Chapter 6





Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks,
A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,
All scattered in the bottom of the sea.

_Richard III._


The flitting twilight was now on the wane, and the shades of evening were
gathering fast over the deep basin of the lake. The figure of Maso, as he
continued to pace his elevated platform, was drawn dark and distinct
against the southern sky, in which some of the last rays of the sun still
lingered, but objects on both shores were getting to be confounded with
the shapeless masses of the mountains. Here and there a pale star peeped
out, though most of the vault that stretched across the confined horizon
was shut in by dusky clouds. A streak of dull, unnatural light was seen in
the quarter which lay above the meadows of the Rhone, and nearly in a
direction with the peak of Mont Blanc, which, though not visible from this
portion of the Leman, was known to lie behind the ramparts of Savoy, like
a monarch of the hills entrenched in his citadel of rocks and ice.

The change, the lateness of the hour, and the unpleasant reflections left
by the short dialogue with Balthazar, produced a strong and common desire
to see the end of a navigation that was beginning to be irksome. Those
objects which had lately yielded so much and so pure a delight were now
getting to be black and menacing, and the very sublimity of the scale on
which Nature had here thrown together her elements was an additional
source of uncertainty and alarm. Those fairy-like, softly-delineated,
natural arabesques, which had so lately been dwelt upon with rapture were
now converted into dreary crags that seemed to beetle above the helpless
bark, giving unpleasant admonitions of the savage and inhospitable
properties of their iron-bound bases, which were known to prove
destructive to all who were cast against them while the elements were in
disorder.

These changes in the character of the scene, which in some respects began
to take the aspect of omens, were uneasily witnessed by all in the stern
of the bark, though the careless laughter, the rude joke, and the noisy
cries, which from time to time arose on the forecastle, sufficiently
showed that the careless spirits it held were still indulging in the
coarse enjoyments most suited to their habits. One individual, however,
was seen stealing from the crowd, and establishing himself on the pile of
freight, as if he had a mind more addicted to reflection, and less
disposed to unmeaning revelry, than most of those whom he had just
abandoned. This was the Westphalian student, who, wearied with amusements
that were below the level of his acquirements, and suddenly struck with
the imposing aspect of the lake and the mountains, had stolen apart to
muse on his distant home and the beings most dear to him, under an
excitement that suited those morbid sensibilities which he had long
encouraged by a very subtle metaphysical system of philosophy. Until now,
Maso had paced his lofty post with his eye fixed chiefly on the heavens in
the direction of Mont Blanc, occasionally turning it, however, over the
motionless bulk of the bark, but when the student placed himself across
his path, he stopped and smiled at the abstracted air and riveted regard
with which the youth gazed at a star.

"Art thou an astronomer, that thou lookest so closely at yonder shining
world?" demanded Il Maledetto, with the superiority that the mariner
afloat is wont successfully to assume over the unhappy wight of a
landsman, who is very liable to admit his own impotency on the novel and
dangerous element:--"the astrologer himself would not study it more
deeply."

"This is the hour agreed upon between me and one that I love to bring the
unseen principle of our spirits together, by communing through its
medium."

"I have heard of such means of intercourse. Dost see more than others by
reason of such an assistant?"

"I see the object which is gazed upon, at this moment, by kind blue eyes
that have often looked upon me in affection. When we are in a strange
land, and in a fearful situation, such a communion has its pleasures!"

Maso laid his hand upon the shoulder of the student, which he pressed with
the force of a vice.

"Thou art right," he said, moodily; "make the most of thy friendships,
and, if there are any that love thee, tighten the knot by all the means
thou hast. None know the curse of being deserted in this selfish and cruel
battle of interest better than I! Be not ashamed of thy star, but gaze at
it till thy eye-strings crack. See the bright eyes of her that loves thee
in its twinkling, her constancy in its lustre, and her melancholy in its
sadness; lose not the happy moments, for there will soon be a dark curtain
to shut out its view."

The Westphalian was struck with the singular energy as well as with the
poetry of the mariner, and he distrusted the obvious allusion to the
clouds, which were, in fact, fast covering the vault above their heads.

"Dost thou like the night?" he demanded, turning from his star in doubt.

"It might be fairer. This is a wild region, and your cold Swiss lakes
sometimes become too hot for the stoutest seaman's heart. Gaze at thy star
young man, while thou mayest, and bethink thee of the maiden thou lovest
and of all her kindness; we are on a crazy water, and pleasant thoughts
should not be lightly thrown away."

Maso walked away, leaving the student alarmed, uneasy at he knew not what,
and yet bent with childish eagerness on regarding the little luminary that
occasionally was still seen wading among volumes of vapor. At this
instant, a shout of unmeaning, clamorous merriment arose on the
forecastle.

Il Maledetto did not remain any longer on the pile, but abandoning it to
the new occupant, he descended among the silent, thoughtful party who were
in possession of the cleared space near the stern. It was now so dark that
some little attention was necessary to distinguish faces, even at trifling
distances. But, by means of moving among these privileged persons with
great coolness and seeming indifference, he soon succeeded in placing
himself near the Genoese and the Augustine.

"Signore," he said, in Italian, raising his cap to the former with the
same marked respect as before, though it was evidently no easy matter to
impress him with the deference that the obscure usually feel for the
great--"this is likely to prove an unfortunate end to a voyage that began
with so fair appearances. I could wish that your eccellenza, with all this
noble and fair company, was safely landed in the town of V�vey."

"Dost thou mean that we have cause to fear more than delay?"

"Signore, the mariner's life is one of unequal chances: now he floats in a
lazy calm, and presently he is tossed between heaven and earth, in a way
to make the stoutest heart sick. My knowledge of these waters is not
great, but there are signs making themselves seen in the sky, here above
the peak that lies in the direction of Mont Blanc, that would trouble me,
were this our own clue but treacherous Mediterranean."

"What thinkest thou of this, father; a long residence in the Alps must
have given thee some insight into their storms?"

The Augustine had been grave and thoughtful from the moment that he ceased
to converse with Balthazar. He, too, had been struck with the omens, and,
long used to study the changes of the weather, in a region where the
elements sometimes work their will on a scale commensurate with the
grandeur of the mountains, his thoughts had been anxiously recurring to
the comforts and security of some of those hospitable roofs in the city to
which they were bound, and which were always ready to receive the clavier
of St. Bernard, in return for the services and self-denial of his
brotherhood.

"With Maso, I could wish we were safely landed," answered the good canon;
"the intense heat that a day like this creates in our valleys and on the
lakes so weakens the sub-strata, or foundations of air, that the cold
masses which collect around the glaciers sometimes descend like avalanches
from their heights, to fill the vacuum. The shock is fearful, even to
those who meet it in the glens and among the rocks, but the plunge of such
a column of air upon one of the lakes is certain to be terrible."

"And thou thinkest there is danger of one of these phenomena at present?"

"I know not; but I would we were housed! That unnatural light above, and
this deep tranquillity below, which surpasses an ordinary cairn have
already driven me to my aves."

"The reverend Augustine speaks like a book man, and one who has passed his
time, up in his mountain-convent, in study and reflection," rejoined Maso;
"whereas the reasons I have to offer savor more of the seaman's practice.
A calm like this, will be followed, sooner or later, by a commotion in the
atmosphere. I like not the absence of the breeze from the land, on which
Baptiste counted so surely, and, taking that symptom with the signs of
yonder hot sky, I look soon to see this extraordinary quiet displaced by
some violent struggle among the winds. Nettuno, too, my faithful dog, has
given notice, by the manner in which he snuffs the air, that we are not to
pass the night in this motionless condition."

"I had hoped ere this to be quietly in our haven. What means yonder bright
light? Is it a star in the heavens, or does it merely lie against the side
of the huge mountain?"

"There shines old Roger de Blonay!" cried the baron, heartily; "he knows
of our being in the bark, and he has fired his beacon that we may steer by
its light."

The conjecture seemed probable, for, while the day remained, the castle of
Blonay, seated on the bosom of the mountain that shelters V�vey to the
north-east, had been plainly visible. It had been much admired, a pleasing
object in a view that was so richly studded with hamlets and castles, and
Adelheid had pointed it out to Sigismund as the immediate goal of her
journey. The lord of Blonay being apprized of the intended visit nothing
was more probable than that he, an old and tried friend of Melchior de
Willading's should show this sign of impatience; partly in compliment to
those whom he expected, and partly as a signal that might be really useful
to those who navigated the Leman, in a night that threatened so much murky
obscurity.

The Signor Grimaldi rightly deemed the circumstances grave, and, calling
to him his friend and Sigismund, he communicated the apprehensions of the
monk and Maso. A braver man than Melchior de Willading did not dwell in
all Switzerland, but he did not hear the gloomy predictions of the Genoese
without shaking in every limb.

"My poor enfeebled Adelheid!" he said, yielding to a father's tenderness:
"what will become of this frail plant, if exposed to a tempest in an
unsheltered bark?"

"She will be with her father, and with her father's friend," answered the
maiden herself; for the narrow limits to which they were necessarily
confined, and the sudden burst of feeling in the parent, which had
rendered him incautious in pitching his voice, made her the mistress of
the cause of alarm. "I have heard enough of what the good Father Xavier
and this mariner have said, to know that we are in a situation that might
be better; but am I not with tried friends? I know already what the Herr
Sigismund can do in behalf of my life, and come what may, we have all a
beneficent guardian in One, who will not leave any of us to perish without
remembering we are his children."

"This girl shames us all," said the Signor Grimaldi; "but it is often thus
with these fragile beings, who rise the firmest and noblest in moments
when prouder man begins to despair. They put their trust in God, who is a
prop to sustain even those who are feebler than our gentle Adel held. But
we will not exaggerate the causes of apprehension, which, after all, may
pass away like many other threatening dangers, and leave us hours of
felicitation and laughter in return for a few minutes of fright."

"Say, rather of thanksgiving," observed the clavier, "for the aspect of
the heavens is getting to be fearfully solemn. Thou, who art a
mariner--hast thou nothing to suggest?"

"We have the simple expedient of our sweeps, father; but, after neglecting
their use so long, it is now too late to have recourse to them. We could
not reach V�vey by such means, with this bark loaded to the water's edge,
before the night would change, and, the water once fairly in motion, they
could not be used at all."

"But we have our sails," put in the Genoese; "they at least may do us good
service when the wind shall come."

Maso shook his head, but he made no answer. After a brief pause, in which
he seemed to study the heavens still more closely, he went to the spot
where the patron yet lay lost in sleep, and shook him rudely.--"Ho!
Baptiste! awake! there is need here of thy counsel and of thy commands."

The drowsy owner of the bark rubbed his eyes, and slowly regained the use
of his faculties.

"There is not a breath of wind," he muttered; "why didst awake me,
Maso?--One that hath led thy life should know that sleep is sweet to those
who toil."

"Ay, 'tis their advantage over the pampered and idle. Look at the heavens,
man, and let us know what thou thinkest of their appearance. Is there the
stuff in thy Winkelried to ride out a storm like this we may have to
encounter?"

"Thou talkest like a foolish quean that has been frightened by the
fluttering of her own poultry. The lake was never more calm, or the bark
in greater safety."

"Dost see yonder bright light; here, over the tower of thy V�vey church?"

"Ay, 'tis a gallant star! and a fair sign for the mariner."

"Fool, 'tis a hot flame in Roger de Blonay's beacon. They begin to see
that we are in danger on the shore, and they cast out their signals to
give us notice to be active. They think us be-stirring ourselves like
stout men, and those used to the water, while, in truth, we are as
undisturbed as if the bark were a rock that might laugh at the Leman and
its waves. The man is benumbed," continued Maso, turning away towards the
anxious listeners; "he will not see that which is getting to be but too
plain to all the others in his vessel."

Another idle and general laugh from the forecastle came to contradict this
opinion of Maso's, and to prove how easy it is for the ignorant to exist
in security, even on the brink of destruction. This was the moment, when
nature gave the first of those signals that were "intelligible to vulgar
capacities. The whole vault of the heavens was now veiled, with the
exception of the spot so often named, which lay nearly above the brawling
torrents of the Rhone. This fiery opening resembled a window admitting of
fearful glimpses into the dreadful preparations that were making up among
the higher peaks of the Alps. A flash of red quivering light was emitted,
and a distant, rumbling rush, that was not thunder but rather resembled
the wheelings of a thousand squadrons into line, followed the flash. The
forecastle was deserted to a man, and the hillock of freight was again
darkly seen peopled with crouching human forms. Just then the bark which
had so long lain in a state of complete rest slowly and heavily raised its
bows, as if laboring under its great and unusual burthen, while a sluggish
swell passed beneath its entire length, lifting the whole mass, foot by
foot, and passing away by the stern, to cast itself on the shores of Vaud.

"'Tis madness to waste the precious moments longer!" said Maso hurriedly,
on whom this plain and intelligent hint was not lost. "Signori, we must be
bold and prompt, or we shall be overtaken by the tempest unprepared. I
speak not for myself, since, by the aid of this faithful dog, and favored
by my own arms, I have always the shore for a hope. But there is one in
the bark I would wish to save, even at some hazard to myself. Baptiste is
unnerved by fear, and we must act for our selves or perish!"

"What wouldest thou?" demanded the Signor Grimaldi; "he that can proclaim
the danger should have some expedient to divert it?"

"More timely exertion would have given us the resource of ordinary means;
but, like those who die in their sins, we have foolishly wasted most
precious minutes. We must lighten the bark, though it cost the whole of
her freight."

A cry from Nicklaus Wagner announced that the spirit of avarice was still
active as ever in his bosom. Even Baptiste, who had lost all his dogmatism
and his disposition to command, under the imposing omens which had now
made themselves apparent even to him, loudly joined in the protest against
this waste of property. It is rare that any sudden and extreme proposal,
like this of Maso's, meets with a quick echo in the judgments of those to
whom the necessity is unexpectedly presented. The danger did not seem
sufficiently imminent to have recourse to an expedient so decided; and,
though startled and aroused, the untamed spirits of those who crowded
the, menaced pile were rather in a state of uneasiness, than of that
fierce excitement to which they were so capable of being wrought, and
which was in some degree necessary to induce even them, thriftless and
destitute as they were, to be the agents of effecting so great a
destruction of properly. The project of the cool and calculating Maso
would therefore have failed entirely, but for another wheeling of those
airy squadrons, and a second wave which lifted the groaning bark until the
loosened yards swung creaking above their heads. The canvass flapped, too,
in the darkness, like some huge bird of prey fluttering its feathers
previously to taking wing.

"Holy and just Ruler of the land and the sea!" exclaimed the Augustine,
"remember thy repentant children, and have us, at this awful moment, in
thy omnipotent protection!"

"The winds are come down, and even the dumb lake sends us the signal to be
ready!" shouted Maso. "Overboard with the freight, if ye would live!"

A sudden heavy plunge into the water, proved that the mariner was in
earnest. Notwithstanding the imposing and awful signs with which they were
surrounded, every individual of the nameless herd bethought him of the
puck that contained his own scanty worldly effects, and there was a
general and quick movement, with a view to secure them. As each man
succeeded in effecting his own object, he was led away by that community
of feeling which rules a multitude. The common rush was believed to be
with a view to succor Maso, though each man secretly knew the falsity of
the impression as respected his own particular case; and box after box
began to tumble into the water, as new and eager recruits lent themselves
to the task. The impulse was quickly imparted from one to another, until
even young Sigismund was active in the work. On these slight accidents do
the most important results depend, when the hot impulses that govern the
mass obtain the ascendant.

It is not to be supposed that either Baptiste, or Nicklaus Wagner,
witnessed the waste of their joint effects with total indifference. So far
from this, each used every exertion in his power to prevent it, not only
by his voice, but with his hands. One menaced the law--the other
threatened Maso with condign punishment for his interference with a
patron's rights and duties; but their remonstrances were uttered to
inattentive ears. Maso knew himself to be irresponsible by situation, for
it was not an easy matter to bring him within the grasp of the
authorities; and as for the others, most of them were far too
insignificant to feel much apprehension for a reparation that would be
most likely, if it fell at all, to fall on those who were more able to
bear it. Sigismund alone exerted himself under a sense of his liabilities;
but he worked for one that was far dearer to him than gold, and little did
he bethink him of any other consequences than those which might befall the
precious life of Adelheid de Willading.

The meagre packages of the common passengers had been thrown in a place of
safety, with the sort of unreflecting instinct with which we take care of
our limbs when in danger. This timely precaution permitted each to work
with a zeal that found no drawback in personal interest, and the effect
was in proportion. A hundred hands were busy, and nearly as many throbbing
hearts lent their impulses to the accomplishment of the one important
object.

Baptiste and his people, aided by laborers of the port, had passed an
entire day in heaping that pile on the deck of the Winkelried, which was
now crumbling to pieces with a rapidity that seemed allied to magic. The
patron and Nicklaus Wagner bawled themselves hoarse, with uttering useless
threats and deprecations, for by this time the laborers in the work of
destruction had received some such impetus as the rolling stone acquires
by the increased momentum of its descent. Packages, boxes, bales, and
everything that came to hand, were hurled into the water frantically, and
without other thought than of the necessity of lightening the groaning
bark of its burthen. The agitation of the lake, too, was regularly
increasing, wave following wave, in a manner to cause the vessel to pitch
heavily, as it rose upon the coming, or sunk with the receding swell. At
length, a shout announced that, in one portion of the pile, the deck was
attained!

The work now proceeded with greater security to those engaged, for,
hitherto the motion of the bark, and the unequal footing, frequently
rendered their situations, in the darkness and confusion, to the last
degree hazardous. Maso now abandoned his own active agency in the toil,
for no sooner did he see the others fairly and zealously enlisted in the
undertaking, than he ceased his personal efforts to give those directions
which, coming from one accustomed to the occupation, were far more
valuable than any service that could be derived from a single arm.

"Thou art known to me, Signor Maso," said Baptiste, hoarse with his
impotent efforts to restrain the torrent, "and thou shalt answer for this,
as well as for other of thy crimes, so soon as we reach the haven of
V�vey!"

"Dotard! thou would'st carry thyself and all with thee, by thy narrowness
of spirit, to a port from which, when it is once entered, none ever sail
again."

"It lieth between ye both," rejoined Nicklaus Wagner; "thou art not less
to blame than these madmen, Baptiste. Hadst thou left the town at the hour
named in our conditions, this danger could not have overtaken us."

"Am I a god to command the winds! I would that I had never seen thee or
thy cheeses, or that thou wouldst relieve me of thy presence, and go after
them into the lake."

"This comes of sleeping on duty; nay, I know not but that a proper use of
the oars would still bring us in, in safety, and without necessary harm to
the property of any. Noble Baron de Willading, here may be occasion for
your testimony, and, as a citizen of Berne, I pray you to heed well the
circumstances."

Baptiste was not in a humor to bear these merited reproaches, and he
rejoined upon the aggrieved Nicklaus in a manner that would speedily have
brought their ill-timed wrangle to an issue, had not Maso passed rudely
between them, shoving them asunder with the sinews of a giant. This
repulse served to keep the peace for the moment, but the wordy war
continued with so much acrimony, and with so many unmeasured terms, that
Adelheid and her maids, pale and terror-struck by the surrounding scene as
they were, gladly shut their ears, to exclude epithets of such bitterness
and menace that they curdled the blood. Maso passed on among the workmen,
when he had interposed between the disputants. He gave his orders with
perfect self-possession, though his understanding eye perceived that,
instead of magnifying the danger, he had himself not fully anticipated its
extent. The rolling of the waves was now incessant, and the quick, washing
rush of the water, a sound familiar to the seaman, announced that they
had become so large that their summits broke, sending their lighter foam
ahead. There were symptoms, too, which proved that their situation was
understood by those on the land. Lights were flashing along the strand
near V�vey, and it was not difficult to detect, even at the distance at
which they lay, the evidences of a strong feeling among the people of the
town.

"I doubt not that we have been seen," said Melchior de Willading, "and
that our friends are busy in devising means to aid us. Roger de Blonay is
not a man to see us perish without an effort, nor would the worthy
bailiff, Peter Hofmeister, be idle, knowing that a brother of the
b�rgerschaft, and old school associate, hath need of his assistance."

"None can come to us, without running an equal risk with ourselves,"
answered the Genoese. "It were better that we should be left to our own
exertions. I like the coolness of this unknown mariner, and I put my faith
in God!"

A new shout proclaimed that the deck had been gained, on the other side of
the bark. Much the greater part of the deck-load had now irretrievably
disappeared, and the movements of the relieved vessel were more lively and
sane. Maso called to him one or two of the regular crew, and together they
rolled up the canvass, in a manner peculiar to the latine rig; for a
breath of hot air, the first of any sort that had been felt for many hours
passed athwart the bark. This duty was performed, as canvass is known to
be furled at need, but it was done securely. Maso then went among the
laborers again, encouraging them with his voice, and directing their
efforts with his counsel.

"Thou art not equal to thy task," he said, addressing one who was vainly
endeavoring to roll a bale to the side of the vessel, a little apart from
the rest of the busy crowd; "thou wilt do better to assist the others,
than to waste thy force here."

"I feel the strength to remove a mountain! Do we not work for our lives?"

The mariner bent forward, and looked into the other's face. These frantic
and ill-directed efforts came from the Westphalian student.

"Thy star has disappeared," he rejoined, smiling--for Maso had smiled in
scenes far more imposing, than even that with which he was now surrounded.

"She gazes at it still; she thinks of one that loves her, who is
journeying far from the fatherland."

"Hold! Since thou wilt have it so, I will help thee to cast this bale into
the water. Place thine arm thus; an ounce of well-directed force is worth
a pound that acts against itself."

Stooping together, their united strength did that which had baffled the
single efforts of the scholar. The package rolled to the gangway, and the
German, frenzied with excitement, shouted aloud! The bark lurched, and the
bale went over the side, as if the lifeless mass were suddenly possessed
with the desire to perform the evolution which its inert weight had so
long resisted. Maso recovered his footing, which had been deranged by the
unexpected movement, with a seaman's dexterity, but his companion was no
longer at his side. Kneeling on the gangway, he perceived the dark bale
disappearing in the element, with the feet of the Westphalian dragging
after. He bent forward to grasp the rising body, but it never returned to
the surface, being entangled in the cords, or, what was equally probable,
retained by the frantic grasp of the student, whose mind had yielded to
the awful character of the night.

The life of Il Maledetto had been one of great vicissitudes and peril. He
had often seen men pass suddenly into the other state of existence, and
had been calm himself amid the cries, the groans, and what is far more
appalling, the execrations of the dying, but never before had he witnessed
so brief and silent an end. For more than a minute, he hung suspended over
the dark and working water, expecting to see the student return; and, when
hope was reluctantly abandoned, he arose to his feet, a startled and
admonished man. Still discretion did not desert him. He saw the
uselessness, and even the danger, of distracting the attention of the
workmen, and the ill-fated scholar was permitted to pass away without a
word of regret or a comment on his fate. None knew of his loss but the
wary mariner, nor was his person missed by any of those who had spent the
day in his company. But she to whom he hud plighted his faith on the banks
of the Elbe long gazed at that pale star, and wept in bitterness that her
feminine constancy met with no return. Her true affections long outlived
their object, for his image was deeply enshrined in a warm female heart.
Days, weeks, months, and years passed for her in the wasting cheerlessness
of hope deferred, but the dark Leman never gave up its secret, and he to
whom her lover's fate alone was known little bethought him of an accident
which, if not forgotten, was but one of many similar frightful incidents
in his eventful career.

Maso re-appeared among the crowd, with the forced composure of one who
well knew that authority was most efficient when most calm. The command of
the vessel was now virtually with him, Baptiste, enervated by the
extraordinary crisis, and choking with passion, being utterly incapable of
giving a distinct or a useful order. It was fortunate for those in the
bark that the substitute was so good, for more fearful signs never
impended over the Leman than those which darkened the hour.

We have necessarily consumed much time in relating these events, the pen
not equalling the activity of the thoughts. Twenty minutes, however, had
not passed since the tranquillity of the lake was first disturbed, and so
great had been the exertions of those in the Winkelried, that the time
appeared to be shorter. But, though it had been so well employed, neither
had the powers of the air been idle. The unnatural opening in the heavens
was shut, and, at short intervals, those fearful wheelings of the a�rial
squadrons were drawing nearer. Thrice had fitful breathings of warm air
passed over the bark, and occasionally, as she plunged into a sea that was
heavier than common, the faces of those on board were cooled, as it might
be with some huge fan. These were no more, however, than sudden changes in
the atmosphere, of which veins were displaced by the distant struggle
between the heated air of the lake and that which had been chilled on the
glaciers, or, they were the still more simple result of the violent
agitation of the vessel.

The deep darkness which shut in the vault, giving to the embedded Leman
the appearance of a gloomy, liquid glen, contributed to the awful
sublimity of the night. The ramparts of Savoy were barely distinguishable
from the flying clouds, having the appearance of black walls, seemingly
within reach of the hand; while the more varied and softer c�tes of Vaud
lay an indefinable and sombre mass, less menacing, it is true, but equally
confused and unattainable.

Still the beacon blazed in the grate of old Roger de Blonay, and flaring
torches glided along the strand. The shore seemed alive with human
beings, able as themselves to appreciate and to feel for their situation.

The deck was now cleared, and the travellers were collected in a group
between the masts. Pippo had lost all his pleasantry under the dread signs
of the hour, and Conrad, trembling with superstition and terror, was free
from hypocrisy. They, and those with them, discoursed on their chances, on
the nature of the risks they ran, and on its probable causes.

"I see no image of Maria, nor even a pitiful lamp to any of the blessed,
in this accursed bark!" said the juggler, after several had hazarded their
quaint and peculiar opinions. "Let the patron come forth, and answer for
his negligence."

The passengers were about equally divided between those who dissented from
and those who worshipped with Rome. This proposal, therefore, met with a
mixed reception. The latter protested against the neglect, while the
former, equally under the influence of abject fear, were loud in declaring
that the idolatry itself might cost them all their lives.

"The curse of heaven alight on the evil tongue that first uttered the
thought!" muttered the trembling Pippo between his teeth, too prudent to
fly openly in the face of so strong an opposition, and yet too credulous
not to feel the omission in every nerve--"Hast nothing by thee, pious
Conrad, that may avail a Christian?"

The pilgrim reached forth his hand with a rosary and cross. The sacred
emblem passed from mouth to mouth, among the believers, with a zeal little
short of that they had manifested in unloading the deck. Encouraged by
this sacrifice, they called loudly upon Baptiste to present himself.
Confronted with these unnurtured spirits, the patron shook in every limb,
for, between anger and abject fear, his self-command had by this time
absolutely deserted him. To the repeated appeals to procure a light, that
it might be placed before a picture of the mother of God which Conrad
produced, he objected his Protestant faith, the impossibility of
maintaining the flame while the bark pitched so violently, and the divided
opinions of the passengers. The Catholics bethought them of the country
and influence of Maso, and they loudly called upon him, for the love of
God! to come and enforce their requests. But the mariner was occupied on
the forecastle, lowering one anchor after another into the water,
passively assisted by the people of the bark, who wondered at a precaution
so useless, since no rope could reach the bottom, even while they did not
dare deny his orders. Something was now said of the curse that had
alighted on the vessel, in consequence of its patron's intention to embark
the headsman. Baptiste trembled to the skin of his crown, and his blood
crept with a superstitious awe.

"Dost think there can really be aught in this!" he asked, with parched
lips and a faltering tongue.

All distinction of faith was lost in the general ridicule. Now the
Westphalian was gone, there was not a man among them to doubt that a
navigation, so accompanied, would be cursed. Baptiste stammered, muttered
many incoherent sentences, and finally, in his impotency, he permitted the
dangerous secret to escape him.

The intelligence that Balthazar was among them produced a solemn and deep
silence. The fact, however, furnished as conclusive evidence of the cause
of their peril to the minds of these untutored beings, as a mathematician
could have received from the happiest of his demonstrations. New light
broke in upon them, and the ominous stillness was followed by a general
demand for the patron to point out the man. Obeying this order, partly
under the influence of a terror that was allied to his moral weakness, and
partly in bodily fear, he shoved the headsman forward, substituting the
person of the proscribed man for his own, and, profiting by the occasion,
he stole out of the crowd.

When the Herr M�ller, or as he was now known and called, Balthazar, was
rudely pushed into the hands of these ferocious agents of superstition,
the apparent magnitude of the discovery induced a general and breathless
pause. Like the treacherous calm that had so long reigned upon the lake,
it was a precursor of a fearful and violent explosion. Little was said,
for the occasion was too ominous for a display of vulgar feeling, but
Conrad, Pippo, and one or two more, silently raised the fancied offender
in their arms, and bore him desperately towards the side of the bark.

"Call on Maria, for the good of thy soul!" whispered the Neapolitan, with
a strange mixture of Christian zeal, in the midst of all his ferocity.

The sound of words like these usually conveys the idea of charity and
love, but, notwithstanding this gleam of hope, Balthazar still found
himself borne towards his fate.

On quitting the throng that clustered together in a dense body between the
masts, Baptiste encountered his old antagonist, Nicklaus Wagner. The fury
which had so long been pent in his breast suddenly found vent, and, in the
madness of the moment, he struck him. The stout Bernese grappled his
assailant, and the struggle became fierce as that of brutes. Scandalized
by such a spectacle, offended by the disrespect, and ignorant of what else
was passing near--for the crowd had uttered its resolutions in the
suppressed voices of men determined--the Baron de Willading and the Signor
Grimaldi advanced with dignity and firmness to prevent the shameful
strife. At this critical moment the voice of Balthazar was heard above the
roar of the coming wind, not calling on Maria, as he had been admonished,
but appealing to the two old nobles to save him. Sigismund sprang forward
like a lion, at the cry, but too late to reach those who were about to
cast the headsman from the gangway, he was just in time to catch the body,
by its garments, when actually sailing in the air. By a vast effort of
strength its direction was diverted. Instead of alighting in the water,
Balthazar encountered the angry combatants, who, driven back on the two
nobles, forced the whole four over the side of the bark into the water.

The struggle between the two bodies of air ceased, that on the surface of
the lake yielding to the avalanche from above, and the tempest came
howling upon the bark.



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