he knocked pretty smartly. He was answered as loudly, “Who is there?” from the other side. Our hero begged somewhat impatiently for admission, and he would explain afterwards; but he was compelled to wait the pleasure of Sir Eberhard, until the butler had ascertained whether he chose to give a night’s lodging, for the satisfaction he would have in beating his guest in the morning.
This Sir Eberhard had early in life entered the army of the Emperor; had served under the celebrated George of Frondsberg, and subsequently commanded a company against the Venetians. Afterwards, on retiring from service, and settling at his castle, he began to lead a more pious and charitable life:—he held open castle for the destitute, or for hungry and houseless travellers; but, on taking leave, he invariably flogged them out of the castle. Sir Eberhard was a rude soldier, and retained the manners of a camp, though he had been living some years in retirement.
In a few minutes the bars of the gate were withdrawn, with a melancholy sound, as if giving warning of the approaching flogging, and Franz had a fit of cold shivers as he walked across the courtyard. He was hospitably received, and a number of lackeys ran to help him to dismount: one took his baggage, another his steed, while a third ushered him into the presence of the Knight. He was seated in a splendid hall, but rose to meet his guest, and shook him by the hand so heartily that Franz almost cried out with pain, and was struck with fear and awe. He could not conceal his terror, and trembled from head to foot at the warlike appearance of the Knight, who exclaimed in a voice of thunder, “What is the matter, young man, that you tremble and grow pale, as if in the clutches of death?” Franz felt that it was now too late to retract, and, being convinced that he was likely to pay dear for his fare, he summed up all his courage, and assumed even a haughty air to conceal his fears.
“Sir knight,” he boldly replied, “the rain has drenched me as if I had swam through the Weser; I wish, therefore, to change my wet clothes, and to get a good warm posset to banish these shiverings, which seem like the commencement of an ague.”
“Well said,” replied the knight; “make yourself at home, and ask for what you want.”
Franz made the servants wait on him, as if he had been the grand Turk, and, having only blows to expect, he thought it best to deserve them properly. He therefore ordered the servants about, and teased them in every possible way.
The master of the house, so far from showing any displeasure at these liberties, even obliged his servants to fulfil Franz’s commands, and called them blockheads, who knew not how to wait on his guests. When the posset was ready, both landlord and guest, partook heartily of it. Soon afterwards the former said,
“Will you take some supper, young sir?”
