CRIMSON PAGES: A STORY OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. WELL, and what's the matter with you?" says the widow of Krautz the baker, for his widow she is still; her matrimonial prospect having been blighted by the corn-dealer marrying somebody else; and what's the matter with you," she says, "looking as sad as a sick stork?" 66 She is speaking to the idiot boy, who is wringing his hands and weeping bitterly. "There will be murder," he said; "I dreamt of it last night, Mother Krautz; I saw it in the sky, when the sun set, all red, red, red as blood." "Silly boy! how should you see murder in the sky, and where has murder been done, eh, answer me that?" "Have you not heard?" "If I had heard," says widow Krautz, with more candour than courtesy, "I were as big a fool as thou to ask the question." 66 'I did not know it till it was all too late," he went on, "all too late: he has done it allhe will do worse-he has planned it, and brought it about; and now, nothing remains but the rack to try, and the fire to burn, and there will be a gathering of ashes, and"What does the fool mean?" 66 They have found them." "Found whom? "The Baptists." "I thought as much, and I am right glad to hear it." "And the rack to try, and the fire to burn," he went on, not talking to her, but to himself; "and there will be blood in the market-and he has planned it, and I have followed him, and not known it. Mother Krautz, you said I was a fool just now,-I am!" "But who is it you have followed, boy, eh?" He laughed. 'No, no, you said I was a fool just now, I am not ! And with that he began to sing a wild song, and sitting on the top of one of the bins as he had done years before, drummed with his heels against the woodwork, and nodded sagely at the widow. "Who is it, say you? I say it is not I. Go, tell the neighbours that. Who is it? say you. And the poor fool prates like a gossip filled with beer, and tells you all, and to the right you tell it, and to the left you tell it, and all the city knows it. Ha! Mother Krautz, I will tell you something, but you must promise not to tell." "You were the first," says Widow Krautz, "who ever said I was a gossip." "Overlook it, mother, and listen. There was a cook that baited a trap, there was a cat that watched for a rat; but the bait in the trap enticed the cat, and she fished for it with her paws so fat, and the trap caught the cat, and escaped the rat, -a parable, mother, if you have ears to ear." With that he sprang from his perch, and left the shop, and the angry widow to her own reflections. But she was not long alone. Soon came in gossips, number one, number two, G number three; but not the neighbour's wife from over the way, she was in close custody, poor soul, with a fair prospect of faggots. Says gossip number one, she is right glad at what has happened; the Baptists are fairly in for it now, and a sharp example will do a world of good, every way. Sixty have been arrested, and ten killed in the fight. Says gossip number two,-the number, so she hears, is less; but gossip number three has heard upon the very best authority, that it was even more. And the widow and her friends agree that, small or great, they must all be slain. "But, perhaps, the best of it is yet to be told," says gossip number two; "that limb of Satan, the boy whom your poor fool of a husband befriended, has been taken " "Just what I expected," says the widow. "Well, if my good word could save him, it should not be spoken; but are you sure of what you say?" "One of the town guard told me. You know the man who took the boy off your hands was his own father. Well, of course, like father like son: as his father was a Baptist, so was he; more than that, he took to exhorting, and made a fine to do. He was at it last night when the arrest was made, he and his father both present, and they say he strove hard to defend his father 66 What, in the room?" وو I do not know about that. As they put the lights out, the town guardsman tells me it was all slashing and slaying, and nobody knowing t'other from which; but in the skrimmage, young Liebhart gets his father away through a trap-door, across a yard to a boat, he and several others; they shove off, and are making sure they are clear of danger, when town guardsman sees them and gives the alarm; after them goes another boat, the fellows bending to the oars with a will; they overtake them, and then "And then," says gossip number three, "of course they were arrested." Perhaps you will excuse me for contradicting you," says gossip number two, who is rather a monopolist in conversation; but, of course,' is not the expression. I had my information from the town guardsman, and he says these Baptists fought like wild beasts, that the youngster wounded three or four, and would not give in till he was fairly down. He, it seems, took the command, and as soon as he found they were pursued, had the boat pushed ashore; but our fellows were too fast for them; they came up just as the Baptist folk had landed, and so the fight took place on shore. It was a dreadful fight, and to do young Liebhart justice, town guardsman says he strove the hardest to defend his father, but, of course, that was in vain; some of the people fled, but this he would not do, and so both he and his sire were taken prisoners, and will make a show in the market! "And the sooner the better," says widow Krautz; "I never could abide the boy he has all his mother's spirit in him; and what is bred in the bone, you know" Exactly what I said myself," says gossip number one. "Why, only the other day And so, from things particular they diverge to things general, until gossip number four appears in a state of wonderful excitement with the startling announcement that the neighbour's wife over the way is among the prisoners. And contrary to the usual course of things in the matter of gossip, the greater part of all this was quite true. The Baptists who were pursued turned on their pursuers, and fought for their lives. You remember that we said that young Liebhart looked like one who had a good stroke in him if it came to that; and when the time came he fought bravely. But in the end all were overpowered, and borne off to the blockhouse or gaol; there they were shut up and left alone till the morning. The prison in which they were confined contained a large number of cells; into some of these two or more prisoners were thrust; but young Liebhart and his father were placed in separate cells, and alone. It was dark and cold, and the only sound that broke the silence was the groan of some hapless captive, and the measured tread of the sentinel in the corridor. 66 The prisoners very well knew that miserable as their condition then was, it would be still worse when morning came, and brought with it their judges and the sworn tormentor. Various and conflicting were the emotions which filled every breast; but in almost all there was a sense of joy that they should be counted worthy to suffer," which animated them to be faithful in the trial which awaited them. Some, indeed, were utterly cast down, and bewailed their miserable fate with no sense of anything beyond it, no feeling of hope, or confidence, or courage. These were the exceptions. Fiery Eyes was one of them,-he it was who piteously besought his gaoler to give him one small chance of escape, and was laughed at in reply; he who begged his gaoler to let him know what he thought would be done to him, and was regaled with a dish of horrors that almost made his hair stand on end. For the most part, however, the prisoners were calm. They had risked their lives; they had expected for years what had now come upon them; they had counted the cost, and they offered no idle entreaties, no vain prayers. CHAPTER XIII. WHEN the morning dawned, the prisoners were served with some coarse and scanty food; and while it was yet early, some members of the town council, the town clerk, two or three heads of religious houses, and other officials assembled in the council chamber, and Hans, the sworn tormentor, with his assistants, was in waiting. We have seen how the widow of Krautz canvassed the story of the arrest with her neighbours, and how busily every tongue wagged; in this respect the town council and the rest of the authorities very closely resembled them: they talked of heresy and sedition, privy conspiracy and rebellion; and each man seemed to regard himself as representative of all the civic virtues; as knowing exactly what was right for every other man to do. They were all oracular, except the town clerk, who was of no fixed opinion on any subject, but shaped his sentiments on any model presented to his attention at the time a chameleon kind of a man-of no fixed colour, but taking the complexion of all things. When oracle one declared it to be his opinion that the Baptist heresy was nothing more than a political plot, favoured by foreign governments, the town clerk avowed that his view of the question was identically the same. When oracle two subsequently remarked that the "dippers" were only of the vulgar sort,mad on religion, but otherwise harmless, town clerk readily agreed-it had been his impression from the first! Of course this gossip, for it was no better, was carried on before any formal proceedings were commenced; the councillors were formed into little knots of two or three, discussing the subject of the arrest, and that of the Baptist heresy in general. To look at them, you would not have supposed that they were capable of any act of great cruelty,-not men of wolf-like nature,-they bore no outward sign of this, but they could do it when the time came. At nine of the clock, the president with the leading churchmen and the town clerk took their seats on a raised platform, where there was a table covered by a cloth, pens, ink, papers, parchment, and law books; the councillors arranged themselves below the principal people; and then the elder Liebhart was summoned into the court. He came leaning on one of the guards, for he had been wounded in the fray last night, and was faint from loss of blood. The president, gazing sternly on the prisoner, accosted him in a strain which we should regard as anything but judicial : What How now, thou limb of Satan! answer have you to the outraged law, the reviled faith, the despised Church ? What answer to give for all thine heinous offences against God and man? What excuse to offer to offended justice: marry, the fellow is dumb as a stone! by thought or word, by any means, direct or indirect, favoured sedition, I deny before God and his angels. That the faith I hold, the faith I have preached, the faith on which my soul relies, is contrary to your creed I openly acknowledge; but I call it not heresy, I call it heavenly truth, and by God's grace will seal my ministry with blood." "You are a re-baptizer ?" This from the president. "No; I hold that what you call a baptism is no baptism at all; that you, like the Pharisees of old, are teaching for doctrines the commandments of men." The president answered, 66 Be silent, or speak to the point, dog; our ears must not be pained by these blasphemies." "Answer faithfully: Are you not a preacher of the schism of the re-baptism ?" "I am, though I hold that it is neither schismatic nor re-baptizing." 66 You have taught contrary to the doctrines and practices of our Church?" "I have; because I hold them to be erroneous and dangerous, and likely to lead the ignorant to perdition." "You have described the adoration of the cross, and the invocation of saints, and belief in the intercessory prayers of the Holy Mother of God, as idolatry ?" "As I hold it to be." Marry!" says the councillor, "this knave is nice in his distinctions-he is neither one nor t'other; one knows not how to have him. Thou art an infidel, unworthy of a tar-barrel! 66 The fellow is a Lutheran," says the pre sident. 66 Unquestionably," says the town clerk. The knave is too lean for a beer-bibbing Lutheran," says another. Unquestionably," says the town clerk. "Hark 'ee," says the president; "the penalty for heresy is death. It is ours to send you to the flames. What say you to that?" "It is yours," answered the prisoner, "to kill the body, my soul you can never touch!" "Marry, no," the president rejoins; "that is work fit only for the evil one." "I stand before your judgment bar," the prisoner said. "I stand undefended and alone, and yet not alone, for God is with me. I seek no mercy at your hands; I ask no clemency,let me die. Blessed are they who are persecuted for righteousness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. I rejoice and am exceeding glad that I am counted worthy this high honour-to suffer, to die. Yes; let me say Pere, before this council, and you, my lord abbot, that you and yours are the blind leaders of the blind-the modern copies of the ancient Pharisees; that your stoles and sacred vestments, your sacraments and penances, your vigils and your fastings, shall avail you nothing in the day when God makes bare the secrets of all hearts. Your refuge of lies shall be a refuge no more, and the scorned ones of the world shall find a ready access at the Celestial Gate, whilst you lie howling in the nethermost! O unjust judge, the Judge of all shall judge you! Speak your judgment now, and let me die-God knows how willingly. Amen. Amen." death in this room, and was drowned for heresy." "How came it that your father escaped when your mother suffered ?" "I have been told, my lord, that my father was supposed to be dead, that my mother came from England to obtain some property that belonged to her; that she was betrayed and killed; that my father had been arrested and was then in gaol; that when he was liberated he went in search of her, and only learned her fate when he came to this city. "You were brought up by Krautz the baker?" 66 I was, my lord.” "You had documents by which your father There was a moment's silence, and then a whispered conversation. After that the pre-recognised you?" sident rose and said,— The boy hesitated. "We have heard enough. Prisoner, the "My lord president," spoke a calm, clear voice, court adjudges you guilty of heresy and sedi--the voice of Father Anselmo, who had glided tion, and pronounces its judgment. Let the condemned heretic be burned quick at the place which shall be appointed, before noon on the morrow. Let him have such ghostly counsel as the Church can offer." "My lord president," the prisoner began; "but he was silenced and carried from the room. As he was borne along the corridor he met his son, but no word was allowed to pass between them. There was a painful smile of recognition as they passed, and each was carried on his separate way. When young Liebhart entered the room, his youthful appearance excited attention. Few could fail to admire his gallant behaviour as he stood there before his judges, calmly selfconfident. Liebhart," said the president, “it grieves us to see one so young, one of good parts, one of great promise, in such evil plight. Mercy rejoices over judgment; forsake the associates who have played upon your youthful inexperience, give in your adhesion to the pure and holy teachings of the mother Church, and the court will assure to you a full free pardon." "I am humbly, deeply grateful," he answered, without embarrassment," and conscious of the presumption which my answer must imply; but, my lord president, I feel that we must obey God rather than man, and I hold that the religion I profess is truth, that to forsake it would be to do wrong to my conscience, and to offer insult to the Divine Majesty." 66 The boy speaks with becoming humility," said one of the town councillors, in a whisper. Exactly so," said the town clerk. "He speaks with the braggart insolence of a cunning knave," quoth the abbot. Precisely what I was about to say," says the town clerk. "Do not condemn yourself rashly," the president continued; "but answer a few straightforward questions. You will speak the truth ?" into the room as silently as a shadow,-"it is unnecessary to press the lad on that point. The documents to which you refer were found on Liebhart the elder. They are here-leaves cut from the Gospel, locks of hair, and a brief note. I submit them to the court." He handed up the articles as he spoke, and they were passed round and commented on by the councillors. "These papers are fairly written," said the abbot; "they have been rudely severed from the book to which they belonged; he who cut them out must have been in haste, or a sloven with his knife. Where is the rest of the book, good youth?" The boy hesitated. "Do you My lord president," says the calm, soft voice of Father Anselm, perhaps we need scarcely press the lad on that topic. I have good reason for knowing that the volume from which those pages were taken is now in possession of a fair fugitive from a convent in Friesland; the book, my lord president, was, I am given to understand, the property of one of the sisterhood." 66 "Are you referring," said my lord president, to the Lady Elizabeth ? " 66 I am, my lord." 66 When was she last seen ?" She has not, for certain, been seen, my lord president, since her flight from the convent." "You say for certain; what does that signify? دو "I have reason to believe, my lord president, that she has been seen in this city; that she has been seen in company with the re-baptizers. I have no certain proof of this, but a very fixed impression." "Prisoner," said the president, "have you any knowledge of this circumstance?" The boy hesitated, and his face crimsoned. "Prisoner, answer to the question,-do you or do you not know anything of the fugitive?" My lord president, I cannot answer." "Cannot! those words are unknown in our Speak openly and plainly-yes or 'I do. My father has but now retired from court. this court. My mother was condemned to no ? " "My lord president, I intreat you not to press the question upon me." "Boy," said the president, crimsoning as the prisoner had crimsoned, but from a very different feeling, "entreaty is of no avail; the question must be answered." "My lord president, I refuse to answer." There was a murmur of astonishment through the court-a moment's silence, broken by the president. "If you persist in your refusal, we must resort to the legal means. We must wring the answer from you." "I know to what you refer, my lord; and I entreat you to consider before you proceed. I cannot-must not-will not say anything respecting the Lady Elizabeth; no torture will wring it from me. I can die; but I cannot surrender a confidence reposed in me.' "Under the hands of Hans you will tell a different story. Tormentor!" دو In his black, tightly-fitting suit, Hans came forward, paler than usual, but with the fixed stony expression on his face that no emotion stirred. He bowed lowly to the court. The prisoner may be submitted to the question: see to it." At a sign from Hans, three stout fellows in black came forward, and seized upon young Liebhart with no friendly grasp. The president rose. "My lord abbot," he said, will you be witness with me of what transpires? The abbot answered in the affirmative. دو I am here, my lord." The prisoner was then led away: the abbot, the lord president, the town clerk, and the surgeon followed. Hans led the way. They entered the torture chamber of the blockhouse. busy; and tongues are wagging madly, even as tongues will wag, of soldiers or civilians, when the nose has dipped too freely into the beaker. "Old bald pate is not himself to-night," says Frosch, whom you may remember to have seen at this same tavern before. "Who calls me bald pate?" asks the man to whom reference has been made, and we know him also, it is no other than Stumf; and truly, it must be owned, the words of Frosch are somewhat justified. Why, out upon it, man," says Frosch, never be be angry at an idle jest; we are all in a merry mood, and you in sober sadness. Come, a stoop together!" "Not a drop." "Faith, this looks odd. Comrades, here is our drummer and town crier pensive as a love lorn swain, who has been jilted by his sweetheart. What ails the man?" "Nothing that you can heal." 66 A secret," says Frosch to a comrade-he says it in a whisper with a light laugh-"beshrew me, we must have the secret out of him." Another cup and then another, and out comes the secret as freely as spirits from a bung-hole." "But he won't drink." ' Tush, man, try him again." They tried in vain, however, and Stumf sat moodily listening or seeming to listen to their talk of what was to happen on the morrow-the gala day of the cruel persecution. He was thinking what should he do; he must be there; he knew more than one of the condemned; he must be a silent witness of their sufferings, must play his part with the persecutors. Alas for him, there was occasion enough for him to be moody. Had he not the Lady Elizabeth in his house? Did he not know ? ah, well, to-morrow-tomorrow. |