WHILST young hearts were thinking their “long, long thoughts,” and beginning all unconsciously to dream their rainbow colored dreams within the walls of the old city, as elsewhere throughout the world, Nuremberg itself was rapidly becoming the very center of the great struggle of the age. Wallenstein was threatening it with the mighty host his enchanter's wand had summoned out of the earth to retrieve the fortunes of the House of Austria; Gustavus Adolphus and his Swedes were hastening to its defense. The duel between these two great warriors, for which the world was watching “with parted lips and straining eyes,” seemed likely to be fought out beneath its walls. It was a prize worth contending for. Besides its importance as a strongly fortified town in the heart of Germany, the Imperialists looked forward with fierce delight to the rich booty its arsenals and magazines, its shops and the dwellings of its wealthy citizens, would afford them; while the Swedes came eagerly to the help of the truest of their allies amongst the free cities of the Empire, whose chiefs had both the heart to stand loyally by their friends and the means to render them the most valuable assistance.
There was great stir in the city during those days of mingled hope and fear. Provisions were being brought in from every part of the surrounding country; soldiers were being equipped and drilled, and were marching to and fro with military pomp and parade; fugitives of all sorts and conditions were seeking shelter within the walls. The ladies of the house of Lübeling, with their guests, found abundant occupation in ministering to the wants of these unfortunate people and in trying to render their position more tolerable; while the baron, with his colleagues in the Council of Eight, labored to provide sustenance for the expected Swedish host; and young August enjoyed to the full the large excitement of the scenes and interests in the midst of which he found himself.
At last the great news, “The king is coming,” flew from lip to lip. Gustavus signified his intention of making the neighboring town of Furth his headquarters, and only visiting Nuremberg for a day. Nevertheless the townsfolk were not remiss in their preparations to give their champion and defender a right royal welcome. From early dawn the streets were gay and busy; and the tramp of horse and foot moving to and fro roused the citizens from their slumbers.
The balconies of the Lübeling Haus that overlooked the street were sure to be occupied in good time by the female part of the household, who were all eager to see the Protestant champion.
All, at least, with one exception―the Lady of Savelburg, who seemed more concerned about the dying child of one of her protégés, a carpenter from Bohemia, than about the great King of Sweden. She left the house at an early hour, taking with her some comforts for the child, and by this eccentric conduct occasioning the first difference of opinion between Jeanie and her friend Caroline von Lübeling.
“Now I call that sheer affectation,” said Caroline, as they sat together in one of the balconies. “Lady Gertrud wants to make us all believe she does not care whether she sees the king or no. That is perfectly impossible; she must care, and she does. These airs of indifference are only put on.”
“Pardon me, Fraulein,” Jeanie interposed, with some warmth. “There never was anyone in the world more utterly free from affectation than Fraulein Gertrud. She is very silent about what she thinks and feels. But she never assumes anything. She is true and real, through and through —sincere.” After a pause she added, “I wanted to go with her to little Gretchen, but she would not let me. She took old Margaretta instead, because she does not care to see soldiers and the like, having lost her son in the war.”
“Not to mention another reason,” said Caroline good-humouredly. “That on such a day as this fair young maidens are best within doors, unless they are duly attended by their cavaliers. Talking of cavaliers, here comes August. Well, August, how goes it?”
“Right well. You know I am to have the honor of waiting upon His Majesty at the banquet in the Town Hall, so I must be off again presently to prepare for my duties, and to see that my fellow-squires are all ready for theirs. We shall be a proper band, I can assure you, young ladies; we shall make first-rate pages of honor, all clad in purple velvet and gold lace. I shall pour the wine for him myself, however; I have bargained for that.
“And oh, brother,” said his youngest sister, “won't you come to us when you are dressed, and let us see you in all your bravery?”
“You shall see me afterward, Gretchen, which will answer quite as well. But I am come now to tell you, and especially Fraulein Hännchen, who is a stranger here, that the great personages of the city will be passing just now on their way to the Marien Thor, by which the king is to enter. Look, I am not a moment too soon. Here come the mounted guard, heading the procession. That is their captain on the gray horse. Look, Fraulein Hännchen, you will not see nobler animals than those in either of the services, nor better men to ride them—though I say it, being myself a man of Nuremberg born and bred. Come to this side; you will see better.”
“A boy of Nuremberg, you ought to say,” remarked Caroline, laughing, as she good-naturedly drew Jeanie into the place he had chosen for her. “There seems to be a little confusion down there.”
“Someone attempting to cross the street under the very feet of the horses,” said August. “Not his fault if he is not killed. Those street urchins are always in mischief. Hark, what is that?” A shout of warning―that came too late―and then a cry of pain rose to their ears. “He is down!―and that horse plunging and rearing―frightened out of his senses! He will be trampled to death!”
“August! August!” But both his sisters called August in vain, for before the words were uttered he had darted from the room, and in another instant they saw him in the street. It was soon apparent that a boy, who had imprudently tried to cross the street, had been thrown down and hurt. August and one of the bystanders extricated him from the throng, and carried him into the house, while order was being restored amongst the horsemen, and the march resumed, after the momentary interruption occasioned by the accident.
“Let us go and see if we can be of any use,” said Caroline to Jeanie; for the Nuremberg maiden was brave and helpful, as became a soldier's child. Jeanie followed her willingly to the little matted chamber on the ground floor whither they had brought the injured boy.
He was lying motionless upon the oaken settle, and August and one of the servants were bending anxiously over him. “The man who helped me to bring him in has gone for the doctor,” said August. “Caroline, go and find Aunt Gabrielle, or Fraulein Gertrud, if she has returned. They will know what to do.”
In the meantime a low cry broke from Jeanie's lips, and her face grew deadly pale. In an instant she was beside the couch. “Hughie―my own brother Hughie―look up, and speak to me!”
The faint was passing, and the dear, familiar voice reached the ear of returning consciousness.
Hugh looked up and recognized his sister with a smile, soon quenched in pain. “My ankle—my ankle!” he moaned.
“Drink this, my little soldier,” said August, putting to his lips some cordial the servant had fetched. “That is right. You will be better soon. And he is really your brother, Fraulein Hännchen? ―the ‘Hugh’ I have heard you talk of so often? Dear Hugh, thou hast come to good friends, to whom thou art right welcome for thy sister's sake. Only I wish it had been in a better way for thyself. Is the pain very great?”
“N—no, not very. Thank you, sir,” said Hugh, still in English and in a broken voice. “Jeanie, Dinna look at me that gait.”
August, though not understanding his words, followed the direction of his eyes, and immediately insisted that Jeanie should drink a little of the cordial. “Your brother is better already,” he assured her soothingly.
Then the doctor arrived, and put everyone out of the room except Jeanie, who would not go, and August, who would not leave her, though she was thoughtful enough to urge him, reminding him of the service upon which his heart was set. “You will be late for the banquet,” she whispered.
“No fear of that. Do you think I am going to leave you here without a man to stand beside you?”
Hugh's injuries did not prove after all to be very serious. A small bone in the leg was broken, but the doctor assured Jeanie that the fracture would prove less tedious and painful than a dislocation, or even a serious sprain. There were two or three bruises besides, but they were not severe. Throughout the examination and the setting of the bone Hugh bore himself with great fortitude, and when the doctor complimented him, calling him a gallant little soldier, he answered proudly, “I am in the Swedish service, sir. I'm a boy of Colonel Monro's regiment, in the Blue Brigade.”
“You will do your regiment credit one day. But in the meantime, young man, I am by no means obliged to you, for you have made me lose my chance of seeing your king. He has just passed through this street; I heard the tumult without and the shouting.”
“Then I have no time to spare. Good-bye, Fraulein Hannchen; all will be right now,” said August as he darted off.
The doctor, having made Hugh as comfortable as he could, soon left also.
“Oh, Jeanie,” said Hugh, when they were left alone, “you have missed all the show for my sake! I am so sorry.”
“I never thought of it,” Jeanie answered, looking at him fondly. “I had rather ten thousand times over see your face, Hughie, than the King of Sweden's. But, oh, what in the world Barred you try to cross the street under the very feet of the horsemen, like that? It was so―so”―
“So foolish?” said Hugh, with a little laugh. “Just because I saw your face in the balcony.”
“But why not wait, like a reasonable being, till the horsemen had gone by?”
“Because I saw you move. I thought you were going away. I never thought it possible you could be living in such a braw house as this. I thought you had only come to see the show, and that I should tyne you altogether.”
“How did you come to be here at all?”
“I came just to look for you. The last letter we had from you told us you were coming to Nuremberg with that Bohemian lady who has been so kind to you. So I got leave from our schoolmaster over night, left our quarters before daybreak, and here I am,”
“But how did you ever expect to find me?”
“Ah, I know a little German now, forbye a good deal of Swedish. I have got your friend's name all right, Fraulein Gertrud von Savelburg. And if I failed to find her, I meant to ask everyone I met for the prettiest girl they had ever seen, with golden hair and dark eyes.”
“Hughie, Hughie, you are the same as ever.”
“Only a much bigger Hughie than you used to know, and—I am vain enough to hope—a better one.”
“And what of our uncle?”
“Oh, Uncle Charlie is a grand man now, and holds his head as high as anyone in the camp. Just wait till you see him! Ah, here comes the pretty young lady who was in the room before. I am sorry, Fraulein, to cause so much trouble,” said Hugh in German to Fraulein von Lübeling, as she came to his side with a covered cup in her hand.
“Never mind that, my little friend,” said the young lady kindly. “Take this warm soup I have brought you. And when you have finished, and feel a little stronger, we will have you carried to a comfortable room upstairs, where your sister can sit with you while you sleep. For the Herr Doctor says you must try to sleep, and not talk much now, lest you should grow feverish.”
“You are all so good to me,” said Hugh, as he drank his soup with much satisfaction. He was soon afterward carried upstairs, and comfortably established in the guest-chamber, under the care of his sister.