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BEING THE story of stille
MAEGTH, HER STRANGE BEwitch-
MENT AND HER won D. R O US
SoNG AND HOW SHE CAME TO
LOVE A MORTAL MAN
º
FREDERIC wººd EN PANGBoºn
L. C. P.A.G. F. G. C. C. M. P. A. N. Y.





32
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, Che Silent Maid,
BEING THE STORY OF STILLE
MAEGTH, HER STRANGE BEWITCH-
MENT AND HER WOND ROUS
SONG, AND HOW SHE CAME TO
LOVE A MORTAL MAN
BY
FREDERIC WERDEN PANGBORN


. ."
Yºrf;:
* *
S; ; ; , ,
Y-Y : • *
- º
ºr Libº-
'***
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
THE NEW YORK
PUBLIC LIBRARY
jº
Astºk, tº av AND
TILDLM Fºl ºf Arions
R 1941 L
Copyright, 1903
By L. C. PAGE & CoMPANY
(INCORPoRATED)
All rights reserved
Published, May, 1903
Colonial press
Boston, Mass., U. S. A.


M
J
f
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. How the Silent Maid Came into
the Story 9
II. How the Baron Von RabenhOrst
Stole the Child .... 48
III. What Followed the Escape from
the Forest 71
IV. Why Hammerschlaag Made War to
Get the Maid 95
V. What Followed the Marriage of
the Baron 116
VI. How RabenhOrst Prevailed Against
His Foe 147
VII. How the Maiden Came to Love a
Mortal Man 178
VIII. What Happened after RabenhOrst's
Return 203





THE SILENT MAID
*E*
CHAPTER I
HOW THE SILENT MAID CAME INTO THE
STORY
IN the cool, gray twilight of mid-
summer evening, that hour of brief
calm which frequently comes upon the
mountain lands between the setting of
the sun and the rising of the night
winds, the Baron von Rabenhörst sat
at ease before the window of his favour-
ite apartment, and gazed in deep medi-
[ 9 J


The Silent Maid
tation out upon the domain that was
his own. Far as the eye could view
the prospect, even to the uttermost
summits of the distant ranges that
marked the limits of his possessions,
there was nothing upon which another
might tread his foot, save by the grace
of Rabenhorst, nothing upon which
he could not bravely lay his hand and
proudly say "'tis mine." The castle in
which he dwelt and the lands about it,
these, in sooth, had been so long the
ancestral home of his family, that there
was no certitude even as to the precise
period at which they had their begin-
ning, and tradition had long added its
charm to the more or less accurate his-
tory by which the story of their years
had grown.
[ 10]


The Silent Maid
He, of course, knew the boundaries
of the domain that had been his father's
grandfather's, for that was not ancient
history as the Rabenhorsts cited his-
tory, and could easily tell what new
lands had been added with the coming
of each succeeding generation that fol-
lowed; but back of that the records
failed and merged themselves into a
maze of folk-tales and legends, not un-
mixed at certain points with an inter-
esting dash of the supernatural. But
this only pleased the Baron, and in-
creased his sense of pride. In truth, a
family that had none of these things,
and could only trace itself back to a
definite point, was one with which he
cared to have no dealings, unless it
were to make war upon it, and drive
[»]


The Silent Maid
it out and seize its lands to add them
to his own. Such had always been
the practice of the Barons Rabenhorst,
down to his own time, during which
he had succeeded in spreading the limits
of his princedom, until all that was
visible from the ancient castle's watch-
tower owed allegiance to him.
Long ago, ages back, in fact, as the
peasants measure time, the first Raben-
horst, having won his rights as usurper
of the mountain upon whose summit
the castle subsequently raised its impreg-
nable walls, had said that, not until
the Sun could rise and set upon the
Rabenhorsts alone should his descend-
ants sheathe the sword and cultivate the
arts of peace. Whether this story be
true or not is of little moment. Each
[ »]


The Silent Maid
successor had believed it, and each in
his turn had done his best to carry out
the plan, until, little by little, and at
what fearful cost of blood and suffering
no man knew, — for they kept no rec-
ord of such things, — Roderich, the last
of the line, found himself, in middle
life, the undisputed possessor of "the
limits of the rising and the setting of
the Sun." The prophecy of the first
Rabenhorst had been fulfilled; and,
weary of war and heartsick in his lone-
liness, — for the struggle, as he found
it, had been so continuously severe that
he had no time for anything else, — he
thankfully laid aside his battle-axe and
spear and sword, and said that he would
rest.
It would be difficult, in this age, to
[ «3]


The Silent Maid
respect, who brooked no undue famil-
iarity, even from his equals in title,
and signed his letters "Roderich," as
though he were a king.
The years that followed upon his
withdrawal from incessant conflict, he
spent in strengthening his position,
that nothing which the Rabenhorsts
had gained might be lost. For he
knew well that the friends of such a
man as himself were few, and that
nothing would satisfy certain others
better than to strip him of the results
of the centuries of conquests which were
now become a trust in his unaided
individual hand. So he kept his sub-
jects ever drilled in the arts of war as
well as in the arts of peace, reforti-
fied his castle, dug new moats, built
'
[>5]


The Silent Maid
watch-towers at proper points in the
mountains, and, in every way he could
devise, brought his petty kingdom to
a state of vigour and prosperity. Be-
ing a wise man, as well as a brave
soldier, he also cultivated his people,
and taught them, by fair dealing and
much kindness, that their interests were
safest with him. He was a generous
taskmaster and just, kind to women and
tender with little children, and withal
charitable beyond question for a man
of his time. So the peasants blessed him,
and called him good, and no man who
dwelt under his protection wished him
ill. And yet he grew sad and lonely,
with each advancing year that brought
him added peace and comfort, for he
[ 16]


The Silent Maid
bring him contentment. He could have
married at any time, — for it is not dif-
ficult for a prince to secure a princess
from the ranks of women, — but every
time he tested the suggestion, he keenly
perceived that it was not himself, but
what he had, that won the lady's heart.
He wanted a wife — this he frankly con-
fessed to himself at all times — and he
needed an heir who should succeed him,
but he wanted more to love and be loved.
So he delayed marriage, always in the
hope that chance would yet send him
his heart's desire. And the people won-
dered why he took no woman to wife,
and sometimes shook their heads sol-
emnly, and said it was not good their
master should thus dwell in solitude, and
that he give them no son to govern and
[ 18 ]


The Silent Maid
protect them when he should be gone;
and aged Godgifu, who had lived in
the castle so many years she could not
count them, and who was his nurse when
he was a child, would sometimes mildly
chide him for his omission of duty to
the family, and ask him why it was
he brought no mistress to the castellany,
and raised no child that should extend
his name.
At such times as this, he would smile
upon the old nurse sadly, and bid her
come and sit beside him and tell him
of his mother and her life, — for Ra-
benhorst had never seen her, — and ask
what manner of woman she was, and
was she happy with his father, and did
the people love and honour her, and
what sort of a life they all led under
[»9]


The Silent Maid
her rule, until, having started the old
woman upon her favourite theme, she
would become garrulous and forget to
press him on the main point. So noth-
ing ever came of the suggestions made by
Godgifu, and she had to keep her wor-
ries to herself. But she never ceased to
pray for her master, and to ask the good
God to bring him a wife and son. And
the Baron pursued his lonely life as be-
fore, and grew more sad and restless
every year.
The Baron von Rabenhorst had lived
beyond the fiftieth year of life before
completing the task of his ancestors, and
it was about ten years before the open-
ing of the story that he first saw the
Silent Maid. Whether it was decreed
by fate that he should meet her, or a
[ao]


The Silent Maid
mere accident, or the result of old proph-
ecy, no one ever could tell; though God-
gifu always said it was the prophecy,
and there were other very old people
among the peasants who held the same
view, some of whom said it was the will
of the good God that it should end that
way, while others insisted that a proper
exercise of wisdom on the Baron's part
would have made his misfortunes impos-
sible. "For," said they, "had he chosen
a suitable wife when he should, the maid
could not have won his heart and brought
misfortune on his later years." No one
had ever had the courage to speak to
him, which was not strange, and even
Godgifu herself deserved no censure,
although she knew the prophecy, for
she had no knowledge of the Baron's
[21 ]


The Silent Maid
fondness for the maid until it was too
late to warn him. After that, a protest
even from her would have been equiv-
alent to uttering her own death-warrant,
for the Baron was not a man to be
crossed. But Rabenhorst knew of the
prophecy, for he had it long before from
his father. It held no terrors for him,
however, since it was not in his nature
or training to dread anything, and he
even made light of it, and deemed it
nothing better than an old wife's tale.
Forty years of life in the grim presence
of siege and battle, and a habit of abso-
lute self-reliance that was part of his
ancestral heritage, had rendered him
impatient of all tradition that smacked
of superstition.
And this was the prophecy handed
[aa]


The Silent Maid
down by word of mouth among the
people of the castellany of the Barons
von Rabenhorst, made, it was said, in
the dead of night, by a mad woman,
whom the first Rabenhorst had stolen
captive, from a conquered neighbour-
ing lord, and who shrieked it from the
parapets of the castle, while her captor
lay dying in the tower:
"Tyrant Lord of Rabenhorst,
By thy crimes forever curst: —
Keep thy castles; keep thy lands;
Keep thy conquered servile bands;
Keep thy treasures; keep thy gold;
Keep the price of honour sold;
Keep thy gains, nor heed the woes
Wrought upon thy self-made foes.
All the plunderings of the sword
Well befit a tyrant lord.
Yet moor and mountain, field and flood
Still allegiance owe to God; .
[ n ]


The Silent Maid
Draw their warmth from Heaven above,
Home of light and peace and love.
Subject to His will alone,
Nature knows no despot's throne,
Fears no tyrant, loves no king,
Gives to man no reckoning.
Tyrant Lord of Rabenhorst,
In thy heart forever curst —
Man of avarice and hate,
Keep thy gains, and face thy fate.
Love shall never come to thee,
Through the years that onward flee.
Hands with murder gory red
111 prepare the marriage-bed.
Tyrant Lord of Rabenhorst,
Be thy loves forever curst.
Love is ne'er begot of strife.
Seek no maiden bride to wife.
Heed the warning, while you may —
God and Nature speak — obey!"
Who this mad woman was, not even
the most shrewd of the wisest old gran-
dams had ever assumed to positively say.
[h]


The Silent Maid
But a very ancient legend, handed down
from a period so remote that none might
doubt its genuineness, clearly stated that
she had been the wife of a minor baron,
who loved her very dearly; and that
this minor baron, having been mortally
wounded in the defence of his estate,
had warned his slayer, the first of the
Rabenhorsts, against certain fearful con-
sequences that would ensue if he made
her captive, and, with his dying words,
had urged him to set her free that she
might " return to her people and mingle
no more with mortal men." This, the
legend said, was the precise form of the
request; and out of the suggestion thus
made, the natural inference was that the
woman had her origin somewhere apart
from men, and was, so the story ran, a
[ *5 ]


The Silent Maid
daughter of immortals. Some believed
her to have been a stray child of the
Undines, whose love for her husband had
kept her long among the mortals; but
others, reading the prophecy as the utter-
ance of an evil mind, said this could
scarcely be correct, since the Undines
were not cruel, and gave it as their opin-
ion that it was more probable she claimed
sisterhood with the Erl-folk or other
sprites of the forests, many of whom
were known to be vindictive, and that
perhaps her hatred of the first Raben-
horst was due to his killing of her be-
loved lord. "For," said they, " it is well-
known that, when an Erl-sprite loves a
mortal, she never loves but once, and
loves no other human thing. Probably
this sprite chose her love, and was happy

[a6]


The Silent Maid
to wed a maid, but each in his turn had
wooed, or bought, or captured his wife
— as occasion best favoured — from
among the ranks of women previously
married to other men, and none of them,
within the memory of the oldest romance
that chronicled the family history, had
ever married for love. Should such an
event transpire, at any time, the gossips
always said, there was good reason to
believe it would be followed by calam-
ity and the immediate extinction of the
family.
Ten years before the coming of the
day when the sun should rise and set
on Rabenhorst alone, the Baron Rod-
erich, returning from a solitary journey
through the forests, found himself, at
[a8 ]


The Silent Maid
nightfall, in a densely wooded glen too
far from his castle to admit of his ar-
rival there before the darkness should
enfold him. He was weary and hun-
gry, and saw little prospect of getting
food or shelter. The lack of shelter did
not annoy him, — he was too hardy for
that, — but the want of nourishment did,
for he was a lusty man and proud of a
vigorous appetite. There was yet light
enough to see near-by objects well. The
glen seemed cosy, and a good place in
which to pass the night, and there was
water in a brook that babbled through
the forests, and ample grazing for his
horse; so he dismounted, turned the
creature loose to feed, and, taking with
him a light huntsman's bow and some
arrows, strolled slowly onward, hoping
[*9]


The Silent Maid
to secure some belated bird or burrower
that might furnish him a meal.
For some time he continued his walk,
following the trend of the brook, and
wishing he had the means of catching
a fish, — for there were many there, —
occasionally turning upward toward the
mountain, as he pursued his quest, or
pressing into the thicker underbrush
that lined the waterway at intervals, but
nothing that would serve could he dis-
cover. An hour spent in this manner
added to his weariness and hunger, and
did not tend to improve his naturally
imperious temper. He could hear his
horse moving about and evidently enjoy-
ing his evening repast, and this, too,
added to his sense of appetite and made
the matter worse. Barring the sounds
[ 3o ]


The Silent Maid
made by the horse and the rustling of
his own movements, there were no others.
All was silence. There was not even the
usual fluttering of the leaves upon the
trees, for there was as yet no wind. He
began to feel lonely, accustomed though
he was to being alone, and the feeling
wore upon his nerves, and made him
both sad and irritable. It would soon
be dark, and then he could expect noth-
ing. So he retraced his steps, following
the sounds made by the horse, and pre-
pared to endure the coming night in
patience.
Suddenly the silence, that lay like the
calm of death upon the glen, was broken
by a voice, and the man paused spell-
bound where he stood. It seemed a hu-
man voice that cut upon the stillness of
[3i ]


The Silent Maid
the falling night, and yet again it scarcely
sounded like the voice of ordinary mor-
tal, its utterance was so weird, its words
— if words they were — so strangely
vague and elf-like. The voice was
scarcely that of one who spoke, but rather
that of one who sang, and yet it was not
music such as he often heard that smote
upon his ear, but something strangely
different. Low at first, now shrilly ris-
ing to a strength and volume that seemed
to load the higher air above with floods
of melody, then gradually falling away
into faintest whisperings, that sobbed
and quivered like the notes of a dying
bird, the music came to him, as he stood
there listening, entranced, bewildered,
wondering, not daring to move lest he
lose one note that he would catch; and,
[3*]


The Silent Maid
Hear the Elf-king's trumpet ring:
Answer echo; answer king.
La-la, La-la, who shall tell
Where the Erl-men's daughters dwell ?
Glen and forest, far and free,
Answer to their melody.
La-la, La-la, La-li-o:
Hither come and thither go.
“La-la, La-la, La-li-o:
Hither come and thither go.
Cloudlets, floating in the air,
Ever soaring, white and fair,
Take me up, and let me be,
Sister-friends, as one of ye.
Where do all the cloudlets go?
Sister-spirits, let me know.
La-la, La-la, La-li-o:
Hither come and thither go.
“La-la, La-la, La-li-o:
Hither come and thither go.
Spirits of the dell below,
Tell me how the flowers grow.
[34]


The Silent Maid
surrender half my wealth and lands to
have a child like that. Hal —"
The song suddenly ceased. There was
a pause. Then followed an outburst of
laughter, clear, merry, and jovial, the
hearty, happy laughter of a care-un-
knowing child. It was so contagious
that the Baron gave way to its inspira-
tion, and began to laugh himself.
"It is a child," he said. "What joy
to possess a child like that! What happi-
ness to feel the influence of its presence;
to hear it sing, and laugh, and have it
always with one. Old Godgifu is right.
I should have married, long ago, and
had a child to cheer me in my lonely
home. But yet," he murmured, after
a pause, " who knows? Would my child
be like this one? Have any of my line
136 1


The Silent Maid
been like to this? I know that I was not.
A diet of wars and constant strivings to
master a world that is hardly worth the
having when one gets it, makes no happy
childhood. Godgifu may be right, but
I doubt it. Merriment and lightsome-
ness of heart are not the heritage of the
Rabenhorsts. I will see this child. Per-
haps I may coax its parents to let me
have it. These peasants are not difficult
to deal with. Of course I shall have
trouble with their lord, if I carry them
and their child to my abode, but" — and
the grim look of the warrior darkened
his face an instant —" that is nothing.
One small war more or less is naught
with us."
Thereupon he strode rapidly in the
direction whence had come the sounds,
[37]


The Silent Maid
parently oblivious to any change in the
situation.
As the Baron von Rabenhorst studied
the child, he noted that her face was
no unfit companion to her voice. In
its way it was equally beautiful, and
the lithe and graceful body that sat
erect upon the turf, that, too, he saw
was good, and gave promise of a su-
perbly gracious beauty, by and by. After
a time she seemed to be aware of his
presence, and looked him fair in the
face. Her expression was calm and be-
tokened no sense of alarm or surprise,
but rather a quiet friendliness that
seemed to say: "I see you. Be at
ease;" and then he noticed that the eyes
that gazed into his were of a marvellous
size and hue, and that there was a some-
[39]


The Silent Maid
thing in them that did not give the im-
pression of childhood he would expect
to find in one so young, but spoke of
mysteries unfathomed save by those of
riper years.
At length he addressed her, speaking
as men usually do to children, asking
her name, her age, her father's name,
and such things, but to each question
her answer was the same:
"Stille-Maegth."
Several times, and with all the gen-
tleness of a man naturally kind to chil-
dren, he essayed to make her talk, —
for it was presumable she could talk if
she wanted to do so, — but without suc-
cess. No matter what he asked, no mat-
ter what his suggestion, the reply was
always:
[4o]


The Silent Maid
"Stille-Msegth."
This, and nothing more.
"Surely, little one," said he, "thou'rt
not afraid to speak with me. I am the
Baron von Rabenhorst, owner of the
mountains and the valleys and all
the lands that lie beyond these hills.
Everybody knows of me, and children
count me always a friend — whatever
men may say to the contrary," he added
under his breath. "May I not become
thy friend, too? Wilt thou not sing
for me again? 'Tis very pleasing to
hear thee sing. Wilt thou sing for me
again, little one?"
She looked him frankly in the eyes,
and seemed to understand, but her words
were as before:
"Stille-Maegth."
[4i]


The Silent Maid
as he smiled upon the child, and stroked
her hand with his big rough fingers,
fingers better fitted, he thought, to grasp
a spear than hold so frail a thing as
seemed this tiny hand. "A mystery,
indeed. She is fearless, and has no dread
of me. She smiles upon me as though
she understood my every word. She lets
me hold her hand, she is willing to kiss
me. She sings like an angel, or a wild-
wood fairy. She can speak, and speak
a language familiar to me. She plainly
is no mute. And yet, all she can seem
to say is just these two short words, which
she speaks as one. 'Silent-Maid.' If
that be her name I must confess it seems
a goodly fit. And yet she is not silent,
for I have heard her sing. Whatever
be her station or condition, I feel that
[43 ]


The Silent Maid
I must have her. Already my heart goes
out to her as never to any other I have
seen. It is not the common love of man
for maid that moves me thus, for she
is but a child. In that respect the maid
is not for me. But yet I love her already
to that degree I'd wage untiring war
upon the man who sought to take her
from me. Ah, God! to think that I
should find, at last, a creature I can love
and that seems to be fond of me, — in
a strange way, it is true, but with evident
sincerity. Would'st thou like to go with
me, far away, to live in the mountains,"
he said, smiling encouragingly upon the
child, "and become my little maid, and
have me love thee always?"
She gently stroked his beard with her
disengaged hand, much as one might

[44]


The Silent Maid
caress a favourite dog, and gave the same
answer as before:
"Stille-MsEgth."
There was no one present but them-
selves, and it seemed strange to Raben-
horst that this should be so. "Surely,"
said he, " this child must have some one
to care for her. No child could live in
a place like this. There is not even a
cave in which one might find shelter
from the rain. Possibly she has strayed
from her home. I would not steal her
from father or mother. But I cannot
leave her here to pass the night. I will
carry her down to my resting-place, and,
in the morning, will seek her father and
arrange to have him come with his fam-
ily to my domain. Come, little one," he
said aloud, "we cannot remain here all
[45]


The Silent Maid
night. Let us go down the glen to my
horse. See! Thus I take thee in my
big strong arms, that have had no child
to love ere this, and bear thee next my
heart. May I always wear thee so?"
He stooped and tenderly lifted the
child. She made no resistance, and, as
he folded her close to his breast, she
threw her arms about his neck, and drew
his face to hers. He turned his head and
softly kissed her cheek, and she nestled
in his embrace contentedly, as he started
off, filled with an emotion so intense that
a tear stood clear and bright upon his
face, — the first he remembered ever to
have shed.
"Little one," said he, "I love thee.
Be my child."
But the maiden only answered:
[46]


The Silent Maid
"Stille-Maegth."
And quickly fell asleep.
It was of this night, ten years be-
fore, that the Baron von Rabenhorst was
thinking, in the cool gray twilight of
midsummer evening, as he sat at ease
before the window of his favourite apart-
ment, and gazed, in deep meditation,
out upon the domain that was his own.
For the morrow was to be his wedding-
day, and the Silent Maid his bride.
[47]


CHAPTER II
HOW THE BARON VON RABENHORST
STOLE THE CHILD
W ITH the sleeping child tenderly
clasped to his breast, Roderich von
Rabenhorst carefully picked his way
toward the opening in the glen where
his horse was peacefully grazing, and
softly called the animal. It raised its
head, neighed once faintly, as though it,
too, recognised the rights of the little
slumberer in its master's arms, and came
quickly.
"So, so, gently, Graf," said he. "We
have a new companion for the night,
[48]


The Silent Maid
and one thou must bear softly on the
morrow to our home. In truth, thou'lt
need to curb thy mettle much, with such
a tender charge, and cease to think of
soldier ways, until the journey's end."
He patted the beast with his disen-
gaged hand, and was about to lift him-
self with his burden to the saddle, when
an aged woman suddenly rushed upon
him from the woods, and made attempt
to seize the child. He restrained her
firmly, but without violence, and forced
her back a step before he spoke to her.
"Gently, little mother, gently," said
he. "Not so fast. But have no fear.
I would not harm thee or the child.
What she is to thee, I know not, but
'tis plain she is not of thy bearing. Too
old art thou to mother one so young, and
[49]


The Silent Maid
much I doubt she is of kindred stock
with thee. Flowers so rare bloom not on
such a tree. But tell me of the child,
that I may know her keepers, and seek
them on the morrow to make dealing
with them. For it is my intent to take
her with me to my home."
An instant the aged creature made
motion, as though she would again at-
tempt to take the child, but a glance from
the Baron and an impatient gesture
checked her. She then fell upon her
knees and began to moan and cry pit-
eously, clasping her hands in an attitude
of prayer to him, and was plainly in great
distress; but she spoke no words. The
Baron began to grow angry, and lost
something of his self-control.
"Saints and devils 1" he said, " is this
[50]


The Silent Maid
tellest what is true, thy friend am I from
this hour on; lie to me, and no power
can save thee. Speak!"
The woman appeared to comprehend
the intent of his words, for, with every
sentence, she showed, by gestures and
expressions, that his meaning was clear
to her; but, when he finished, she made
no audible reply beyond a renewal of
her moans and cries.
"Tush! " said he; "but this is weari-
ness. If thou hast no words to give, at
least point the way to those who have,
that I may have speech with them, at
morn, before I take the child away; for
go she shall, of this be well assured. No
sign? Then let us end this parley, for
the night is on, and rest is needed ere the
morrow's faring."
"X
[5^]


The Silent Maid
He quickly mounted his horse, with
the child still sleeping on his heart, and
was about to ride slowly down the glen
to his camping-place, when the old
woman suddenly sprang to her feet, ut-
tered a frightful scream, and vanished,
or seemed to vanish, in the waters of the
brook that ran close by. With the utter-
ance of her cry, a thousand voices seemed
to fill the air at once, above, below, and
on every side, as though a host of rudely
wakened spirits had been startled from
their slumbers, each one filled with fear.
A moment these clamourings beat upon
the night, then ceased, and silence
reigned again.
Rabenhorst, although a man of sturdy
mould, and one not easily unnerved, was
startled by the suddenness of the strange
{.53 1


The Silent Maid
outburst of sound, and a sense of doubt,
that was somewhat fearsome, though he
had no real fear of anything, came upon
him. But he quickly recovered, remem-
bering his charge, and spoke to his horse,
that stood, a rigid figure, rooted to the
spot, and seemed unable to move. The
thought flashed through the mind of the
man that it was well the animal had not
bolted, and he was grateful, as he realised
what injury this might cause in such a
thickly wooded country. His next act
was to look at the child. It slept peace-
fully, and had not been disturbed.
"Strange," he muttered, as he lightly
kissed the rippling hair that lay upon
his shoulder. "One would suppose such
hideous sounds could rouse the very
dead. What was it caused them? Surely
[54]


The Silent Maid
not that aged crone? And yet mayhap
'twas she. Some of these forest people
know the echoes as familiars. Yes; the
case is plain. The voices were but echoes
of her cry. There is no danger here.
'Tis but a spell of patience till the dawn,
and then away. So, good horse.”
Thus urging his beast onward in the
darkness, he started again, the child held
safely in his arm, and was feeling more
calm, when a new sound fell upon his
keenly sensitive ears, that caused him to
rein in and listen. It seemed distant,
yet had the quality of an approaching
presence he could almost feel, and a sense
of uneasiness at the darkness came upon
him and made him wish for light that
he might see what peril, if peril it were,
was drawing near. At first this sound
[ 55 I


The Silent Maid
was soft and mellow, like the running
of a river over stony places; then it be-
came less gentle, and a touch of menace
mingled with its lighter tones; and, as
it drew yet nearer, and he knew it was
coming, he perceived it had grown to the
dimensions of the voice of rushing wa-
ters, and that danger, real and not fanci-
ful, was upon him.
The brook, that peacefully rippled
through the glen, was rising rapidly, —
this he knew by its sound, — and was
already lapping the feet of his horse,
who showed by his restlessness that he
was conscious of danger. It would not be
long before the waters would become too
deep for safety. The darkness was in-
tense now, and haste was impossible;
yet hasten he must. Firmly grasping his
[ 56 ]


The Silent Maid
hurthng down the flood and threatened
speedy death; but he pressed steadily
onward, occasionally encouraging his
horse with calming words. New voices
now came to him, mingled with the babel
of the waters, and whisperings, strange
and uncanny, beat upon his ears. There
were moanings, too, and cries of spirits
in the air, and once he heard a call dis-
tinctly uttered from the mountain-top
and answered by another in the glen
below.
Something seemed to brush against his
cheek, and faintly plead with him to
abandon the child, telling him he must
not take her away, and threatening him
with calamity if he did; and then he
heard again the moanings of the aged
woman, this time answered by a chorus
[ 58 J


The Silent Maid
of cries and wailings. But these things
only made him bitter and more deter-
mined than before to keep the maid, who
still slept peacefully next his heart, and
did not wake. The waters were roaring
like a cataract, and rising high up the
sides of the hills; but he kept pressing
upward, as they rose, and managed to
escape the flood. His horse was weary
now, and could scarcely struggle on, but
he bravely did his best, stumbling and
halting in the gloom, and picking his
way with care, as opportunity offered.
The wind was rising, too, and brought
an added danger as it blew down the
trees that seemed to be thrown across the
way with purposeful design.
In the midst of this confusion of winds
and waters, and just as the jaded horse
\.S9~\
-'-


The Silent Maid
had cleared the onrushing of a sudden
rising of the stream, a hand was laid
upon the arm of the Baron, and a melo-
dious voice, that fell upon his sense, amid
the tumult of the night sounds, like a
strain of music threading its way amid
the thunderings of a cannonade, ad-
dressed him. He could make nothing
of the presence of the speaker, for the
darkness was so profound that only the
barest outlines of near-by objects were
discernible, and yet he felt no fear at
the sudden meeting with this unseen be-
ing, so peacefully it spoke. He was not
even certain that he could see the figure
of the speaker at all, but rather felt than
saw; and the touch of its hand upon his
arm was so very soft that even this seemed
[ 6o J


The Silent Maid
doubtful. And the words of the voice
were simply these:
"Tyrant Lord of Rabenhorst,
By thy crimes forever curst,
Love shall never come to thee,
Through the years that onward flee.
Hands with murder gory red
111 prepare the marriage-bed.
Love is ne'er begot of strife.
Seek no maiden bride to wife.
Heed the warning while you may.
God and Nature speak — Obey."
Rabenhorst had not remembered the
lines of the mad woman's curse for so
many years that he might almost have
been said to have forgotten them. But,
as they came to him now, it seemed but
yesterday that his father had told him
the story of which they were a part, and
he began to ask himself if there was
[61 ]


The Silent Maid
the soft, sweet waft that warmed his
cheek entranced him and filled him with
a sense of calm.
"No, little love," he murmured, ten-
derly, "it was not thou. The curse of
the Rabenhorsts concerns not thee.
Sleep on. 'Twas memory, and these
accursed noises and the gloom, enough,
in sooth, to bring the phantoms of a hun-
dred ages back and set a man of brass
romancing."
He kissed her on the brow, and, tight-
ening his rein, spoke to the horse again.
"Up, good boy! Once more, and then
a rest. Let us but clear the valley, and
wait until the dawn. So!"
The brave beast resumed his tedious
ascent in the darkness, but his progress
was very slow, for up here on the higher
[ *3 ]


The Silent Maid
ground the undergrowth was close, and
the hill was very stony and covered with
boulders. He paused, at times, from
sheer exhaustion, and his strength was
fast giving out, but it would not do to
stop yet, for the rising of waters could
still be heard below, and safety lay above.
So Rabenhorst urged him on. How
long this progress lasted, the Baron could
not tell, but it seemed it never would
end. He was growing weak himself, for
the child lay heavy now upon his arm,
and realised he could not long hold out.
The wailing of the voices in the valley
did not cease, and the roarings of the
waters made incessant accompaniment to
the wild, tumultuous singing of the
storm. And still the maiden slept.
It could not last forever. With a pit-
[64]


The Silent Maid
eous sigh, the noble charger, who had
so often borne his master through the
thickest of his battles, staggered, made
effort to recover, failed, and dropped
upon his knees, whinnied once, and died.
Even in his death-moment he had not
forgotten to spare the man who loved
him the danger of a fall. Thus had he
been taught to do, in other days, when
bearing wounded men; thus had he been
trained to do his duty.
Kneeling beside the faithful creature,
the Baron touched his head, felt for the
pulse-waves in his heart, and, feeling
nothing, knew his friend was dead. But
it was not a time for musing, and the
child was still alive; so, striking out in
the darkness, he pursued his way on foot,
[65]


The Silent Maid
painfully feeling out such path as seemed
the safest.
He was far up the mountain now, and
out of reach of the waters. He prepared
to pause and rest for the night, for he
was so weary that longer progress would
soon become impossible. The loss of his
faithful horse, too, filled him with in-
tense sorrow. He would wait for the
sunlight.
He was about to stop, and had already
prepared to lay his burden down upon
some mossy growth he chanced upon,
when he suddenly became aware of an-
other's presence. Something was stealth-
ily creeping toward him in the gloom,
but whether man or beast, he could not
yet decide. The instincts of the soldier
and the huntsman responded at once to

x
[66]


The Silent Maid
this new danger, and he turned about
and faced the direction of the sound, at
the instant drawing a short sword that
hung at his side. The child still slept
upon his left shoulder, for he had not
yet laid her down. And then again he
heard the cry that startled him before,
the piercing shriek of the aged beldame
of the glen, and, after that, the sad,
strange waitings of the answering night.
Strung to the uttermost pitch of his
mental endurance by the trials of the
past hours, and filled with a sense of
rage at the repetition of these fearful
sounds, he strode at once in the direction
of the first shrill cry, and came upon its
author. She was moaning and gesturing
as before, and seemed, in the gloom, to
mock him. She stretched forth her .[67]
'€i£V
n^.


The Silent Maid
hands to seize the child. The suggestion
maddened him. With one full sweep
of his free right arm, he swung his sword
about, and struck the head from her body
as she stood.
What happened after this, the Baron
von Rabenhorst could never distinctly
remember. Immediately the air was
filled with shrieks of woe and frightful
cries of anguish, and there was an on-
rushing as of many winged creatures
hurrying toward the spot; the thunder-
ings of the storm increased, the flash of
fitful lightning was added to the terrors
of the night; crashing bolts descended
upon the mountain; winds tore up great
trees and cast them in the air; and,
underneath the chorus of these myriad
[68]


The Silent Maid
midnight cries, the diapason of the wa-
ters moaned.
With the child close clasped to his now
rapidly beating heart, and his dripping
sword ready in his hand, he rushed
sternly onward along the mountainside,
sometimes with comparative ease, for the
undergrowth was less than lower down,
again with constant stumblings and many
narrow escapes from sudden falls. And,
as he went, he knew he was being pur-
sued by things he could dimly see, that
darted in and out among the trees and
mocked him and tried to reach out and
check his progress, and that shrieked as
he threatened them with his bloody
blade, and snatched at his burden and
cried in fear or hate as he passed them
by. And once, one of these mysterious
<
[69]


The Silent Maid
beings crept behind him and whispered
the words of the curse in his ear; and
another far up the mountain sang them
in a dreadful tone, like a devil's incan-
tation, and it made him shudder. But
he still pressed on, sometimes striking at
his pursuers with his sword, that never
seemed to harm them, again going dog-
gedly forward, as though he did not see
them, — until a suddenly discovered
opening in the trees disclosed an ancient
clearing, and goats that browsed upon a
moonlit hill.
He had crossed the mountain, in his
flight, and stood once more upon the land
that was his own.
[7o]


CHAPTER III
WHAT FOLLOWED THE ESCAPE FROM
THE FOREST
1 HE clearing upon which the Baron
had come, in his flight from the forest,
was an allotment made by the master
of the castellany, long ago, to Swarz, an
aged goatherd, formerly a loyal vassal
of the previous Rabenhorst, who had
served him well in many of his wars
with the neighbour princes, and to whom
this privilege had been granted as re-
ward. The old man dwelt with his
wife in a hut not far away; and thither
the Baron turned his steps, with the child
C?i]


The Silent Maid
still sleeping in his arms. He was now
utterly overcome by weariness, and
greatly in need of rest.
The night was waning now, and the
first pale tints of coming sunlight began
to show upon the distant mountains
toward the east, although the light that
filled the clearing was still of the moon.
Down below the pasture, upon the edge
of a coppice, through which ran a brook,
the home of the goatherd was plainly
discernible, — a grayish pile of rudely
built-up rocks and crudely moulded
thatch. A monster dog, rough-coated
and of hideous aspect, paced slowly back
and forth in the foreground, like a grim
sentinel on guard, and mouthed a surly
bay at intervals, as the man drew near.
"Hell's curse!" he muttered, as he


The Silent Maid
perceived the brute. "Must I kill him,
too? Another time 'twould be a task
scarce worthy of the effort, but now my
hand is tired and holds no certain grip.
The hound is large and powerful, too,
and lacks not courage, as I know of old.
Alone I would not fear him, even now;
but with the child — The devil's death
upon that swinish lout within! Why
wakes he not to stay his beast and greet
his master? There's noise enough, in
sooth, to stir the sleeping Wodan in his
rest, or drown the hammerings of mighty
Thor. Holla! Holla, there! " he called,
in sharp, clear tones. "Arouse, good
Swarz!" at the moment laying the child
upon the grass, and stepping forward,
with sword in hand, to meet the coming
[73]


The Silent Maid
onslaught of the dog that seemed about
to charge.
But the animal did not charge, as dogs
most often do at such a challenge. He
advanced slowly, snarling as he came,
and seemed disposed to take the conflict
deliberately. The man braced himself,
anticipating the spring of the huge body
that would surely bear him down, if he
failed to thrust with prompt precision at
the instant. He knew that, once in the
hold of the dog, a battle at close quarters
would result in death, for then his
weapon would be useless, and he could
not hope to cope with the beast bare-
handed, in his present weakened state.
He cast a hasty glance behind him at
the child upon the ground. She had
awakened, and was standing, with out-
[ 74 ]


The Silent Maid
stretched arms extended toward the sav-
age brute, and seemed to have no fear of
him. Von Rabenhorst was so astounded
at the sight that he forgot to keep his
attention on the dog, for an instant, and
might have been killed at once, had fate
so willed it. But the creature had paused
in his advance, and was now watching
the child. His snarling, too, had ceased,
and he no longer showed his teeth in
anger. In a moment, the Baron recov-
ered himself and resumed his defensive
attitude. There was a sound of life in
the hut, and the tones of voices, that
showed the inmates were at last aroused.
Suddenly there burst upon the night
the music of a strange, weird song. The
child was singing again, as she sang be-
fore in the forest, wild, unheard-of melo-
•^
[75]


The Silent Maid
dies that never man had sung before.
The Baron lowered his sword and stood
there spellbound; the sounds that had
begun in the goatherd's cottage ceased, as
though its inmates, too, were listening
intent, and the great dog, with lowered
head and gently waving tail, came
quickly forward, softly whining as he
walked, and crouched at the feet of the
maid. She threw her thin, lithe arms
about his shaggy throat, drew his mon-
ster head to her breast, patted his neck
with her hands, and paused in the midst
of her song and spoke to him. The
Baron strained his ear to catch the words.
"Good dog," said she, caressing his
cheeks with her hands, as she addressed
him, "tell me, where have I come? I
slept, I know, but nothing more can say.
[76]'


The Silent Maid
to him at once, and he hastened, trem-
bling, to the group, and fell upon his
knees before his lord.
"A handy slave, indeed, art thou, old
man," cried Rabenhorst, " that keeps thy
master night-bound on the hills and sets
thy dog to slay him and this child.
Were't not for thy fair record in those
troublous times long gone, I'd beat thee
here to death for this neglect."
"Forgive, O gracious lord!" moaned
Swarz, in his terror. "I knew not thou
wert nigh; and, then, I slept. The aged
sleep not well till nigh the dawn, and
then awaken hardly. Had I known, I
would have spent the night without in
watching for thy coming. Surely thou
wouldst not slay me for no wrong in-
tent."
[78]


The Silent Maid
He began to weep and to prostrate
himself before the Baron, and begged so
piteously for mercy that the heart of
Rabenhorst, never long hardened toward
any of his people, relented, and he saw
the folly of blaming the old man for
what was not his fault. So he bade him
rise and attend to them.
"But," he added, " see thou guard thy
dog more carefully in future. Had he
harmed the child or pressed me hard, I
surely would have killed both him and
thee. And yet," he continued, medita-
tively, "the brute seems fair disposed;
and 'twas his duty to protect thy home.
So, so; say no more of this. Perhaps
'tis well as 'tis. One point at least is
proven. She can speak. Lead on, good
[79]


The Silent Maid
of the woman, with strict commands for
her safety. Swarz was dispatched to the
castle to fetch a horse and leave word of
the master's coming. Quiet fell once
more upon the valley, the goats browsed
undisturbed upon the hills, and Gor, the
dog, kept guard before the open door.
The Baron von Rabenhorst, having
decided to keep the little maid, soon
made arrangements for her comfort and
protection. At first he had her brought
to the castle, where nurses and a govern-
ess were given her, with instructions to
rear her as a lady, and to omit no point
of her mental and physical training,
under penalty of losing their own brains
and the boxes that contained them. But
it soon transpired that the child could not
[82]


The Silent Maid
be brought up in the common ways of
girls of that period. She could not learn
to sew, she either would or could not
speak, excepting to old Gor, the goat-
herd's dog, — and but little even to him,
— she seemed to detest the interiors of
houses, and preferred to spend the days
in the open air; and nothing, in fine,
could be done to change her habits, try
as they would. The Baron himself fre-
quently had her brought to him, hoping
to probe the mystery that enfolded her,
and spent many hours in her company,
but learned nothing beyond the fact that
she was very gentle in disposition, was
fond of petting, and seemed pleased at
kindly companionship with any one.
Sometimes, too, he would try to get
her to speak, employing every device he
[83]


The Silent Maid
could think of to coax a conversation
from her, but to all his questions her
answer was always the same:
"Stille-Maegth."
This and nothing more.
It seemed the only utterance of which
she was capable, save in song, and, had
he not heard her address the dog, he
would have believed her dumb. He
grew perplexed and sometimes almost
angry at her apparent obstinacy, but
nothing came either of his perplexity
or his anger; for moods did not affect
the child, and anger seemed to have no
responsive sense of fear in her heart.
And once, to test the maid, he threatened
her with fearsome words and awesome
punishment, if she would not speak to
[84]


The Silent Maid
him, but she only looked at him as be-
fore, wonderingly, and answered:
"Stille-Maegth," —
so tenderly and sweetly, his conscience
smote him for his cruelty, and he took
her to his arms and begged her to for-
give hiV unkind words. Whereupon she
stroked his beard with her slender hands,
and kissed him on his war-worn cheek,
and softly murmured, as at first, the same
low, gentle sounds:
"Stille-Maegth."
And then he loved her, if possible,
more deeply than before, and said to
himself that she must be his little one
always, and love no other, and always
let him wear her next his heart. "For,"
said he, " she is one afflicted by the hand
[85]


The Silent Maid
of God, for some good purpose of His
own, and is not as other maids."
So it came to pass, in time, that the
people of the castellany learned to look
upon her as a sacred being, and none
molested her, or thought to question any-
thing she did. And she roamed at will
about the country, and spent many of her
days abroad in the fields and woods, with
none to guard her but the faithful Gor,
who always went with her, and lived
chiefly at the home of the goatherd
Swarz, when the Baron was absent or at
war. And Swarz and his wife became
as father and mother to her, and loved
her very dearly, and blessed her often
in their prayers, saying she was a gift
sent by the good God to brighten their
declining years, and a benison granted
[ 86 ]


The Silent Maid
their noble lord to soften his heart and
teach him how to love.
Often she would sing, and, when this
happened, the people would gather and,
in silence, drink in the music that she
made. She never could be induced to
sing at anybody's request, not because
she seemed unwilling, but simply be-
cause she could not. This they soon
discovered, and, therefore, never tried
to coax her. But she sang so much it
made no difference, for never day went
by that did not find her pouring forth
her melodies, as she roamed about or sat
among the flowers she had gathered in
her walks. And when she sang, she
seemed like one inspired, and did not
see them or heed their presence at all, but
let her warblings flow as free as the air
[87]


The Silent Maid
into which she sent them, and sang them
to the heavens like a witless bird. The
people often thought it strange she sang
no songs they ever heard before, nor any
she had ever heard them sing. All her
melodies were new to them; and even
those who occasionally came from other
lands and heard her said the songs were
strange. But she taught the people many
songs, for they did not easily forget the
strains she gave. And thus, in time, the
country of the Rabenhorsts had learned
to sing as did no other, and the fame of
its ballads even spread to other places.
But the words of her songs they could not
master, for she never sang them twice
alike. So they made her music theirs
and sang it to such words as pleased them
best. And Rabenhorst, hearing them
[ 88 ]


The Silent Maid
seemed to like the name, and silent always
was, save when she sang.
The years passed on, and, excepting
that she became more beautiful with
each advancing season that added to her
growth, and sang with fuller tones and
deeper pathos as her voice matured, there
was no change. She roamed, as at first,
among the moors and mountains, singing
as she went, spent much time with the
aged goatherd and his wife, cheered the
Baron in his loneliness, and let him pet
her to his heart's content, and spoke to
no one. For old Gor, grown far beyond
the limit of his natural span of life, had
long since passed away; and, after this,
she used no language other than her
songs. She had wept when he died, and
seemed unhappy for a time; but her spell
[ 9o I


The Silent Maid
of grieving was brief, and it was not very
long before she ceased to look for him.
"Surely," the peasants said, "her love
for the faithful dog had not been great;"
and some of them even hinted that it was
doubtful if she loved any one, she seemed
so light and eery in her ways, and
made no real distinctions among her
friends. They did not tell the Baron
this, but there were some among them
who said to one another that they feared
it might yet come to pass that he would
discover a truth suspected by Godgifu
from the first, and, some day, learn she
had no heart for love. "For," said they,
"it is well known that the maid who
loves no person better than another, in
truth, loves none at all." And others
among them hinted darkly that she was
[ 9i ]


The Silent Maid
heart. This maid, and no other, would
he wed. Pride of ancestry, wealth, posi-<
tion, birth, none of these things should
stand between him and his heart's desire.
But yet he could not wed her save by
her own consent. To love and be loved,
that was his intent. He was not certain
she would love him, fond though she was
of his petting and his tender care, and
since she could not speak he lived in
doubt. So he endeavoured in many ways
to win a sweet confession from the maid,
and by endearments, signs, and pretty
gifts made siege upon her affections.
But there was no change. If she loved
him at all, her love was nothing different
from the first she gave him when a child,
and this, he knew, would not suffice.
And often he would gravely study her,
"-
l93l


The Silent Maid
as she roamed about with him, and won-
der if the coarse jests of the peasants
could be true, and marvel how a maid
so fair could have no heart to win. And
sometimes, when she came to him and sat
upon his knee, he would gaze long and
tenderly into the deep, unfathomable vio-
let of her strange, large eyes, and gently
stroke the shining tresses of her lustrous
ebon hair, and smooth the velvet of her
pale, soft cheeks, and say:
"Dear little one, I love thee. Dost
thou also love?"
But her answer was always the same:
"Stille-Maegth."
Nor was there any sign her heart was
touched.
[94]


CHAPTER IV
WHY HAMMERSCHLAAG MADE WAR TO
GET THE MAID
J)HE had just turned her fifteenth year,
and nothing unusual had happened to
disturb the peace of the castellany, since
the night that Roderich von Rabenhorst
brought her in his arms to the cottage of
the goatherd Swarz, when a stranger
came one day and demanded audience
with her master. The traveller was on
foot, without escort or companion of any
kind, and seemed a person who had jour-
neyed far, for the coverings of his feet
were worn, and the grego, that served
l9Sl


The Silent Maid
him both as cloak and hat, was gray with
long-accumulated dust and sadly stained
by the rains and the moisture of the
ground, on which he had slept for many
days. He seemed a peaceable man, and
Swarz, the goatherd, who had seen him
first, as he came down the mountain —
for his journey had been in the direction
taken by the Baron years before — had
been the first to bid him welcome, and
had fed him at his board before he told
his errand, deeming him an holy one
whose blessing 'twould be well to have.
And in this the aged goatherd, judging
by his lights, was wise, for the man was
sandalled like a monk, and the latchets
of his gear were double crossed, as was
the custom of the time.
But, although a peaceable and seem-
[ 96 ]


The Silent Maid
bowed his head and wept a moment,
standing thus like one in prayer, nor
moved he from the spot until the song
was hushed and silence fell again. But
he made no comment, nor asked an ex-
planation of his host. So the goatherd
told him naught.
When rested of his weariness, he arose
from the board and blessed the hearth
and all that there belonged, thanked the
old woman for her gracious courtesy, and
said Godspeed to Swarz, who pointed
him the way, departed down the moun-
tainside and vanished in the woods.
"A good enough man, I vow," said
Swarz, when he had gone, "and one of
holy ways. But not too civil, though his
wandering hath been wide enough to

[98]


The Silent Maid
alone. His manner, as before, was mild,
but there was a firmness in his address
and an expression in his eye, as he spoke
his message, that showed he was one not
easily deflected from his purpose. So
word was sent to the master that a travel-
ler, one who seemed an holy man and
whose journeyings had been far, de-
manded audience with him, and would
not be gainsaid. In a brief space of time
he stood before the Baron in his audience-
room, prepared to speak his message, for
'twas indeed a message that he bore.
"Roderich von Rabenhorst;" said he,
"thou of the dreaded name and wide
domain, that endeth with the rising and
the setting of the sun; a messenger of
peace I come to thee, if so thou wilt;
of war, if so it please thee to decide.
[ 1QO ]


The Silent Maid
'Tis true, this cloak that covers me is
but the garb of one whose business is
not warfare, and a solitary man am I,
whose dwelling rightly is a hermit's cave.
Little care I how men in conflict fare.
My tendance is their souls and what con-
cerns them after death, and never would
it be my choice to bear a soldier's woes.
But, in this particular duty, one who has
the right commands me. Thus it comes
to pass that, journeying as a messenger
of peace, my mission first is peace, and,
if not that, then war. Know then, thou
of the dreaded name, that he who sends
me unattended to thy home is one thou
must respect as equal, whether friend
or foe, — Konrad von Hammerschlaag,
Prince of the Seven Castellanies of the
^N
[101 ]


The Silent Maid
Lower Hills, thy brother lord and neigh-
bour. He it is who speaks in me."
"I know him well," Von Rabenhorst
replied. "A valiant man and worthy of
my recognition, whether friend or foe.
Speak on, good friar. What asks the
Hammerschlaag of me? If reason's in
it, 'twill be granted, rest assured of that."
"This, and this alone, good knight,"
the stranger said. "That thou release to
him a certain maiden now with thee.
She is the Hammerschlaag's, and never
has been thine, save by a chance. Long
years hath he been seeking her in every
land, nor can he stay his quest until she
cometh back to him who first possessed
her. The maiden hath been sought for
without ceasing, since the night, now
many summers passed, when Konrad's
[ I02 ]


The Silent Maid
huntsman, roaming in the hills, did find
her guard, an aged woman, lying head-
less on the sward, but found no thing
beyond to tell this tale of murder. But
the child they could not find, or any trace
of her. Dead she could not be, for were
this so, her songs would yet be dwelling
in the forest, for the spirit of such song
as hers dies not, as all men know that
know the tale thou knowest not, O man
of blood! Learn, then, at once the truth,
and render back the maid.
"In the years of his youth, when the
Baron von Hammerschlaag, my master,
came to his estates, long pillaged by the
wars of princes previous to his time, he
found the people dead in soul and coarse
with hardening ages of rapine and sordid
toil. 'Give me,' he cried in prayer to
[ io3 ]


The Silent Maid
the gods, 'no land like this; but let my
heritage be a land of sunshine and a
people warm with love. My people are
dull, dead to all emotion, and they have
no songs. Give them music, and I will
do the rest' For it is a truth, O Lord
of Rabenhorst, that there was no music
in the land nor any voice that sang. And
it came to pass that there appeared to him
a messenger from the Klidskjalf, saying
that, by command of Hlin herself, a boon
would soon be granted him, since the
goddess deemed him worthy, — for he is,
'tis said, of distant kindred with the gods,
— and that a maiden would be sent him
who should teach the people song. But,
said the messenger, 'tis strictly stipu-
lated in the gift that none shall dwell
apart with the maid save one old woman,
[ *o4 ]


The Silent Maid
and that never shall she converse hold
with men, or wed a mortal. And, to
make the matter more secure, 'twas also
said a spell should be laid upon her
tongue, that she might not learn to use
it save in song. Thus, speaking with
no one, none should speak with her.
And, furthermore, the story runs, the
goddess, having no heart to rob the maid
of all communication with the things that
live, did grant to her that full commun-
ion she might hold with the creatures
of the waters and the woods, and with
all that were not given human speech.
So the goddess sent the maid, and Kon-
rad gave her in charge of the aged
woman — the same that was beheaded in
the forest—for the woman, too, was
dumb and had no speech. And because
-'
[105]


The Silent Maid
songs, the people learn that she is housed
with thee; and Konrad justly calls for
what is his. Thou surely wouldst not
keep the maid from him against his will,
for, as the gods my witness are, she is
not thine."
At the close of this address, Von Ra-
benhorst paused before he spoke. His
mind was working with intense emotion,
and there was a conflict of many feelings
in his heart, as he pondered the story
told him by the traveller, and dwelt upon
its points, and realised the force of what
he heard. He saw the justice of the
demand, yet he was not fully prepared
to believe the tale. Being a man of
hardy mould, and singularly free from
the superstitions of his time, it seemed
to him absurd. And yet the recollection
'
[ io7 ]


The Silent Maid
of the voices of the forest, long ago,
somehow came to him now with telling
strength, as never before, and he could
not wholly put them out of his memory.
Again he lived that gruesome night,
again he seemed to hear the aged bel-
dame shrilling her weird cry of agony,
again he felt the strain of his sword, as
it swept her defenceless head from her
body, and again he felt the warm breath
of the child upon his cheek, as he bore
her away through the gloom, amid the
hideous dinnings of the woods; and, as
it all came back to him, it seemed once
more that she was small again, and that
he drew her to his heart, repeating the
words of long ago, and saying, softly:
"Little one; I love thee. Be my
child," and that she answered, —
[ 108 ]


The Silent Maid
"Stille-Maegth," —
and quickly fell asleep. Now that he
had learned to love her with a man's
full passion and desire, he felt he could
not part with her.
"Tell me," he said, at length, "how
came the good Graf Hammerschlaag to
learn the maid was here?"
"The merest accident, master," re-
plied the messenger. "Thy goatherd
Swarz, that hath his flocks on yonder
hill, did chance one night to entertain a
wayfarer of our land, and, sitting with
his good wife round the fire at eve, while
Swarz was off among his herd, the man
was given all the tale by her. And, in
the morning, ere he took his way, the
man made effort to discern the truth, and
lingered in the fields, and heard the
[ io9 ]


The Silent Maid
maiden sing; and then he knew it was
she, for none that sing have ever sung
her songs, save those who learn them
from her lips, and none do sing as she."
The darkening brow of the Baron
showed the anger rising in his soul, as he
heard these words.
"'Tis simple," he said, "and could
have happened any time. No more of
that. Now tell me, doth thy master give
no compromise? States he nothing save
his demand for the maid?"
"Nothing, lord," replied the messen-
ger. "His words are plain. Send him
the maid, and he becomes thy friend;
refuse, and he calls to arms at once. 'Tis
peace or war, O Lord of Rabenhorst, and
justice fights upon my master's side, if
[no]


The Silent Maid
war it be. I have no more to say to thee.
Let me depart with thy reply."
"Tell thy master, then," replied Von
Rabenhorst, " that what he craves cannot
be granted. The maiden is not his to
claim. If he cared for her as thou sayest,
he should have kept his treasure better
guarded. What is once abandoned goes
to him that takes it. I did not seek to
steal the maid. She came to me. There-
fore will I keep her, even were there
no other reason. If so't must be, Von
Rabenhorst will fight for her. And tell
thy master to be well assured the warfare
will be that which men who fight with
love do wage; and say to him Von Ra-
benhorst doth purpose with the maid to
wed — be sure to mention that. If this
be sacrilege, let Wodan and the mighty
[m]


The Silent Maid
Hlin command me to surrender her, not
thy lord. This is the answer of Von
Rabenhorst. Depart."
So the messenger departed, and re-
turned to the master of the Seven Cas-
tellanies of the Lower Hills, and told
him all that Roderich von Rabenhorst
had said; and Konrad von Hammer-
schlaag was very angry, because he
would not surrender the maid, and, call-
ing together all his dependent princes,
he bade them prepare to wage relentless
war upon the Baron of the mountain
castle, and to spare no man that sought
to aid him in his bold defiance of the
mighty Hlin.
And after this, the princes went among
their vassals and related what he had
said, and pledged them, even to the last
[ »a]


The Silent Maid
man of every dependency that was under
the rule of Hammerschlaag, to take up
arms and fight for their rightful lord in
his most just of wars, and to swear by
the hand of Wodan and the hammer of
great Thor, that never should their val-
our flag till Hammerschlaag was victor,
and the maid who gave them music
should come to them again.
Meantime the Baron von Rabenhorst,
knowing well the temper of his enemy,
made careful preparations for the war,
and sent to all that were his friends
among the neighbouring lords a sum-
mons, engaging their allegiance to his
cause, and promising much plunder to
such as served him well. For it was
agreed in the compact that, should the
banner of the Rabenhorst prevail, the
[»3]


The Silent Maid
self, and asked her did she love him,
as he oft had asked before, and told her
he would wed her on the morn, but noth-
ing further prayed for till her heart
should turn to him; and that, though
she now would be his bride, she yet
should still remain his child, against the
time to come when she would grow to
him. And Stille bowed her head in an-
swer to his words, and seemed to under-
stand and give consent. And then, dis-
missing from his presence all that there
were gathered, he betook himself to the
window of his favourite apartment, and
sat there long in meditation deep, and
gazed upon the domain that was his own.
[ii5]


CHAPTER V
WHAT FOLLOWED THE MARRIAGE OF
THE BARON
1 WAS while the day was yet an
infant in the arms of Mother Night,
and the yokels had but just begun their
preparations for the wedding-feast, that
two horsemen rode at easy speed from
the mountains to the north, and set
their course directly toward the castle
gates. They were equipped in the style
of the roving knights, and carried little
cumberment save the weapons they bore,
and on the pennants that floated 'neath
the pistolets of their spears two hearts,
[ii*]


The Silent Maid
For one was fair and like a child of sun-
shine as to his hair, and had the colour of
the eyes that seems reflected skylight;
while he that rode beside him was of
swart and sombre hue, with raven locks
and eyes that darkly glowed 'neath
darker brows.
As the brothers sped upon their way to
the castle, entering the country of its mas-
ter, they were frequently challenged by
the sentries set at various points to guard
against attack. But to each they gave
good reason for their venturing, and,
since their sole demand was audience
with the Baron himself, there seemed no
reason to detain them. So they soon
crossed the hills that lay between and
were quickly come to the gates.
"Tell thy lord," said he who seemed
[118]


The Silent Maid
"This, and this only, Lord of Raben-
horst," said he who spoke for both.
"That, serving in thy cause, we may re-
claim the Castellany of the Lowest Hill
that lieth toward the south of Hammer-
schlaag's domain, for 'twas our father's
and his father's father's, too. Our story
is brief, and 'twill convince thee of the
merit of our claim. Many years ago, be-
fore the present lord of the Seven Cas-
tellanies came to his estate, our fathers
possessed the lands of which we speak.
They were a kind and peaceable people
and sought no strife with any that dwelt
about them, nor asked extension of their
small domain. But he that was the
father of the present Hammerschlaag
did covet that which was our father's,
and did come one day, with sword and
[ I2o ]


The Silent Maid
fire, when our father lay in mortal ill-
ness and was not able to contend with
any one, and, sweeping o'er the land with
overwhelming force, did drive us forth,
our mother and ourselves — for we were
but children then — and foully slew our
father in his bed. And after that, our
mother, fleeing far into the forests to
escape the power of the Hammerschlaag,
for she feared his threat to utterly destroy
us all, found refuge with some holy peo-
ple in the north and succour for her chil-
dren. And, after a time, when we were
older grown, she told us of our wrongs,
and bade us bear in mind our duty to
our name and station, and swore us, ere
she died, to bear the sword, and lay it
not aside till we should come into our
own again. And more than this, her
c "■ ]
\
^


The Silent Maid
teachings always were of honour and of
love to one another, and that we should
be ever ready to stand together in the
common cause, and dwell not apart;
'for in your double strength, my sons,'
said she, 'lies all the secret of an ulti-
mate success.' . And thus she passed
away, blessing us, her children, and set-
ting us our task. But never yet have
we found fair chance to strike the blow
at our ancient enemy, for the time was
not yet come. So our years have been
spent in warring for the king, whose ser-
vice we have lately left by courtesy, —
for the king doth know our story and is
kind, — and not until to-day hath seemed
the occasion good to press our claim.
And hearing of thy quarrel with the
Hammerschlaag, and that thou dost not
[ I22 ]


The Silent Maid
intend to take his domain, but only to
retain the maid, of whom also we have
heard, it seemed the time was ripe to
lend our service in thy cause, to aid thee
well and take our lands. Surely, O lord,
no other friend of thine hath better right
to them."
This proposition seemed good to Ra-
benhorst, who had no objection to secur-
ing the services of two such knights as
these, and he made ready to assent at
once, saying:
"I see no cause for haggling with thee
or with thy brother over this. My pur-
pose, as thou sayest, is not gain, but sim-
ply to protect mine own. Serve me well,
thy lands are thine again. And since 'tis
settled, pray announce your names, that
[ I23 ]


The Silent Maid
lands, our titles would be Thorg and Ola
of the Bjorn. We use them not till then."
"It is enough," said the Baron.
"Thorg and Ola shall ye be with me.
The words are good and have no petty
sound. What names ye choose to use
besides concerns me not. And since ye
both are now my allies and my guests, I
bid you prepare to join the feast, and
pledge your mistress on her wedding-
day."
The brothers departed with escorts
assigned them by the Baron to get ready
for the coming feast, and, the day being
now well advanced, a bustle was every-
where about the castle; for, although
the master had decided to marry in
haste, and little time was given for prep-
aration, he proposed to make the few
^
[ i*5]


The Silent Maid
the company of assembled knights, he
suddenly fixed his glance upon the stran-
ger brothers, standing with some other
men, and easily distinguished by their
snowy garb.
"'Tis wisely done," he murmured.
"None will take offence if these two
strangers serve." So he spoke aloud and
said he would elect the unknown knights
to stand with him, that all might feel
he had no favour shown to any of his
older friends. And all approved right
heartily, and said 'twas shrewdly done,
and gazed upon the brothers without
malice. Then the two went forward
and took their places beside the Baron,
in readiness to receive the bride, for the
hour of her coming was at hand.
The maiden had been housed at the
[ *29 ]


The Silent Maid
castle since the day before, and was given
women servitors to attend her and pre-
pare the wedding-gown. A friar, wan-
dering from the forests, and with whom
the Baron had made friendship long ago,
was there to join the pair; and, after
that, to join the merry party at the board,
for never better man at meat and drink
did live than he, as all that knew him
said. He now was ready with his ser-
vice-book, and, rising, called on God to
witness bear of all that was to come. The
maiden bride was ushered through an
opened door, attended by her women,
and silence fell upon the company.
She bore upon her face no sign of care,
nor any faint suggestion she was moved
by thoughts of doubt or fear or wonder,
but smiled at the Baron when she saw
[ 130 ]


The Silent Maid
him, sweetly and happily, as she always
did. This might have been a matter in
which she bore no special part, she
seemed so free of interest; and he
doubted if she really understood she was
a bride, or realised she was bounden
henceforth to himself for evermore.
Turning her glance upon the near-by
Thorg, she next surveyed him with a
pleased expression, and seemed to deem
him something worthy, for she smiled
into his face and showed he had good fa-
vour in her heart; but it was only an
instant she looked at him ere her eyes
wandered in the opposite direction, where
fair Ola stood beside her lord; and there
they rested with a wistful gaze, that was
so piteous the youth could scarce with-
stand it as it met his own. And, as he thus
[ 131 J


The Silent Maid
beheld the maid, there grew upon him
something that was new, and he yearned
to draw her to his heart and have her
always near; for he had seen, in the
depths of the maiden's eyes, a soul that
spoke to his. She let her glance fall from
his face and rest upon the ground, as a
colour came upon the usual pallor of
her cheeks and a sudden agitation heaved
her bosom. And Thorg saw the change
and marvelled; and, looking at her, as
she stood there all unconscious of his
presence, he realised the maiden was
most fair, and loved her as a true man
loves but once, — then put the thought
aside.
The monastic gave a sign, and Thorg
and Ola, as the custom was, approached
the maid, and, taking stand at either side
C *32 ]


The Silent Maid
of her, seized her by the hands, and led
her to her lord. She laid the hand that
Thorg received upon his own content-
edly, like a trustful child, and showed
no fear of him, but smiled as if 'twere
pleasure thus to let him guide her; but
when the gentle Ola did appropriate its
mate, a sudden trembling shook it, and
she made as though she fain would draw
away, nor did she look again upon his
face. And, after this, the brothers placed
her hands upon her master's palms, and
stood apart, while, kneeling at the friar's
feet, the Baron and the maid were joined
in marriage, and prayers and blessing
o'er the twain were said. But, first, be-
cause the maiden had no speech, and
could no answer make to any question,
the holy man invoked a special privilege
^
[ *33 ]


The Silent Maid
that should suffice in lieu thereof, and
said the conduct of the lady gave a full
consent, although her voice was dumb,
and that the good God knew her heart
and saw 'twas much inclined unto her
lord. Then Rabenhorst, arising with his
bride, did face the knights, and swore
them to allegiance to his arms and to
the lady's cause. And all assembled there
did swear it, and, with swords held high,
made oath to stand in battle for the
Baron and his bride. And, after this,
they fell upon the feast, and made much
merriment, and filled the air with cheer
and jest and song. But Stille, sitting
mute beside her spouse, took little notice
of the jovial company, that oft did raise
their beakers in honour of herself, and
seemed absorbed in thoughts of other
[ *34 ]


The Silent Maid
things, and never turned her glance upon
Von Rabenhorst, save when he spoke to
her; and even then,'twas like the glance
of one whose mind was otherwhere and
heard without attention what he said.
Yet once chance brought the eyes of
gentle Ola to her own, and then there
was a change, so quick 'twas like to noth-
ing but a flash of light, but still a change;
and Ola, seeing how the maiden paled
beyond her wont, and knowing 'twas his
look had wrought the mischief, grieved,
and ever after turned his eyes away.
And none did know of this, save Ola
and the maid herself.
Meantime the revelry ran high, and,
the lady and her women having sat the
accustomed hour at the board, withdrew
to their apartments, for in the later feast-
t*3Sl


The Silent Maid
his piety at rest beneath the spell of good
red wine, his favourite brew when not
engaged in penance or at prayer, made
effort to discourse of love and other
things that friars know not well, until,
too overcome — by love or wine, 'tis not
said which — he slipped beneath the
table and vanished out of sight.
The day grew small, and still the
merry revellers plied their jests and sang
their songs and passed the hours in
changing tales of war and love and feast,
and none were ready to depart, though
night was close at hand and the moon
hung close above the highest mountain-
tops. Within the walls, the knights made
merry music to the touching of the cups,
while, in the open of the castle-yard, the
clowns disported various fooleries and
[ x37 ]


The Silent Maid
aped their lords as best they knew in wit;
and it was said an hundred years at least
had passed since Rabenhorst had wit-
nessed such a scene. The Baron, with
his bridesmen, Thorg and Ola, placed
at either hand, waxed vigorous in speech,
and often raised his voice in loudest
plaudit at the jests that flew about the
board, and showed himself an host of
genial mould, and was as gay and free
of care as any of the youngest, though
'twas seen he kept his head upon his
shoulders better than the rest, and some-
times cast his eye upon the men-at-arms
with keenest scrutiny, remindful of the
special worth of each particular knight.
And still the hours wore on, and saw no
signs of breaking up the feast.
It was well on toward the time when
[138]


The Silent Maid
hoarse, as through the valleys rode a
mounted guard with message for the
master, crying, as he passed:
"To arms! The H-ammerschlaag!
The foe doth come!"
The revelry ceased at once, and each
good knight, his ready sword in hand,
betook him to his company in haste, pre-
pared to lead his men. And Rabenhorst,
arising from the board, strode quickly to
the outer gates, and got upon his horse,
then hurried forth, with Thorg and Ola
following fast, to intercept the messen-
ger and learn his tale, issuing orders as he
passed among the groups. And, such
had been their training and the discipline
of their lord, 'twas scarce a quartering
of the hour in all, ere each man was in
place and ready to advance.
[ 140 ]


The Silent Maid
by night and in the day, his army resting
only for an hour at a time, and thus made
quicker progress; so 'twas deemed a wise
precaution to bear the news at once.
And thus the messenger had ridden with-
out ceasing, save for hurried taste of food
and water for his horse, and would have
hastened faster but his beast had died
upon the way, and left him to pursue his
course for miles, until the sentry at the
outer tower supplied another mount.
"And even now, O lord," said he, " the
time is short. For, if thou hadst the day-
light to assist, thine eyes could see his
coming; for the valley hath been passed,
and Hammerschlaag doth camp in yon-
der vale beside the goatherd's hut. Him
hath he slain, and with him his good
[ 142 ]


The Silent Maid
the foe. Do thou, my Otto, friend of
many a long campaign, lead thy force up
yonder hill in silence, there to flank the
enemy if thou may. Let lusty Gregor,
hungry more for battle than for meat,
as is his nature, take the opposite way
and range upon the other side; the
ground is heavy there, and hardy men
are needed. You will I separate from
the rest, because your men are mounted
all and lighter builded than most, and
nimbleness is needed in this work. The
others stay with me to press the central
charge; and honest Thorg, who cometh
not in company^ but alone, to join us, him
will I station at my side to fight with
me. And all, save Ola there, who is both
brave and gentle, shall go at once; but
he shall stay behind and keep the castle
[ HS]


The Silent Maid
guard. God grant the struggle be not
there before the victory; but, if it be,
let none pass through the gates, on forfeit
of thy life, for the charge I give to thee
is greater than all others."
Speaking thus, he gave the word, and
led the way to battle. And Ola, taking
with him men assigned as aids and a band
of lusty yeomen chosen for their courage,
repaired to the castle yard, and made
quick preparations to defend it from at-
tack.
[ M6]


The Silent Maid
out regard for aught save victory and
destruction of his foe. Nor was the con-
flict always with the knights that fought
on one side or the other; for many val-
iant heroes there engaged, and courage
was not wanting anywhere along the
lines.
The first to strike a decisive blow was
Hammerschlaag himself, who, sweeping
down the hillock from his point of van-
tage on the higher slope, charged full
upon the advancing column of the Bar-
on's force, dividing it in twain by the
violence of the onslaught; and almost
would this charge have ended in a rout
had not the wily Otto, seeing him ad-
vance, swung quickly upon his rear with
all his swiftest horse, and there wrought
direful havoc; while sturdy Gregor,
[ 148 ]


The Silent Maid
coming on the side, drove straight among
the scattered men and put them to the
sword. Meantime the Baron's fantassin,
with spear and knife, plied vigorously
at the chargers of the foe and kept them
from advancing; the mass of fallen
horses and their riders made a wall be-
tween the two divisions of the fight and
stayed its progress; and, discouraged at
the failure of his first attack, the Ham-
merschlaag, uncertain of the end, with-
drew apart a little and rallied in his
knights.
Von Rabenhorst soon formed his lines
again, but made no advance, fearing the
consequence of any rash attempt to mount
the hill. He stationed Gregor at the
western side and Otto at the east, to flank
whatever movement Hammerschlaag
[ H9 ]


The Silent Maid
might try, and waited, slowly retreat-
ing, till the lower level ground should
give a surer chance for even contest. A
silence fell upon the assembled knights,
and naught was heard save the distant
cry of the mountain owl and one lone cur
that bayed the yellow moon. How long
a time this stillness reigned, no man could
tell; but 'twas not long, for soon the
trumpet of the foe gave tongue, and,
charging down the slope again, this time
in columns three, his lines advanced.
The spearmen of Von Rabenhorst ran
forth, and, forming in a wedge, prepared
to take the brunt of this fierce onslaught,
and Gregor and his mate, old Otto,
struck their spurs and swung to either
side straight up the hill, to crowd the
columns in. Thus forced, they could no
[ ISO ]


The Silent Maid
longer stay divided, but were driven close
together, as they came, and rushed upon
the spears, bearing down the men that
held them, though losing many a horse
and rider. But their progress was not
checked, and soon the battle turned to
them; for Rabenhorst's wide columns,
broken by this overwhelming crush of
man and horse, were backward driven,
fighting inch by inch at every step, until
they made a stand upon a knoll without
the castle gates.
While Roderich and his forces were
gone forth to meet the foe, the youthful
Ola, left to guard the castle, had been
busy at his task. He double-sentinelled
each entrance to the towers, made careful
journey to all points of vantage, and
placed upon the walls such yeomen as
['5' ]


The Silent Maid
were brave and strong of thew to hurl
destruction on invaders if the need
should be, disposed his soldiers at the
proper stations, and spared no pains to
make a good defence. Then, thinking
it were wise to look within, he ran the
castle through, inspecting every chamber
and its ports; and, in the apartments of
the women folk, came sudden on the
maid. With gracious courtesy, he paused
upon the sill and begged permission to
secure the place against such danger as
might happen there. The maiden heard
his voice and raised her eyes; when, as
before, he saw reflected there the wistful
look that moved his heart, and knew the
soul behind them yearned to his. But
he made no motion that could tell he
noticed, though his heart beat quickly.

[ 15* ]


The Silent Maid
He sighed at thought of what such love
would be to him whose right it was, and
marvelled if she knew the Baron's bride
might love no other man. A moment
thus he paused, then took his way, for
time was brief.
And now the battling neared the castle
gates, and Ola, gazing from his station
on the turret, beheld the Baron's men
retreating to the knoll, and saw them
thither come and make their stand. He
gripped his sword, and felt the sudden
tremor that enthrills the veins of sol-
diers at the call to arms, gave orders to
his crew, and paused intent upon the
scene below. Thus, gazing from his
height, he soon discerned the crest of
Roderich, the Unconquered, waving
about among the knights, and saw that
[ iS3 ]


The Silent Maid
Thorg, his brother, moved beside him
in his garb of white, that shone conspic-
uous in the mass and had a hue of argent
lustre, as the rays of moonlight fell upon
it; and the sight inspired him with de-
sire to go without and join him where he
stood, for he felt his place was at the side
of him he loved. But duty held him to
another task, so he thought of the lady
trusted to his care, and patiently kept
watch upon the wall.
The forces of the Hammerschlaag
were gathering for a desperate attack,
and soon the battle would be on again;
and Roderich von Rabenhorst, gazing
from the knoll, sat stern and silent on his
horse, full conscious of the mettle of his
foe, and realised the fight would be to
death on either side. ,His lands and
[ 154]


The Silent Maid
to keep her mine for sake of her sweet
face; last will I be to die, if fortune fail
this night. My sires, for ages back, have
warriors been, and many, in their day,
have battled well for home and lands and
king; but never knight of all our line
hath had such cause as mine, or faced the
foe because of love alone. So, come what
may, the cause is best of all the causes
of our ancient line, and therefore should
be won."
Recovered from his reverie, he scanned
the enemy's force again, and made his
quick decision to attack; and, followed
by his trusted body-guard, charged
straightway on the foe. It seemed the
better tactics to advance at once, while
yet the Hammerschlaag deliberated what
to do.
[156]


The Silent Maid
knoll and win the battle, fighting hand-
to-hand.
What followed was a strain of bitter
conflict, each man warring at his best
with whatsoever man attacked him. And
sometimes one prevailed and then again
another, till 'twas difficult for those upon
the castle walls to say which banner led
the fray. For now the men of Hammer-
schlaag, fierce-pressing toward the gates,
did drive the defenders near them; and
then again the knights of Rabenhorst,
recovering from the attack, did force the
others back, with horrid clamour and
destruction great; and thus the battle
wavered in the balance, as the hours
passed, and none could say 'twas victory
anywhere.
Two knights that fought with Ham-

[ i58 ]


The Silent Maid
and let one who fears thee not instruct
thee in the arts of generous warfare."
"Son of a measly pig!" the man re-
plied. "Beware of insult toward thy
betters!"
At the word, recovering his balance,
he made a dash at Thorg, and would
have there engaged him, but that men
contending got between and forced the
twain apart against their will. Then
each had business at his master's side, for
now it chanced that Hammerschlaag and
Rabenhorst did battle face to face, with
many knights about them striving.
With firm-set teeth and eyes aflame
with passion, the leaders now began to
test each other's skill in mortal combat.
Well matched they were in size and
strength, and none might say that for-
[ 161 ]


The Silent Maid
tune favoured either in her gifts. Long
time they battled, with their knights
about them fighting hard, and strove in
tensest conflict; but the guard of each
so deftly handled was, that never blow
reached home, though oft they struck,
and sparks that flew from their clashing
blades glowed star-like in the air as each
gave forth its bright and fitful ray. At
last the sword of Rabenhorst, cutting full
upon the steel of Hammerschlaag, too
near the upper part, snapped off, and,
even as it broke, clipped half the other's
weapon from its length, and both were
crippled of their means to fight, just as
the red-haired knight, close-forcing in
upon the group, with spear in hand,
drove at the Baron's horse and killed
him as he stood. But Thorg, the ever-
[ 162]


The Silent Maid
there was difficult for the heaps of men
and horse that lay about. But still the
conflict waged and neither side pre-
vailed. The handsome knight that rode
with Hammerschlaag once more had
tried to trick Von Rabenhorst, and
quickly had been slain by sturdy Gregor,
who, unhorsed, now fought alone with
bloody sword that told its tale of how its
master's work was done; the fantassin,
long striving on the outer edge, still slew
each other, as they pressed about the
knights and strove to clear a passage to
the gates; and, in this hour of the waning
light, for dying was the moon far in the
distant west, the carnage raged more
fiercely than before. For desperation
added to the valour of the foes, and none
would yield.
^
[ 164]


The Silent Maid
with axe that he had taken from a dying
foe, made toward him.
Then men-at-arms stood back ap-
palled at what they saw. For, rushing at
each other, swift they swung their weap-
ons to the air — so swift that, like the
music of a sweeping sword, they sung
a woful tune upon the night — then
struck. But each in turn did quickly
fend the blow. Again they struck, and
failed of harm; and then again, at every
stroke with careful aim; but yet they
'scaped the blows, so shrewdly did they
guard against attack. Then round and
round they trod the sward, exchanging
feints and threats of sudden onslaught,
each one watchful of the chance that
should give value to his work. The
monster changed his tactic once, and,
[ '66]


The Silent Maid
swelled their bodies and gave them
strength to fight.
Another glancing blow of the hideous
knight fell close to Thorg, and would
have cut him down had not he fended
with his weapon and turned it off his
side. The giant now was fired with sav-
age passion, and his sense, with despera-
tion blind, was weaker than at first; and
Thorg, perceiving this, and seeing how
it was with him, grew calm, and softly
breathed a prayer. Then, watching well
his chance, when wild the other had his
weapon hurled, he raised his axe on high
and backward swung it in a circle bold
(so twice it travelled round before it
fell), and brought it fair upon the mon-
ster's head. Crashing through helmet,
skull, and flesh, the blade went down and
[ 168 ]


The Silent Maid
came to rest among the giant's ribs; and
'twas ever after said no blow like that
was struck again that day upon the field
of Rabenhorst, nor many like it anywhere
in war.
The battle now was forced anear the
gates, and still the champions, fighting
'mid their men, but little chance at per-
sonal combat found. For soon as the
one did find the other to engage him,
knights of either side did quickly force
the fray to where they stood, so eager
they to guard their masters well. And
thus it came to pass that, crowding
toward the point of danger, Hammer-
schlaag at last did drive his enemy across
the knoll, the pressure of his heavy foot-
men forcing the battle ever toward the
gates, and Rabenhorst was crushed, with
[ i69 ]


The Silent Maid
all his knights, almost against the walls,
so Ola and his men could hurl no mis-
siles from the tops upon the mass below,
lest friend and foe alike be killed.
Perceiving how the matter stood, and
realising how the strength of Hammer-
schlaag was greater, having play upon
the open ground, while half the Baron's
force was still at rest within the castle
walls, it seemed to Ola time to bear a
hand in battle with his men. A few re-
serving to remain at guard, the rest he
quickly mustered at the gate in readiness,
and, when the moment favoured, flung
the portals wide and led them forth, the
panels closing as they passed without.
At the moment of this changing of the
front of battle, and while the hinges yet
their soundings gave, a flame shot high
[ *7o]


The Silent Maid
upon the topmost battlements, and dole-
ful music swelled above the din of voices
and the clash of arms, dirging the fear-
some burthen of the mad woman's curse.
The warring ceased a moment at these
sounds, and those who gazed aloft saw,
standing on the dizzy height, a figure
robed in black, that waved a glowing
torch. They paused aghast at such a
gruesome sight; and Rabenhorst, hear-
ing, shuddered and remembered all the
stories of the past, and marvelled, seeing
'twas his nurse, Godgifu, that did love
him yet chanted thus upon a time like
this. And many were afraid and crossed
themselves, and made such other signs as
each particular man had learned in youth
to deem protection against enchantment
and the wiles of evil spirits, for none save


The Silent Maid
Rabenhorst saw who it was that sang
upon the tower.
Then one within, a stranger soldier
stationed there by Ola to defend the
upper ports, hearing the sounds, and be-
ing overzealous in his work, made haste
to reach the summit; and, seeing there a
raving woman putting, as he thought, a
fire upon the roof, mistook her for a spy,
and seized her by the waist and hurled
her down upon the rocks below, still
clinging to her torch and shrilling, as she
fell, the ancient curse.
A wail of horror rose upon the air, as
down she dropped and vanished in the
gloom that filled a chasm at the castle's
base.
Here Ola, now recovering his sense,
pressed forward with his men and forced
[ *7* ]


The Silent Maid
and muscles tensely drawn, for well he
knew Von Rabenhorst of old, and oft had
seen him wield the sword against a
stronger force with good success. Nor
was the Baron less attentive to the chance
of battle, seeing how it was with Ham-
merschlaag, and that he had no portion
of his former skill and strength abated.
Long time they parried blows and feints
and shrewdly attempted thrusts without
receiving harm, though once it seemed
the Hammerschlaag would cut his enemy
down, and thrice almost did Rabenhorst
throw off the other's guard, while breath-
less stood the groups of men about in si-
lence witnessing. Then once the Ham-
merschlaag, boldly swinging his sword,
struck hard at the head of Rabenhorst,
but not upon his head fell the blow, for,
[ m ]


The Silent Maid
quickly shifting to the left, the Baron
struck the other's blade aloft; and yet
again the Hammerschlaag did try this
trick, and yet again the Baron turned it
all to naught. And then Von Raben-
horst, the calmer of the twain, since less
exertion had he made, began to press his
enemy with rapid thrusts and sweeping
cuts that would have soon despatched a
man of lesser skill than Hammerschlaag;
till Hammerschlaag, grown weary of this
teasing, made to kill him with a mighty
blow that should pass downward through
any brief resistance held against its force,
and swung his weapon high. The blow
fell true and struck upon the guard of
Rabenhorst; but the shield of the Baron
was tough and firmly grasped, and,
though 'twas cleft, it was not cut apart,
[ i76 ]


The Silent Maid
but held the sword of Hammerschlaag
in its leathern folds an instant ere he
drew it back. And thereupon, the Baron,
thrusting with his point at once, drove
straight against the heart of Hammer-
schlaag, and he fell without a gasp.
[ *77 ]


The Silent Maid
and had a wound from one who used a
spear, so that he could no longer fight;
which Thorg, his brother, seeing, made
excuse to leave the Baron's side, and after
bore him safely to his bed within the
castle's walls.
When morning came, the Baron and
his weary men returned, bearing their
wounded and such prisoners as had come
to them in the night. The remnants of
the enemy's forces, having fled beyond
the mountains, and being no longer a
menace to the peace of the castle, were
left to go their ways as best they could,
and the defenders, being worn out with
their night's work, sought rest, and even
Rabenhorst himself desired to sleep. But
Thorg stayed with his brother, and
would not leave him till he should be
S
[ 18o]


The Silent Maid
and Stille sitting by his couch. He spoke
to them with gentle greeting, and the
maiden rose and came to him, and laid
her arms about his neck and let him kiss
her, as was her wont; and tender words
came to his lips, as he took her to his
heart and softly touched her on the cheek.
"A little while, my child," said he,
"and thou wilt learn to love me as thou
shouldst. Dost thou not love me now?"
She trembled in his clasp and a tear
stole from between her lids and trickled
down her face. But she made no answer
to his words.
"Poor child," he murmured. "Too
much turmoil hath unnerved thee for the
time. But 'twill pass off. No hand shall
steal thee from thy lord. To-morrow I
must leave thee once again, but only for
[i83]


The Silent Maid
requested all to leave them, lest the fever
should return; and the Baron, with his
bride, stole softly from the place.
On the morrow, followed by his band
of knights and men that bore their equip-
ment and supplies, Von Rabenhorst set
forth to subdue the Castellanies of the
Lower Hills and make peace among his
allies. Thorg and Ola alone remained at
the castle, for one was too ill to journey,
and the other would not leave him. So
Rabenhorst left the affairs of his estate
to Thorg, until his brother should re-
cover, with instructions to follow when
the time should come.
"All thy lands," said he, "shall be
secured to thee, as if thou and thy brother
were at hand, and naught that is yours
shall be taken. Guard well my castle

[ 185]


The Silent Maid
till thy brother is safe without thee; then
take horse and come to me. And after
that, thou shalt return with me and bring
thy brother, who, in the meantime, shall
succeed to thee and serve till we arrive."
So Thorg remained and nursed his
brother; and the maid was often with
them and ministered to the wounded
knight while he lay ill, and sometimes
served in place of Thorg, who often was
constrained to go abroad upon the affairs
of Rabenhorst. And, as Ola's wound was
healed and strength came back to him,
Thorg spent more and more of his time
apart from him; for the Baron's domain
was wide, and Thorg was faithful. And
thus it came to pass the maid was much
with Ola, and her heart grew toward
him, so that seldom did she dwell in
[ 186]


The Silent Maid
must sometime go his way. Thy lord
no longer needs me, so I go."
"Yes," she made answer, "this is so.
But yet, I cannot let thee go. Thou art,
in truth, more dear to me than any other
I have ever known. And, then, it is to
thee alone that I may speak."
"Pray tell me, fair one, how this may
be so?" said Ola. "For, if thou canst
to me address thy gentle words, why
not to any other? There surely is some
mystery in this, unless it is to humour
a sick man thou sayest it. Why shouldst
thou not with words speak unto all; or
why to me alone?"
She stood a moment, swaying like a
wind-blown lily ere she spoke; and then,
with passionate moanings and with many
tears, slipped down beside him where he
[ 192 ]


The Silent Maid
heard. But, since she is to wed no mortal
man, nor ever know of love, her speech
must be confined, that never may she
cease to serve me well. Yet, mark me; if
at any time she love a mortal man, all this
enchantment shall depart from her, and
she shall be as mortal for awhile and suf-
fer the pains of mortal life, until she re-
turn to thee again. And, furthermore,
her soul I will remove, against the time
to come when men may woo her, seeking
her to wife. Thus, soulless, she will be
care-free nor yield to any pleadings of
the heart. But this I cannot promise un-
less she be kept apart from converse with
the world. For one there is whose soul
is counterpart of hers, and, should she
chance to meet him, through his soul her
soul will quick return to her again, and
[ 195]


The Silent Maid
"Yes; I love thee. To deny it is
absurd. But yet thou'rt not for me."
"I understand thee not," the maid re-
plied. "I love thee, and thou lovest me.
My soul looks into thine and thine to
mine goes forth; and yet thou sayest I
am not for thee."
"Poor child," he said, as tenderly he
drew her to his heart; "thou dost not
know the ways of mortals well. Thou
art the bride of Rabenhorst, and bound
to him for life."
Then wildly passionate she broke
forth: "The bride of Rabenhorst! Not
thine, but his for life! Is this the love
of mortals? Would my noble lord dare
bind a soul that loves not his? It is not
so. Thee only will I love, because thou
lovest me. The people of the Elver-
[ *97 ]


The Silent Maid
konge love but once, and have no souls
for others. Thou art mine."
She wrapped him in her arms and
would not let him go, pouring delicious
passion o'er his sense, until he had no
thought of how it all would end, and
even for the time forgot his duty and his
honour and the honour of his host; and
not until the waning light gave warning
of the night's approach did these two
leave the goatherd's hut and seek the
castle gate.
And after this, for many a day, when
Thorg, his brother, was abroad attending
to the duties of the Baron, Ola and the
maid would ramble o'er the farthings
of the castellany and beguile the time
with words of tenderness and sweet en-
dearments. For it seemed to Ola that to
[ 198 ]


The Silent Maid
cut her off with harsh repulse would be
more than he could bear, loving her as
he did with all his soul. And yet he
knew the day would come when this must
be, and, knowing, still delayed its com-
ing. He soon discerned the maiden had
no sense of her allegiance to her spouse,
but rather seemed a child, whose only
thought was of the one immediate object
that she craved; and when, at times, his
manhood made its protest at the wrong
that he was doing to the maid, the master,
and himself and Thorg, he made attempt
to woo her from her fancy, and to show
her why it was she must not dwell on
him. But either she was ignorant, or
else devoid of any power to see how
'twas, for never could she seem to under-
stand, but always laughed his grave re-
[ m ]


The Silent Maid
bukes to scorn, and said her soul was
all the guide she had, and that her love
was fixed and could not change, and that
the maidens of her fatherland, once lov-
ing mortal, never loved again, and might
retain their mortal shape save only while
they loved. "If thou shouldst leave me
now, O Soul," she said, " this form that
thou dost see would vanish, and the soul
thou gavest me would wander forth for-
ever, sad, companionless, and homeless,
for the people of the Elverkonge never
may receive again a maid that once hath
loved a mortal man. Therefore, leave
me not, but let me have thee near."
And Ola was much troubled, hearing
her, and marvelled what it was he ought
to do. He saw his duty clear, but still
[ 2oo ]


The Silent Maid
his heart would not obey, for much he
yearned to have the maid.
Meantime the loyal Thorg went al-
ways on his rounds and served the Baron
justly, and at eve, when all were gathered
at the board, talked much of these af-
fairs with Ola, who would sometimes
answer him with interest, striving to con-
ceal the trouble in his heart. And Stille,
sitting with them, often smiled and
seemed to find the brother's company
good, and, in her childlike manner,
would stretch forth her hand and pat
him on the cheek, and laugh a merry
laugh that rang like music through the
castle halls. For only when alone with
Ola did she speak, nor seemed she to have
words for any other. Thus it was none
save himself suspected there was any
[ aoi ]


The Silent Maid
thee on my knee; and let me kiss away
those tears, that ill become an hour like
this. If thou art grieving, surely thy
lord would comfort thee."
But she made him no reply, and only
clasped the babe yet closer in her arms,
and murmured, as before:
"Stille-Maegth," and wept again.
Then Thorg, in haste to greet the mas-
ter, coming through the halls, paused at
the open door, uncertain of his right to
enter there; and, overhearing what was
said, and seeing how it was and that the
lady was in deepest peril, waited, ear
intent upon the voices. For he now per-
ceived (what none had thought before)
that the babe that lay upon the lady's
lap was not the heir of Rabenhorst, but
another's. And, perceiving this, he fee-
[ 208 ]


The Silent Maid
bly groaned, for quickly 'twas made
clear to him his brother owned the child.
Thus, seeing how it was, he soon recalled
the tenderness of the maid for Ola, and
remembered many things his eyes had
noticed, taking little thought of them,
and, at the recollection, shuddered, and
a faintness fell upon his heart. So once
again a groaning scaped his lips. At
which the Baron turned and saw him
standing there.'
"Come hither, honest Thorg," he said.
"I greet thee here, with gratitude for thy
noble service and the care thou gavest
my affairs. Thy duties are well done,
and nothing needs complaint. But here,
I feel, my welcome hath been somewhat
cold. Pray tell me, if thou canst, why
'
[ 209 ]


The Silent Maid
'tis the lady weeps, and why she clings
so tightly to that child?"
But Thorg was silent, like a guilty
man, and could no answer make.
At which Von Rabenhorst, turning on
his bride, his temper rising, made to take
the child away and draw her to his side.
But she resisted him with feeble violence,
and would not give it up, and wept again
and fell upon her knees, with moanings,
so the Baron was perplexed.
Then Thorg, recovered of his weak-
ness, stepped within and tried to take the
child; but she strove with him as with
the other, and would not let it go. And
Rabenhorst, suspecting now a little how
the truth might be, yet never yet believ-
ing, thought to move her by rebuke, and
spoke in words of anger, saying:
[ 2Io ]


The Silent Maid
"This, in sooth, is out of reason.
Surely thou art beside thyself to so be-
have. I give thee words of greeting,
and thy answer is to weep. I ask thee
to release the child an instant, and thou
holdest it from me as if it were thine
own, and I some robber that would steal
it from thy heart. I am weary of this
silliness, though I love thee far beyond
the limit of rebuke, and would not chide
thee for thy folly; but I claim thee now
as mine, and have no patience longer to
be gainsaid. Release the child to Thorg
and come to me."
But Stille only moaned, and clung yet
tighter to the babe.
At which, Von Rabenhorst, grown im-
patient, seized the child and tore it from
her. Whereat she cried aloud and made
[211]


The Silent Maid
to take it from him, so he was forced to
gently put her arms away. And then
again a doubt grew on his soul; and,
more to dispel the faint suggestion than
for any other cause, he sternly spoke to
her in these words:
“Tell me at once,” he said, “without
delay, whose child is this?” And, as he
thus addressed her, he forgot her strange
bewitchment, and that speech was not
upon her tongue, for his mind was much
disturbed.
Then Thorg, perceiving how the
Baron raved, and that the lady could
not long escape his wrath, and, thinking
of his brother's sin and all the love he
bore him from his earliest boyhood days,
stepped close and stood between the
twain, with saddened eyes, and said:
[ 212 J


The Silent Maid
dence both in one I cherished as my bride
and one I loved more fondly than a
brother. It matters not what Raben-
horst becomes when this is o'er, for all
that made his life worth living hath been
torn from him. But one thing now re-
mains, and this is quickly settled. Again
the sword, long ages curse of all our
line, must dip in human blood by hand
of Rabenhorst. For I must slay thee,
Thorg; there is no other thing to do.
But yet, I may not kill thee as a man doth
kill some loathsome churl that wrongs
him in his home, for I owe thee much,
and a knight thou art of noble lineage,
and always honest at the core until this
hour. And then, thou hast, in days now
past, both served and loved me well, and
twice didst save my life upon the battle-
[»S]


The Silent Maid
him before it should be too late; and,
ushered to the bedside of the dying lord,
he told him all the truth and nothing
left unsaid. Then Rabenhorst, perceiv-
ing how it was, and that the maiden of
no mortal people came, and that she
never loved him or could love, forgave
the knight his wrong against himself,
and sent him far away to a distant place,
with strict command to be an holy man
until his hour should come. "For never-
more," said he, " can stained knight hold
lance at rest, and sin so deep as thine
needs much repentance. As for me," he
slow continued, "nothing may be said.
I understand it now, and see the truth.
The curse of all the Rabenhorsts doth
bind upon me, and from that there is no
hiding, nor in love could I have hoped
[ 2I7 ]


The Silent Maid
to dwell, e'en had the maid been true,
for such as she can love but once, and are
not won like mortal maids. And so it is
that nevermore it shall be mine to love
a maid, or friendship have with thee or
any man. But Thorg, thy brother, whom
I slew (not knowing this was wrong),
him will I seek among the noble dead;
and he, forgiving me, as I do thee, will
let me dwell beside him, for his love is
broad, and large enough to cover even
me.
Thus speaking, he dismissed the
knight, and, sending for his servitors,
gave strict orders for the caring of the
child, that should become his heir.
"Perhaps," he said, "he being of a dif-
ferent blood, the curse may not descend
to him." And also strictest orders gave
[ai8 ]


The Silent Maid
he for the mother's guard — but he
called her not, for 'twas not good, he
said, to see her face again. And then, as
night came on and darkness grew within
the castle walls, he passed away. Nor
was there any certain when he died, so
gentle was his end.
That night, when all the castellany
slept, save those that watched beside the
coffined master, a wild, sweet singing
thrilled upon the air, and filled the
groves and swept across the opens to the
mountains far away. And those who
heard it started at the sound, for weird
and strange the music came, not seeming
to have cause at any point within the
whole domain, but everywhere at once,
and then again too far among the hills
[ 2I9 ]
r


The Silent Maid
to give it definite origin. And certain
ones attention gave, and caught the tones,
and knew it was their lady's voice that
sang upon the night:
"La-La, La-La, La-Li-o!
Hither come and thither go.
Swing your waving branches high,
Dream-tree, growing in the sky.
Eaglets, in your mountain nest,
Hide your heads on mother's breast.
Winds and waters pass you by,
Fire and tempest come not nigh.
Spirits of the dell below,
Tell me how the flowers grow.
Wreathe me o'er with roses rare,
Twine your lilies in my hair.
Cloudlets floating in the air,
Ever soaring, white and fair,
Take me up and let me be,
Sister friends, as one of ye.
La-La, La-La, La-Li-o.
Where do all the waters flow?
[ 22° ]








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