time to lose. Farina must be caught in the act of waiting
for Margarita, and by Gottlieb, or herself. Gottlieb was revelling. 'May
this be a warning to thee, Gottlieb,' murmured Lisbeth, as she hooded
her little body in Margarita's fur-cloak, and determined that she would
be the one to confound Farina.
Five minutes later Margarita returned. Aunt Lisbeth was gone. The dragon
still lacked a tip to his forked tongue, and a stream of fiery threads
dangled from the jaws of the monster. Another letter was brought into
the room by Lieschen.
'For Aunt Lisbeth,' said Margarita, reading the address. 'Who can it be
from?'
'She does not stand pressing about your letters,' said the woman; and
informed Margarita of the foregoing missive.
'You say she drew an arrow from it?' said Margarita, with burning face.
'Who brought this? tell me!' and just waiting to hear it was Farina's
mother, she tore the letter open, and read:
'DEAREST LISBETH!
'Thy old friend writes to thee; she that has scarce left eyes to see
the words she writes. Thou knowest we are a fallen house, through
the displeasure of the Emperor on my dead husband. My son, Farina,
is my only stay, and well returns to me the blessings I bestow upon
him. Some call him idle: some think him too wise. I swear to thee,
Lisbeth, he is only good. His hours are devoted to the extraction
of essences--to no black magic. Now he is in trouble-in prison.
The shadow that destroyed his dead father threatens him. Now, by
our old friendship, beloved Lisbeth! intercede with Gottlieb, that
he may plead for my son before the Emperor when he comes--'
Margarita read no more. She went to the window, and saw her guard
marshalled outside. She threw a kerchief over her head, and left the
house by the garden gate.
THE MONK
By this time the sun stood high over Cologne. The market-places were
crowded with buyers and sellers, mixed with a loitering swarm of
soldiery, for whose thirsty natures winestalls had been tumbled up.
Barons and knights of the empire, bravely mounted and thickly followed,
poured hourly into Cologne from South Germany and North. Here, staring
Suabians, and round-featured warriors of the East Kingdom, swaggered up
and down, patting what horses came across them, for lack of occupation
for their hands. Yonder, huge Pomeranians, with bosks of beard stiffened
out square from the chin, hurtled mountainous among the peaceable
inhabita
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