Читать книгу The Year Nine: A Tale of the Tyrol - Anne Manning - Страница 8

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SUNDAY afternoon presented a busy scene at the wirth-haus. Groups of gaily-dressed peasants were standing about, many talking fast and eagerly, others quietly, and a little apart. Here stood a woman in an extinguisher-shaped black worsted cap, with her massive arms akimbo, talking to another apparently strong enough to build a house, who wore a globular cap of fur; while, between them, stood a third in a grass-green gown, very short-waisted, and with three rows of red binding round the skirt, her head covered by a gaudy handkerchief, tied under the chin. They looked worthy compatriots of the women of the Vorarlberg, who, during the Thirty Years' War, drove a Swedish division out of the Lechthal, and killed them to a man. There was more of the lioness that might be roused to defend her cubs, in them, however, than of the poissarde; they had hard hands, strong arms, kind hearts, and firm wills.

The young girls, who were mostly sunburnt, and pleasant-looking rather than pretty, had bestowed considerable attention on their hair, which was braided in long shining tails, tied with gay ribands, and surmounted in some cases by jaunty little straw hats, rather bigger than daisies, and wreathed with primroses, blue hyacinths, and anemones. Among the young men and lads, red sashes, green jackets, and blue stockings were rife; each had his tall, conical hat with gold cord and tassels, flower, or feather; his rifle, plated buckles, and flower in his button-hole. They did not seem to have much to say to the young girls, for flirtation is very little countenanced in the Tyrol.

The target was set up at a distance of two hundred and fifty paces. There were the benches, the beer-tables, and the long board on tressels, covered with balls, powder-flasks, and everything likely to be wanted for the sport. The rifles that were to do such goodly service were heavy and clumsy, with triggers so delicate as almost to be set off by a gust of wind. Theresa actively assisted her mother in waiting on the company. Johann sidled up to little Anderl Speckbacher and got him off to a bank, where they could watch the shooting, their arms round each other's necks. The two little girls held their mother's apron as long as they could, and finally found themselves some juvenile companions.

Franz was very smart; but, somehow, his clothes always looked as if they had been made for somebody else; and were worn with a slouching air, as if he felt too fine for his company. On the other hand, Rudolf's glossy suit of green velveteen fitted without a crease, and he did not seem to think either of himself or his dress, but to have alert, disengaged attention for whatever was going on.

Talking to Hofer and Speckbacher was a man of thirty, with piercing blue eyes, a bold but not prepossessing countenance, indicative of great sharpness, and stooping a little, neither like a mountaineer nor a soldier, though he had been a militia captain and major. This was Martin Teimer, who had come from Clagenfurt to talk over the rising with his compatriots. He had been appointed by General Chastelar, chief of the peasants of the Upper Innthal, and seemed rather inclined, his two companions thought, to plume himself on it. These three men had an eye to everything that was going on around them; and now and then separated and mingled among the groups, speaking to men here and there, till, in time, they had had a short private colloquy with every man on the ground; returning to each other from time to time, and comparing notes.

Meanwhile, the rifles were in full action: now circle one, now circle two was hit, now the bull's eye; and even without looking round, it was easy to tell by the cheerful, the triumphant, or the moderated acclamations, what had been the rifleman's success.

Speckbacher, returning from one of these progresses, observed to Hofer, "I don't much like that youth, Franz Raffel; he is shallow, vain-glorious, and given to talk. He would be better among the châlets."

"Thither he shall go, if we can get him," said Hofer; "but he is somewhat slippery to get hold of; half his time, he is skulking about, smuggling brandy across the frontier; and as we want a good store of it just now, I at present make him useful."

"Rudolf is worth a score of him," said Speckbacher; "and I think your pretty Theresa thinks so too. I would not discourage that youngster, Anderl, even if Martin Teimer were to come forward—"

"Of a surety, no," said Hofer, quietly. "The lad is a good lad. We shall see what stuff he is made of this summer; and, if he quits himself well, he shall have Theresa at the end of it. You and I were little more than two-and-twenty when we took our brides to church; and Theresa is already nearly as old as her mother was. But we have other matters in hand just now. I see one or two together whom I want to speak to, only Franz is within earshot of them. Do you draw him off."

Speckbacher immediately went up to him, and asked whether he could let him have some brandy; and Hofer joined a couple of elderly men, who were just sitting down side by side on a bench under a tree.

"There hasn't been such a match as this a good while," one was saying; "but, dear me, what matches we used to have when I was a lad! I'm not more than fifteen or twenty years older than that marksman who is taking aim now, but I don't believe he'll hit the white. Crack! Well, they're making a piece of work about it—I suppose he's hit the bull's eye."

"Here comes one that can do more than that," said the other. "Anderl! you have not shot, to-day."

"Boys' play," said Hofer with indifference.

"But you could show them what a man can do."

"Brag, neighbours? No good of brag. Besides, these lads shoot well, many of them. There was some good shooting before you came."

"People always say that of everything," said the other. "I've no spirit for these things now."

"Ah, things will befall shortly, that will put you in spirits."

"What mean you, Sandwirth? Is anything going to happen?"

Hofer nodded.

The two men put their heads close to his, and looked eager.

"We shall rise, soon."

"Rise? What, the Tyrol?"

Another nod.

"Under whom?"

"Nobody in particular. All of us under God."

They lifted up their hands and eyes.

"But is it certain? How do you know?"

"Of some one that knows. Quite certain."

"Himmel!—Did you get us together to-day to tell us this?"

"Yes."

"'Tis time!" cried one of the men in an impassioned under-tone. "Why should we be turned over from one master to another like a flock of sheep? How did the King of Bavaria guarantee our ancient rights and usages? With a piece of sheepskin. None of his promises have been kept: our representative States have been suppressed, our public funds seized, our Church property confiscated; and, as though this were not enough, taxes have been imposed upon us. The Emperor is afraid of France; but are we?"

"Not one of us, as we shall presently show them," said Hofer. "Buonaparte is already in the field against our Emperor, but we shall be quickly down upon him. Communications have been opened with the Archduke John, who is immediately going to effect a powerful diversion. Troops are about to march to our assistance."

"Why, neighbour, if you were to speak this out, every Tyrolese would rise directly!"

"True; but the moment, though close at hand, is not quite come. In a day or two, perhaps, you will receive a little billet inscribed ''Tis time'—the whole country will be up directly!"

"Come, I'll try my hand at the rifle this moment!" cried the old man, throwing aside his stick, and hastening towards the crowd. He was known and respected—they made way for him.

"Old Spickbart is going to try a shot!" cried Franz to Rudolf—"What sport! I'll bet you a quart of brandy he don't hit the target at all!"

The good man's hand shook so that his ball only hit the outer circle.

"I'll try again," said he.

"Yes, do," said the Sandwirth kindly; and looking round him as he spoke. There was not a smile, except on the face of Franz.

"You and I used often to shoot together," said Hofer. "Now then. Don't be in a hurry."

This time Spickbart hit the bull's eye. He was much applauded, and looked greatly elated.

"Ah, I thought I could!" said he, wagging his head. "The fault was only in my hand; not in my eye.—Now, you, Hofer."

"No, no," said Hofer.

"Oh yes, Sandwirth! Please, Sandwirth!" cried many voices.

"You silly boys," said he, looking about for his own rifle; "what do you want me to play with you for?"

A feather from some hat lay at his feet. He picked it up and gave it to Rudolf.

"There, go and hold it up fifty paces beyond the target."

"Rather you than me," said Franz with a shrug, as Rudolf walked off.

"I'm not a bit afraid," said Rudolf.

He had no need to be. Crack went the rifle; puff went the feather. There it lay, in two little fragments; Rudolf's finger and thumb unhurt.

"Well—that was the coolest thing!" ejaculated Franz, as the hills rang with acclamations.

"Yes, he's cool enough, that lad; without any brag," said Hofer, quietly putting down his piece.

"Franz was not thinking of him," said Speckbacher, grasping his friend's hand.

"I was," said Hofer softly. "I've tested the boy."

Speckbacher gave him a quick look.

"He stood fire well."

"Yes, and expects no notice taken of it. Did it never occur to you that William Tell's little son was as brave as William Tell?"

"Never till this minute! Do you hear that, Anderl?"

Speckbacher's little son pressed his hand, and then stroked it, looking up in his father's face.

"I should not have minded having the apple set on my head for you to shoot at, father."

"Would not you, my little boy?" And Speckbacher's brown hand fondly stroked the boy's brown curls.

The sun was now nearly set. Hofer, as the best shot, was carried round the ground, with flags, songs, and garlands; and another target added as a trophy to those on his already honoured walls. He and Speckbacher had pretty well ascertained whom they could depend on; a few more earnest words spoken, and they were all on their way to their homes.

Hofer re-entered the house, with his hand on Rudolf's shoulder.

"Here's a young fellow, now," said he cheerfully to his wife, "who had faith that I would not blow his right hand to pieces, and disable him for life, just out of brag."

"Of course you would not, Sandwirth," said Rudolf. "What good would it have done you?"

"Ah, my boy, I might have attempted something I could not achieve!"

"You? No! you'll never do that."

"Well, I hope not. How well everything has gone off to-day! I am so glad Spickbart hit the bull's eye."

"I am so glad you hit the feather," said his wife.

"Oh, there was nothing in that. Poor Spickbart is getting in years, and a little shaky; but there's a man's true spirit in him yet."

"What a bustle and noise there has been; I'm glad it's over."

"So am I, Anna. But it has been a very important meeting."

"A few of the girls wanted to get up a dance; but I knew that would never do."

"You were quite right. Let us dance when the day is won, not before."

"Art weary, man?"

"A little, dear. Open a fresh bottle of beer."

She did, and sat down close opposite to him, looking at him affectionately with her large brown eyes.

Rudolf and Theresa were talking in low, lover-like tones, at the door, under covert of the balustraded gallery. The young ones were at play.

Franz presently lounged in.

"I'm going now, Sandwirth," said he, approaching Hofer, whose hand was locked in his wife's. "Any commands?"

"Only about the brandy."

"Oh, yes, we talked that over before. You shall have it."

"What impression has this day made on you, Franz?"

"Well—it's been very hot, for the time of year."

"I was not thinking of the weather. Have you had a pleasant afternoon's sport?"

"Well, no—there was too much business mixed up with it. Sport is one thing, and business another. Besides, I only hit the bull's eye twice, and Rudolf hit it five times; whereas, the last time, you know—"

"Yes, I remember."

"So that, altogether, you see—No, it was a poor match, I call it. Sport's sport, and business is business; isn't it, Sandwirth?"

"I can't gainsay that. Well, Franz, I'm afraid you don't look forward with much pleasure to a busy campaign this summer."

"I hope to do my duty as well as other people," said Franz, looking down. "What must be done, must. Of course, we shall none of us like it."

"Do you call that speaking like a bold, hearty young man? Why, you ought to rouse up at the sound of the war trump!"

"Oh, yes, of course; so I do."—yawning.

"Thou'rt sleepy, lad," said Anna, rather contemptuously.

"No, I'm quite awake," said Franz.

"Now," said the Sandwirth, "there will be plenty of different kinds of work to do this summer; so that all people's tastes may be suited. There will be plenty of fighting; those who are active and stirring, and fond of their country, will like that. There will be plenty of message-carrying from one post to another; this will be attended with occasional risk, and will require much activity and dexterity, and will be equally honourable and useful with the other. There will be plenty of hard labour, felling trees, rolling stones, making barricades, carrying ammunition up precipitous heights; this will be as useful as the others: plenty of night-watching; this will be fatiguing rather than dangerous, and as useful as the others. Then, while so many are away from their herds and their flocks, some will be absolutely needed to look after the stock; and these will be as useful as the others. Which of all these various posts will best suit your fancy?"

"Well, that requires consideration," said Franz, pulling a wooden stool to the table, and sitting down opposite to Hofer. "Let me see. First, there's fighting. You know, Sandwirth, that I've dealt so long in foreign brandy, that I know a little what danger is—"

"Of course; and therefore—"

"And therefore, if I don't choose fighting, people can't say I'm afraid. Can they, now?"

"Whether they can or no, is little to the purpose."

"Just so. Well, then; as to the message-carrying; that, as you say, is useful, but dangerous; to which I may add vexatious."

"I don't know why it need be."

"Don't you? Why, I look upon it as one of the most plaguy, uninteresting, abasing employments a fellow can undertake; and without getting any credit by it."

"Let it pass, then. There are plenty whom it will suit very well."

"Oh yes! Well, then, let me see. What comes next? Oh, manual labour. Felling trees, and so forth. Do you know, Sandwirth, my mother asked me, last Christmas, to chop up a billet of wood for the fire, and I hit myself such a blow on the left hand with the axe,—here, just at the fleshy part of the thumb,—that I carry the mark of it, as you may see, to this day. And my mother said it might have brought on lock-jaw!"

"Did she, though?"

"Death in three days," said Franz solemnly. "These handicraft jobs, you see, require practice. They amount almost to trades. Now, a trade requires an apprenticeship; and I've never had one to a woodcutter: so that, altogether, I might do myself more hurt than anybody else."

"Many people do."

"That's considered then. Well, what comes next? Night-watching. Oh, yes, I would not at all mind taking my turn at that, though I'm a dreadful one for falling asleep."

"A sleepy sentinel would not be of much use."

"No; only everybody must sleep sometimes; and they that work hardest sleep soundest."

"Just so."

"As for carrying provisions up the hills, little chaps like your Johann are equal to that, I think."

"I should hope so."

"—Which they are not with regard to looking after stock. That's a man's business. As you said, it's just as useful and honourable as the others—"

"I said useful, though not honourable,—"

"No, you didn't say it, you know—I knew what you meant. And it isn't every one that understands stock, or would be for taking the trouble of it."

"No, indeed! You're quite right there."

"So that, as I do understand it, and don't mind the trouble of it,—why, to oblige you, I'll undertake it."

"Thank you heartily, Franz! You will indeed oblige me very much!"

"Come, that's cordial!" said Franz, as Hofer held out his hand to him. "I'm quite glad I've decided as I have."

"So am I. I hoped you would get round to it, but did not know how to propose it."

"Oh, I'll do it; and do it well. Bless you! you mightn't have had a head of cattle left!"

"And then where should we be?"

"There's no knowing," said Franz, with a sapient shake of the head. "Well, good night."

The voices at the door had been perfectly silent during this dialogue; and Hofer had once or twice heard a stifled laugh.

Franz, however, pre-occupied, and quite self-satisfied with what he considered a masterly piece of tactics, walked off.

"What a deal of trouble that young fellow has saved me, to be sure!" muttered Hofer. Then, raising his voice, "Now, then, dear children, come in and sing the vesper hymn."