The enmity and discord, which of late

Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your Duke

To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen,

Who, wanting guilders to redeem their lives,

Have seal’d his rigorous statutes with their bloods,

Excludes all pity from our threat’ning looks.

Comedy Of Errors.

The dawn had scarce begun to touch the distant horizon, when Arthur Philipson was on foot to prepare for his father’s departure and his own, which, as arranged on the preceding night, was to take place two hours before the Landamman and his attendants proposed to leave the ruinous castle of Graffs-lust. It was no difficult matter for him to separate the neatly arranged packages which contained his father’s effects, from the clumsy bundles in which the baggage of the Swiss was deposited. The one set of mails was made up with the neatness of men accustomed to long and perilous journeys; the other, with the rude carelessness of those who rarely left their home, and who were altogether inexperienced.

A servant of the Landamman assisted Arthur in this task, and in placing his father’s baggage on the mule belonging to the bearded deputy from Schwytz. From this man also he received instructions concerning the road from Graffs-lust to Breisach (the chief citadel of La Ferette), which was too plain and direct to render it likely that they should incur any risk of losing their way, as had befallen them when travelling on the Swiss mountains. Everything being now prepared for their departure, the young Englishman awakened his father, and acquainted him that all was ready. He then retired towards the chimney, while his father, according to his daily custom, repeated the prayer of St. Julian, the patron of travellers, and adjusted his dress for the journey.

It will not be wondered at, that, while the father went through his devotions, and equipped himself for travel, Arthur, with his heart full of what he had seen of Anne of Geierstein for some time before, and his brain dizzy with the recollection of the incidents of the preceding night, should have kept his eyes riveted on the door of the sleeping apartment at which he had last seen that young person disappear; that is, unless the pale, and seemingly fantastic form, which had twice crossed him so strangely, should prove no wandering spirit of the elements, but the living substance of the person whose appearance it bore. So eager was his curiosity on this subject, that he strained his eyes to the utmost, as if it had been possible for them to have penetrated through wood and walls into the chamber of the slumbering maiden, in order to discover whether her eye ol cheek bore any mark that she had last night been a watcher of a wanderer.

“But that was the proof to which Rudolph appealed,” he said internally, “and Rudo]ph alone will have the opportunity of remarking the result. Who knows what advantage my communication may give him in his suit with yonder lovely creature? And what must she think of me, save as one light of thought and loose of tongue, to whom nothing extraordinary can chance, but he must hasten to babble it into the ears of those who are nearest to him at the moment? I would my tongue had been palsied ere I said a syllable to yonder proud, yet wily prize fighter! I shall never see her more — that is to be counted for certain. I shall never know the true interpretation of those mysteries which hang around her. But to think I may have prated something tending to throw her into the power of yonder ferocious boor, will be a subject of remorse to me while I live.”

Here he was startled out of his reverie by the voice of his father. “Why, how now, boy; art thou waking, Arthur, or sleeping on thy feet from the fatigue of last night’s service?”

“Not so, my father,” answered Arthur, as once recollecting himself. “Somewhat drowsy, perhaps; but the fresh morning air will soon put that to flight.”

Walking with precaution through the group of sleepers who lay around, the elder Philipson, when they had gained the door of the apartment, turned back, and looking on the straw couch which the large form of the Landamman, and the silvery beard of his constant companion, touched by the earliest beams of light, distinguished as that of Arnold Biederman, he muttered between his lips an involuntary adieu.

Farewell, mirror of ancient faith and integrity — farewell, noble Arnold — farewell, soul of truth and candor-to whom cowardice, selfishness, and falsehood, are alike unknown!”

And farewell, thought his son, to the loveliest, and most candid, yet most mysterious of maidens — But the adieu, as may well be believed, was not, like that of his father, expressed in words.

They were soon after on the outside of the gate. The Swiss domestic was liberally recompensed, and charged with a thousand kind words of farewell and of remembrance to the Landamman from his English guests, mingled with hopes and wishes that they might soon meet again in the Burgundian territory. The young man then took the bridle of the mule, and led the animal forward on their journey at an easy pace, his father walking by his side.

After a silence of some minutes, the elder Philipson addressed Arthur. “I fear me,” he said, “we shall see the worthy Landamman no more. The youths who attend him are bent upon taking offence — the Duke of Burgundy will not fail, I fear to give them ample occasion — and the peace which the excellent man desires for the land of his fathers will be shipwrecked ere they reach the Duke’s presence though even were it otherwise, how the proudest prince in Europe will brook the moody looks of burgesses and peasants (so will Charles of Burgundy term the friends we have parted from), is a question too easily answered. A war, fatal to the interests of all concerned, save Louis of France, will certainly, take place; and dreadful must be the contest if the ranks of the Burgundian chivalry shall encounter those iron sons of the mountains, before whom so many of the Austrian nobility have been repeatedly prostrated.”

“I am so much convinced of the truth of what yo I say, my father,” replied Arthur, “that I judge even this day will not pass over without a breach of truce. I have already put on my shirt of mail, in case we should meet bad company betwixt Graffs-lust and Breisach; and I would to Heaven that you would observe the same precaution. It will not delay our journey; and I confess to you, that I, at least, will travel with much greater consciousness of safety should you do so.”

“I understand you, my son,” replied the elder Philipson. “But I am a peaceful traveller in the Duke of Burgundy’s territories, and must not willingly suppose, that while under the shadow of his banner, I must guard myself against banditti, as if I were in the wilds of Palestine. As for the authority of his officers, and the extent of their exactions, I need not tell you that they are, in our circumstances, things to be submitted to without grief or grudging.”

Leaving the two travellers to journey towards Breisach at their leisure, I must transport my readers to the eastern gate of that small town, which, situated on an eminence, had a commanding prospect on every side, but especially towards Bale. It did not properly make a part of the dominions of the Duke of Burgundy, but had been placed in his hands in pawn or in pledge, for the repayment of a considerable sum of money, due to Charles by the Emperor Sigismund of Austria, to whom the seigniory of the place belonged in property. But the town lay so conveniently for distressing the commerce of the Swiss, and inflicting on that people, whom he at once hated and despised, similar marks of his malevolence, as to encourage a general opinion that the Duke of Burgundy, the implacab1e and un reasonable enemy of these mountaineers, would never listen to any terms of redemption, however equitable or advantageous, which might have the effect of restoring to the Emperor an advanced post, of such consequence to the gratification of his dislike, as Breisach.

The situation of the little town was in itself strong, but the fortifications which surrounded it were barely sufficient to repel any sudden attack, and not adequate to resist for any length of time a formal siege. The morning beams had shone on the spire of the church for more than an hour, when a tall, thin, elderly man, wrapt in a morning gown, over which was buckled a broad belt, supporting on the left side a sword, on the right a dagger, approached the barbican of the eastern gate. His bonnet displayed a feather, which, or the tail of a fox in lieu of it, was the emblem of gentle blood throughout all Germany, and a badge highly prized by those who had a right to wear it.

The small party of soldiers who had kept watch there during file course of the preceding night, and supplied sentinels both for ward and outlook, took arms on the appearance of this individual, and drew themselves up in the form of a guard, which receives with military reverence an officer of importance. Archibald de Hagenbach’s countenance, for it was the Governor himself, expressed that settled peevishness and ill temper which characterize the morning hours of a valetudinary debauchee. His head throbbed, his pulse was feverish, and his cheek was pale, — symptoms of his having spent the last night, as was his usual custom, amid wine-stoups and flagons. Judging from the haste with which his soldiers fell into their ranks, and the awe and silence which reigned among them, it appeared that they were accustomed to expect and dread his ill humor on such occasions. He glanced at them, accordingly, an inquisitive and dissatisfied look, as if he sought something on which to vent his peevishness, and then asked for the “loitering dog Kilian.”

Kilian presently made his appearance, a stout hard-favored man-at-arms, a Bavarian by birth, and by rank the personal squire of the Governor.

“What news of the Swiss churls, Kilian?” demanded Archibald de Hagenbach. “They should, by their thrifty habits, have been on the road two hours since. Have the peasant-clods presumed to ape the manners of gentlemen, and stuck by the flask till cock-crow?”

“By my faith, it may well be,” answered Kilian; “the burghers of Bale gave them full means of carousal.”

“How, Kilian? — They dared not offer hospitality to the Swiss drove of bullocks, after the charge we sent them to the contrary?”

“Nay, the Balese received them not into the town,” replied the squire; “but I learned, by sure espial, that they afforded them means of quartering at Graffs-lust, which was furnished with many a fair gammon and pasty, to speak nought of flasks of Rhine wine, barrels of beer, and stoups of strong waters.”

“The Balese shall answer this, Kilian,” said the Governor. “do they think I am forever to be thrusting myself between the Duke and his pleasure on their behalf? — The fat porkers have presumed too much since we accepted some trifling gifts at their hands, more for gracing of them than for any advantage we could make of their paltry donations. Was it not the wine from Bale which we were obliged to drink out in pint goblets, lest it should become sour before morning?”

“It was drunk out, and in pint goblets too,” said Kilian; can well remember.”

Why, go to, then,” said the Governor; they shall know, these beasts of Bale, that I hold myself no way obliged by such donations as these, and that my remembrance of the wines which I carouse, rests no longer than the headache, which the mixtures they drug me with never fail of late years to leave behind, for the next morning’s pastime.”

“Your excellency,” replied the squire, “will make it, then, a quarrel between the Duke of Burgundy and the city of Bale, that they gave this indirect degree of comfort and assistance to the Swiss deputation?”

“Ay, marry will I,” said De Hagenbach, “unless there be wise men among them, who shall show me good reasons for protecting them — Oh, the Balese do not know our noble Duke, nor the gift he hath for chastising the gutter-blooded citizens of a free town. Thou caust tell them, Kilian, as well as any man, how he dealt with the villains of Liege, when they would needs be pragmatical.”

“I will apprise them of the matter,” said Kilian, “when opportunity shall serve, and I trust I shall find them in a temper disposed to cultivate your honorable friendship.”

“Nay, if it is the same to them, it is quite indifferent to me, Kilian,” continued the Governor; “but, methinks, whole and sound throats are worth some purchase, were it only to swallow black-puddings and schwarz beer, to say nothing of Westphalian hams and Nierensteiner — I say, a slashed throat is a useless thing, Kilian.”

“I will make the fat citizens to understand their danger, and the necessity of making interest,” answered Kilian. “Sure, I am not now to learn how to turn the ball into your excellency’s lap.”

“You speak well,” said Sir Archibald; “but how chanced it thou hast so little to say to the Switzers’ leaguer? I should have thought an old trooper like thee would have made their pinions flutter amidst the good cheer thou tellest me of.”

“I might as well have annoyed an angry hedgehog with my bare finger,” said Kilian. “I surveyed Graffs-lust myself; — there were sentinels on the castle walls, a sentinel on the bridge, besides a regular patrol of these Swiss fellows who kept strict watch. So that there was nothing to be done; otherwise, knowing your excellency’s ancient quarrel, I would have had a hit at them, when they should never have known who hurt them. — I will tell you, however, fairly, that these churls ate acquiring better knowledge in the art of war than the best Ritter knight.”

“Well, they will be the better worth the looking after when they arrive,” said De Hagenbach; “they come forth in state doubtless, with all their finery, their wives’ chains of silver, their own medals, and rings of lead and copper. — Ah, the base hinds! they are unworthy that a man of noble blood should ease them of their trash!”

“There is better ware among them, if my intelligence bath not deceived me,” replied Kilian; “there are merchants — ”

“Pshaw! the packhorses of Berne and Soleure,” said the Governor, “with their paltry lumber! — cloth too coarse to make covers for horses of any breeding, and linen that is more like hair-cloth than any composition of flax. I will strip them, However, were it but to vex the knaves. What! not content with claiming to be treated like an independent people, and sending forth deputies and embassies forsooth, they expect, I warrant, to make the indemnities of ambassadors cover the introduction of a cargo of their contraband commodities, and thus insult the noble Duke of Burgundy, and cheat him at the same time? But De Hagenbach is neither knight nor gentleman if he allow them to pass unchallenged.”

“And they are better worth being stopped,” said Kilian, “than your excellency supposes; for they have English merchants along with ............