 CHAPTER XVIII of Anne of Geyerstein by Sir Walter Scott. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Dion Giants, Salt Lake City, Utah. Upon the Rhine, upon the Rhine they cluster the grapes of juice divine, which make the soldier's jovial courage muster, O, blessed be the Rhine! DRINKING SONG A cottage or two on the side of the river, beside which were moored one or two fishing boats, showed the pious haunts had successors in his profession as a boatman. The river, which at a point a little lower was restrained by a chain of islets, expanded more widely and moved less rapidly than when it passed these cottages, affording to the ferrymen a smoother surface and a less heavy stream to contend with, although the current was even there too strong to be borne up against, unless the river was in a tranquil state. On the opposite bank, but a good deal lower than the hamlet which gave name to the ferry, was seated on a small eminence, screened by trees and bushes, the little town of Kirchhoff. A skiff departing from the left bank was, even on favorable occasions, carried considerably to leeward ere it could attain the opposite side of the deep and full stream of the Rhine, so that its course was oblique towards Kirchhoff. On the other hand, a boat departing from Kirchhoff must have great advantage both of wind and oars in order to land its loading or crew at the chapel of the ferry, unless it were under the miraculous influence which carried the image of the Virgin in that direction. The communication, therefore, from the east to the west bank was only maintained by towing boats up the stream to such a height on the eastern side that the leeway which they made during the voyage across might correspond with the point at which they desired to arrive and enable them to attain it with ease. Hence it naturally happened that the passage from Alsace into Swabia being the most easy, the ferry was more used by those who were desirous of entering Germany than by travelers who came in an opposite direction. When the elder Philipsen had by a glance around him ascertained the situation of the ferry, he said firmly to his son, Begone, my dear Arthur, and do what I have commanded thee. With a heart rent with filial anxiety, the young man obeyed and took his solitary course towards the cottages near which the barks were moored which were occasionally used for fishing as well as for the purposes of the ferry. Our son leaves us, said Bartholomew to the elder Philipsen. He does for the present, said his father, as he has certain inquiries to make in Yonder Hamlet. If they be, answered the guide, any matters connected with your honor's road, I laud the saints that I can better answer your inquiries than those ignorant boars who hardly understand your language. If we find that their information needs thy commentary, said Philipsen, we will request it. Meanwhile, lead on to the chapel where my son will join us. They moved towards the chapel, but with slow steps, each turning his looks aside to the fishing hamlet, the guide, as if striving to see whether the younger traveler was returning towards them. The father anxious to describe, on the broad bosom of the Rhine, a sail unloosed, to waft his son across, to that which might be considered as the safer side. But though the looks of both guide and traveler were turned in the direction of the river, their steps carried them towards the chapel, to which the inhabitants, in memory of the founder, had given the title of Hans Capel. A few trees scattered around gave an agreeable and silven air to the place, and the chapel that appeared on a rising ground at some distance from the hamlet was constructed in a style of pleasing simplicity, which corresponded with the whole scene. This small size confirmed the tradition that it had originally been merely the hut of a peasant, and the cross of fir trees covered with bark attested the purpose to which it was now dedicated. The chapel and all around it breathed peace and solemn tranquility, and the deep sound of the mighty river seemed to impose silence on each human voice which might presume to mingle with its awful murmur. When Philip's son arrived in the vicinity, Bartholomew took the advantage afforded by his silence to thunder forth two stanzas, to the praise of the lady of the ferry, and her faithful worshipper Hans, after which he broke forth into the rapturous exclamation, Come hither ye who fear reg, here is your safe haven. Come hither ye who die of thirst, here is a well of mercy open to you. Come those who are weary and far traveled, this is your place of refreshment. And more to the same purpose he might have said that Philip's son sternly imposed silence on him. If thy devotion were altogether true, he said it would be less clamorous, but it is well to do what is good in itself, even if it is a hypocrite who recommends it. Let us enter this holy chapel and pray for a fortunate issue to our precarious troubles. The partener caught up the last words. Sure was I, he said that your worship is too well advised to pass this holy place without imploring the protection and influence of our lady of the ferry. Teary but a moment until I find the priest who serves the altar, that he may say amass on your behalf. Where he was interrupted by the door of the chapel suddenly opening, when an ecclesiastic appeared on the threshold, Philip's son instantly knew the priest of St. Paul's whom he had seen that morning at Laforette. Bartholomew also knew him, as it would seem, for his officious, hypocritical eloquence failed him in an instant, and he stood before the priest with his arms folded on his breast, like a man who waits for the sentence of condemnation. Villain said the ecclesiastic, regarding the guide with a severe countenance, dust thou lead a stranger into the houses of the holy saints, that thou mayest slay him, and possess thyself of his spoils, that heaven will no longer bear with thy perfidity. Back thou wretch, to meet thy brother miscreants, who are hastening hitherward, tell them thy arts were unavailing, and that the innocent stranger is under my protection, under my protection, which those who presume to violate will meet with the reward of Archibald de Hagenbach. The guide stood quite motionless, while addressed by the priest in a manner equally menacing and authoritative, and no sooner did the latter see speaking than, without offering a word either in justification or reply, Bartholomew turned round and retreated at a hasty pace by the same road which had conducted the traveler to the chapel. And do you, were the Englishmen, continued the priest, enter into this chapel, and perform in safety those devotions by means of which Yonder Hippocrate, designed to detain you until his brethren in iniquity came up. But first, wherefore are you alone? I trust not evil hath befallen your young companion. My son, said Phillipson, crosses the Rhine at Yonderferry as we had important business to transact on the other side. As he spoke thus, a light boat about which two or three peasants had been for some time busy, was seen to push from the shore and shoot into the stream, to which it was partly compelled to give way, until a sail stretched along the slender yard, and supporting the Barth against the current, enabled her to stand obliquely across the river. Now, praise be to God, said Phillipson, who was aware that the Barth he looked upon must be in the act of carrying his son beyond the reach of the dangers by which he was himself surrounded. Amen, answered the priest, echoing the pious ejaculation of the traveller, great reason have you to return thanks to heaven. Of that I am convinced, replied Phillipson, that yet from you I hope to learn the special cause of danger from which I have escaped. This is neither time nor place for such an investigation, answered the priest of St. Paul's. It is enough to say that Yonder Fellow, well-known for his hypocrisy and his crimes, was present when the young Switzer Sigismund reclaimed from the executioner the treasure of which you were robbed by Hagenbach. Thus Bartholomew's avarice was awakened. He undertook to be your guide to Strasbourg with the criminal intent of detaining you, by the way, till a party came up against whose numbers resistance would have been in vain, but his purpose has been anticipated, and now air giving vent to other worldly thoughts, whether of hope or fear, to the chapel, sir, and join in orisons to him who hath been your aid, and to those who hath interceded with him in your behalf. Then entered the chapel with his guide and joined in returning thanks to heaven and the tutelary power of the spot for the escape which had been vouchsafed to him. When his duty had been performed, Philipson intimated his purpose of resuming his journey to which the black priest replied that far from delaying him in a place so dangerous he would himself accompany him for some part of the journey since he was also bound to the presence of the Duke of Burgundy. You, my father, you, said the merchant with some astonishment, and wherefore surprised, answered the priest, is it so strange that one of my order should visit a prince's court? Believe me, there are but too many of them to be found there. I do not speak with reference to your order, answered Philipson, but in regard of the part which you have this day acted in abetting the execution of Archibald the Harembach, know you so little of the fiery Duke of Burgundy as to imagine you can dally with his resentment with more safety than you would pull the mane of a sleeping lion. I know his mood well, said the priest, and it is not to excuse but to defend the death of the Harembach that I go to his presence. The Duke may execute his serfs and bondsmen at his pleasure, but there is a spell upon my life which is proof to all his power. But let me retort the question. You, sir Englishman, knowing the conditions of the Duke so well, you, so lately the guest and traveling companion of the most unwelcome visitors who could approach him, you, implicated in appearance at least, in the uproar at Laforette, what chance is there of your escaping his vengeance, and wherefore will you throw yourself wantonly within his power? Were they father, said the merchant, let each of us, without offence to the other, keep his own secret? I have indeed no spell to secure me from the Duke's resentment. I have limbs to suffer torture and imprisonment, and property which may be seized and confiscated, but I have had in former days many dealings with the Duke. I may even say I have laid him under obligations, and hope my interest with him may, in consequence, be sufficient not only to save me from the consequences of this day's procedure, but be of some avail to my friend, the landman. But if you are in reality bound to the court of Burgundy as a merchant, said the priest, where are the wares in which you traffic? Have you no merchandise? Save that which you carry on your person. I heard of a Sumter horse with baggage. Has Yonder villain deprived you of it? This was a trying question to Philipson, who, anxious about the separation from his son, had given no direction, whether the baggage should remain with himself, or should be transported to the other side of the Rhine. He was, therefore, taken at advantage by the priest's inquiry, to which he answered with some incoherence. I believe my baggage is in the Hamlet, that is, unless my son has taken it across the Rhine with him. That we will soon learn, answered the priest. Here a novice appeared from the vestiary of the chapel at his call, and received commands to inquire at the Hamlet, whether Philipson's bails, with the horse which transported them, had been left there, or ferried over along with his son. The novice, being absent a few minutes, presently returned with the baggage horse, which with its burden, Arthur, from regard to his father's accommodation, had left on the western side of the river. The priest looked on attentively, while the elder Philipson, mounting his own horse, and taking the reign of the other in his hand, bade the black priest adieu in these words, and now, Father farewell, I must pass on with my bails, since there is little wisdom in traveling with them after nightfall, else would I gladly suit my pace with your permission so as to share the way with you. If it is your obliging purpose to do so, as indeed I was about to propose, said the priest, know I will be no stay to your journey. I have here a good horse, and Melchior, who must otherwise have gone on foot, may ride upon your Sumter horse. I, the rather, propose this course as it will be rash for you to travel by night. I can conduct you to an hostelry about five miles off, which we may reach with sufficient daylight, and where you will be lodged safely for your reckoning. The English merchant hesitated a moment. He had no fancy for any new companion on the road, and although the countenance of the priest was rather handsome considering his years, yet the expression was such as by no means invited confidence. On the contrary, there was something mysterious and gloomy which clouded his brow, though it was a lofty one, and a similar expression gleamed in his cold gray eye and intimated severity and even harshness of disposition. But notwithstanding this repulsive circumstance, the priest had lately rendered Philipson a considerable service by detecting the treachery of his hypocritical guide, and the merchant was not a man to be startled from his course by any imaginary prepossessions against the looks or manners of anyone or apprehensions of machinations against himself. He only revolved in his mind the singularity attending his destiny, which, while it was necessary for him to appear before the Duke of Burgundy in the most conciliatory manner, seemed to force upon him the adoption of companions who must be obnoxious to that prince, and such he was too well aware, must be the case with the priest of St. Paul's. Having reflected for an instant, he courteously accepted the offer of the priest to guide him to some place of rest and entertainment, which must be absolutely necessary for his horse before he reached Strasburg, even if he himself could have dispensed with it. The party being thus arranged, the novice brought forth the priest's steed, which he mounted with grace and agility, and the neophyte being probably the same whom Arthur had represented during his escape from Laforet took charge at his master's command of the baggage horse of the Englishman, and crossing himself with a humble inclination of his head as the priest passed him, he fell into the rear and seemed to pass the time, like the false brother Bartholomew, in telling his beads with an earnestness which had perhaps more of affected than of real piety. The black priest of St. Paul's, to judge by the glance which he cast upon his novice, seemed to disdain the formality of the young man's devotion. He rode upon a strong black horse, more like a warrior's charger than the ambling pulfry of a priest, and the manner in which he managed him was entirely devoid of awkwardness and timidity. His pride, whatever was its character, was not certainly of a kind altogether professional, but had its origin in other swelling thoughts which arose in his mind to mingle with and enhance the self-consequence of a powerful ecclesiastic. As Philipson looked on his companion from time to time, his scrutinizing glance was returned by a haughty smile which seemed to say, You may gaze on my form and features, but you cannot penetrate my mystery. The looks of Philipson, which were never known to sink before mortal man, seemed to retort with equal haughtiness, nor shall you, proud priest, know that you are now in company, with one whose secret is far more important than thine own can be. At length the priest made some advance towards conversation by allusion to the footing upon which, by a mutual understanding, they seemed to have placed their intercourse. We travel then, he said, like two powerful enchanters, each conscious of his own high and secret purpose, each in his own chariot of clouds, and neither imparting to his companion the direction or purpose of his journey. Excuse me, Father, answered Philipson. I have neither asked your purpose, nor concealed my own, so far as it concerns you. I repeat, I am bound to the presence of the Duke of Burgundy, and my object, like that of any other merchant, is to dispose of my wares to advantage. Doubtless it would seem so, said the black priest, from the extreme attention to your merchandise, which you showed not above half an hour since, when you knew not, whether your bales had crossed the river with your son, or were remaining in your own charge. Are English merchants usually so indifferent to the sources of their traffic? When their lives are in danger, said Philipson, they are sometimes negligent of their fortune. It is well, replied the priest, and again resumed his solitary musings, until another half-hour's traveling brought them to a dwarf or village which the black priest informed Philipson was that where he proposed to stop for the night. The novice, he said, will show you the inn, which is of good reputation, and where you may lodge with safety. For me, I have to visit a penitent in this village who desires my ghostly offices. Perhaps I may see you again this evening. Perhaps not, till the next morning, at any rate, a dew for the present. So saying, the priest stopped his horse, while the novice, coming close up to Philipson's side, conducted him onward through the narrow street of the village, whilst the windows exhibited here and there a twinkling gleam, announcing that the hour of darkness was arrived. Finally, he led the Englishman through an archway into a sort of courtyard where there stood a car or two of a particular shape used occasionally by women when they travel, and some other vehicles of the same kind. Here the young man threw himself from the sumpter horse, and placing the rain in Philipson's hand, disappeared in the increasing darkness after pointing to a large, but dilapidated building, along the front of which not a spark of light was to be discovered from any of the narrow and numerous windows which were dimly visible in the twilight.