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Ebook has 1851 lines and 119434 words, and 38 pages

Book the Eighth

CHAPTER

Book the Ninth

Book the Tenth

Book the Eleventh

Book the Twelfth

Book the Thirteenth

Notes

PHILIP ROLLO.

Book the Eighth

A DISCOVERY.

A week glided away at the quiet old castle of Nyeki?bing.

Every day the old queen rode forth on a fat Danish horse, accompanied by Ernestine and other ladies; every day, at the same hour as yesterday, the guard presented arms at the gate--the officers saluted--the drum rolled--the pipe yelled, and for the remainder of that day all became quiet again. A few ships now--but very few, for war had desolated the cities of the coast--spread their white sails on the waters of the Sound, and listlessly we watched them from the lower ramparts, where moss and grass grew under the wheels of the unused cannon. I saw Ernestine frequently, but always briefly and in presence of her father; so that no opportunity was afforded to me for addressing her as my heart wished, and as vanity and hope told me she, perhaps, expected.

From King Christian couriers came frequently, and it was evident that they bore evil tidings, which were industriously concealed from us.

One day the Count of Carlstein met me hurriedly; I observed that he had on his belt with his sword and poniard, as well as a stout corslet, which the Baron Foeyoe had given him.

"I am about to leave you, captain," said he.

"Leave us, count--for whence?"

"The king generously gave me liberty, and, while the great game of glory and fortune is being played so well by Wallenstein, by Tilly, and Merod?, can I remain inactive here at Falster? Another column of Christian's army has surrendered to the soldiers of the empire."

"Another!" I reiterated, thunderstruck by the intelligence; "which?"

"That which retreated first by the Limfi?rd. Tilly overtook it, and forced every regiment successively to lay down its arms. The old corporal has sworn by our Lady of the Seven Sorrows, that ere Yule-day every inch of Danish earth shall be under the dominion of Ferdinand. Christian has fled with all his court--fled none know where, and Denmark is all but conquered! Koeningheim has sent word that Tilly expects to see me daily."

"Can all this be true, Baron Foeyoe?" I asked the steward incredulously, as he joined us at the castle gate.

"About as true as that the Norwegian bears speak very good Danish," he replied, twisting his yellow mustaches and looking spitefully at Carlstein.

"No doubt such tidings are very unpleasant for you, Herr Baron," replied the count, with a haughty and somewhat provoking smile; "but I beg again to assure you that all laid down their arms without firing a shot--all save the Scottish battalions of Lord Nithsdale and Sir James Sinclair of Murkle, who obtained leave to march into Sweden, and join the banner of the young and gallant Gustavus Adolphus."

"It is impossible!" said the stout baron passionately, as he stamped about in his calfskin boots; "it is impossible, and I will never believe it!"

"I had it from the best authority," said the count, still smiling; "Bandolo has been here."

"Bandolo!" I exclaimed; "I had quite forgotten that wretch."

"Well, then, he who is to Tilly what Father Joseph is to Richelieu, has been here."

"Bandolo here,--on this island of Falster?" said the baron, turning angrily to me. "Now, by the holy Dannebrog, mein Herr, your kilted sentinels must be no better than moles or blind bats!"

"A single company of soldiers cannot furnish sentinels for the whole island, Herr Baron," I replied, with some asperity; "there are here a hundred little creeks and bays where a boat may land a man unseen, and sail again. But I thought this rascal died at Heilinghafen."

"He bears a charmed life," growled Foeyoe.

"The deil is aye gude to his ain, as we say at home," said the count; "but to me this rogue appears at present a very amiable and estimable character--ha! ha!"

The passionate old baron took this merriment in deep dudgeon, and retired abruptly.

"Tilly, who knows every thing," continued the count, "on learning that I was here and at liberty, sent a small skiff across the Belt for me--yonder it is afar off, floating like a seagull. At night it will be here to take me to the isle of Fehmarn, where my honour and the emperor's service require my instant presence; for Wallenstein is about to take command of the whole army, and the most brilliant conquests are expected. Ere another year is past, the Swedish rocks and Norwegian Alps shall have echoed to the trumpets of the Empire. I will gladly avail myself of the good queen's offer to leave my daughters here; for in this cold season they could not cross the Belt in an open boat, exposed to the mist by day and dew by night. However, that they may not be dependent even on a queen, I have given Ernestine five hundred doubloons, and, in case war or disaster should reach this peaceful isle, you will protect them--will you not, sir?"

"Oh! count--to the last drop of my blood will I guard them; and, if I request it, they shall never lack protection while one brave heart survives in the regiment of Strathnaver."

"We will never forget that they are the daughters of a countryman--of a brave soldier."

"Enough, captain; in the care of Scottish cavaliers they are safe."

"Yes, count--doubt not that if poor Rollo is knocked on the head, that in Ian Dhu, the Lairds of Kildon or M'Coll, they will find steadfast friends."

"Yours, count?"

"Yes, my ancestors were a branch of the Rollos of Duncruib, in Perthshire."

"Astonishing! we all spring from the same stock."

We shook hands, and would have made other inquiries, but there was no time.

"A name that all men know of, from the shores of the Baltic to the mountains of Carinthia. We have all been so familiar with it, that we never thought of inquiring whether you had another."

"My story is a strange and a sad one; some time I may tell it to you; but not just now."

My soul rose to my lips, and I was about to divulge the secret of my heart--to tell him how I loved Ernestine, and would strive by good works and gallant deeds to make myself worthy of her; but he left me hurriedly, and the opportunity passed, like many others which never return again.

Fear of the Danish burghers in the town made us circumspect, and at midnight I saw him embark in a small dogger manned by four or five men, who immediately put to sea, and long before the morning sun shone upon the waters of the Baltic, which widen there between the Danish isles and Pomeranian shore, the little vessel, speeding before an eastern wind, had vanished at the horizon towards the isle of Fehmarn.

He was gone, and I had forgotten--so much had I been occupied with my own thoughts--to narrate to him that conversation between Tilly and Bandolo, which I had overheard in the bed-chamber of the former at Luneburg. Thus, though Carlstein was not ignorant of the spy's great ambition, to settle down in private life as a count of Hanover, he had no idea that the expected coronet was to be shared with his own daughter--with Ernestine; for, with all its presumption, the project seemed so mad and ridiculous, that it had never until that night made much impression on my mind.

THE ARMS OF EXPECTATION.

On the day after their father's departure, I saw neither Ernestine nor Gabrielle. They were no doubt discomposed by his sudden absence; but they had been so used to see him go and come again, and generally little the worse save a slash or two, that in the evening I expected to meet them in the garden adjoining the royal residence of Nyeki?bing, the spacious donjon tower of which, with its heavy battlements and grated casements, overlooked it. I was not disappointed. From the window of my apartment I saw them walking there, and hurried to meet them.

It was a beautiful autumnal evening; the low flat shore of the island was bordered by a stripe of golden sand, encircled by the glittering waves of a dark blue sea, on which the sunburnt woods of the past summer cast a long and lingering shadow. Behind the yellow beach and its shady woods of brown, the sun like a golden targe began to sink, and as it sank, a million of sparkles seemed to shoot from its descending disc; down, slowly down it went; the wavering rays shot further upward; they played upon the clouds above, and lingered long there after the sun itself had disappeared; then a deeper blue spread over the waters of the Guldborg Sound--those waters among which Gr?n Jette--or the Green Giant--shot a beautiful mermaid, whom he had pursued round Falster for seven years and a day; the woods appeared in darker outline against the lurid sky, and their crisped leaves rustled in the rising wind, as the evening deepened.

Gabrielle was looking sadly towards the sea, as if she was pondering on the path their father was pursuing; but Ernestine had seated herself, and was embroidering on the cover of a large Roman missal, a coat of arms with gold and variously coloured thread. Poor Ernestine's ideas of Catholicism were not very well defined, and consisted more in forms than belief; for nearly all that her Spanish mother had taught her in infancy, the mother of Gabrielle--a French or Belgian Protestant--had left no means untried to obliterate; but Ernestine loved to do all that she thought would please her mother who was in heaven; she loved, as she said, to consider herself "the peculiar care of the mother of God;" she read more prayers than usual in the month of May, and decorated her little altar with the lilies of Mary; but her opinions were very vague and undecided. She and Gabrielle said their prayers every night and morning together on their knees, and before a crucifix; yet Gabrielle did not consider herself a Catholic. Ernestine seemed the most devout in the queen's train when in the Lutheran church of Nyeki?bing, yet she would have repelled with scorn the imputation of being a Protestant. They had both been taken frequently to task by Father d'Eydel, but his asceticism and his harangues rather terrified them; and, being almost entirely occupied by military duty and dreams of ambition, the count had permitted them both to please themselves. Ernestine had an intense love for Gabrielle, and her regard for Gabrielle's mother had only been second to that which she bore her own.

There was but one heart--one soul seemed to animate these two winning creatures.

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