Forward of Otto of the Silver Hand. This is the LeapRevox recording. All LeapRevox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LeapRevox.org. Recording by Arktra. Otto of the Silver Hand by Howard Pyle. Forward. Between the far away past history of the world and that which lies near to us in the time when the wisdom of the ancient times was dead and had passed away and our own days of light had not yet come, there lay a great black gulf in human history, a gulf of ignorance, of superstition, of cruelty and of wickedness. That time we call the dark or middle ages. Few records remain to us of that dreadful period in our world's history and we only know of it through broken and disjointed fragments that have been handed down to us through the generations. Yet though the world's life then was so wicked and black there yet remained a few good men and women here and there, mostly in peaceful and quiet monasteries far from the thunder and the glare of the world's bloody battle who knew the right and the truth and lived according to what they knew who preserved and tenderly cared for the truth that the dear Christ taught and lived and died for in Palestine so long ago. This tale that I'm about to tell is of a little boy who lived and suffered in those dark middle ages of how he saw both the good and the bad of men and of how by gentleness and love and not by strife and hatred he came at last to stand above other men and to be looked up to by all. And should you follow the story to the end I hope you may find it a pleasure as I have done to ramble through those dark Asian castles to lie with little Otto and Brother John in the high belfry tower or to sit with them in the peaceful quiet of the sunny old monastery garden. For of all the story I love best those early peaceful years that little Otto spent in the dear old white cross on the hill. Poor little Otto's life was a stony and a thorny pathway and it is well for all of us nowadays that we walk it in fancy and not in truth. End of forward. Chapter 1 The Dragon's House Up from the gray rocks, rising sheer and bold and bare stood the walls and towers of castle Drachenhausen. A great gateway with a heavy iron-pointed portcullis hang suspended in the dim arch above, yawned blackly upon the bascule or falling drawbridge spanned a chasm between the blank stone walls and the roadway that wound down the steep rocky slope to the little valley just beneath. There in the lap of the hills around stood the wretched straw-thatched huts of the peasants belonging to the castle. Miserable serfs who, half timid, half fierce, tilled their poor patches of ground wrenching from the hard soil barely enough to keep body and soul together.  Beyond these squad had slay the rushing, foaming river spanned by a high, rude stone bridge where the road from the castle crossed it and beyond the river stretched the great black forest within whose gloomy depths the savage wild beast made their lair and where in wintertime the howling wolves coursed their flying prey across the moonlit snow and under the network of the black shadows from the naked boughs above. The watchman in the cold, windy bartizan or watchtower that clung to the gray walls above the castle gateway looked from his narrow window where the wind piped and hummed across the treetops that rolled in endless spillos of green over hill and over valley to the blue and distant slope of the Kaiserberg where, on the mountainside, glimmered far away the walls of castle trutes drachen. Within the massive stone walls through which the gaping gateway led three great cheerless brick buildings so forbidding that even the yellow sunlight could not light them into brightness Look down, throw upon a row of windows upon three sides of the bleak stone courtyard back of and above them clustered a jumble of other buildings tower and turret, one high-peaked roof overtopping another The great house in the centre was the Berrenshall the park that left was called the Röderhassen between the two stood a huge square pile rising dizzily up into the clear air high above the rest the great Melchor tower at the top clustered a jumble of buildings hanging high aloft in the windy space a crooked wooden belfry, a tall narrow watchtower and a rude wooden house that clung partly to the roof of the great tower and partly to the walls from the chimney of this crazy hut a thin cut of smoke would now and then rise into the air for there were folk living far up in that empty, airy desert and sometimes wild, uncouth little children were seen playing on the edge of that dizzy height or sitting with their bare legs hanging down over the sheer depths as they gazed below what was going on in the courtyard there they sat, just as little children in the town might sit upon their father's doorstep and as the sparrows might fly around the feet of the little town children so the circling flocks of rooks and dolls flew around the feet of these airborne creatures it was Schwartz-Karl and his wife and little ones who lived far up there in the Melchor tower for it overlooked the top of the hill behind the castle and so downed the valley upon the further side there day after day Schwartz-Karl kept watch upon the grey road that ran like a ribbon through the valley from the rich town of Grunstalt to the rich town of Stathenburgen where passed merchant caravans from the one to the other the lord of Drachenhausen was a robber baron DONG DONG the great alarm bell would suddenly ring out from the bell fry high up upon the Melchor tower DONG DONG to the rooks and dolls world clamoring and screaming DONG DONG till a fierce wolf hounds in the rocky kennels behind the castle stables howled dismally an answer DONG DONG DONG DONG then would follow a great noise and uproar and hurry in the castle courtyard below men shouting and calling to one another ringing of armor and the clatter of horses hoofs upon the hard stone with the creaking and groaning of the windlass the iron-pointed portulis would be slowly raised and with a clank and rattle and clash of iron chains the drawbridge would fall crashing then over it would thunder a horse and man clattering away down the winding stony pathway until the great forest would swallow them and they would be gone then for a while peace would fall upon the castle courtyard the cock would crow the cook would scold a lazy maid and Gretchen, leaning out of the window would sing a snatch of a song just as though it were a peaceful farmhouse instead of a den of robbers Nabya would be evening before the men would return once more Perhaps one would have a bloody cloth bound about his head Perhaps one would carry his arm in a sling Perhaps one, perhaps more than one would be left behind never to return again and soon forgotten by all accepting some poor woman who would weep silently in the loneliness of her daily work nearly always the adventurers would bring back with them pack horses laden with bells of goods Sometimes, besides these they would return with a poor soul his hands tied behind his back and his feet beneath the horse's body his fur cloaked with his flat cap woefully awry a while he would disappear in some gloomy cell of the dungeon keep until an envoy would come from the town with a fat purse when his ransom would be paid the dungeon would disgorge him and he would be allowed to go upon his way again One man always rode beside Baron Conrad in his expeditions and adventures a short, deep-chested, broad-shouldered man with sinewy arms so long that when he stood his hands hung nearly to his knees His coarse, close-cliped hair came so low upon his brow that only a strip of forehead showed between it and his bushy black eyebrows One eye was blind the other twinkled and gleamed like a spark under the penthouse of his brows Many folks said that the one-eyed hunts had drunk beer with a hillman who had given him the strength of ten for he could bend an iron spit like a hazel twig and could lift a barrel of wine from the floor to his head as easily as though it were a basket of eggs As for the one-eyed hunts he never said that he had not drunk beer with a hillman for he liked the credit that such reports gave him with other folk and so, like a half-savage mastiff faithful to death to his master, but to him alone he went a-silent way and lived a-silent life within the castle walls half respected, half feared by the other inmates for it was dangerous trifling with the one-eyed hunts End of Chapter 1 The inmates stretch the long heavy wooden table loaded with coarse food, black bread, boiled cabbage, bacon, eggs a great chime from a wild boar, sausages such as we eat nowadays and flagons and jars of beer and wine Along the board sat ranged in the order of the household the followers and retainers four or five slatterly women and girls and the others as they fed noisily at the table moving here and there behind the men with wooden or puted dishes of food now and then laughing at the jest that passed or joining in the talk a huge fire blazed and crackled and roared in the great open fireplace before which were stretched two fierce shaggy wolfish-looking hounds outside the rain beat upon the roof or ran trickling through the eaves and every now and then a chill draught of wind would breathe through the open windows of the great black dining-hall and set the fire roaring Along the dull grey wall of stone hung pieces of armour and swords and lances and great branching antlers of the stag overhead arched the rude heavy oaken beams blackened with age and smoke and underfoot was a chill pavement of stone upon Baron Conrad's shoulder leaned the pale slender yellow-haired Baron S the only one in all the world with whom the fierce lord of Drakenhausen softened to gentleness the only one upon whom his savage brows looked kindly and to whom his harsh voice softened with love the Baron S was talking to her husband in a low voice as he looked down into her pale face with its gentle blue eyes and wilt thou not then, said she, do that one thing for me nay, he growled in his deep voice I cannot promise thee never more to attack the townspeople in the valley over yonder how else could I live? and I did not take from the fat town hogs to fill our own larder nay, said the Baron S thou couldst live as some others do for all do not rob the burgher folk as thou dost alas, mishap will come upon thee some day and if thou shouldst be slain what then would come of me? but, said the Baron, thy foolish fears but he laid his rough hairy hand softly upon the Baron S's head and stroked her yellow hair for my sake Conrad whispered the Baron S a pause followed the Baron sat looking thoughtfully down into the Baron S's face a moment more and he might have promised what she besought a moment more and he might have been saved all the bit of trouble that was to follow but it was not to be suddenly a harsh sound broke the quietness of all into a confusion of noises don, don it was the great alarm bell from Melkor's tower the Baron started at the sound he sat for a moment or two with his hand clenched upon the arm of his seat as though about to rise then he sunk back into his chair again all the others had risen tumultuously from the table and now stood looking at him awaiting his orders for my sake Conrad said the Baron S again don, don rang the alarm bell the Baron sat with his eyes bent upon the floor scowling blackly the Baron S took his hand in both of hers for my sake she pleaded and the tears filled her blue eyes as she looked up at him do not go this time from the courtyard without came the sound of horses hooves clashing against the stone pavement and those in the hall stood watching and wondering at this strange delay of the Lord Baron just then the door opened and one came pushing past the rest it was the one-eyed Hans he came straight to where the Baron sat and leaning over whispered something into his master's ear for my sake implored the Baron S again but the scare was turned the Baron pushed back his chair heavily and rose to his feet forward he roared in a voice of thunder and a great shout went up in answer as he strode clanking down the hall and out of the open door the Baron S covered her face with her hands and wept never mind little bird said old Ursula the nurse soothingly he will come back to the again as he has come back to thee before but the poor young Baron S continued weeping with her face buried in her hands because he had not done that thing she had asked a white young face framed in yellow hair looked out into the courtyard from a window above but if Baron Conrad of Drakenhausen saw it from beneath the bars of his shining helmet he made no sign forward he cried again down thundered the drawbridge and away they rode with clashing hooves and ringing armour through the grey shroud of trimming rain the day had passed and the evening had come and the Baron S and her women sat beside a roaring fire all were chattering and talking and laughing but two the fair young Baron S and old Ursula the one sat listening, listening, listening the other sat with her chin resting in the palm of her hand sadly watching her young mistress the night was falling grey and chill when suddenly the clear notes of a bugle rang from without the castle walls the young Baron S started and the rosy light flashed up into her pale cheeks yes, good, said old Ursula the red fox has come back to his den again and I warrant he brings a fat town goose in his mouth now we'll have fine clothes to wear and thou one of the gold chain to hang about thy pretty neck the young Baron S laughed merrily at the old woman's speech this time said she I will choose a string of pearls like that one my aunt used to wear and which I had about my neck when Conrad first saw me minutes after minutes passed the Baron S sat nervously playing with a bracelet of golden beads about her wrist how long he stays, said she yes, said Ursula but it is not cousin wish that holds him by the coat she spoke a door banged in the passageway without and the ring of iron footstep sounded upon the stone floor clank, clank, clank the Baron S rose to her feet, her face all alight the door opened then the flash of joy faded away and the face grew white, white, white one hand clutched the back of the bench whereon she had been sitting the other hand pressed tightly against her side it was Hans, the one-eyed, who stood in the doorway and black trouble sat on his brow all were looking at him, waiting Conrad, whispered the Baron S at last where is Conrad, where is your master? and even her lips were white as she spoke the one-eyed Hans said nothing just then came the sound of men's voices in the corridor and the shuffle and scuffle of feet carrying a heavy load nearer and nearer they came and one-eyed Hans stood aside six men came struggling through the doorway carrying a litter and on the litter lay the great Baron Conrad the flaming torch thrust into the iron bracket against the wall it flashed up with the draught of air from the open door and the light fell upon the white face and the closed eyes and showed upon his body armour a great red stain that was not the stain of rust suddenly Ursula cried out in a sharp shrill voice Catch her, she falls it was the Baron S then the old crown turned fiercely upon the one-eyed Hans ooh! she cried why didst thou bring him here thou has killed thy lady I did not know said the one-eyed Hans stupidly End of Chapter 2 Chapter 3 of Auto of the Silver Hand this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer visit LibriVox.org recorded by Kirsten Ferrari Auto of the Silver Hand by Howard Pyle Chapter 3 How the Baron came home shorn but Baron Conrad was not dead for days he lay upon his hard bed now muttering incoherent words beneath his red beard now raving fiercely with the fever of his wound but one day he woke again to the things about him he turned his head first to the one side and then to the other there sat Schwartz Carl and the one-eyed Hans two or three other retainers stood by a great window that looked out into the courtyard beneath jesting and laughing together in low tones and one lay upon the heavy oaken bench that stood along by the wall snoring in his sleep where is your lady said the Baron presently and why is she not with me at this time the man that lay upon the bench started up at the sound of his voice and those at the window came hurrying to his bedside but Schwartz Carl and the one-eyed Hans looked at one another and neither of them spoke the Baron saw the look and in it read a certain meaning that brought him to his elbow though only to sink back upon his pillow again with a groan why do you not answer me said he at last in a hollow voice then to the one-eyed Hans has no tongueful that thou standest gaping there like a fish answer me where is I mistress I I do not know stammered poor Hans for a while the Baron lay silently looking from one face to the other then he spoke again how long have I been lying here said he a senite my lord said master Rudolph the steward who had come into the room and who now stood among the others at the bedside a senite repeated the Baron in a low voice and then to master Rudolph and has the Baron has been often beside me in that time master Rudolph hesitated answer me said the Baron harshly not not often said master Rudolph hesitatingly the Baron lay silent for a long time at last he passed his hands over his face and held them there for a minute then of a sudden before anyone knew what he was about to do he rose upon his elbow and then sat upright upon the bed the green wound broke out afresh and a dark red spot grew and spread upon the linen wrappings his face was drawn and haggard with the pain of his moving and his eyes wild and bloodshot great drops of sweat gathered and stood upon his forehead as he sat swaying slightly from side to side my shoes said he hoarsely master Rudolph stepped forward but my lord Baron he began and then stopped short for the Baron shot him such a look that his tongue stood still in his head Hans saw that look out of his one eye down he dropped upon his knees and fumbling under the bed brought forth a pair of soft leather shoes which he slipped upon the Baron's feet and then laced the thongs above the insidap your shoulder said the Baron he rose slowly to his feet gripping Hans in the stress of his agony until the fellow winced again for a moment he stood as though gathering strength then doggedly started forth upon that quest which he had set upon himself at the door he stopped for a moment as though overcome by his weakness and there master Nicholas his cousin met him for the steward had sent one of the retainers to tell the old man what the Baron was about to do thou must go back again Conrad said master Nicholas thou would not fit to be abroad the Baron answered him never a word he stared at him from out of his bloodshot eyes and ground his teeth together then he started forth again upon his way down the long hall he went slowly and laboriously the others following silently behind him then up the steep winding stairs step by step now and then stopping to lean against the wall so he reached a long and gloomy passageway lit only by the light of a little window at the further end he hopped at the door of one of the rooms that opened into this passageway stood for a moment then he pushed it open no one was within but old Ursula who sat crooning over a fire with a bundle upon her knees she did not see the Baron or know that he was there where is your lady said he in a hollow voice then the old nurse looked up at the start Jesus bless us cried she and crossed herself where is your lady said the Baron again in the same horse voice and then not waiting for an answer is she dead the old woman looked at him for a minute blinking her watery eyes and then suddenly broke into a shrill long drawn wail the Baron needed to hear no more as though in answer to the old woman's cry a thin piping complaint came from the bundle in her lap at the sound the red blood flashed up into the Baron's face what is that you have there said he pointing to the bundle upon the old woman's knees she drew back the coverings and there lay a poor weak little baby that once again raised its faint reedy pipe it is your son said Ursula that the dear Baroness left behind her when the holy angels took her to paradise she blessed him and called him auto before she left us End of Chapter 3 Chapter 4 of Auto of the Silver Hand This is the LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Arctura Auto of the Silver Hand by Howard Pyle Chapter 4 The White Cross on the Hill Here are the glassy waters of the river Rhine Holding upon its bosom a mimic picture of the blue sky and white clouds floating above Run smoothly around a jetting point of land St. Michael'sburg Rising from the reedy banks of the stream Sweeps up with a smooth swell until a cut sharp and clear against the sky Stubby vineyards covered its earthy breast and field and garden orchard crowned its brow Relay the monastery of St. Michael'sburg The White Cross on the Hill There within the white walls where the warm yellow sunlight slept all was peaceful quietness broken only now and then by the crowing of the cock or the clamorous cackle of a hen the looming of kind or the bleeding of goats a solitary voice in prayer the faint accord of distant singing or the resonant toll of the monastery bell from the high peak belfry that overlooked the hill and valley in a smooth, far-winding stream No other sounds broke the stillness for in this peaceful haven was never heard the clash of armour the ring of iron shod hoofs or the horse called to arms All men were not wicked and cruel and fierce in that dark, far-away age All were not robbers and terrorists spreading tyrants even in that time when men's hands were against their neighbors and wore an agape and dwelt in place of peace and justice How about Otto of St. Michael'sburg was a gentle, patient, pale-faced old man His white hands were soft and smooth and no one would have thought they could have known the harsh touch of sword-hilt and lance and yet in the days of the Emperor Friedrich the grandson of the Great Red Beard no one stood higher in the prowess of arms than he But all at once for why no man could tell a change came over him and the flower of his youth and fame and growing power gave up everything in life and entered the quiet sanctuary and monastery on the hillside so far away from the tumult and the conflict to the world in which he had lived Some said that it was because the lady he had loved had loved his brother and that when they were married Otto of Wohlburgen had left the church with a broken heart but such stories or old songs that had been sung before Clatter, clatter, jingle, jingle It was a full-arm night that came riding up the steep hill road that wound from left to right and right to left amid the vineyards and the slopes of St. Michael'sburg Polished home and coarselip blazed in the noon sunlight for no night in those days dared to ride the roads except in full armor In front of him the solitary night carried a bundle wrapped in the folds of his coarse gray cloak It was a sorely sick man the road of the heights of St. Michael'sburg His head hung upon his breast through the faintness of weariness and pain For it was the barren Conrad He had left his bed of sickness that morning had saddled his horse in the gray dawn with his own hands and had ridden away into the misty twilight of the forest without the knowledge of anyone accepting the porter who, winking and blinking in the bewilderment of his broken slumber had opened the gates to the sick man hardly knowing what he was doing until he beheld his master far away clattering down the steep bridle path Eight leagues had he ridden that day with neither a stopped nor a stay But now at last the end of his journey had come and he drew rain into the shade of the great wooden gateway of St. Michael'sburg He reached up the knotted rope and made a pull and from within the sound of the answering ring of the porter's bell by and by a little wicket opened in the great wooden portals the gentle wrinkled face of old brother Benedict the porter peeped out the strange ironclad visitor in the great black warhorse streaked in wet with a sweat of the journey flecked and doppled with flakes of foam a few words passed between them and then the little window was closed again and within the shuffling pad of the sandaled feet sounded fainter and fainter this brother Benedict wore the message from Baron Conrad to Abbot Otto and the male clad figure was left alone sitting there as silent as a statue by and by the footsteps sounded again there came a noise of clattering chains and the rattle of the key in the lock and the rasping of the bolts dragged back and the gate swung slowly open and Baron Conrad rode into the shelter of the white cross and as the hoofs of his warhorse clashed upon the stones of the courtyard within the wooden gate swung slowly too behind him Abbot Otto stood by the table when Baron Conrad entered the high vaulted room from the farther end the light from the oil window behind the old man shed broken rays of light upon him and seemed to frame his thin gray hairs with a golden glory his white delicate hand rested upon the table beside him and upon some sheets of parchment covered with rows of ancient Greek writing which he had been engaged in deciphering clank, clank, clank Baron Conrad strode across the stone floor and then stopped short in front of the good old man What does thou seek here, my son? said the Abbot I seek sanctuary for my son and my brother's grandson said the Baron Conrad and he flung back the folds of his cloak and showed the face of the sleeping babe for a while the Abbot said nothing and stood gazing dreamily at the baby after a while he looked up and the child's mother said he what hath she to say at this? she hath not to say said Baron Conrad horsely and stopped short in his speech she is dead said he at last in a husky voice and is with God's angels in paradise the Abbot looked intently in the Baron's face so said he under his breath and then for the first time noticed how white and drawn was the Baron's face art sick thyself he asked I said the Baron I have come from death's door but that is no matter will thou take this little babe in sanctuary my house is a vile rough place and not fit for such as he and his mother with a blessed saints in heaven and once more Conrad of Drachenhausen's face began twitching with the pain of his thoughts yes said the old man gently he shall live here and he stretched out his hands and took the babe would said he that all the little children these dark times might be this brought to the house of God and they'll learn mercy and peace instead of rapine and war for a while he stood looking down in silence of the babe in his arms but with his mind far away upon other things at last he roused himself with a start and thou said he to the Baron Conrad hath not thy heart been chastened and softened by this surely thou will not go back to thy old life of rapine and extortion nay said Baron Conrad gruffly I will grow this city swine no longer for that was the last thing that my dear one asked of me the old Abbot's face lit up with a smile I am ripe glad that thy heart was softened and that thou art willing at last to seize from war and violence nay said Baron gruffly I said nothing of seizing from war by heaven no I will have revenge and he clashed his iron foot upon the floor and clenched his fists and ground his teeth together listened said he and I will tell thee how my troubles happened a fortnight ago I rode out upon an expedition against a caravan of fat burqers in the valley of Grukenhoffen they remembered us many to one but the city swine such as there not the stuff to stand against our kind for a long time nevertheless while the men at arms who guarded the caravan were staying as with Pike and Crossbow from behind a tree which they had felled in front of a high bridge the others had driven the pack-courses off so that by the time we had forced the bridge they were a league or more away we pushed off to them as hard as we were able but when we came up with them we were being joined by Baron Frederick of Tschutztrachen to whom for three years and more the burqers of Gruenstadt have been paying a tribute for his protection against others then again they made a stand and this time the Baron Frederick himself was with them but the dogs fought well we were forcing them back and might have got a better of them and then my horse stumbled upon a sloping stone and so fell and rolled over me while I lay there with my horse upon me Baron Frederick ran me down with his lance and gave me that foul wound that came so near to slaying me and did slay my dear wife nevertheless my men were able to bring me out from their press in a way and we had bitten that Tschutztrachen dog so deep that they were too sore to follow us and so let us go our way in peace but when those fools of mine brought me to my castle they bore me lying upon a litter to my wife's chamber there she beheld me and thinking me dead swooned a death swoon said she only lived long enough to bless her newborn babe and name an Otto for you her father's brother but by heaven I will have revenge jut in branch upon that vile tribe the groter bergs of Tschutztrachen their great-grandsire built that castle in scorn of Baron Casper in the old days their grand-sire slew my father's grand-sire Baron Nicholas slew two of our kindred and now this Baron Frederick gives me that foul wound and kills my dear wife through my body he the Baron stopped short then of a sudden shaking his fist above his head he cried out in his horse voice I swear by all the saints in heaven either the red crock shall crow over the roof of Tschutztrachen or else it shall crow over my house the black dog shall sit on Baron Frederick's shoulders or else he shall sit on mine again he stopped and fixing his blazing eyes upon the old man here's that priest said he and broke into a great boisterous laugh Abbot Otto sighed heavily but he tried no further to persuade the other into different thoughts Thou art wounded, said he, at last, in a gentle voice at least stay here with us until Thou art healed nay, said the Baron, roughly I will tarry no longer than to hear the promise to care for my child I promise, said the Abbot but lay aside thy armor and rest nay, said the Baron, I go back again today at this thought Abbot cried out in amazement sure, thou wounded man, would not take that long journey without ado stay for resting think, night will be upon thee before thou canst reach home again in the forest I'll be set with wolves the Baron laughed those are not the wolves I fear, he said urge me no further, I must return to night yet if thou hast a mind to do me a kindness thou canst give me some food to eat and a flask of your golden Michaelsburg beyond these I ask no further favor of any man be he priest or layman but comfort I can give thee thou shalt have said the Abbot in his patient voice and so left the room to give the needful orders bearing the babe with him End of Chapter 4 How Otto dwelt at St. Michaelsburg So the poor little motherless wave lived among the old monks at the white cross on the hill thriving and growing apace until he had reached eleven or twelve years of age a slender, fair-haired little fellow with a strange, quiet, serious manner Poor little child old brother Benedict would sometimes say to the others poor little child the troubles in which he was born must have broken his wits like a glass cup what think ye he said to me today dear brother Benedict said he dost thou shave the hair off the top of thy head so that the dear God may see thy thoughts the better think of that now and the good old man shook with silent laughter when such talk came to the good father Abbot's ears he smiled quietly to himself it may be, said he, that the wisdom of little children flies higher than our heavy wits can follow at least Otto was not slow with his studies and brother Emanuel who taught him his lessons said more than once that if his wits were cracked in other ways they were sound enough in Latin Otto, in a quaint, simple way which belonged to him was gentle and obedient to all but there was one among the brethren of St. Michael'sburg whom he loved far above all the rest brother John, a poor half-witted fellow of some twenty-five or thirty years of age when a very little child he had fallen from his nurse's arms and hurt his head and as he grew up into boyhood and showed that his wits had been addled by his fall his family knew not what else to do with him and so sent him off to the monastery of St. Michael'sburg where he lived his simple, witless life upon a sort of sufferance as though he were a tame, harmless animal while Otto was still a little baby he had been given into brother John's care thereafter, and until Otto had grown old enough to care for himself poor brother John never left his little charge night or day oftentimes, the good father Abbot coming into the garden where he loved to walk alone in his meditations would find the poor, simple brother sitting under the shade of the pear tree close to the beehives rocking the little baby in his arms singing strange, crazy songs to it and gazing far away into the blue empty sky with his curious, pale eyes although as Otto grew up into boyhood his lessons and his tasks separated him from brother John the bond between them seemed to grow stronger rather than weaker during the hours that Otto had for his own they were scarcely ever apart down in the vineyard where the monks were gathering the grapes for the vintage in the garden or in the fields the two were always seen together either wandering hand in hand or seated in some shady nook or corner but most of all they loved to lie up in the airy wooden bell fry the great gaping bell hanging darkly above them the moldering crossbeams glimmering far up under the dim shadows of the roof where dwelt a great brown owl that, unfrightened at their familiar presence stared down at them with his round solemn eyes below them stretched the white walls of the garden beyond them the vineyard and beyond that again the far shining river that seemed to Otto's mind to lead into wonderland there the two would lie upon the bell fry floor by the hour talking together of the strangest things I saw the dear angel Gabriel again yesterday morning said brother John so says Otto seriously and where was that? it was out in the garden in the old apple tree said brother John I was walking there and my wits were running around in the grass like a mouse what heard I but a wonderful sound of singing and it was like the hum of a great bee only sweeter than honey so I looked up into the tree and there I saw two sparks I thought at first that they were two stars that had fallen out of heaven but what think you they were little child I do not know said Otto breathlessly they were angels eyes said brother John and he smiled in the strangest way as he gazed up into the blue sky so I looked at the two sparks and felt happy as one does in springtime when the cold weather is gone and the warm sun shines cuckoo sings again then by and by I saw the face to which the eyes belonged first it shone white and thin like the moon in the daylight but it grew brighter and brighter until it hurts one's eyes to look at it as though it had been the blessed sun itself angel Gabriel's hand was as white as silver and in it he held a green bow with blossoms like those that grow on the thorn bush as for his robe it was all of one piece and finer than the father Abbott's linen and shone beside like the sunlight on pure snow so I knew from all these things that it was the blessed angel Gabriel what do they say about this tree brother John said he to me they say it's dying my lord angel said I and that the gardener will bring a sharp axe and cut it down and what does thou say about it brother John said he I also say yes and that it is dying said I at that he smiled until his face shone so bright that I had to shut my eyes now I begin to believe brother John that thou art as foolish as men say said he look till I show thee and there at I opened my eyes again then angel Gabriel touched the dead branches with the flowery twig that he held in his hand and there was the dead wood all covered with green leaves and fair blossoms and beautiful apples as yellow as gold each smelling more sweetly than a garden of flowers and better to the taste than white bread and honey they are the souls of the apples said the good angel and they can never wither and die then I'll tell the gardener that he shall not cut the tree down said I no, no said the dear Gabriel that will never do for if the tree is not cut down here on the earth it can never be planted in paradise here brother John stopped short in his story and began singing one of his crazy songs as he gazed with his pale eyes far away into nothing at all but tell me brother John said little Otto in a hushed voice what else did the good angel say to thee brother John stopped short in his song and began looking from right to left and up and down as though to gather his wits so said he there was something else that he told me if I could but think now yes good this is it nothing that has lived said he shall ever die and nothing that has died shall ever live Otto drew a deep breath I would that I might see the beautiful angel Gabriel sometime said he but brother John was singing again and did not seem to hear what he said next to brother John the nearest one to the little child was the good Abbott Otto although he had never seen wonderful things with the eyes of his soul such as brother Johns had beheld and so could not tell of them he was yet able to give little Otto another pleasure that no one else could give he was a great lover of books the old Abbott and had under lock and key wonderful and beautiful volumes bound in hogskin and metal and with covers inlaid with carved ivory or studded with precious stones but within these covers beautiful as they were lay the real wonder of the books like the soul in the body for there beside the black letters and initials gay with red and blue and gold were beautiful pictures painted upon the creamy parchment saints and angels the blessed virgin with the golden orial about her head good saint Joseph the three kings the simple shepherds kneeling in the fields while angels with glories about their brow called to the poor peasants from the blue sky above but most beautiful of all was the picture of the Christ child lying in the manger with the mild-eyed kind gazing at him sometimes the old Abbott would unlock the iron bound chest where these treasures lay hidden and carefully and lovingly brushing the few grains of dust from them would lay them upon the table beside the orial window in front of his little namesake allowing the little boy freedom to turn the leaves as he chose always it was one picture that little Otto sought the Christ child in the manger with the virgin saint Joseph the shepherds and the kind and as he would hang breathlessly gazing and gazing upon it the old Abbott would sit watching him with a faint half sad smile flickering around his thin lips and his pale narrow face it was a pleasant peaceful life but by and by the end came Otto was now nearly 12 years old one bright clear day near the hour of noon little Otto heard the porter's bell sounding below in the courtyard dong dong brother Emmanuel had been appointed as the boy's instructor and just then Otto was conning his lessons in the good monk's cell nevertheless at the sound of the bell he pricked up his ears and listened for a visitor was a strange matter in that out of the way place and he wondered who it could be so while his wits wandered his lessons lagged Posterafueba lustrabat lampade teras continued brother Emmanuel inexorably running his horny fingernail beneath the line human temque aurora polo dimovirat umbram the lesson dragged on just then a sandaled footstep sounded without in the stone corridor and a light tap fell upon brother Emmanuel's door it was brother Ignatius and the abbot wished little Otto to come to the refectory as they crossed the courtyard Otto stared to see a group of male clad men at arms some sitting upon their horses some standing by the saddle-bowl yonder's the young baron he heard one of them say in a gruff voice and there upon all turned and stared at him a stranger was in the refectory standing beside the good old abbot while food and wine were being brought and set upon the table for his refreshment a great tall broad-shouldered man beside whom the abbot looked thinner and slighter than ever the stranger was clad all in polished and gleaming armor of plate and chain over which was drawn a loose robe of gray woollen stuff reaching to the knees and bound about the waist by a broad leather and sword belt upon his arm he carried a great helmet which he had just removed from his head his face was weather-beaten and rugged and on lip and chin was a wiry bristling beard once red now frosted with white brother Ignatius had bidden Otto to enter and had closed the door behind him and now as the lad walked slowly up the long room he gazed with round wondering blue eyes at the stranger does thou know who I am Otto said the male clad knight in a deep growling voice me thinks you are my father sir said Otto I thou art right said Baron Conrad and I'm glad to see that these milk-churning monks have not allowed thee to forget me and who thou art thyself and it please you said Otto no one turneth milk here but brother Fritz we be makers of wine and not makers of butter at St. Michael'sburg Baron Conrad broke into a great loud laugh but Abbott Otto's sad and thoughtful face lit up with no shadow of an answering smile Conrad said he turning to the other again let me urge thee do not take the child hence his life can never be your life for he's not fitted for it I had thought said he after a moment's pause I had thought that thou hadst meant to consecrate him this motherless one to the care of the universal mother church so said the Baron thou hadst thought that hadst thou thou hadst thought that I had intended to deliver over this boy the last of the vulves to the arms of the church what then was to become of our name and the glory of our race if it was to end with him in a monastery no Drachenhausen is the home of the vulves and there the last of the race shall live as his sires have lived before him holding to his rights by the power and the might of his right hand the Abbott turned and looked at the boy who was gaping in simple wide-eyed wonderment from one to the other as they spoke and thus thou think Conrad said the old man in his gentle patient voice that that poor child can maintain his rights by the strength of his right hand the Baron's look followed the Abbott's and he said nothing in the few seconds of silence that followed little Otto in his simple mind was wondering what all this talk pretended why had his father come hither to St. Michael'sburg lighting up the dim silence of the monastery with the flash and ring of his polished armor why had he talked about churning butter but now when all the world knew that the monks of St. Michael'sburg made wine it was Baron Conrad's deep voice that broke the little pause of silence if you've made a milk maid of the boy he burst out at last I thank the dear heaven that there's yet time to undo your work and to make a man of him the Abbott's side the child is yours Conrad said he the will of the blessed saints be done may happen if he goes to dwell at Druckenhausen he may make you the better instead of you making him the worse then light came to the darkness of little Otto's wonderment he saw what all this talk meant and why his father had come hither he was to leave the happy sunny silence of the dear white cross and to go out into that great world that he had so often looked down upon from the high windy bell fry on the steep hillside End of Chapter 5 Chapter 6 of Otto of the Silver Hand This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Tim Lundin Otto of the Silver Hand by Howard Pyle Chapter 6 How Otto lived in the Dragon's House The gates of the monastery stood wide open the world lay beyond and all was ready for departure Baron Conrad and his men-at-arms sat foot in stirrup the milk-white horse that had been brought for Otto stood waiting for him beside his father's great charger Farewell, Otto! said the good old abbot as he stooped and kissed the boy's cheek Farewell! answered Otto in his simple quiet way and it brought a pang to the old man's heart that the child should seem to grieve so little at the leave-taking Farewell, Otto! said the brethren that stood about Farewell! Farewell! Then poor brother John came forward and took the boy's hand and looked up into his face as he sat upon his horse We will meet again, said he, with his strange vacant smile but maybe it will be in paradise and there perhaps they will let us lie in the father's belfry and look down upon the angels in the courtyard below I answered Otto with an answering smile Farewell! cried the Baron in a deep voice and with a clash of hooves and jingle of armor they were gone and the great wooden gates were shut too behind them down the steep winding pathway they rode and out into the great wide world beyond upon which Otto and brother John had gazed so often from the wooden belfry of the white cross on the hill Has been taught to ride a horse by the priests up yonder on Michaelsburg asked the Baron when they had reached the level road Nay, said Otto, we had no horse to ride but only to bring in the harvest or the grapes from the further vineyards to the vintage Frut, said the Baron, may thought the abbot would have had enough of the blood of old days in his veins to have taught thee what is fitting for a knight to know art not a feared Nay, said Otto, with a smile, I am not a feared There, at least I'll show us thyself of wealth said the grim Baron but perhaps Otto's thought of fear and Baron Conrad's thought of fear were two very different matters The afternoon had passed by the time they had reached the end of their journey up the steep stony path they rode to the drawbridge and the great gaping gateway of Drakenhausen where wall and tower and battlement looked darker and more forbidding than ever in the grey twilight of the coming night Little Otto looked up with great, wondering, awe-struck eyes at this grim new home of his The next moment they clattered over the drawbridge that spanned the narrow black gulf between the roadway and the wall and the next were past the echoing arch of the great gateway and in the grey gloaming of the paved courtyard within Otto looked around upon the many faces gathered there to catch the first sight of the little Baron Hard, rugged faces, seemed and weather-beaten very different from those of the gentle brethren among whom he had lived and it seemed strange to him that there was none there whom he should know As he climbed the steep stony steps to the door of the Baron's house Old Ursula came running down to meet him She flung her withered arms around him and hung him close to her My little child! she cried and then felt a sobbing as though her heart would break Here's someone knoweth me thought the little boy His new home was all very strange and wonderful to Otto the armours, the trophies, the flags the long galleries with their ranges of rooms the great hall below with its vaulted roof and its great fireplace of grotesquely carved stone and all the strange people with their lives and thoughts so different from what he had been used to know and it was a wonderful thing to explore all the strange places in the dark old castle places where it seemed to Otto no one could have ever been before Once, he wandered down a long dark passageway below the hall pushed open a narrow iron-bound ochendor and found himself all at once in a strange new land The grey light coming in through a range of tall narrow windows fell upon a row of silent, motionless figures carving in stone knights and ladies in strange armour and dress each lying upon his or her stony couch with clasped hands and gazing with fixed motionless, stony eyeballs up into the gloomy vaulted arch above them There lay in a cold silent row all of the wealths who had died since the ancient castle had been built It was the chapel into which Otto had made his way now long since fallen out of use accepting as a burial place of the race At another time he clambered up into the loft under the high peaked roof where lay numberless forgotten things covered with the dim dust of years There a flock of pigeons had made their roost and flapped noisily out into the sunlight when he pushed open the door from below Here he hunted among the mouldering things of the past until Oh, joy of joys In an ancient oaken chest he found a great lot of worm-eaten books that had belonged to some old chaplain of the castle in days gone by They were not precious and beautiful volumes such as the father Abbott had showed him but all the same they had their quaint, painted pictures of the blessed saints and angels Again, at another time Going into the courtyard Otto had found the door of Melchior's tower standing invitingly open For old Hilda, Schwartz Carl's wife had come down below upon some business or other Then upon the shaky wooden steps Otto ran without waiting for a second thought for he had often gazed at those curious buildings hanging so far up in the air and had wondered what they were like Round and round and up and up Otto climbed until his head spun At last he reached a landing stage and gazing over the edge and down beheld the stone pavement far, far below lit by a faint glimmer of light that entered through the arch doorway Otto clutched tight hold of the wooden rail he had no thought that he had climbed so far Upon the other side of the landing was a window that pierced the thick stone walls of the tower Out of the window he looked then drew suddenly back again with a gasp for it was through the outer wall he peered and down, down below in the dizzy depths he saw the hard grey rocks where the black swine looking no larger than ants in the distance fed upon the refuse thrown out over the walls of the castle There lay the moving tree tops like a billowy green sea and the coarse thatched roofs of the peasant cottages round which crawled the little children like tiny human specks Then Otto turned and crept down the stairs frightened at the height to which he had climbed At the doorway he met Mother Hilda Bless us! she cried starting back and crossing herself and then seeing who it was Doctor McCurtsy with as pleasant a smile as her forbidding face with its little deep-set eyes was able to put upon itself Old Ursula seemed nearer to the boy than anyone else about the castle excepting it was his father and it was a newfound delight to Otto to sit beside her and listen to her quaint stories so different from the monkish tales that he had heard and read at the monastery But one day it was a tale of a different sort that she told him and one that opened his eyes to what he had never dreamed of before The mellow sunlight fell through the window upon Old Ursula as she sat in the warmth with her distaff in her hands while Otto lay close to her feet upon a bearskin silently thinking over the strange story of a brave knight and a fiery dragon that she had just told him Suddenly Ursula broke the silence Little one said she now at wondrously like thine own dear mother Didst ever thou hear how she died? Nay, said Otto But tell me Ursula, how it was Tis strange, said the old woman that no one should have told thee in all this time And then, in her own fashion she related to him the story of how his father had set forth upon that expedition in spite of all that Otto's mother had said beseeching him to abide at home how he had been foully wounded and how the poor lady had died from her fright and grief Otto listened with eyes that grew wider and wider though not all with wonder He no longer lay upon the bearskin but sat up with his hands clasped For a moment or two after the old woman had ended her story he sat staring silently at her Then he cried out in a sharp voice And is this truth that you tell me Ursula? And did my father seek to rob the townspeople of their goods? Old Ursula laughed I, said she That he did, and many times Ah me, those days are all gone now And she fetched a deep sigh Then we lived in plenty and had both silks and linens and velvets besides in the store closets and were able to buy good wines and live in plenty upon the best Now we dress in frieze and live upon what we can get Sometimes that is little enough with nothing better than sour beer to drink But there is one comfort in it all and that is that our good Baron paid back the score he owed the Trotsdrucken people not only for that but for all that they had done from the very first Thereupon she went on to tell Otto how Baron Conrad had fulfilled the pledge of revenge that he had made Abbot Otto how he had watched day after day until one time he had caught the Trotsdrucken folk with Baron Friedrich at their head in a narrow defile back of the Kaiserberg of the fierce fight that was their fought of how the Rotabergs at last fled leaving Baron Friedrich behind them, wounded of how he had kneeled before the Baron Conrad asking for mercy and of how Baron Conrad had answered Aye, thou shalt have such mercy as thou deservedst and had their width raised his great two-handed sword and laid his kneeling enemy dead at one blow Poor little Otto had never dreamed that such cruelty and wickedness could be He listened to the old woman's story with gaping horror and when the last came and she told him with a smack of her lips how his father had killed his enemy with his own hand he gave a gasping cry and sprang to his feet Just then the door at the other end of the chamber was noisily opened and Baron Conrad himself strode into the room Otto turned his head and seeing who it was gave another cry loud and quavering and ran to his father and caught him by the hand Oh, father! he cried Oh, father! Is it true that thou has killed a man with thy own hand? Aye, said the Baron grimly It is true enough and I think me I have killed many more than one But what of that, Otto? I must get out of these foolish notions that the old monks have taught thee Here in the world it is different from what it is at St. Michael'sburg Here a man must either slay or be slain But poor little Otto with his face hidden in his father's robe cried as though his heart would break Oh, father! he said again and again It cannot be It cannot be that thou who are so kind to me should have killed a man with thy own hands Then I wish that I were back in the monastery again I'm afraid out here in the great wide world perhaps somebody may kill me for I'm only a weak little boy and could not save my own life if they chose to take it from me Baron Conrad looked down upon Otto all the while drawing his bushy eyebrows together Once he reached out his hand as though to stroke the boy's hair but drew it back again Turning angrily upon the old woman Ursula, said he I must tell the child no more such stories as these He knows not at all of such things as yet Keep thy tongue busy with the old woman's tales that he loves to hear thee tell and leave it with me to teach him what becomeeth a true knight and of wealth That night the father and son sat together beside the roaring fire in the great ball Tell me, Otto, said the Baron Does thou hate me for having done what Ursula told thee today that I did? Otto looked for a while into his father's face I know not, said he at last in his quaint quiet voice but me thinks that I do not hate thee for it The Baron drew his bushy brows together until his eyes twinkled out of the depths beneath them Then, of a sudden he broke into a great loud laugh smiting his horny palm with a smack upon his thigh End of Chapter 6 Chapter 7 of Otto of the Silver Hand This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Tim Lundin Otto of the Silver Hand by Howard Pyle Chapter 7 The Red Cock Crows on Druckenhausen There was a new emperor in Germany who'd come from a far away Swiss castle Count Rudolph of Habsburg a good honest man with a good honest homely face but bringing with him a stern sense of justice and of right and a determination to put down the lawlessness of the savage German barons among whom he had come as emperor One day two strangers came galloping up the winding path to the gates of the dragon's house A horn sounded thin and clear A parlay was held across the chasm in the road between the two strangers and the porter who appeared at a little wicket Then a messenger was sent running to the baron who presently came striding across the open courtyard to the gateway to parlay with the strangers The two bore with them a folded parchment with a great red seal hanging from it like a clot of blood It was a message from the emperor demanding that the baron should come to the imperial court to answer certain charges that had been brought against him and to give his bond to maintain the peace of the empire One by one those barons who had been carrying on their private wars or had been despoiling the burger folk in their traffic from town to town and against whom complaint had been lodged were summoned to the imperial court where they were compelled to promise peace and to swear allegiance to the new order of things All those who came willingly were allowed to return home again after giving security for maintaining the peace All those who came not willingly were either brought in chains or rooted out of their strongholds with fire and sword in their roofs burned over their heads Now it was baron Conrad's turn to be summoned to the imperial court for complaint had been lodged against him by his old enemy of Trotsdraken baron Henry the nephew of the old baron Frederick who had been slain while kneeling in the dust of the road back of the Kaiserberg No one at Drakenhausen could read but master Rudolph, the steward who was sand blind and little Otto So the boy read the summons to his father while the grim baron sat silent with his chin resting upon his clenched fist and his eyebrows drawn together into a thoughtful frown as he gazed into the pale face of his son who sat by the rude oaken table with the great parchment spread out before him Should he answer the summons or scorn it as he would have done under the old emperors baron Conrad knew not which to do pride said one thing and policy another The emperor was a man with an iron hand and baron Conrad knew what had happened to those who had refused to obey the imperial commands So at last he decided that he would go to the court taking with him a suitable escort to support his dignity It was with nearly a hundred armed men clattering behind him that baron Conrad rode away to court to answer the imperial summons The castle was stripped of its fighting men and only eight remained behind to guard the great stone fortress and the little simple-witted boy It was a sad mistake Three days had passed since the baron had left the castle and now the third night had come The moon was hanging midway in the sky white and full for it was barely past midnight The high precipitous banks of the rocky road threw a dense black shadow into the gully below and in that crooked inky line that scarred the white face of the moonlit rocks a band of some thirty men were creeping slowly and stealthily nearer and nearer to castle Jachenhausen At the head of them was a tall slender night clad in light chain armor His head covered only by a steel cap or bassinet Along the shadow they crept with only now and then a faint clink or jingle of armor to break the stillness For most of those who followed the armored night were clad in leathern jerkins only one or two wearing even so much as a steel breastplate by way of armor So at last they reached the chasm that yawned beneath the roadway and there they stopped for they had reached the spot toward which they had been journeying It was Baron Henry of Trutsdrakken who had thus come in the silence of the night time to the dragon's house and his visit voted no good to those within The Baron and two or three of his men talked together in low tones now and then looking up at the sheer wall that towered above them Yander is the place Lord Baron said one of those who stood with him I've scanned every foot of the wall at night for a week past and we get not in by that way we get not in at all A canine eye, a true aim and a bold man are all that we need and the business is done Here again all looked upward at the gray wall above them rising up in the silent night air High aloft hung the wooden Bartizan or watchtower clinging to the face of the outer wall and looming black against the pale sky above Three great beams pierced the wall and upon them the wooden tower rested The middle beam jutted out beyond the rest to the distance of five or six feet and the end of it was carved into the rude semblance of a dragon's head So, good, said the Baron at last Then let us see if thy plan holds and if Hans Schmidt's aim is true enough to earn the three marks I've promised him Where is the bag? One of those who stood near handed the Baron a leathern pouch The Baron opened it and drew out a ball of fine thread another of twine a coil of stout rope and a great bundle that looked until it was unrolled by a fierce fishnet it was a rope ladder While these were being made ready Hans Schmidt a thick set low-browed, broad-shouldered archer strung his stout bow and carefully choosing three arrows from those in his quiver he stuck them point downward in the earth unwinding the ball of thread he laid it loosely in large loops upon the ground so that it might run easily without hitching then he tied the end of the thread tightly around one of his arrows he fitted the arrow to the bow and drew the feather to his ear twang, rang the bow string and the feathered messenger flew whistling upon its errand to the watchtower the very first shaft did the work Good, said Hans Schmidt, the archer in his heavy voice The three marks are mine, Lord Baron The arrow had fallen over and across the jutting beam between the carved dragon's head and the Bartosan carrying with it the thread which now hung from above glimmering white in the moonlight like a cobweb The rest was an easy task enough First the twine was drawn up to and over the beam by the thread then the rope was drawn up by the twine and last of all the rope ladder by the rope there it hung like a thin slender black line against the silent grey walls And now, said the Baron Who will go first and win fifty marks for his own and climb the rope ladder to the tower yonder those around hesitated Is there none brave enough to venture? said the Baron after a pause of silence A stout young fellow of about eighteen years of age stepped forward and flung his flat leather cap on the ground I will go, my Lord Baron said he Good, said the Baron The fifty marks are thine And now listen If thou finds no one in the watch tower Whistle thus If the watchman be at his post See that thou makes all safe before thou gives the signal When all is ready the others will follow thee and now go Good luck, go with thee The young fellow spat upon his hands and seizing the ropes began slowly and carefully to mount to the flimsy, shaking ladder Those below held it as tight as they were able but nevertheless he swung backward and forward and round and round as he climbed steadily upward Once he stopped upon the way and those below saw him clutch the ladder close to him as though dizzyed by the height and the motion but he soon began again up, up, up like some great black spider Presently he came out from the black shadow below and into the white moonlight and then his shadow followed him step by step up the gray wall upon his way At last he reached the jutting beam and there again he stopped for a moment clutching tightly to it The next he was upon the beam dragging himself toward the window of the barterson just above Slowly raising himself upon his narrow foothold he peeped cautiously within Those watching him from below saw him slip his hands softly to his side and then place something between his teeth it was his dagger Reaching up he clutched the window sill above him and with a silent spring seated himself upon it The next moment he disappeared within A few seconds of silence followed then of sudden a sharp gurgling cry broke the stillness There was another pause of silence then a faint shrill whistle sounded from above Who will go next? said the Baron It was Hans Schmidt who stepped forward Another followed the arch up the ladder and another and another Last of all went the Baron Henry himself and nothing was left but the rope ladder hanging from above and swaying back and forth in the wind That night Schwartz Kahl had been bousing it over a pot of yellow wine in the pantry with his old crony master Rudolf the steward and the two chatting and gossiping together had passed the time away until long after the rest of the castle had been wrapped in sleep then perhaps a little unsteady upon his feet Schwartz Kahl betook himself homeward to the Melchior Tower He stood for a while in the shadow of that doorway gazing up into the pale sky above him at the great bright round moon that hung like a bubble above the sharp peaks of the roofs standing black as ink against the sky But all of a sudden he started up from the post against which he had been leaning and with head bent to one side stood listening breathlessly for he too had heard that smothered cry from the watchtower so he stood intently motionlessly listening listening But all was silent except for the monotonous dripping of water in one of the nooks of the courtyard and the distant murmur of the river borne upon the breath of the night air Mayhaps I was mistaken muttered Schwartz Kahl to himself But the next moment the silence was broken again by a faint shrill whistle What did it mean? Back of the heavy, oaken door of the tower was Schwartz Kahl's crossbow the portable windlass with which the bowstring was drawn back and a pouch of bolts Schwartz Kahl reached back into the darkness fumbling in the gloom until his fingers met the weapon Setting his foot in the iron stirrup at the end of the stock he wound the stout bowstring into the notch of the trigger and carefully fitted the heavy, murderous-looking bolt into the groove minute after minute passed and Schwartz Kahl, holding his arblast in his hand stood silently waiting and watching in the sharp cut black shadow of the doorway motionless as a stone statue minute after minute passed Suddenly there was a movement in the shadow of the arch of the great gateway across the courtyard and the next moment a leathern clad figure crept noiselessly out upon the moonlit pavement and stood there, listening his head bent to one side Schwartz Kahl knew very well that it was no one belonging to the castle and from the nature of his action that he was upon no good errand He did not stop to challenge the suspicious stranger The taking of another's life was thought too small a matter for much thought or care in those days Schwartz Kahl would have shot a man for a much smaller reason than the suspicious actions of this fellow The leather-clad figure stood a fine target in the moonlight for a crossbow bolt Schwartz Kahl slowly raised the weapon to his shoulder and took a long and steady aim Just then the stranger put his fingers to his lips and gave a low shrill whistle It was the last whistle that he was to give upon this earth There was a sharp, jarring twang of the bowstring the hiss of the flying bolt and the dull thud as it struck its mark The man gave a shrill, quavering cry and went staggering back and then fell all of a heap against the wall behind him As though in answer to the cry half a dozen men rushed tumultuously out from the shadow of the gateway whence the stranger had just come and then stood in the courtyard looking uncertainly this way and that not knowing from what quarter the stroke had come that had laid their comrade low But Schwartz Kahl did not give them time to discover that There was no chance to string his cumbersome weapon again Down he flung it upon the ground Two arms! he roared in a voice of thunder and then clapped to the door of Melchior's tower and shot the great iron bolts with a clang and rattle The next instant the Trotsdraken men were thundering at the door but Schwartz Kahl was already far up the winding steps But now the others came pouring out from the gateway To the house! roared Baron Henry Then suddenly a clashing, clanging uproar crashed upon the night DONG! DONG! It was the great alarm bell for Melchior's tower Schwartz Kahl was at his post Little Baron Otto lay sleeping upon the great rough bed in his room dreaming of the white cross on the hill and of brother John By and by he heard the convent bell ringing and knew that there must be visitors at the gate for loud voices sounded through his dream Presently he knew that he was coming awake but though the sunny monastery garden grew dimmer and dimmer to his sleeping sight the clanging of the bell the sound of shouts grew louder and louder Then he opened his eyes Flaming red lights from torches carried hither and thither by people in the courtyard outside flashed and ran along the wall of his room Horses shouts and cries filled the air and suddenly the shrill piercing shriek of a woman rang from wall to wall and through the noises the great bell from far above upon Melchior's tower clashed and clanged in a harsh resonant alarm Otto sprang from his bed and looked out of the window and down upon the courtyard below Dear God, what dreadful thing have happened he cried and clasped his hands together A cloud of smoke was pouring out from the windows of the building across the courtyard whence a dull, ruddy glow flashed and flickered Strange men were running here and there with flaming torches a voice shrieking of women pierced the air Just beneath the window lay the figure of a man half naked and face downward upon the stones then suddenly Otto cried out in fear and horror for, as he looked with dazed and bewildered eyes down into the lurid courtyard beneath a savage man in a shining breastplate and steel cap came dragging the dark, silent figure of a woman across the stones whether she was dead or in a swoon, Otto could not tell and every moment the pulsing of that dull red glare from the windows of the building across the courtyard shone more brightly and the glare from other flaming buildings which Otto could not see from his window turned the black, starry night into a lurid day Just then the door of the room was burst open and inrushed poor old Ursula, crazy with her terror she flung herself down upon the floor and caught Otto around the knees Save me, she cried, save me as though the poor pale child could be of any help to her at such a time in the passageway without shown the light of torches and the sound of loud footsteps came nearer and nearer and still through all the din sounded continually the clash and clang and clamor of the great alarm bell The red light flashed into the room and in the doorway stood a tall, thin figure clad from head to foot in glittering chain armor from behind this fierce night with his dark, narrow, cruel face its deep-set eyes glistening in the light of the torches crowded six or eight savage, low-browed, brutal men who stared into the room and at the white-faced boy as he stood by the window with the old woman clinging to his knees and praying to him for help We've cracked the nut and here's the colonel said one of them who stood behind the rest and there upon a roar of brutal laughter went up But the cruel face of the armed knight never relaxed into a smile He strode into the room and laid his iron hand heavily upon the boy's shoulder Are thou the young baron Otto? said he in a harsh voice I said the lad But do not kill me The knight did not answer him Fetch the cord hither, said he and dragged the old witch away It took two of them to loosen poor old Ursula's crazy clutch from about her young master Then amid roars of laughter they dragged her away screaming and scratching and striking with her fists They drew back Otto's arms behind his back and wrapped them round and round with a bowstring Then they pushed and hustled and thrust him forth from the room and along the passageway now bright with the flames that roared and crackled without Down the steep stairway they drove him where thrice he stumbled and fell amid roars of laughter At last they were out into the open air of the courtyard Here was a terrible sight But Otto saw nothing of it His blue eyes were gazing far away and his lips moved to softly with the prayer that the good monks of St. Michael'sburg had taught him for he thought that they meant to slay him All around the courtyard the flames roared and snapped and crackled Four or five figures lay scattered here and there silent in all the glare and uproar The heat was so intense that they were soon forced back into the shelter of the Great Gateway where the women captives under the guard of three or four of the Trusdraken men were crowded together in dumb bewildered terror Only one man was to be seen among the captives Poor old half-blind master Rudolph, the steward who crouched tremblingly among the women They had set the blaze to Melchior's tower and now below it was a seething furnace Above the smoke rolled in black clouds from the windows but still the alarm bell sounded through all the blaze and smoke Higher and higher the flames rose a trickle of fire ran along the frame buildings hanging aloft in the air A clear flame burst out at the peak of the roof but still the bell rang forth its clamorous clanger Presently those who watched below saw the cluster of buildings bend and sink and sway There was a crash and roar, a cloud of sparks flew up as though to the very heavens themselves and the bell of Melchior's tower was stilled forever A great shout arose from the watching upturned faces Forward! cried Baron Henry and out from the gateway they swept and across the drawbridge leaving Drakenhausen behind them a flaming furnace blazing against the gray of the early dawning End of Chapter 7 Chapter 8 of Auto of the Silver Hand This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Tim Lundin Auto of the Silver Hand by Howard Pyle Chapter 8 In the House of the Dragon's Corner Tall, narrow, gloomy room No furniture but a rude bench a bare stone floor cold stone walls and a gloomy ceiling of arch stone overhead a long narrow slit of a window high above in the wall through the iron bars of which Auto could see a small patch of blue sky and now and then a darting swallow for an instant scene the next instant gone Such was the little barren's prison in Trudstrakken Fastened to a bolt and hanging against the walls hung a pair of heavy chains with gaping fetters at the ends They were thick with rust and the red stain of the rust streaked the wall below where they hung like a smear of blood Little Auto shuddered as he looked at them Can those be meant for me? he thought Nothing was to be seen but that one patch of blue sky far up in the wall No sound from without was to be heard in that gloomy cell of stone for the window pierced the outer wall and the earth and its noises lay far below Suddenly a door crashed without and the footsteps of men were heard coming along the corridor They stopped in front of Auto's cell He heard the jingle of keys and then a loud rattle of one thrust into the lock of the heavy oaken door The rusty bolt was shot back with a screech the door opened and there stood Baron Henry no longer in his armor but clad in a long black robe that reached nearly to his feet a broad leather belt was girdled about his waist from it dangled a short heavy hunting sword Another man was with the Baron a heavy-faced fellow clad in a leather jerkin over which was drawn a short coat of linked mail The two stood for a moment looking into the room and Auto, his pale face glimmering in the gloom sat upon the edge of the heavy wooden bench or bed looking back at them out of his great blue eyes Then the two entered and closed the door behind them Does thou know why thou art here? said the Baron in his deep harsh voice Nay, said Auto, I know not So, said the Baron, then I will tell thee Three years ago the good Baron Frederick, my uncle kneeled in the dust and besought mercy at thy father's hands The mercy he received was the coward blow that slew him And knowest the story I, said Auto, tremblingly I know it Then does thou not know why I am here? said the Baron Nay, dear Lord Baron, I know not said poor little Auto and began to weep The Baron stood for a moment or two looking gloomily upon him as the little boy sat there with the tears running down his white face I will tell thee, said he at last I swore in oath that the Redcock should crow and drakenhausen and I have given it to the dames I swore in oath that no wealth that ever left my hands should be able to strike such a blow as thy father gave to Baron Frederick and now I will fulfill that too Catch the boy, Casper, and hold him As the man in the male's shirt stepped toward little Auto the boy leaped up from where he sat and caught the Baron about the knees Oh, dear Lord Baron, he cried Do not harm me, I am only a little child I have never done harm to thee, do not harm me Take him away, said the Baron, harshly The fellow stooped and loosening Auto's hold in spite of his struggles and cries carried him to the bench against which he held him whilst the Baron stood above him Baron Henry and the other came forth from the cell carefully closing the wooden door behind him At the end of the corridor the Baron turned Let the leech be sent to the boy, said he and he turned and walked away Auto lay upon the hard couch in his cell covered with a shaggy bearskin His face was paler and thinner than ever and dark rings encircled his blue eyes He was looking toward the door for there was a noise of someone fumbling with the lock without Since that dreadful day when Baron Henry had come to his cell only two souls had visited Auto One was the fellow who had come with the Baron that time His name, Auto found, was Casper He brought the boy his rude meals of bread and meat and water The other visitor was the leech, or doctor a thin, liaisoned little man with a kindly wrinkled face and a gossiping tongue who besides binding wounds, bleeding and leaching and administering his simple remedies to those who were taken sick in the castle acted as the Baron's barber The Baron had left the key in the lock of the door so that these two might enter when they chose but Auto knew that it was neither one nor the other whom he now heard at the door working uncertainly with the key striving to turn it in the rusty cumbersome lock At last the bolts grated back there was a pause and then the door opened a little way and Auto thought that he could see someone peeping in from without By and by the door opened further there was another pause and then a slender, elfish looking little girl with straight black hair and shining black eyes crept noiselessly into the room She stood close by the door with her finger in her mouth staring at the boy where he lay upon his couch and Auto upon his part lay full of wonder gazing back upon the little elfin creature She seeing that he made no sign or motion stepped a little nearer and then after a moment's pause a little nearer still until at last she stood within a few feet of where he lay Art thou the barren Auto? said she Yes? answered Auto Prutt, she said and is that so? Why I thought that thou were to great tall fellow at least and here thou art a little boy no older than Karl Max the goose-herd Then after a little pause My name is Pauline and my father is the barren I heard him tell my mother all about thee and so I wanted to come here and see thee myself Art thou sick? Yes? said Auto I am sick and did my father hurt thee? I? said Auto and his eyes filled with tears until one sparkling drop trickled slowly down his white face Little Pauline stood looking seriously at him for a while I?m sorry for thee, Auto said she at last and then at her childish pity he began crying in earnest This was only the first visit of many from the little maid for after that she often came to Auto's prison who began to look for her coming from day to day as the one bright spot in the darkness and the gloom Sitting upon the edge of his bed and gazing into his face with wide open eyes she would listen to him by the hour as he told her of his life in that far away monastery home of poor simple brother John's wonderful visions of the good Abbot's books with their beautiful pictures and of all the monkish tales and stories of knights and dragons and heroes and emperors of ancient Rome which brother Immanuel had taught him to read in the crabbed monkish Latin in which they were written one day the little maid sat for a long while silent after he had ended speaking at last she drew a deep breath are at all these things that our tells me about the priests in their castle really true? said she yes said Auto all are true and do they never go out to fight other priests? no said Auto they know nothing of fighting so said she and then fell silent in the thought of the wonder of it all and that there should be men in the world that knew nothing of violence and bloodshed for in all the eight years of her life she had scarcely been outside of the walls of castle Truetstrakken at another time it was of Auto's mother that they were speaking and did Stow never see her Auto? said the little girl I said Auto I see her sometimes in my dreams and her face always shines so bright that I know she is an angel for brother John has often seen the dear angels and he tells me that their faces always shine in that way I saw her the night thy father hurt me so for I could not sleep and my head felt as though it would break asunder then she came and leaned over me I kissed my forehead and after that I fell asleep but where did she come from Auto? said the little girl from paradise I think said Auto with that patient seriousness that he had caught from the monks and that sat so quaintly upon him so said little Pauline and then after a pause that is why thy mother kissed thee when thy head ached because she is an angel when I was sick my mother Bade Gretchen carried me to a far part of the house because I cried and so troubled her did thy mother ever strike thee Auto? nay said Auto mine hath often struck me said Pauline one day little Pauline came bustling into Auto's cell her head full of the news which she carried my father says that thy father is out in the woods somewhere yonder in the castle for Fritz the swine herd told my father that last night he had seen a fire in the woods and that he had crept up to it without anyone knowing there he had seen the Baron Conrad and six of his men and that they were eating one of the swine that they had killed and roasted maybe said she seating herself upon the edge of Auto's couch maybe my father will kill thy father and they will bring him here and let him lie upon a black bed with bright candles burning around him as they did my Uncle Frederick when he was killed god forbid said Auto and then lay for a while with his hands clasped does thou love me Pauline? said he after a while yes said Pauline for thou art a good child though my father says that thy wits are cracked may hap they are said Auto simply for I have often been told so before but thou wouldst not see me die Pauline wouldst thou? nay said Pauline I would not see thee die for then thou couldst tell me no more stories and they told me that Uncle Frederick could not speak because he was dead then listen Pauline said Auto if I go not away from here I shall surely die every day I grow more sick and the leech cannot cure me here he broke down and turning his face upon the couch began crying while little Pauline sat looking seriously at him why does thou cry Auto? said she after a while because said he I am so sick and I want my father to come and take me away from here but why does thou want to go away? said Pauline if thy father takes thee away thou canst not tell me any more stories yes I can said Auto for when I grow to be a man I will come again and marry thee and when thou art my wife I can tell thee all the stories that I know dear Pauline canst thou not tell my father where I am that he may come here and take me away before I die maybe I could do so said Pauline after a little while for sometimes I go with Casper Max to see his mother who nursed me when I was a baby she's the wife of Fritz, the swine herd and she will make him tell thy father for she will do whatever I ask of her and Fritz will do whatever she bids of him and for my sake will thou tell him Pauline? said Auto but see Auto said the little girl if I tell him will thou promise to come indeed and marry me when thou art a grown man? yes said Auto very seriously I will promise then I will tell thy father where thou art she said but thou will do it without the Baron Henry knowing will thou not Pauline? yes said she for if my father and my mother knew that I did such a thing they would strike me may have sent me to my bed alone in the dark Chapter 8