[figure description] Page 092.[end figure description]

During the foregoing scene, the Benedictine,
already known to the reader as Father Johan, had
awaited its issue with a species of lofty patience on
the steps of the altar. But in a character so exaggerated,
there remained little that was purely
natural; even the forbearance of the Monk partook
of the forced and fervid qualities of his mind. Conventual
discipline, deep and involuntary respect for
the Prior, and that very disdain which he felt for
all gentle means of recalling a sinner to the fold,
kept him tolerably tranquil, while Emich and his
spiritual superior held their parley; but there was a
gleam of wild delight in his eye, when he found, of
all that powerful and boasted fraternity, that he
alone remained to defend the altars. The feeling
of the moment in such a breast, notwithstanding
the scene of tumult that rather increased than diminished
in the church, was that of triumph. He
exulted in his own constancy, and he anticipated the
effects which were to follow from his firmness, with
the self-complacency of a prurient confidence, and
with the settled conviction of an enthusiast.

Emich took little heed of his presence, during
the first moments that succeeded the departure of
the Prior. There is a majesty, and a quiet energy,
in truth and sound principles, that happily form
their constant buttresses. Without this wise provision
of Providence, the world would be hopelessly
abandoned to the machinations of those who consider
all means lawful, provided the ends tend to

[figure description] Page 093.[end figure description]

their own success. All near the Abbey of Limburg
had felt the influence of these high qualities in
Father Arnolph, and it is more than probable that,
as in the case of the city of Canaan, had the community
contained four of his spiritual peers the
Abbey would not have fallen.

The Count, in particular, who, like all that first
break from mental servitude, was so often troubled
with strong doubts, had long entertained a deep
respect for this monk; and it is not improbable, that
had the pious Arnolph fully understood his own
power, by an earlier and more vigilant use of his
means, he might have found a way to avert the
blow that had now alighted on Limburg. But the
meekness and modesty of the Prior were qualities
as strongly marked as his more active virtues, and
the policy of Limburg was not of a character to
rely on either for its security.

“There is good in that brother,” said Emich to
Berchthold, when his thoughtful eye again rose to
the face of the young Forester.—“Had he been
mitred, instead of Bonifacius, our rights might have
still suffered.”

“Few are more beloved than Father Arnolph,
Herr Count, and none so deserve to be.”

“Thou art of this mind! How now, Master
Heinrich! art in monkish meditation in thy stall, or
dost dispose of the lesson of the virtuous Ulrike,
more at thy ease, in a seat where so much substantial
carnal aliment hath been digested by godly
Benedictines! Come to the front, like a stout soldier,
and give us the savor of thy good wisdom in this
strait.”

“Methinks, our work is well-nigh done, Lord Emich,”
answered Heinrich, complying with the request;
“my faithful townsmen are not idle in the chapels
and among the tombs, and the sledge of yon smith
dealeth with an angel an' it were a bar of molten

[figure description] Page 094.[end figure description]

iron. Each stroke leaves a mark that no chisel will
repair!”

“Let the knaves amuse themselves; every blow
is quickened by the recollection of some hard penance.
Thou seest that they place the confessionals
in a pile ready for the torch! This is attacking the
enemy in his citadel. But Heinrich, is the excellent
Ulrike wont to come forth with thee in thy frays
against the church? God's judgments! Were Ermengarde
of this humor, we should have no hope of
salvation in our castle!”

“You do my wife injustice, Herr Count; Ulrike
was here to pray, and not to encourage.”

“Thou mightest have spared the explanation, for
truly such encouragement never did soldier need!
Wert privy to the visit,—ha!—wert privy, worthy
Burgomaster?”

“To speak you honestly, Herr Emich, I thought
the woman otherwise bestowed.”

“By the Magi!—in her bed?”

“Nay, at her prayers, but in a different place.
But we do her too much honor, noble Emich, to let
the movements of a mere housewife occupy our
high thoughts in this busy moment.”

“Nothing that touches thee is of light concern
with thy friends, good Burgomaster,” answered the
Baron, who pondered with instinctive uneasiness,
even in that moment of tumult, on this visit of
Ulrike to the Benedictines, at an hour so unusual.

“Thou art well wived, Herr Heinrich, and all
that know thy consort do her honor!”

The Burgomaster was a man by far too well satisfied
with his own superior merits to harbor jealousy.
Self-complacency might have been at the
bottom of his security, though it were scarce possible
for one even much more addicted by nature to
that tormenting passion, to have lived so long in
perfect familiarity with the pure mind of Ulrike,

[figure description] Page 095.[end figure description]

without feeling reverence for its principles and virtue.
The sentiments of the Baron were very different;
for though in his heart equally convinced of the
character of her to whom he alluded, he could not
altogether exclude the suspicions of a man of loose
habits, nor the uneasiness of one who had himself
been discarded. The answer of the husband, however,
served to turn the discourse, by giving the Burgomaster
an opportunity of placing himself in the
most prominent relief.

“A thousand thanks, illustrious Herr,” he said,
raising his cap; “the woman is not amiss, though
much troubled with infirmity on the score of altars
and penances. When we shall have fairly disposed
of Limburg, another reign will commence among
our wives and daughters, and we can hope for more
quiet Sabbaths. As to this grace of your present
speech, Lord Count, I take it, as it was no doubt
meant, to be another pledge of our lasting amity
and close alliance.”

“Thou talkest well,” quickly answered Emich,
losing the passing feeling of distrust in the recollection
of his present purpose; “no words of friendship
are lost, on a true and sworn supporter. Well,
Heinrich, is our affair finally achieved?”

“Sapperment! Herr Count, if not finished, it is
in a fair way to be so quickly.”

“Here remaineth a Benedictine!' said Berchthold,
drawing their attention to the Monk, who still maintained
his post on the steps of the altar.

“The bees do not relish quitting their hive, while
any of the hard earnings are left,” said the Count,
laughing; “what wouldst thou, Father Johan?—if
thy careful mind hath had thought of the precious
vessels, make thy choice and depart.”

The Benedictine returned the laugh of the noble,
with a smile of deep but quiet exultation.

“Assemble thy followers, rude Baron,” he said;

[figure description] Page 096.[end figure description]

“call all within thy control to this sanctified spot,
for there yet remaineth a power to be overcome of
which thou hast not taken heed; at the moment
when thou fanciest thyself most secure, art thou
nearest to disgrace and to destruction.”

As the excited Monk suited his words by a corresponding
energy of emphasis and tone, Emich
recoiled a step, like one who distrusted a secret
mine. The desperate character of Father Johan's
enthusiasm was well known, and neither of the
three listeners was without apprehension, that the
fraternity, aware of the invasion, had plotted some
deep design of vengeance, which this exaggerated
brother had been deputed to execute.

“Ho! without there!” cried the Count—“Let a
party descend quickly to the crypt, and look to the
villanies of these pretended saints; cousin of Viederbach,”
revealing in the eagerness of the moment
the presence of this sworn soldier of the Cross, “see
thou to our safety, for the Rhodian warfare hath
made thee familiar with these treacheries.”

The call of the Count, which was uttered like a
battle cry, stayed the hands of the destroyers.
Some rushed to obey the order, while most of the
others gathered hastily into the choir. It is certain
that the presence of fellow-sufferers diminishes the
force of fear, even though it may in truth increase
the danger; for such is the constitution of our minds,
that they willingly admit the influence of sympathy,
whether it be in pain or pleasure. When Emich
found himself backed by so many of his band, he
thought less of the apprehended mine, and he turned
to question the Monk, with more of the calmness
that became his condition.

“Thou wouldst have the followers of Hartenburg,
Father,” he said, ironically, “and thou seest
how readily they come!”

“I would that all who have listened to schismatics

[figure description] Page 097.[end figure description]

—all who refuse honor to the holy Church—all who
deny Rome—and all that believe themselves on
earth freed from the agency of Heaven, now stood
before me!” answered the Benedictine, examining
the group of heads that clustered among the stalls,
with the bright but steady eye of one engrossed
with the consciousness of his force. “Thou art in
hundreds, Count Leiningen—would it were God's
pleasure that it had been in millions!”

“We are of sufficient strength for our object,
Monk.”

“That remaineth to be seen. Now, listen to a
voice from above!—I speak to you, unhallowed
ministers of the will of this ambitious Baron—to
you, misguided and ignorant tools of a scheme
that hath been plotted of evil, and hath been brought
forth from the prolific brain of the restless Father
of Sin. Ye have come at the heels of your lord,
vainly rejoicing in a visible but impotent power—
impiously craving the profits of your unholy enterprise,
and forgetting God!”—

“By the mass, priest!” interrupted Emich; “thou
hast once already given us a sermon to day, and
time presseth. If thou hast an enemy to present,
bring him forth; but we tire of these churchly
offices.”

“Thou hast had thy moment of wanton will,
abandoned Emich, and now cometh the judgment—
seest thou this box of precious relics!—dost thou
forget that Limburg is rich in these holy remains,
and that their virtues are yet untried?—Woe to
him who scoffeth at their character, and despiseth
their power!”

“Stay thy hand, Johan!” cried the Count hastily,
when he saw that the Monk was about to expose
some of those well-known vestiges of mortality to
which the Church of Rome then, as now, attributed

[figure description] Page 098.[end figure description]

miraculous interventions; “this is no moment for
fooleries!”

“Callest thou this sacred office by so profane a
name!—abide the issue, foul-mouthed asperser of
our holy authority, and triumph if thou canst!”

The Count was much disturbed, for his reason
had far less influence now in supporting him than
his ambition. The party in the rear, too, began to
waver, for opinion was not then sufficiently confirmed
to render the mass indifferent to such an exposure
of clerical power. Whatever may be the
difference that exists between Christian sects concerning
the validity of modern miracles, all will
allow, that, when trained in the belief of their reality,
the mind is less prepared to resist their influence
than that of any other engine by which it can be
assailed, since it is placing the impotency of man
in direct and obvious collision with the power of
the Deity. Before such an exhibition of force, nature
offers no means of resistance; and the mysterious
and unseen agency by which the wonder is
produced, enlists in its interest both the imagination
and that innate dread of omnipotence which all possess.

“'Twere well this matter went no farther!” said
Emich, uneasily whispering his principal agents.

“Nay, my Lord Count,” answered Berchthold,
calmly, “it may be good to know the right of the
matter. If we are not of Heaven's side in this affair,
let it be shown in our own behalf; and if the
Benedictines are no better than pretenders, our consciences
will be all the easier.”

“Thou art presuming, boy—none know the end
of this!—Herr Heinrich, thou art silent?”

“What would you have, noble Emich, of a poor
Burgomaster? I will own, I think it were more for
the advantage of Deurckheim that the matter went
no farther.”

[figure description] Page 099.[end figure description]

“Thou hearest, Benedictine!” said the Count,
laying the point of his sheathed sword on the richly
chased and much reverenced box that the Monk had
already unlocked,—“this must stop here!”

“Take away the weapon, Emich of Leiningen,'
said father Johan, with dignity.

The Count obeyed, though he scarce knew why

“This is a fearful instant for the unbeliever,” continued
the Monk; “the moment is near when our
altars shall be avenged—nay, recoil not, bold Baron—
remain to the end, ye dissolute and forsaken followers
of the wicked, for in vain ye hope to flee
the judgment.”

There was so much of tranquil enthusiasm in the
air and faith of Father Johan, that, spite of a general
wish to be at a distance from the relics, curiosity,
and the inherent principle of religious awe, held each
man spell-bound; though every heart beat quicker
as the Monk proceeded, calmly, and with a reverential
mien, to expose the bones of saints, the remnants
of mantles, the reputed nails of the true cross, and
morsels of its wood, with divers other similar memorials
of holy events, and of sainted martyrs. Not
a foot had power to retire. When all were laid, in
solemn silence, on the bright and glowing shrine,
Father Johan, crossing himself, again turned to the
crowd.

“What may be Heaven's purpose in this strait, I
know not,” he said; “but withered be the hand, and
for ever accursed the soul, of him who dareth violence
to these holy vestiges of Christian faith!”

Uttering these ominous words, the Benedictine
faced the crucifix, and kneeled in silent prayer. The
minute that followed was one of fearful portent to
the cause of the invaders. Eye sought eye in doubt,
and one regarded the fretted vault, another gazed
intently at the speaking image of Maria, as if each
expected some miraculous manifestation of divine

[figure description] Page 100.[end figure description]

displeasure. The issue would have been doubtful, had
not the cherry-wood trumpet of the cow-herd again
sounded most opportunely in his master's behalf. The
wily knave blew a well-known and popular imitation
of the beasts of his herd, among the arches of the
chapel, striking at the effect of what had just passed
by the interposition of a familiar and vulgar idea
The influence of the ludicrous, at moments when
the passions vacillate, or the reason totters, is too
well known to need elucidation. It is another of
those caprices of humanity that baffle theories, proving
how very far we are removed from being the
exclusively reasoning animal we are fond of thinking
the species.

The expedient of the ready-witted Gottlob produced
its full effect. The most ignorant of the castle
followers, those even whose dull minds had been on
the verge of an abject deference to superstition, took
courage at the daring of the cow-herd; and, as the
least founded in any belief are commonly the most
vociferous in its support, this portion of the band
echoed the interruption from fifty hoarse throats.
Emich felt like a man reprieved; for under the double
influence of his own distrust, and the wavering
of his followers, the Count for a moment had fancied
his long-meditated destruction of the community
of Limburg in great danger of being frustrated.

Encouraged by each other's cries, the invaders
returned to their work laughing at their own alarm.
The chairs and confessionals had been already
heaped in the great aisle, and a brand was thrown
into the pile. Fire was applied to the church wherever
there was food for the element, and some of
the artisans of Deurckheim, better instructed than
their looser associates, found the means to light the
conflagration in such parts of the roofs and the other
superior stories, as would insure the destruction of
the pile. In the mean time, all the exterior edifices

[figure description] Page 101.[end figure description]

had been burning, and the whole hill, to the eye of
him who dwelt in the valley beneath, presented
volumes of red flame, or of lurid smoke.

During the progress of this scene, Emich paced
the choir, partly exulting in his success, and partly
doubting of its personal fruits. Over the temporal
consequences he had well pondered; but the motionless
attitude of Father Johan, the presence of the
long-reverenced relics, and the denunciations of the
Church, still had their terrors for one whose mind
had few well-grounded resources to sustain it. From
this state of uneasiness he was aroused by the noise
of the sledge, at work in the crypt. Followed by
Heinrich and Berchthold, the Count hastened to descend
to this place, which it will be remembered
contained the tombs and the chapel of his race.
Here, as above, all was in bright light, and all was
in confusion. Most of the princely and noble tombs
had already undergone mutilation, and no chapel
had been respected. Before that of Hartenburg,
however, Albrecht of Viederbach stood, with folded
arms and a thoughtful eye. The cloak which, during
the commencement of the attack, had served to
conceal his person, was now neglected, and he
seemed to forget the prudence of disguise, in deep
contemplation.

“We have at length got to the monuments of
our fathers, cousin;” said the Count, joining him.

“To their very bones, noble Emich!”

“The worthy knights have long slept in evil company;
there shall be further rest for them in the
chapel of Hartenburg.”

“I hope it may be found, Herr Graf, that this ad
venture is lawful!”

“How!—dost thou doubt, with the work so near
accomplished?”

“By the mass! a soldier of Rhodes might better
be fighting your turbaned infidel, than awakening

[figure description] Page 102.[end figure description]

the nobles of his own house from so long a sleep, at
so short a summons!”

“Thou canst retire into my hold, Herr Albrecht,
if thy arm is wearied,” said Emich, coldly; “not a
malediction can reach thee there.”

“That would be poor requital for a free hospital
ity, cousin; the travelling knight is the ally of the
last friend, even though there be some wrong to
general duties. But we cavaliers of the island well
know, that a retreat, to be honorable, must be orderly,
and not out of season. I am with thee,
Emich, for the hour, and so no more parley. This
was the image of the good Bishop of our line?”

“He had some such reverend office, I do believe;
but speak of him as thou wilt, none can say he was
a Benedictine.”

“It had been better, cousin, since this church is
to be sacked, that our predecessors had found other
consecrated ground for their dust. Well, we sworn
soldiers pass uneven lives! It is now some twelve
months or so, that like a loyal and professed Rhodian,
I stood to my knees in water, making good a
trench against your believer in Houris and your
unbeliever in Christ; and now, forsooth, I am here
as a spectator (none call me more with honesty),
while a Christian altar is overturned, and a brotherhood
of shaven monks are sent adrift upon earth,
like so many disbanded mercenaries!”

“By the Three Kings! my cousin, thou makest
a fit comparison; for like disbanded mercenaries
have they gone forth to prey upon society in a
new shape.—Spare the angel of my grandfather,
good smith,” cried Emich, interrupting himself; “if
there be any virtue in the image, 'tis for the benefit
of our house!”

Dietrich stayed his uplifted arm, and directed the
intended blow at another object. The marble flew
in vast fragments at each collision with his sledge,

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and the leaders of the party soon found it necessary
to retire, to avoid the random efforts of the heated
crowd.

There no longer remained a doubt of the fate
of these long-known and much-celebrated conventual
buildings. Tomb fell after tomb, monuments
were defaced, altars were overturned, chapels sacked,
and every object that was in the least likely to resist
the action of fire, received such indelible injuries
as rendered its restoration difficult or impossible.

During the continuance of their efforts, the conflagration
had advanced, as the fierce element that
had been called in to assist the destroyers is known
to do its work. Most of the dormitories, kitchens,
and outer buildings were consumed, so far as the
materials allowed, beyond redress; and it became
apparent that the great church and its dependencies
would soon be untenable.

Emich and his companions were still in the crypt,
when a cry reached them, admonishing all within
hearing to retreat, lest they become victims to the
flames. Berchthold and the smith drove before them
the crowd from the crypt, and there was a general
rush to gain the outer door.

When the interior of the church was clear, the
Count and his followers paused in the court, contemplating
the scene, with curious eyes, like men
satisfied with their work. No sooner was the common
attention directed back towards the spot from
whence they had just escaped, than a general cry,
that partook equally of wonder and horror, broke
from the crowd. As the doors were all thrown wide,
and every cranny of the building was illuminated
by the fierce light of the flames that were raging in
the roofs, the choir was nearly as visible to those
without, as if it stood exposed to the rays of a noon-day
sun. Father Johan was still kneeling before the
altar.

[figure description] Page 104.[end figure description]

In obedience to the commands of Emich, the
sacred shrine had been stript of its precious vessels,
but none had presumed to touch a relic. On these
long-venerated memorials, the Benedictine kept his
eyes riveted, in the firm conviction that, sooner or
later, the power of God would be made manifest in
defence of his violated temple.

“The monk! the monk!” exclaimed fifty eager
voices.

“I would fain save the fanatic!” said Emich, with
great and generous concern.

“He may listen to one who beareth this holy emblem,”
cried the Knight of Rhodes, releasing his
cross from the doublet in which it had been concealed.
“Will any come with me, to the rescue of
this mad Benedictine?”

There was as much of repentant atonement in
the offer of Albrecht of Viederbach, as there was
of humanity. But the impulse which led young
Berchthold forward, was purely generous. Notwithstanding
the imminent peril of the attempt, they
darted together into the building, and passed swiftly
up the choir. The heat was getting to be oppressive,
though the great height of the ceilings still rendered
it tolerable. They approached the altar, advising
the monk of his danger by their cries.

“Do ye come to be witnesses of Heaven's power?”
demanded Father Johan, smiling with the calm of
an inveterate enthusiast; “or do ye come, sorestricken
penitents that ye have done this deed?”

“Away, good father!” hurriedly answered Berchthold;
“Heaven is against the community to-night;
in another minute, yon fiery roof will fall.”

“Hearest thou the blasphemer, Lord? Is it thy
holy will, that”—

“Listen to a sworn soldier of the cross,” interrupted
Albrecht, showing his Rhodian emblem—

[figure description] Page 105.[end figure description]

“we are of one faith, and we will now depart together
for another trial.”

“Away! false servant! and thou, abandoned boy!—
See ye these sainted relics?”—

At a signal from the knight, Berchthold seized the
monk by one side, while Albrecht did the same
thing on the other, and he was yet speaking as they
bore him down the choir. But they struggled with
one that a long-encouraged and morbid view of
life had rendered mad. Before they reached the
great aisle, the fanatic had liberated himself, and,
while his captors were recovering breath, he was
again at the foot of the altar. Instead of kneeling,
however, Father Johan now seized the most venerated
of the relics, which he held on high, audibly
imploring Heaven to hasten the manifestation of its
majesty.

“He is doomed!” said Albrecht of Viederbach,
retiring from the church.

As the Knight of Rhodes rushed through the
great door, a massive brand fell from the ceiling
upon the pavement, scattering its coals like so many
twinkling stars.

“Berchthold! Berchthold!” was shouted from a
hundred throats.

“Come forth, rash boy!” cried Emich, with a
voice in which agony was blended with the roar of
the conflagration.

Berchthold seemed spell-bound. He gazed wistfully
at the monk, and darted back again towards
the altar. An awful crashing above, which resembled
the settling of a mountain of snow about to
descend in an avalanche, grated on the ear. The
very men who, so short a time before, had come
upon the hill ready and prepared to slay, now uttered
groans of horror at witnessing the jeopardy of their
fellow-creatures; for, whatever we may be in moments
of excitement, there are latent sympathies in

[figure description] Page 106.[end figure description]

human nature, which too much use may deaden,
but which nothing but death can finally extinguish.

“Come forth, young Berchthold! come forth, my
gallant forester!” shouted the voice of the Count
above the clamor of the crowd, as if rallying his
followers with a battle-cry. “He will die with the
wretched monk!—The youth is mad!”

Berchthold was struggling with the Benedictine,
though none knew what passed between them. There
was another crash, and the whole pavement began
to glow with fallen brands. Then came a breaking
of rafters, and a scattering of fire that denoted the
end. The interior of the chapel resembled the burning
shower which usually closes a Roman girandola,
and the earth shook with the fall of the massive
structure. There are horrors on which few human
eyes can bear to dwell. At this moment nearly
every hand veiled a face, and every head was averted.
But the movement lasted only an instant. When
the interior was again seen, it appeared a fiery furnace.
The altar still stood, however, and Johan
miraculously kept his post on its steps. Berchthold
had disappeared. The gesticulations of the Benedictine
were wilder than ever, and his countenance
was that of a man whose reason had hopelessly departed.
He kept his feet only for a moment, but
withering fell. After which his body was seen to
curl like a green twig that is seared by the flames.

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