"But I. Eliza--I have to tell you many things yet," said Ulrich, detaining her. "Pray, stay yet awhile and listen to me!""No, sir, it is time for me to go; my mother is waiting for me,"replied Eliza, withdrawing her hand from his. "Good-by, and if you can pray, pray to God to protect you to-night!"She opened the door hastily and stepped out, and smiled at Schroepfel, but the old servant looked at her gloomily.
"You stayed a long while with the Bavarian," he growled.
"And yet you did not eat your cake nor empty your glass in the mean time," said Eliza, with a smile. "You looked again through the hole in the door, did you not? You saw, then, Schroepfel, that we stood together like a pair of sensible lovers.""I did not see any thing," exclaimed Schroepfel, angrily, "for you placed yourself close to the window, and my hole does not enable me to look around the corner; nor did I hear any thing, for you whispered as softly as though you were a couple of sparrows which understand each other when billing and cooing.""Fie, Schroepfel! do not talk such nonsense," cried Eliza, blushing deeply. "Behave yourself, Schroepfel, and I will bring you another bottle of wine to-day, and beg father to let you come down to supper to-night, and permit you to sleep in your bedchamber.""I shall take good care to do no such thing," growled Schroepfel. "Iam a sentinel here, and must not desert my post.""But you may take your sentry-box with you," said Eliza, pointing to his settee. "When a soldier remains close to his sentry-box, he does not desert his post. Well, good-by, Schroepfel; the sentinel will be relieved to-night."Eliza's words were fulfilled. Toward nightfall she informed Schroepfel that her father permitted him to take his supper at the table down-stairs, and afterward go to bed in his own chamber.
"Well, and who is to watch the prisoner in the mean time?" asked Schroepfel.
"You yourself! Look, you will lock the door and put the key in your pocket. In addition, you may put that heavy box yonder against the door; then you will be sure that your prisoner cannot get out, for Ithink his chamber has no other outlet."
"Yes, it has--the window!"
"Do you think the Bavarian has wings and will fly out of the window to-night?""It is true he cannot fly out, nor can he jump out, for he would simply break his neck. But, nevertheless, I do not like this arrangement at all. Something tells me that it will turn out wrong.
I shall, at least, unchain the watch-dog, who will prevent the Bavarian from escaping through the window. For the rest, I feel that all my limbs are stiff, and that I have at length deserved some repose. As it is your father's will, I will go down-stairs, take supper, and afterward go to bed in my chamber. If any thing happens, I shall wash my hands of it.""Wash them as much as you please, Schroepfel, but come down to supper," cried Eliza, hastening down-stairs with the agility of a bird.
Schroepfel looked after her, shaking his head; he then locked the door, put the key in his pocket, and placed the heavy iron-bound box against the door.
"And before going to bed I shall unchain Phylax," he said, as if to console himself, while he was going slowly and stiffly down-stairs.
Schroepfel kept his word. Weary and exhausted as he was, he waited until all the inmates of the house bad gone to bed, and until all noise had died away. He then went into the yard and unchained the formidable and ill-humored watch-dog. Phylax howled and trembled with joy and delight at being released; but Schroepfel seized his ear and pointed his other hand at the prisoner's window, which was brightly illuminated by the moon.
"Watch that window well, Phylax," he said, "watch it well; and if you see anything suspicious, call me at once. I shall not sleep so fast as not to hear your basking. Watch it well, Phylax."The dog looked up to the window as if he had understood the order;he then fixed his clear, lustrous eyes on Schroepfel, and uttered a threatening growl.
"Very well," said Schroepfel, "you have understood me. You will watch him, and I may go to bed."He dropped the ear of the dog, who thereupon bounded wildly through the yard, while Schroepfel limped back into the house. He was heard slowly ascending the staircase and opening the creaking door of his bed-chamber, and then all became silent.
Night spread its pall over the weary, the sleepers, and the weeping;the moon stood with silvery lustre high in the heavens, and illuminated the snow-clad summits of the mountains rising in the rear of the outbuildings in Wallner's yard. Hour after hour passed by, and all remained silent; not a sound broke the holy stillness of night.
Hour after hour passed by; nothing stirred in the yard; the dog sat, as if he had really understood Schroepfel's words, in the middle of the yard, and stared steadfastly at the prisoner's window. Phylax watched, as Schroepfel had gone to bed; Phylax watched, and did not avert his eyes from the window on which his whole attention seemed to be concentrated, for he did not stir, he did not even disturb the flies buzzing round his ears; be was all attention and vigilance.
All at once something occurred that had never happened to him during his nocturnal service; a wondrous, appetizing scent was wafted to him on the wings of the night-breeze. Phylax averted his eyes for a moment from the window and glanced searchingly round the yard.
Nothing stirred in it, but this wonderful scent of a roast sausage still impregnated the air, and seemed to grow even stronger and more tempting; for Phylax pricked up his ears, raised his nose, snuffing eagerly to inhale the scent, and rose from the ground. He glanced again round the yard, and then advanced a few steps toward the window yonder on the side of the house. This window was open, and the keen nose of the dog told him that the appetizing scent had come from it. All at once, however, Phylax stood still, as if remembering his master's orders, and looked again toward the prisoner's window.