sheathed his weapon, and resumed his seat, while the serjeant continued-" If ye cannot sit here in peace, get to your cribs. Thou, Hans Horst, hast a tongue that would anger St. Bernhard himself. I would advise thee to keep a guard over it, or it may one day bring thee to the halberds. Comrades, have ye no song, or a 'merry tale to tell?" "Soldiers have no time to hear idle stories, serjeant," replied Hans, who had not been long in the troop, and was noted for his mischievous and quarrelsome disposition. His deportment was superior to that of his comrades, who looked upon him as some nobleman's son, who had been disinherited by his father for some real or pretended fault. "Short time have they for merry tales," continued he;" and if they have, they are all on the same subject-full of oaths, curses, match-locks, culverins, drums, trumpets, sabres, and daggers; not forgetting a sprinkle of broken costards and slit weazans. Hagel and Sturmwater! we have of late had enough o' that, methinks." "Thou art a prating knave," replied the serjeant; "thou should'st have been made a doctor o' laws. The Devil never had a better subject.' "Ah! ah! ah!" laughed Hans,"think ye so?" and his lip curled with a scornful smile" Then I'm in my proper place, among men who cut throats for a few groschen per diem !" "Nay, nay," replied the serjeant, "thou art abusing thine own trade wrongfully-ye reckon not the honour." "Honour!" interrupted Hans, while his countenance again assumed its bitter smile. "Honour! ah! ah! ah!-Honour, master serjeant; and what is that but the bright steel, which the breath of any villain may sully. Pray, how keep ye that dainty article ?" "Thou art a shrewd caviller, Hans Horst," said the serjeant," and art read in the books of the wise men: thank heaven, I cannot read our muster-roll. I am puzzled to think what could induce thee to enter our troop; for I am sometimes inclined to think thee of gentle blood." "Honour, master serjeant," replied Hans ironically, and with his usually wild and peculiar laugh" I gained mine honour once in the University of Gottingen; but I've lost it somehow, probably among our company;" and he looked significantly at his companions. "Well done, bully Hans!" roared one of the troop, a young fellow nained Albrecht Kreutzer; 66 so thou hast lost thy good name among us, ay?-Why, thou mischievous dog, thou hast corrupted the whole troop, who, instead of thumbing their prayer-books, and chaunting their hymns, rattle the dice box, and sing such songs as thou hast introduced-I leave thee to confess what they are." Albrecht spoke truly Hans had certainly set an example of profligacy and impiety to the whole troop, and over no one of them did he possess greater influence than over Albrecht Kruetzer. Indeed Horst had made him as bad as himself, or nearly so; so that they were both dreaded and despised by their comrades, who, daring and reckless as they were, could never behold Hans without a mixed feeling of awe and disgust. Albrecht was an excellent swordsman, and had come off victorious in several encounters. There was a sort of companionship between the pair, who were seldom separate; and once, in an engagement, Hans bore off his wounded comrade, who lay at the mercy of the enemy, after striking down all who opposed him. Horst, as he received this pretended rebuke, which was given in a bantering tone, smiled sarcastically, and replied "I am no snuffling priest, and cannot look sanctified when the wine flaggon or a pretty wench is near-Such an one as this, for instance." He turned round as he spoke, and addressed some impudent remark to a young girl who had entered the room with some liquor for the troop. She was the host's daughter, a comely German lass, who had already engaged the affections of a young peasant in the neighbourhood. Hans attemped to salute her, when Albrecht started up, and hurling him aside, threw his arm round the girl's neck, and imprinted a kiss upon her lips, when at the same instant he found himself rudely seized from behind. Turning quickly round, he perceived a young man who had entered the room, and who now dealt him a smart buffet on the cheek. Enraged at this insult, the young soldier attempted to draw his sword, when Hans Horst interposed. "Hold, comrade," said he, “ your man is unarmed-wait till to-morrow and give him a fair field, like a soldier: with a proper division of wind and sun.' Ay, when it pleases ye, Sirs," said the young man, "I am for you where 66 My comrade will give you the meeting," said Hans eagerly.- "We will meet you under the old tower in the meadow yonder, by sunrise.-What say ye Albrecht Kreutzer ?" "I will," said Albrecht sullenly, "and there I'll drill such an oilet-hole in thy jerkin as shall teach thee to give a blow to one of his Highness's hackbutteers." "You will find me ready," said his rival, cooly, as he quitted the room with the maiden, who with tears besought him to abandon his intention. We must leave the peasant Wilhelm and his love, and return to the troop, who were now engaged in conversing upon a new topic, the approaching combat. In a short time, Hans Horst and Albrecht, who had been in close conversation, left the room, taking with them their hackbutts and lighted matches. "Comrade," said the former to his companion, as they gained the street, "I have been thinking of a plan, by adopting which ye may come off scathless, and revenge yourself by shooting your rival through the heart. Come, taste of this flask, 'tis a cordial for those who travel in the night, and has saved me from many a cold. Albrecht took the flask, which he half emptied. "Here," said he, giving it back to Hans, " 'tis the right schnapps ;--but how can'st thou bring me through this business without danger!" "Harkee, comrade," said his compa nion," thou knowest I am possessed of more knowledge than the noisy fools in our troop-dost thou think that knewledge was gained without trouble?" I understand you not," said Albrecht, staring at the erect and gallant figure of his companion, who stalked down the The HACKBUTT was a large match-lock, fired with a rest. Many German Hackbutteers were in the pay of the princes of Europe from the time of the invention of firearms, to the reign of Elizabeth, and even later. Sir Walter Scott has a beautiful and graphic de scription of the Hackbutteers in his poem of the Lay of the Last Minstrel. Speaking of Conrade and his band of mercenaries, he says, They were not armed like England's sons, But bore the levin-darting guns. Meaning the HACKBUTT, or, as Hollinshed and others wrote it, HAQUEBUT. The Ger mans and Flemings formerly excelled in the management of this heavy and unwieldy engine, which was not generally adopted in England until after the invention of the wheel-lock, which was wound up with a key called a span ner, and ignited the powder by its friction in rapidly revolving. 66 Ay, a charmed gun. The one thou bearest may be made so, if thy heart be stout." "I have heard of such things," said Albrecht, when a child; but among men the story is laughed at." 66 Ay, ay; that which all are possessed of is of little value. This I would give thee is meant for none but the bold and fearless. Can'st thon procure a holy wafer or host, as your monk calls it? The thing before which your pious prostrate themselves." "What would'st thou with it?" inquired the astonished Albrecht. Hans made stand and grounded his hackbutt. Simply this, comrade," said he, "I would have you place it against a tree, fire upon it, and as you shoot, abjure the Trinity." "Never," said Albrecht, firmly,"thou hast led me into the commission of many a sin;-ay, many crimes; my soul sometimes shrinks at the remembrance of them-Away with thee, thou tempter, and seek not to destroy my "Pshaw! then I've mistaken thee, Albrecht. Can the simple act of firing upon that which your Englishman and Hollander now look upon as a piece of paganism, be endangering thy soul? By this belt I am ashamed of thee. Guten nicht, faint heart," he shouldered his hack butt as he spoke, and was walking away, when Albrecht said 66 Stay friend Hans, a word with thee, I will consider of this by to-morrow." 93 "To-morrow, said Hans Horst, sneeringly, "to-morrow at sun-rise thou wilt in all probability, be worms' meat; for, harkee, I am one who can read the stars; thy destiny is known to me; tomorrow is a black day for thee; yet thou may'st escape it, but the chances are against thy coming off harmless. Ingrate too, was it for this I saved thy life in t'other day's ruffle." A long pause ensued, Albrecht leant on his piece and mused for several moments. "Come," said his companion, impatiently, "have you resolved? The night is cold, and I am getting chilly; here, take another schnapps." The soldier drained the proferred flask. but was still irresolute-he looked around him, all was dark and dreary, and no light appeared in sight save a pale glimmer from some sick chamber. The moon was hidden, not a star was to be seen, and the wind blew in strong gusts, which made the lighted matches of Albrecht and his companion burn briskly. "Come, come, Albrecht Kreutzer," said Hans, "our matches are burning away, the night advances, and we may not procure a wafer." "Well, as thou wilt," replied Albrecht, but how may we obtain the thing you speak of-and when obtained, how shall I find the heart to lift my hackbutt against our Lord's body?" "Pshaw! cease this childish nonsense comrade; 'tis folly, believe me; I am one who would stand thy friend, ay, thy real friend, in time of need. Come, shake off this mummery, and follow me; or, if thou wilt, return to the inn and rise to-morrow, a fair mark for your adversary, who will, perhaps, be contented if he wings you, and spoils your soldiership for ever. Would it not be a glorious thing to have the whole place point thee out as the hack butteer, the bold soldier, who was spoiled by the hand of a loggerhead peasant?" 66 By heaven, I cannot bear it!" exclaimed Albrecht, "lead on, comrade." "Spoken like a true son of Mars," cried Hans Horst, grasping the hand of Albrecht, "follow me." During this dialogue, Albrecht, absorbed in his own reflections, did not perceive the approach of two figures, who were advancing towards him, and as he and his companion walked on again, followed them cautiously. It was not long before a light appeared at a little distance before them, when Hans slapping Albrecht on the shoulder, cried, "This is lucky, comrade, yonder comes that we are seeking. Here is a fat priest coming to shrive some dying wretch, whose conscience pricks him at the last struggle; forward, comrade, and seize the host from the boy who is with him. Remember thy life and thy honor both depend upon it!" The next moment they came up with the priest, and Albrecht, springing upon the boy, extinguished the light; seized the host, which he thrust into his bosom ; and then fled with his companion. After running to some distance, they left the village behind them, and Hans called to his companion to stop. "Hast thou got it my valiant heart?" Ay," replied Albrecht, taking the wafer from his bosom. "Then quick, follow me to yon wood on the other side of this meadow; haste, or we may experience interruption." Setting forward again, they stopped not till they had reached the middle of the wood, when Hans made a stand. 66 "Quick," said Hans, up with your target, and the thing will be done in an instant: you can fasten the wafer against the tree with your dagger." Albert thrust his dagger through the host and stuck it against a huge oak, then retreating a few paces, he placed his rest in the ground, and laid his hackbutt upon it. "Why dost thou hesitate, comrade ?" said Horst, perceiving him irresolute, "dost thou fear the shot?-draw your trigger and fire." 66 I cannot," replied Albrecht, in a faultering tone, "the host appears to move-a cloud floats before mine eyes, the fiend himself seems to look at me from the tree. Oh! Hans Horst, I cannot shoot." "Ah! ah! ah! ah!" laughed Hans, "fool! pitiful minion! I renounce thee as my friend; to-morrow the peasant Wilhelm's hand will remove thee from my sight, thou chicken hearted hind!" But," said Albrecht, attempting to speak. 66 "Answer me not," said his companion," I will not listen to thee, thou heartless slave. Can this act endanger thy soul? If so, what think ye is prepared for those, (and they are thousands) who believe not in the monkish mystery? The man whose eyes are open laughs at such mummery !" "But the words thou wouldst have me repeat, I cannot utter them." "Pshaw! pitiful fool!" cried Hans, "I took thee for a man of sense and courage; away, I know thee now!" "Nay, nay, reproach me not, I'll fire at once," and he levelled his hackbutt at the host. Voices were again heard, and a rustling among the leaves and brushwood at a little distance. "Quick, quick," said Hans, "Batti il ferro mentre e caldo,' as the Italian has it,-fire!" At that moment, Albrecht's finger pressed the trigger We have before mentioned that Albrecht and his companion were tracked by two persons. These were Ruprecht Steinbergen and the serjeant, Ernest Freylinghauson, who fearing that Hans was endeavouring to persuade Albrecht to revenge himself in some secret manner, had stolen from the inn and followed them unperceived. As they approached Albrecht and his companion, they could hear, though but indistinctly, that Horst was exerting his influence over him. Resolving to discover the plot, the serjeant and Ruprecht followed at their heels, though with great caution, when, on a sudden, they perceived Albrecht spring_upon the boy who carried the host. This act confirmed their worst fears, for Ruprecht, who was an old soldier, guessed the reason of the sacriligeous robbery. + "By heaven," exclaimed he, "Horst will work his ruin, I foretold that he would be the death of one of our troop before long. The villain too, to seek to destroy our comrade's soul; forward, serjeant, and let us warn the mad boy of his danger." "With all my heart," said the ser jeant. "Hark! I hear their footsteps, to the right, forward." They both ran with all speed in the same direction as Albrecht and Horst had fled, and perceived through the gloom that they were crossing the meadow. "They are making for yon wood," said Ruprecht, "hasten, or it may be too late." Quickening their pace, they reached the wood, and as they entered it, they distinctly heard the rustling of the branches in the direction which Hans and his companion had taken, when on a sudden the sound ceased, and they had now nothing to guide them. They advanced cautiously, when the voices of two persons were heard apparently in altercation. "That is the voice of Hans," said the serjeant, "I know his wild laugh too—” At this moment a bright flash illumined the forest, and the report of a hackbutt rung through its deepest recesses; it was followed by a number of reports in quick succession, and then a loud peal of wild and unearthly laughter was borne on the night wind, and caught up by a thousand echoes. "Heaven shield us!" ejaculated the serjeant-" it is too late. What horrid laugh was that?" Hark!" said Ruprecht-" 'tis the fiend exulting over his victim. Do'st thou not hear that faint cry of distress-that sound of struggling? It has ceasedback! back! if ye would not look upon the fiend himself!" The serjeant and his companion precipitately retreated, and regaining the inn, related the whole to their comrades. The wild tale spread through the village, which continued in a state of alarm until the morning, when at sun-rise several of the troop proceeded to the forest, in the hope of discovering something which might tell them, the fate of their rash comrade. After a short search, they discovered the body of a man clad in the dress of their troop, but the features were too horribly mutilated to enable them to discern any traces of humanity. His hackbutt had burst to pieces! and every charge on his bandalier had exploded! His dagger was stuck in a tree at about twelve paces from the body, but the host was no where to be seen. The mutilated corse was all that remained of the daring and ill-fated Albrecht. Hans, the shrewd, subtle, bully Hans, was never seen again!. MUSIC. J. Y. A- --N. (For the Olio.) Lost in the windings of a vision's maze; A nymph came smiling on tire southern breeze, E'en insects crawl'd to listen to the swell But soon she took a pipe and breath'd a sound, charms; The maiden's heart seem'd melted into love, As the fond cadence danced along the grove; While the strong youth, with fire in his soul, Gave all his powers up to its soft controul; And all the man seem'd, angel-like, to rise, Borne on the strain, towards the listening skies; The hoary sage felt younger'd by the tune, The strain delightful echoed through the air, With healing balsams to the mental frame; Madness ceased raving, as the numbers came Grief felt her sorrows soften into peace, And all the gnawing pangs of mem'ry cease; Hope bent her ear, and caught the quavering sound, And reach'd the heart in one enraptured bound s Joy then came smiling, and attuned the thought To Join the concert which the nymph had brought! Nor did the passions from its influence fly, And now the nymph had ceased to bless mankind, And floated upwards on the morning wind: Blew their mock melody both long and loud; |