Barbara Blomberg — Complete, Georg Ebers [the reader ebook .TXT] 📗

the world, he would settle upon him a yearly income of from twenty to thirty thousand ducats, which was to pass also to his heirs. Whatever mode of life he might choose, he commanded his son Philip to honour him and treat him with due respect.

As on the day before, when Barbara had only learned in general terms what the codicil contained, her soul to-day, while listening to the more minute particulars, was filled with grateful joy.

Her sacrifice had not been vain. For years the fear of seeing her son vanish in a monastery had darkened her days and nights, and Quijada and Dona Magdalena had also probably dreaded that King Philip might confide his half-brother to a reformed order, for the monarch had by no means hastened to inform the anxious pair what he had determined.

It was not until the end of September that, upon the pretext of hunting, he went to the monastery of San Pedro de la Espina, a league from Villagarcia, and ordered Don Luis to seek him there with the boy. He was to leave the latter wholly unembarrassed, and not even inform him that the gentleman whom he would meet was the King.

His decision, he had added in the chilling manner characteristic of him, would depend upon circumstances.

Quijada, with a throbbing heart, obeyed, but Geronimo had no suspicion of what awaited him, and only wondered why his mother took so much trouble about his dress, since they were merely going hunting. The tears glittering in her eyes he attributed to the anxiety which she often expressed when he rode with the hunters on the fiery young Andalusian which his father had given him. He was then twelve years and a half old, but might easily have been taken for fourteen.

“It was a splendid sight,” Wolf went on, “as the erect figure of the dark Don Luis, on his powerful black stallion, galloped beside the fair, handsome boy with his white skin and blue eyes, who managed his spirited dun horse so firmly and joyously.

“Dona Magdalena and I followed them on our quiet bays. Her lips moved constantly, and her right hand never stirred from the rosary at her belt while we were riding along the woodland paths.

“To soothe her, I began to talk about the pieces of music which his Majesty had brought from Brussels, but she did not hear me. So I remained silent until the monastery glimmered through the trees. The blood left her cheeks, for at the same moment the thought came to us both that King Philip was taking him to the monks.

“But we had scarcely time to confide what we feared to each other ere the blast of horns echoed from the forest.

“Then, to calm the anxious mother’s heart, I remarked, ‘His Majesty would not have the horns sounded in that way if he were taking the pious brothers a new companion,’ and Dona Magdalena’s wan cheeks again flushed slightly.

“The forest is cleared in front of the monastery, but it surrounds on all sides the open glade amid whose grass the meadow saffron was then growing thickly.

“I can still see Geronimo as he swung himself from the saddle to gather some of the flowers. His mother needed them as medicine for a poor woman in the village.

“We stopped behind the last trees, where we had a good view of the glade. Don Luis left the boy to himself for a time; but when the blast of horns and the baying of the hounds sounded nearer, he ordered him, in the commanding tone he used in teaching him to ride, to remount.

“Geronimo laughed, thrust the flowers hastily into his saddlebag, and with a bold leap vaulted on his horse’s back.

“A few minutes after, the King rode out of the forest.

“He was mounted on a noble bay hunting charber, and wore a huntsman’s dress.

“No rider can hold a slender figure more erect.

“His haughty head, with the fair, pointed beard, was carried slightly thrown back, which gave him an especially arrogant appearance.

“When he saw Quijada, he raised his riding-whip with a significant gesture to his lips. We, too, understood what it meant, and Don Luis knew him far better than we.

“He greeted the King without the least constraint, as if he were merely a friend of noble birth, then beckoned to Geronimo, and the introduction was only the brief words, ‘My son’ and ‘The Count of Flanders.’

“The boy raised his little plumed hat with frank courtesy and, while bowing in the saddle, forced his dun horse to approach the King sideways. It was no easy matter, and seemed to please his Majesty, for a smile of satisfaction flitted over his cold features, and we heard him exclaim to Quijada, ‘A horseman, and, if the saints so will, a knight well pleasing to Heaven.’

“What more he said to the boy we learned later. The words which by the movement of his lips we saw that he added to the exclamation were, ‘Unless our noble young friend prefers to consecrate himself in humility to the service of the highest of all Masters.’

“He had pointed to the monastery as he spoke. Geronimo did not delay his reply, but, crossing himself, answered quickly:

“‘I wish to be a faithful servant of our Lord Jesus Christ, but only in the world, fighting against his foes.’

“Philip nodded so eagerly that his stiff white ruff was pushed awry, and then, with patronizing approval, added: ‘So every nobleman ought to think. You, my young friend, saw a short time ago at the auto-da-fe in Valladolid how a considerable number of Spanish gentlemen of the noblest blood expiated at the stake the mortal sin of heresy. A severe punishment, and a terrible end! Would you perhaps have preferred to see his Majesty’s mercy grant them their lives?’

“‘On no account, my Lord Count,’ cried Geronimo eagerly. ‘There is no mercy for the heretic.’

“His Majesty now summoned the two knights who attended him and, while one held his horse, he dismounted.

“At a sign from Quijada, Geronimo now also sprang to the ground, and gazed wonderingly at the stranger, whom, on account of his fair beard, he supposed to be a Netherland noble; but Dona Magdalena could bear to remain under the trees no longer, and I followed her to the edge of the meadow. The King advanced toward the boy, and stood before him with so proud and dignified a bearing that one might have supposed his short figure had grown two heads taller.

“Geronimo must have felt that some very distinguished personage confronted him, and that something great awaited him, for he involuntarily raised his hat again. His wavy golden locks now fell unconfined around his head, his cheeks glowed, and his large blue eyes gazed questioningly and with deep perplexity into the stranger’s face as he said slowly, with significant emphasis: ‘I am not the man whom you suppose. Who, boy, do you think that I might be?’

“‘Geronimo turned pale; only one head could be lifted with so haughty a majesty, and suddenly remembering the face which he had seen upon many a