Chapter III: Adversity

DAYS of trial were now approaching. A bad season caused the produce of the land and garden to fail. Poor Gaspard was obliged to sell the cow to pay the taxes. This sacrifice was made without a murmur. He and his wife knew from whom the trial came, and patiently submitted, still putting their trust in One who had never yet forsaken them. This trouble was followed by another. Gaspard fell ill, and was unable to work. Katherine's time was taken up in attendance on her husband, so that the poultry-yard was neglected, and want and distress threatened to take the place of the ease and comfort in which the little family had hitherto lived.

Poor Katherine was forced to incur debts to procure what was necessary for her husband. The winter season was approaching, and there appeared to be but little prospect of their being able to pay the taxes, which they knew would be rigorously exacted.

Gaspard and his wife endeavoured to cheer and encourage each other; but at times their hearts ached, and their spirits sank at the prospect before them.

It was now the month of October, and for the first time for many many months Gaspard was able to go in the little tilted cart to the neighbouring town for some things of which his family stood in need. Michael and John accompanied their father, the little Francis remaining alone with Katherine, who devoted the day to washing and repairing such things as she had not had leisure to attend to during her husband's illness. On opening a press to take out some articles of linen which had lain by some time, Francis' little cap caught her eye; it had become somewhat discoloured by, lying by, though the star retained its lustre. She took it out and placed it apart on the table, with the intention of getting rid first of such articles as would require more time and care.

Whilst thus busily occupied, Katherine was startled by a loud clap of thunder, which was quickly followed by another, and then the rain came down in torrents, accompanied by vivid flashes of lightning.

Poor Katherine trembled for her husband and children, and was anxiously watching for any sign of the storm abating, when the door of the cottage was hastily opened, and a lady richly dressed entered. Katherine perceived at once that it was the wife of the dreaded steward.

"Will you give me shelter till the storm is over?" she asked.

"Willingly, madam," replied Katherine; "I wish I had been better prepared to receive you." She then hastened to offer her best chair to her visitor, and carefully wiped the wet from her dress and mantle.

The little Francis soon attracted the lady's attention.

"Is that beautiful child yours?" she inquired; "he is not a bit like you. But what have you there?" she added, addressing the boy, who was playing with the little cap, his attention having been caught by the star. Katherine desired the child to go and show it to the lady.

"The lace is beautiful," she observed; "where did you get it, and what this silver star mean?"

Katherine was by no means pleased at being thus rudely questioned, nor was she inclined to satisfy her visitor's curiosity. She therefore replied shortly that it had come into her husband's possession during the siege of Metz, and that he had given it to her.

"Well," said the lady, "it can be of no use to you; I should like it for my youngest child. I will give you any price you like to ask for it."

"Madam," replied Katherine, "we value this little cap, and cannot part with it; indeed, we ought not to do so."

"My good woman," interrupted the lady angrily, "this cap can be of no use to you,—I desire to have it; you will do well to consider before you refuse me."

She was well aware of the troubles which had lately come upon Gaspard and his family, and believed that they would in consequence be afraid of offending her.

Poor Katherine was now much distressed; she knew full well the power the steward possessed of injuring them, and yet she was firm in her determination of not parting with the cap.

"Madam," said she, clasping her hands, as if in entreaty, "I will do anything else to oblige you; but I cannot part with that cap;—pardon me for refusing?"

The lady rose angrily, and throwing the cap on the ground, she said,—"You shall pay dear for this insolence;" and without giving Katherine time to reply, indignantly left the cottage, in spite of the rain which still fell heavily.

Katherine sank on a seat, and covering her face with her hands wept bitterly. She knew she had acted rightly, but naturally feared the consequences. If only her husband had been at home, she would have felt less cast down. Poor little Francis clung to her, endeavouring by his childish caresses to comfort her, though unable to comprehend the cause of her grief. He picked up the little cap and laid it on her lap, and then laid his own fair head upon it. Katherine placed her hand fondly on the bright curls, though her tears still fell fast.

It was not long before Gaspard and his two boys returned; they had luckily obtained shelter during the storm.

On learning the cause of his wife's distress, the poor man, though equally fearing the consequences which might result from what had occurred, at once re-assured her by saying,—

"Dear wife, whatever may happen, you have done right; we must keep that cap. It alone can ever lead to any discovery of the parents of our little Francis. We should do wrong to part with it."

Gaspard knew well they had little to hope from the steward's clemency; still he would not seek to please him or his wife at the risk of injuring their adopted child.

Time passed on, but a few days remained in which to make up the amount of the taxes, and Gaspard had not a third of the sum required, he knew not how to obtain it.

Meanwhile the steward's wife exerted all her influence to exasperate her husband against Gaspard, relating what had occurred when she was driven to take shelter in his cottage, and falsely accusing Katherine of insolence and rudeness. She wickedly resolved to wreak her vengeance on the unhappy family, and to obtain by force what she could not possess herself of in any justifiable way.

She succeeded but too well,—her husband, ever ready to exercise his arbitrary power, summoned Gaspard to pay the taxes due, threatening at the same time to seize his goods if he did not pay at the given time.

The day before the one appointed arrived, and at the last moment poor Gaspard set out to endeavour to borrow even a part of the sum required from a farmer with whom he had had some dealings. He went with a heavy heart, and with but faint hopes of success; still he would not leave a chance untried.

Night came, and Gaspard did not appear!

Poor Katherine knew not what to think.

Had he met with any one likely to help him, or had he fallen ill whilst seeking for assistance?

The night was passed in too great anxiety for the poor woman to be able to sleep, and she anxiously watched for the return of day.

Alas! it only brought fresh trouble to the once happy home! The steward himself appeared, peremptorily demanded the money due to his lord, overwhelmed the terrified Katherine with reproaches for her conduct to his wife, and refused in consequence to grant any delay, or even to await Gaspard's return.

He failed not to carry out his cruel purpose. He had scarcely left the cottage ere a bailiff and his men entered it;—they were plainly at hand ready to do the steward's bidding. These men at once laid a distress upon all the house contained, in the name of the Count de Sternfelden. The unhappy Katherine was too much frightened and overcome by this barbarous violence to offer the slightest resistance. She saw herself and family suddenly and unjustly despoiled of all that had been acquired by years of labour and economy.

Pale and trembling, she leant against the wall, watching the road by which Gaspard would return with Michael and John, who had accompanied him. Little Francis clung to her, asking why their beds, tables, and even clothes were being taken away. The poor little fellow cried bitterly when he saw his own little cap seized upon with the rest. The little cap, which had been so carefully treasured, in the fond hope that it might some day benefit their adopted child, if not themselves, seemed to be one cause of the heavy calamity which had now come upon them.

In the midst of this sad scene Gaspard and his two boys entered their hitherto quiet home.

The poor man had been unable to obtain any assistance, but returned with the hope that he might, at least, be granted a little longer time in which to raise the sum required. Great, therefore, was his dismay and surprise at finding his home half-stripped of its contents, and Katherine and the little Francis weeping bitterly.

The sight of her husband seemed to arouse Katherine from the state of terror and despair in which he found her. Leaning on his arm for support, she related to him all that had occurred during his absence.

The poor man gave way to a burst of anger and indignation.

"Katherine," he exclaimed, whilst tears started from his eyes, "such wickedness cannot go unpunished. I will seek the Count, were it even to the end of the world, and demand justice I will denounce the man who so cruelly oppresses all over whom he has any power."

Poor Katherine wept silently on her husband's shoulder.

"Oh, Gaspard," said she, "what will become of us, without a home, without bread, almost without clothes, winter approaching, and no one to befriend us?"

Gaspard was now more composed.

"Dear wife," said he, putting his arm fondly around her, "take courage; we must not despair. Amidst the dangers and horrors of war, God has always protected us. He will do so still. He will not forsake those who trust in Him."

The unhappy couple then seated themselves on one of the few seats left them, to consider what they could do to alleviate their present destitute condition, and to provide for the future; they had never before found themselves without a home, or the means of subsistence.

Gaspard was firmly resolved to seek the Count, and proposed that his eldest boy should accompany him, whilst Katherine, with the two other boys, might endeavour to obtain a temporary shelter with a sister of his, who, he believed, was settled at Ponnering, a town at no great distance from Feldsberg. Whilst considering this project, some one knocked at the door of the now desolate dwelling. On opening it, Dame Christine, a good and kind neighbour, for whom Katherine had done many kind services, entered.

"God of mercy!" she cried, as she cast a look of dismay around the half-dismantled room; "It is then true, and that bad man has done this cruel deed."

Katherine was unable to reply.

"Yes, good neighbour," said Gaspard, "it is indeed true; he has deprived us of everything,—we cannot remain here."

He then explained to Christine his project of seeking the Count, to inform him of the steward's harsh conduct towards himself, as well as the oppression complained of by all on the estate.

Dame Christine listened with much interest, and warmly approved of Gaspard's intention, saying it was time the Count should be made aware of the frequent acts of oppression and injustice committed in his name.

The good woman then insisted on Gaspard and his family taking shelter in her cottage, cordially offering to share all she had with them. She was sure they required, not only food, but rest, and would take no denial.

Katherine clasped the kind woman's hands to express her gratitude, whilst Gaspard said, with tears in his eyes—

"You see we are not forsaken; go with our good neighbour. I will follow you quickly, but I will see the steward first."

Katherine would have dissuaded her husband from this; but he was firm in his purpose, and at once started for the castle.

On arriving there, he was shown into the presence of the steward; he was sitting in an apartment as richly furnished as if it had been occupied by the Count himself.

"What is your business?" he haughtily inquired, as Gaspard entered.

"I come to demand justice," said Gaspard sternly; "you are placed here to protect the noble Count's rights and property, not to commit acts of cruel injustice. You have seized my goods, my land, and dwelling. They are worth ten times the sum I owe. Neither the tears nor the prayers of my wife moved you to show us any mercy. You have deprived us of food, clothes, and shelter. All this you have done to show your power, and to gratify your wife's desire for revenge. I now tell you that I go to seek the Count, your lord as well as mine. If necessary, I will follow him from place to place, till I can tell him not only of your treatment of me, but of many others, who have been hardly dealt with."

So saying, and without awaiting a reply, Gaspard quitted the room.

The steward had listened in mute astonishment; no one had ever so addressed and threatened him before. He was half inclined to summon an attendant, and to desire that Gaspard should be recalled. His pride, however, forbade that; he would not condescend to dispute with one who had so braved and outraged him. At the same time, he dreaded lest Gaspard should put his threat into execution, and make his conduct known to the Count. For some time he paced the room, uncertain how to act, but at last quieted his fears with the belief that Gaspard would not carry out his purpose. "And if he does," he exclaimed aloud, "I need not fear; he will not be believed. My wife's sister, who was one of the Countess's women, will be there to deny any tale against me."

Meanwhile poor Gaspard rejoined his wife and children at the good Christine's, who had done what she could for the comfort of those whom she had so hospitably sheltered.

After the trying events of the day, all were glad to retire early to rest. Gaspard and Katherine decided, ere they did so, on setting out the next day, so as not to trespass longer than necessary on their good neighbour's kindness.