, she might fly away on a broomstick, or through some other hocus-pocus elude me and I make all my desperate endeavor for naught. And for all I knew she might, if pressed too hard, turn on me and change me into some vile beast, for I had heard of such things.
But not for long did I hesitate by reason of these childish fears. There was no turning back now, come what might. I placed one of my heavy feet delicately on the thin ice, and, then bearing on it my weight more heavily, I went through to my knees, almost falling full length into the pool, for the ice would not begin to hold my great weight.
There was but one way left, and, fearing I would lose sight of her did I pause longer, I dashed into the swift current below the pool with such hotheaded recklessness that ere I knew it and with all my slipping and stumbling I was safely on the other side, and though I wasted no time then in idle philosophizing, which hath ever been a weaknessof mine, I have often thought since and have come to the conclusion that there be times when one loseth all by dilly-dallying.
As I shook the water off me like some big dog I plunged into the brush with the same recklessness I had crossed the creek, though now my wet garments by their weight and their clinging about my legs impeded my progress almost beyond endurance; but as I stood panting and almost choking for breath I saw at no great distance ahead in a little, moonlit glade, mine enemy, still not looking back, so that I felt relieved to know she had not yet seen me.
On and on we went in this manner, she seemingly without effort, while I stumbled and fell repeatedly over rocks and gullies and fallen trees, yet beyond being severely shaken and bruised I received no great hurts. Of a sudden, as we reached the foot of the mountain she changed her way, hitherto toward the southwest, abruptly to the southeast, almost at the same spot I had come on the footprints of Brother Alburtus that sad day. She too, now as I continually kept nigh enough to catch sight of her among the bushes and trees, followed that same winding way up the mountain side, higher and higher. Once she turned half about and stood still as though listening carefully, and ere I could hide behind a tree I thought she saw me, but if so she gave no sign by hasteningher flight, if flight it could be called, for she appeared in no great hurry. But now and then she would turn sharply about and stand still for a moment as if listening, and always when I was in plain view.
We had now come nigh to the very spot where I found Brother Alburtus dying in the snow. Farther up the mountain I could see plainly his rocky tomb, and then, though I had glanced but a moment aside from my pursuit, she had completely vanished. I looked about me in every direction, but I could see naught of her, nor could I as much as hear the faintest sound. And then as suddenly as though it had come out of the earth, I saw on the top of that great rock whence our brother had fallen such a sight as for a moment almost benumbed me with fear; for there standing out clear in the bright moonlight was the tall figure of some dark being, so that my first overpowering fear was the witch had suddenly changed her human shape into that of the Evil One.
For a few moments I stood almost powerless with fear, the forbidding shape on the rock being also absolutely motionless, with its front toward me; and then, so that I have often wondered what it was gave me such unusual boldness, I felt a sudden strength take hold of me and such a courage as feared naught, as I cried out fiercely, "Be thou Belial himself, or the son of Belial, I shall fightthee!" and with that I tore from its earthly fastening a young sapling most like my wrist, and having twisted off the top I advanced threateningly with my club, at which the figure on the rock gave a most unearthly screech or howl, such as for a brief moment chilled my resolution; but on again I went, yelling back, "Thou mayest spit and snarl all thou hast a mind to, thou foul one!" as I crossed my breast, knowing that the Evil One ever feareth the sign of the cross.
Suddenly I saw the right arm of the dread figure draw back, and like a flash something came hurling at me that would have dashed out my brains had it not been that He who doth watch over his own had placed between me and my foe a small branch, light and trifling almost as air, and yet great enough in his hands to turn aside the missile, so that instead of catching me fair on my brow, it barely escaped the side of my head.
Tearing my cloak from me and tossing it and my club aside, I dashed ahead, and ere my foe knew it I was on the rock, and we were in each others' arms struggling with all our might to hurl the other down, and if ever I needed the great strength that so often in my life I had been foolishly ashamed of as being unworthy of my calling I needed it now; for whatever my antagonist was I speedily found it flesh and blood like myself; for that he was not burdened with much clothes aswas I, my hold often slipped from his greasy body as we rolled over and over, now I on top and then he, each grasping for the other's throat or trying to trip or throw the other down from the rock.
Surely my only salvation now was that in spite of my great love of books, yet have I ever loved the open air, and in my Kloster life was never afraid of my share of hard, daily toil, so that e'en now I felt that my foe, with all his strength and quickness, had not an easy task cut out for him. Finally I wrenched myself from his hold, and then, both breathing so hard it was no great difficulty to know we were in deadly earnest, we stood apart glaring at each other and waiting for returning strength to renew our fighting.
All the while I kept my eye closely on him, prepared for any sudden spring or trick that my sly foe might try on me, and now as we stood there scowling at each other I saw plainly if it were the Evil One he had assumed the form of an Indian. Neither of us said a word, but all at once I saw my dark antagonist draw himself together and like a stone from a catapult hurl himself at me; but that which was meant to overpower me by its suddenness proved my enemy's undoing, for—and I believe to this day Providence was with me—an old trick came back to me I had learned in my student days in the gymnasium, but of which I had no thought it still were within me.
And thus it was as my foe came flying upon me, I suddenly dropped on one knee, and ere he knew what I was about, I had caught him with both hands fairly under his middle, and then with all my power and strength gave such a mighty upward heave as with his own impulse threw him back over me so that he landed clean on the other side of the rock, where I heard him fall with a tremendous crash. And then, so savage is the human heart, I rushed to the edge of the rock eagerly hoping I had killed him outright. And, indeed, there he lay still enough, so that I knew whoever my foe had been, it had not been the evil one, for surely no mere man could kill Beelzebub.
As my breath and strength returned to me, though for a long time I was so weak in my limbs I could do little less than totter, I picked up my cloak and wrapped it about me; but with returning strength came a great horror that I had killed a human being, and unless one be of a gentle heart he knoweth naught what awful feeling possessed my soul as I thought upon my savage deed which, though I had done it in self-defense, yet seemed to me little less than murder.
For the time all thought of the witch was cast aside, my only fear being now that I had killed the Indian. I hastened to his side, and though I found him bleeding from some wound in the head, yet the violently throbbing heart told me there was lifethere so that my own heart leaped up with a great joy and hope I had not killed him; and—praises be to His name—as I knelt there anxiously waiting for return of sense to him, my red foe finally came to himself and sat up, holding his wounded head, which I had now bound up, and rubbing himself about his back and limbs so that I feared perchance these had been broken; but to my great joy—for now I thought no more of fearing him—from sitting up, he gradually, with many gruntings and groanings, stood erect as he could in all his weakness, and then, as he seemed for the first time conscious of me, he grunted in broken English, "Big woman-man, big chief; me only papoose; me go back to Conestogas and be squaw; white chief-woman must help self," and then before I could speak and ere my scattered wits knew what all this talk meant, he limped away down the mountain-side and was soon lost to sight.
Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.—The Bible.
Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.
—The Bible.
My vanquished foe had hardly disappeared down the mountain when I recovered sufficiently from my dazed state to recall the witch, who I feared had escaped me while I was engaged in desperate conflict with the red man. No man who hath not gone through such adventures can understand what a weakness and loneliness came upon me way up there in that wild spot, with no foe to fight or witch to pursue; for surely idleness afflicts one with many foolish fears and vain imaginings.
I crawled stiffly, now that I had cooled off somewhat, to the top of the rock and looked carefully in every direction, straining my ears for any soundof her; but I saw and heard nothing. I fairly groaned in my childish despair. It seemed to me I must find out this night the haunt of this sorceress. And then, as I jumped down from the great stone so heedlessly I almost fell, something leaped out of the dark shadow of the rock with such suddenness I shrank back trembling like a leaf; but as I saw, despite my shattered wits, the form of the witch fleeing still higher up the mountains, I rushed after her with such a vengeful whoop as startled even myself; but with all my violent efforts she gained steadily on me, for that she knew the way, dodging in and out among the trees and bushes with the greatest ease, while I stumbled and fell repeatedly bruising and tearing my hands and knees almost beyond endurance.
Yet how truly it hath been said that often victory cometh when we are ready to give up; for as I was passing a cluster of tall, gloomy looking pines only a few paces from me, I saw a white-clad figure which as I advanced cautiously toward it, suddenly rushed forward and ere I could hinder threw itself into mine arms with a cry that was nigh to weeping, "Brother Jabez!" As I recovered from my amazement and stepped back into the moonlight I could hardly believe my senses, not knowing at first whether it were another trick of the witch; for she who lay so quietly in my protection was none other than our Sister Genoveva!
But she was not senseless as I first supposed; for in a moment or two she stood up by herself, though trembling, and said with a great gladness, "The Lord be praised thou didst overcome thine adversary." Then with a vanity I trust King David never had, I boasted to my sister, "Didst see me fight the red man?"
"Yea, and when thou didst throw him so mightily I feared thou hadst killed him; for I knew thee not until I saw thee leave the rock in such hot haste after this poor creature."
"Where hath she gone?" I asked eagerly. "I have vowed not to rest until I track her to her vile retreat, though she take me to the gates of the lost." And then our sister smiled so brightly I was hurt that she should feel thus at such a time, as she said, "Wouldst like to see her vile retreat, as thou callest it?"
"For that and for thee I am here."
Still smiling she said more softly, and it seemed to me almost teasingly, "Art strong enough to stand a great surprise?"
To which I replied boastfully, "After such a night of surprises can I endure anything."
With that she took me lightly by the arm and led me into the shadow of those dark pines and when in the very midst of them, I saw what appeared to me like one of the cone-shaped houses of poles covered with skins the red men are wontto live in, only this one was larger than any I had ever seen before and so hidden by the enfolding branches of the pines that one might have passed it within a few feet even in daylight without knowing there were human habitation nigh.
"See," said Sister Genoveva, "this is the vile retreat of her whom thou callest the witch. 'Tis substantial, I assure thee; 'twill not vanish into the air."
And then, as she stepped down and lifted aside a flap that gave entrance to the structure, the moonlight shining through the opening fell full upon the form of some one lying within, seemingly asleep, just beyond the glowing embers of a bright fire that spread a soothing warmth throughout the rude dwelling. As I hung back, not knowing but that I was under some spell of the witch and that all this enchantment would be my undoing, Sister Genoveva assured me of herself by pushing me forward gently, saying, "'Tis not she whom thou hast frightened away by thy unseemly screeching," and as I still hung back for—I say it to my great shame—I feared perhaps the witch had changed herself into the form of our sister to lure me to my destruction, our sister said to me mockingly, "Surely a fighting man like thee is not afraid!" With that I stepped forward with a brave showing, for the man that can endure being called coward by woman is beyond recall.
But then as my feet sank into the soft floor—for it seemed thickly strewn with the skins of wild animals—the prostrate form moved uneasily and murmured weakly, "Genoveva," and before she could hold me back I flung myself down beside my boy, calling to him like one crazy with joy, "Sonnlein! God be praised for his mercy!" forgetting the witch and Sister Genoveva, knowing only that in his wonderful way he had brought me back to my own again.
Best of all he knew me and though I feared the shock of my sudden coming might increase his illness he soon drove away my fears by saying, with such simple faith, and the tenderness illness often brings even to men, as made me more wickedly vain than ever, "I knew thou wouldst come."
Much had we to say to each other after all our grievous trials, for Sonnlein would talk against all the admonishing from Sister Genoveva, and once when she insisted more firmly than before that he cease talking and go to sleep he retorted softly, slyly winking at me—though I detest winking—"Surely thou art not going to scold me ere we are married?"
"Married!" I burst forth, "much time hast had to make love if thou hast been sick since thou left us, and I doubt not thou hast been nigh to death."
But he merely smiled more wickedly than before as he said, "When a man is too old or toosick to make love 'tis time for him to die, and I feel not like dying, I assure thee."
So long as he had such nonsense in him I knew he was not in any critical illness. Indeed, Genoveva declared he was gaining so rapidly she knew not what to do, for that he was all the time promising she must be his wife so soon as he were well.
But finally, for with our Kloster discipline still upon us even in all these wild surroundings, in that we came slowly to what we most cared to hear, I prevailed upon our sister's modesty—for she would not have it that she had endured anything unusual—to tell me about her capture and long stay from us; but she insisted in making so light of all she had suffered and endured in body and mind that her story was over much too soon, though Sonnlein fell most ungallantly asleep ere she was half-way through, greatly tempting me to waken him with the reminder that he was the one who acted as though he and Genoveva were already married; but no doubt his illness was adequate apology; for truly no man worthy the name, so it seemeth to my inexperience, could even wish to sleep while his lady love were talking to him; though I have heard it stoutly averred that after marriage a great change cometh over the man so that he goeth to sleep whenever he feeleth like it even though hisLiebchenbe talking to him; but this I never could believe.
But it is not seemly that I, a monk, should attempt instruction in love and marriage, and therefore shall I turn to our sister's tale of her capture; and very discreetly she said nothing about Sonnlein's meeting her under the chestnut tree; nor did I think it wise to refer to the matter for fear—though I never doubted her word—the temptation for falsehood would be too great; for it hath ever seemed to me a most dreadful thing that the fair sisters, whom the Lord hath created so like unto the angels, should ever be guilty of untruth.
But here I am preaching again, as usual, so that it seemeth I shall never get to our sister's story. Yet now shall I proceed to it without further deviation. And thus it was: She was sitting under the tree but a short time after Brother Alburtus had passed her when suddenly some one from behind grasped her roughly by the arm and as she turned about, in her first thought believing it had been some jesting one stealing upon her, she looked up and saw bending over her threateningly the tall form of a red man, with an evil-looking old woman directly back of him. As our sister was about to cry for help he made such menacing motions and gestures that she knew it would be foolish to make resistance; but instead she went with them as they led the way down Mount Sinai through the meadows, and along the creek, crossing it where Sonnlein and I had seen the footprints.