‘For the heart grows rich in giving, all its wealth is living grain; Seeds, which mildew in the garner, scattered, fill with gold the plain'
MRS. CHARLES.
IF that was indeed good fortune which had come to Chlum, it illustrated the saying that good, like evil fortune, does not come alone. His brothers had come to Prague on the same business as himself, and with the help of certain men of law a satisfactory arrangement of the family property was brought about. One of the estates which fell to Chlum he had no wish to keep, his possessions being quite large enough without it, and he was able to dispose of it in an advantageous manner. Thus relieved from pecuniary pressure, his first care was to pay his debts; and his next to provide a liberal store of everything his household needed or could wish for, from embroidered robes and silken cushions for the ladies, to fustian and dowlas for the boys of the kitchen.
A more important matter was to re-organize the household itself. One chaplain and confessor at least was indispensable; most of the barons had two—one for themselves, and the other for the ladies of their families. Chlum thought himself fortunate in finding a priest of excellent character named Stasek, who had been turned adrift by his former lord for giving the cup to some of his dependents. He did not need or desire any squire save Hubert, but two or three pages of gentle birth were a usual appendage to such a household as his. Henry of Leffle, who had been with him in Constance, wished him to take his son in this capacity, and he readily agreed. But he sought out the widow of a brother knight who had fallen in the Venetian war, and finding her, as he expected, poor and burdened with a numerous family, he took one of her sons also. He chose the third, a mere child of ten, and small and slight for his age, considering that he could easily find places for the two elder boys with some of the knights and barons then in the city.
According to our ideas, Luca z Leffle and Karel z Sandresky would have been companions for Václav and shared his sports and studies; but this was not the way of the fifteenth century. Knights took other people's sons, and ladies other people's daughters to educate, while, in compliance with the same custom, they sent their own to strangers. The worldly advancement of the young people seems to have been the thing most considered in these arrangements.
Judged by this standard, Vaclav was fortunate, or at least he might have been so. The man of most mark amongst the Hussites was undoubtedly the powerful lord of Hussenec̆. It speaks well for this proud baron that he was an ardent admirer and disciple of the Reformer, who had been one of his own villagers, and whom he may have known as a poor scholar, helped through college by the bounty of his father. Hussenec̆ had even journeyed to Constance, in the vain hope of saving the ' dear Master.' He was now in Prague, taking a leading part in all that was done there for the vindication of his memory; and he renewed to Chlum the offer he had made him in Constance, where he had been struck by Václav’s boyish grace and intelligence. They discussed the matter walking up and down under the colonnade of the Eisengasse, between the Rathhaus and the Carolinum, or University building. Chlum was attended by Hubert, and Hussenec̆ by his son, a splendid, proud-looking young knight attired in the height of the then prevailing fashion. He was not too proud, however, to drop modestly behind with Hubert, and to converse with him very amicably. He made special inquiries about Parma Oneshka, showing an interest in the daily life of that excellent lady which rather surprised Hubert. He supposed Hubert must be an authority on the subject, as he had such frequent occasions to go to her house. Was it not true that, although so devoted to Bethlehem Chapel, she and the ladies with her sometimes walked over to attend vespers at the Teyn Church, by way of taking the air?
Meanwhile Husseneč was assuring Chlum of his interest in Vaclav, and promising to fail in none of the duties of a father, if he would entrust him to his care. Chlum was certainly pleased; and, as he could now afford to equip his son suitably, he had no positive reason for declining. Still, he hesitated. He had two thoughts in his mind; one of which could, and the other could not, be avowed openly. How could he ask the Páni —frail and delicate as she was—to part with her boy again, now just restored to her after a year of absence? Moreover (this was the thought not avowed), he feared for his son the martial spirit of Hussenec̆, which would inevitably pervade his whole household. Hussenec̆ and his gallant son were foremost amongst those who talked of vengeance for the past and security for the future; and thought that for both they must look to their own good swords in their own brave hands. Chlum, on the contrary, had Master John's last counsel forever sounding in his ears, ' Serve God quietly at home.' Finally, he asked Hussenec̆ for time to consider the matter, and to take counsel with his lady. In any case, he thanked him heartily for the proposal, and would esteem any connection between their houses a great honor.
Hussenec̆ cast a backward glance at his son, who was just then favoring Hubert, in excited topes, with his opinion on the doings of the Council. ‘Yonder goes a lad,' said he, ‘who would not be averse to a connection of another kind, didst thou and I approve of it, Kepka.'
‘Your Paneč? What mean you, sir baron?’
‘That I can scarce say yet. But of what my Klaus means there is no such doubt. Never Mass or sermon will he miss at Bethlehem.'
‘I am glad to hear he is so piously disposed,' said Chlum innocently.
‘Most worthy friend, I fear your fair daughter has more to do with his piety than his confessor would care to know. Wild horses will not drag him from the Bethlehem Street, if there be but a chance of the young lady coming forth, or even showing her face at a window.'
‘My daughter!’ exclaimed Chlum. Then he relapsed into silence, wishing heartily that he had the Pani with him in Prague. At last he resumed, ‘But then she is only a child.'
‘She is a young lady of great beauty and distinction; and I think that boy of mine hath good eyesight and better taste.’
‘Still, as you say, she is young. So is he; and quick in love and hate, hot of head, and perhaps too ready of hand. Let the matter stand over, if thou wilt, for future consideration. But I hope such consideration would not be unpleasing to thee, or to the Pani herself? '
‘It could not, to either of us, be other than an honor,' said Chlum in reply; and the subject dropped.
Chlum was not sorry when at last his business in Prague came to an end. Prague was a bewildering place, where strange things were liable to happen; where a man might be asked at a moment's notice to speak his mind upon anything in heaven or on earth, from Purgatory and the Invocation of Saints to possible suitors for his daughter's hand. It was a very real trouble to him also, that he found himself unexpectedly popular, and the subject of a good deal of attention. The knights and barons of Bohemia and the magnates of the University could not but do honor to the man who had stood so loyally by their hero and their martyr. To Chlum this was not only surprising, but absolutely painful. Why should such honor come to him only because he had not been a false knight and a faithless friend?
His party was now augmented by little Karel Sandresky, who looked very pretty in his new page's dress, and was much petted by Zedenka. Lucas Leffle was to be sent afterward to Pihel by his father. But Chlum was destined to receive another addition to his household, and an unexpected one. The day before his departure he wished to visit a friend in the Kleinseite. As he came forth from his lodgings—the house of Wenzel the cupmaker in the Grosser Ring—a wild-looking boy in a gray serge frock sprang forward, and, thrusting Hubert aside, seized the stirrup of his horse and held it for him ostentatiously.
Chlum mounted, and threw him a groschen.
The boy picked it up, but tried to give it back to him. ‘I do not want your silver,' he said. ‘I am as good as you, sir knight.'
Chlum thought he meant that he was as good in the sight of God—for the religious earnestness of the time had reached even the street boys of Prague. ‘It may well be thou art a better Christian than I,' he said.
‘Yet a good silver groschen would do no harm, even to a saint.'
‘I am neither saint nor beggar, and yet I crave a boon of you, sir knight.' The boy pressed closer, and looked up in his face, his dark eyes lit with a burning eagerness. ‘Let me serve you. I will work—fight— die for you, if you will but give me the chance. Only let me serve you! '
‘Poor boy! what should I do with thee? Yet stay—if indeed thou wouldest eat honest bread of thine own earning, perchance I can help thee to a service with someone.'
The boy shook his head decisively, throwing back his shaggy jet-black locks. ‘I serve no man but thee, Kepka,' he said.
Chlum was amused, perhaps even a little flattered by his persistence. ‘What couldest thou do for me?’ he asked.
‘Sir knight, I am noble as you are, and it were my birthright to serve you at the board, and in the field, as noble pages use. But take me—only take me, and I swear by every saint in heaven I will serve you as scullion, kitchen varlet, turnspit even—anything you will, and never say you nay! '
‘In God's name, who art thou?’ asked Chlum, much surprised.
The boy raised himself on tiptoe, to get as near to Chlum as he could, and whispered one word—'Ostrodek.'
Chlum repeated it aloud, not on the instant remembering the name or the story; upon which Hubert, who had been listening with much interest, struck in with a few rapid words in German.
Chlum turned to the boy. ‘Thou couldest scarce remember thy father,' he said. ‘Where hast thou passed the years since his death? '
‘I remember my father well, sir knight. I was past seven years old then. Afterward my mother brought me to the Monastery of the Holy Cross there on the hill, and bade them take me and make a monk of me, that so with me our race might come to an end.'
‘I trow, sir knight, that as he grew he showed the monks he had too high a stomach to brook that,' Hubert threw in, touched by the similarity of the boy's lot to his own.
But Chlum answered him in German: 'A boy may be too good to make a monk of—or too bad,' and turned again to the boy. ‘Why didst thou not stay there, and do as thy mother bade? '
The dark eyes flashed, as visibly as the flint when the steel strikes it. ‘Because they used me like a dog,' he said. ‘I hate them! '
‘Prithee wherefore? What didst thou to anger them? What I will do again, if I have the ill-fortune to be caught and dragged back to their dungeon. Curse them!’
‘Hush, boy; those are wicked words.'
‘I warrant me you would say worse words yourself, Kepka, if they told you the man who saved your father's soul was burning in hell-fire, and then starved and beat you for telling them they lied.'
‘What do you mean?’ asked Chlum with awakened interest.
The boy turned half away, and kicked a stone which lay at his feet. He looked at Hubert, then at Chlum again. ‘I don't know what that fine young gentleman said to you just now in German,' he said. ‘But I take it for pretty certain he told you my father was hanged. For I think the very stones at my feet cry it out, and the walls and the houses—the trees even, if I go forth into the field. But then, he made a good end! Everyone says that; the monks say it themselves. I trove that by this time his soul has gone up to heaven; and he has been received by Messire God, and by our Lord, and by our Lady, as an honorable knight, purged from all stain of sin. What sort of a son would I be to him—and I am his son!—if I brooked to hear ill words spoken of the man that saved him? '
For the first time Chlum's hand touched the boy—rested on his shoulder. ‘What didst thou?’ he asked, more gently than he had spoken before.
‘Called them a pack of liars. Then they misused me—to cast out the devil, as they said. I ran away, and here I am.'
‘Why didst thou come to me? '
‘Because, sir knight, I heard them say you were his friend, And as bad as he almost, craving your pardon. The sub-prior said the Council would have done right well to burn you too.' Chlum felt the trembling joy of some unknown poet who hears it said that he might have rivaled Shakespeare. Truly he
‘Had not sought in battle
A wreath of such renown.'
‘I was not worthy,' he said, with a smile.
‘Sir knight, you will take me with you?’ the boy pleaded, his wild eyes softening, and his hands clasped in piteous entreaty. ‘I will serve you so faithfully! And oh! if ever you fight to avenge him-just give me a sword; ' and the fierce look came back again.
‘I shall never fight to avenge him. My poor boy, I cannot bid thee from me, though I know not well how to order thee. Go in there to my lodging; ' he pointed to the door of Wenzel's house. ‘My men will care for thee till my return. Ask for Clodek, and say I sent thee. Hubert, we must away. Time presses; and it is ill done to keep our horses standing so long. Well, peradventure, that we have not Rabstein,' he added with a sigh. ‘He would scarce have borne it so patiently.'
He was very silent during the ride, but when they were nearly at home again he bade Hubert turn towards the Neustadt. ‘To the house of Leffle,' he said; ‘I must see him again. He may take it ill if his boy is put to serve with this young Ostrodek. If he should, I must give Lucaz up, though I should be sorry.'
‘Lucaz' father wished you to have him, sir knight,' said Hubert. ‘Pity 'twere to disappoint him.'
‘The father of the fatherless wished me to have the other—and His will comes first. Poor child, there must be good in him when he had the grace and the courage to stand up for Master John against them all. Mark me, Hubert, when he comes to Pihel he shall fare exactly like the rest; and should anyone be malapert enough even to hint at a gallows in his hearing, thou shalt not spare the rod. As he truly says, he is of noble birth.'
‘Ay is he, sir knight. The fire of it is in his eye and on his cheek. I trow he will need good guidance.'
‘And I trow he will have it. What with thee and Master Stasek, and a soft word or a kind look now and then from my lady, who knows her way to all hearts, God bless her! '
‘They left Prague the next day, on a dull October morning, with the east wind blowing withered leaves across their path. This did not hinder a party of their friends riding with them for the first stage of their journey to show them honor, and also for their good company.'
Conspicuous amongst these was the Panec̆ of Hussenec̆. As he rode beside the palfrey of Parma Zedenka, Hubert thought it was no wonder his own sober, and, as she accounted them, timid counsels failed to find favor in her eyes. The young knight's fiery talk was all of Bohemia's ancient glories, from the days of Queen Libussa down to those of the great Kaiser Karl; of her unconquered chivalry, her battles and her victories, of her ancient rights and liberties, and the giving of the cup. To Hubert it had been the cup of Christ, taken from His hand, with deepest humility and gratitude. To young Hussenec̆ it was rather the cup of the people, claimed by them as a right, as something sacred indeed, but at the same time pre-eminently national and Bohemian. To the one it was a pledge to die for as martyr; to the other, a symbol to fight for as a soldier.