_ CHAPTER EIGHT
The Count von Lindburg had been anxiously waiting news from Eric, but none had arrived. The Lady Margaret had been assured by Father Nicholas that his message had been safely delivered to the Abbess of Nimptsch, and that, in spite of all master Eric and his plausible friend might do, she would take very good care her little prisoner should not escape her.
The Knight was growing anxious; he was afraid that something had gone wrong, when, one afternoon, a light waggon, the horses which drew it covered with foam, drove up to the gate of the Castle. Over the drawbridge it dashed, for the porter did not hesitate to admit it, and a venerable-looking old gentleman, habited as a merchant, descending, handed out two young girls in peasants' dresses. The Knight caught sight of the waggon, and hurrying down, one of the girls was soon in his arms.
"My own Ava! My pet little bird, and you have escaped from your cage! Welcome--welcome home, and praised be God who has given me this great blessing!" he exclaimed, again and again kissing her cheek.
His child wept as she hung on the old man's neck. While this was taking place, the other young lady looked about very much astonished and frightened, though there was nothing particularly to frighten her, and the grave merchant was doing his best to reassure her.
"Well done, Eric, my boy--well done, Albert von Otten!" exclaimed the Knight, when he could bring himself to turn his attention for a moment from his recovered daughter.
"Oh! thank Albert, father; it was he thought of the plan; he designed the whole of it. I merely acted the part he selected for me," answered Eric.
"I thank him heartily, then; for very well done it has been, and you have both my eternal gratitude," said the Knight. "And this young lady, I conclude that she helped you in the undertaking?"
"No; it was they helped me to run away, as Ava did not like to go alone, and she promised me an asylum under your roof."
"And you shall have it, if the Pope and all the cardinals were to come and demand you. They shall pull the walls down before I will give you up. And now tell me who you are, my dear fraulein?"
"I am Beatrice von Reichenau, of Swabia. My father, Count von Reichenau, and my mother decline to receive me, and yet they love me, I am sure; but, alas! they little know the horrors of the life to which they had devoted me."
"Better times will come, my sweet fraulein!" said the Knight, who just then saw everything in a bright light.
Meantime, Dame Margaret, Father Nicholas not being in the Castle, having seen the waggon and the young ladies get out of it, and guessing what had happened, and that her fine scheme had failed, went to the great hall, accompanied by Laneta, that she might receive Ava with becoming dignity, and reprimand her in a manner suitable to her offence. She had just taken her post when the Knight entered with timid little Ava clinging to his arm, looking more sweet and lovable than ever in her becoming peasant's dress, and not a bit like a wicked runaway nun. As soon as she saw her mother, she ran forward and threw herself into her arms, half weeping and half smiling.
"Oh, mother--mother, I am so thankful to see you again!" she cried.
Dame Margaret began her speech, but it would not come out. Nature asserted her rights over bigotry and superstition; she burst into tears, and, folding her daughter to her bosom, exclaimed, "And I, Ava, am glad to have you, darling!"
"I always said that she was a good woman, and now I am convinced of it," said the Knight. "Father Nicholas has done his best to spoil her, but, thank Heaven! he has not succeeded, and his reign is pretty well over, I suspect."
Laneta, who really in her way loved her sister, followed her mother's lead, and embraced Ava affectionately. The Dame Margaret was also not a little gratified when she found that her daughter's companion in her flight was so high-born a girl as Beatrice von Reichenau.
"If a young lady of her rank could do such a thing, it surely could not be so very wrong," she said to herself.
Her reasoning was not very good, but it served just then to smooth matters.
Ava and her friend were not idle in the Castle, nor did they confine their labours to it. Their mild, gentle, subdued manners and earnest and zealous spirits attracted all hearts with whom they came in contact. The glorious truths they had received into their own souls they were anxious to impart to others, nor did they feel that any trouble, any exertion, was too great for them to take to forward that object. Still it was very evident that to effect any speedy change on a large scale among the peasantry a preacher was required. Albert von Otten had been made a priest in the days of his ignorance, before he went to Wittemburg, and he remembered the Knight's offer to let him preach in the neighbouring church. Father Nicholas somewhat demurred, but the Knight assured him that Albert von Otten, he was sure, would only preach sound doctrine, and advised him to hold his tongue. Such a sermon as Albert preached had never been heard in that church. He said not a word about himself. He held up but one object--Christ Jesus walking on earth, Christ Jesus crucified, Christ rising again, Christ ascending into heaven, Christ sitting on the right hand of God pleading for sinners. Then he added:
"Dear friends, once a man came among you to sell you what he called indulgences; were they indulgences to commit sin, or indulgences to obtain pardon? What impious imposition! Oh! dear friends--dear friends! God's gifts of grace are free--are priceless. The blood of His only Son purchased them for us once for all. Gifts, gifts--free, free gifts--are what God offers; no selling now, no purchasing now--that has all been done. Christ has paid the price for every sin that man has committed or ever will commit, and man can by his works not add one jot, one tittle, to that all-sufficient price. God's offer is all of free grace. Man has but to look to Christ, to repent, to desire to be healed, and he will be forgiven, he will be accepted and received into heaven. Dear friends, when Moses was leading the Israelites out of Egypt, the land of persecution, of slavery, of idolatry, through the wilderness, they were visited by a plague of venomous serpents whose bite sent fiery pains through their bodies, which speedily terminated by their death. God then ordered Moses to make a brazen serpent (the serpent being among the Egyptians the emblem of the healing power, which was well understood by them [Note 1]). This serpent he was to raise up on a pole in a conspicuous part of the encampment, and all who simply looked at it, desiring to be healed, were instantly to be healed. Moses asked no price, no reward; the bitten sufferers were only to exert themselves to look to ensure being healed. Christ Himself told His disciples, 'As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so shall the Son of man be lifted up'--that was Himself on the cross, 'that all'--of every tongue, and kindred, and nation,--'who believe in Him'-- that is to say, look on Him as the Israelites at the brazen serpent--'shall not perish'--shall not die of the fiery bite of sin--'but have eternal life.' This is Gospel--Gospel truth. Then what becomes of indulgences, penances, fasts, invocations to saints, to the Virgin Mary, gifts, alms, if bestowed with the idea of purchasing aught? All useless, vain, insulting to God's generosity, mercy, kindness. It is as if a great noble were to pardon a poor man who had grossly offended him, and, moreover, to bestow a favour on him, and the poor man were to offer him a groat as payment, saying, 'No, I cannot receive your pardon and your favour as a free gift; I must return you something; indeed, a groat is not much, neither do I very greatly value your pardon, because I do not think my offence was very great, nor your favour, which, after all, is but small.'
"'Foolish man,' the lord would say, 'I bestowed that pardon and that favour on you in my beneficence. I require nothing in return but your gratitude and your obedience, and that you should speak of my name and fame among my other vassals, and live in amity with them, doing them all the service in your power. Say, foolish man, what else can a poor, helpless, decrepit, broken-down creature like yourself do for me?' What should you say, dear friends, if this poor wretched man were to answer, 'No, but there are a set of people in your dominions, who assume to be your ministers, though to be sure they make a mockery of your name and love to send people over to serve your enemies,' I can buy of them what they call indulgences, which they say are much better than your free pardon; besides, I may offend as often as I please, and you will be compelled to forgive me because I have paid them; and if it were not for these indulgences, I could fast, I could beat myself, and perform numberless other penances; I could mumble petitions to you, not thinking of what I was saying; indeed, I have no fear but what I can make ample amends to you for this gift which you have bestowed, for this pardon which you have offered. Dear friends, you will say what a weak, conceited, foolish, impudent wretch is that man of whom you speak; and yet what are you doing when you perform penances, and fasts, and such-like works? What did you do when you purchased that mountebank impostor Tetzel's indulgences? Confess--confess that he swindled you out of your money, but O do not, by trusting to them, which you might as well do as a sinking man to a feather or a straw in the raging ocean, allow the arch-deceiver Satan to swindle you out of your souls."
This address, of which many similar were delivered at that time throughout Germany and Switzerland, produced a great effect in the village. No one heard it more eagerly, or with greater delight, than Ava and her companion. It brought out clearly so much of what they had read in the convent.
"God's free grace! God's free grace!" they repeated to each other. "Oh, what a loving, merciful God he must be!"
It made Father Nicholas very uncomfortable. Had he, then, all his life been encouraging a system of imposture? It was a question he would have to answer somehow. Dame Margaret also went back to the Castle sorely troubled in mind. She thought that she had by purchasing Tetzel's indulgences, secured the salvation of herself and all her family. She was fond of a bargain, and she thought that really she had made a good one by the expenditure or a few gold ducats, considering the advantage to be gained. And now she was afraid that she, and her husband, and children were no nearer heaven than they were before she had bought the indulgences; and from the description Tetzel gave of it, purgatory must be a very disagreeable place, but she comforted herself by thinking that Tetzel might have imposed on his hearers in that matter also.
As, however, there was no lack of Testaments in simple, clear German, and parts of the Bible also, and Albert, and Eric, and Ava, and Beatrice too, able and anxious to explain it, gradually both Dame Margaret's and Laneta's eyes were opened, and their faith in the system to which they had before clung was greatly shaken. Father Nicholas, however, could not be so easily turned from his old notions, and now came that terrible convulsion caused by the outbreak of the peasantry and the sad blood-shedding which followed.
"Ah," he exclaimed, triumphantly, "see the work which Luther and his followers have produced!"
"No such thing," answered the Knight, indignantly; "you ought to know that these attempts were commenced long before Dr Luther was heard of. Discontent has been fermenting among them for many years. They have some reason and a great deal of folly on their side. They have done their work like foolish savages as they are, and they will suffer the fate of fools, though, in the meantime, they may do a great deal of mischief."
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Note 1. An interpolation of the author's, this fact probably not being known in Luther's days. _