CHAPTER V.

THE MARTYR SPIRIT.

HANS never found his days too long; he had lessons to learn when his master did not require his services, and besides this, he practised shooting at the target. The festival was to be held in August, when the Burgomaster invited all the boys of Kösen to enter their names among the lists of competitors for his prize, and Karl Schmidt advised him to try for it, promising to give him instruction in archery.

The toll-keeper's cottage stood alone in quiet nook, and behind it a pathway ran up a slope—which was richly carpeted with flowers and furze, with here and there an old tree standing—on to higher ground, where was a pretty pine-wood with rustic seats placed in all directions for the accommodation of visitors. This spot commanded a delightful view of the town of Kösen and its winding river.

Hans was able to set up his target behind the toll-house, and practise there under the superintendence of his master, who had shot well in his youthful days, and who not only gave him lessons in the art, but furnished his pupil with his own bow and arrows. No sort of teaching came amiss to Hans; he was naturally so clever that he soon mastered difficulties, for he gave his whole attention to whatever he undertook.

"They say that Hans Richter has entered his name on the list of competitors for the Burgomaster's prize," said Paul Ebhardt to his friend Robert. "Do you mean to let him win it away from you?"

"He is not likely to get it," answered Robert. "He is only a raw fellow from the forest who has had no practice; I'm not afraid of him."

"I say he means to win," said Paul. "I am told he has put his target on the low ground by the toll-house and that he practises there every evening, and Karl Schmidt helps him. My father says Karl knows what he is about; some years ago he was the best shot in Kösen."

"For all that, I'm not afraid," replied Robert.

"Don't be such a dolt!" exclaimed his friend, angrily. "I detest Hans, and I can't think what you mean by being so careless over your prize. I suppose if he wins it away from you, you will say, Thank you."

"No, indeed I shan't," answered Robert, with some spirit. "But," he added, more quietly, "he'll stand no chance, never fear."

"You don't know how well he shoots. Come with me this evening, and let us watch him. And then you will better understand that you will be beaten if you don't take care."

Accordingly, that evening Paul and his friend secreted themselves behind a tree which stood very near to the target, where they could see, yet not be seen, without running any risk of being struck by a stray arrow.

It was well that Karl Schmidt was present, otherwise Paul would have done his best to excite his friend to pick a quarrel with Hans. Robert found that the arrows went near the bull's-eye, and even into its centre now and then—showing that Hans had a correct eye, and only needed to persevere in order to equal if not excel him.

Every time he shot an arrow, Paul whispered triumphantly, "I told you he would be a match for you."

Yes, certainly Robert had a rival to fear.

When Hans and his master went into the cottage, the friends emerged from their hiding-place. Paul's face expressed his gladness, for he saw that Robert was more annoyed and vexed than he had ever seen him before. So, instead of deriding his companion, he changed his tactics and began to pity him.

"Old fellow," he said, laying his hand on Robert's shoulder, "I'm sorry for you. He is sure to win, and you'll lose. It is a great shame that this fellow who is a stranger in Kösen, should put himself forward and gain a prize from our Burgomaster, over one who belongs to our town."

"But he has not won it yet. And what is more, he shall not win it," said Robert—"that is, if I can beat him."

"You may try, but as sure as my name is Paul Ebhardt, so sure am I he'll win; so make up your mind to lose. His hand is more steady and his eye more correct than yours; he only wants practice."

"He will not win the prize," said Robert, confidently.

"He ought not to, but I am afraid he will succeed. I wish, with all my heart, we could contrive some means of preventing him from shooting in the match."

"Shall we go to the Burgomaster and say that he is a stranger here, and that we pray he will only permit our Kösen boys to compete?"

"No; that won't do exactly. The Burgomaster will tell you that he can make no rules of the kind. Perhaps I shall think of some other plan. I have to pay the rascal off for insulting me."

Paul felt he had a right to annoy Hans, and he wanted to be revenged on him,—forgetting he had in the first instance thrown down the gauntlet, and that, before that unfortunate encounter by the river-side, he had no real reason to dislike him.

It was on Saturday evening when the friends watched Hans Richter shoot; we will see in what spirit they awoke on Sunday morning.

Robert's first thoughts were these: "I'll lose no time, but practise hard, so that I may enter into fair competition with Richter—for, after all, he has as much right to try for the Burgomaster's prize as I have, but he is not going to succeed." Away from his friend he was more inclined to act fairly towards Hans.

Paul Ebhardt's waking thoughts were these: "That fellow, Richter, shall not have the prize if I can make him lose it. This shall be my revenge for his behaviour to me. I must try and work out some plan to prevent him from winning, for I see he is very anxious to be first. But how it's to be done I don't exactly know. There are, fortunately, some days before the festival."

To Hans, this Sunday morning brought very different feelings. When he awoke, he remembered it was God's own day, and that he would hear the gospel of Jesus Christ preached in the old church. He would go to a Bible-class in the afternoon, and the remainder of the day would be spent with Frau Schmidt and his master.

The hours sped along only too quickly for him. And as soon as he had taken afternoon coffee to the invalid and his master, he joined them, Bible in hand.

Frau Schmidt had been unusually well, and had enjoyed the beautiful summer day from her open window; the air was so still, the sun so bright, and the peace and rest of the scene without harmonised so well with the abiding sense of peace and rest which filled her own soul. Though she was unable to go beyond her bedroom, she was thankful to be able to sit in her comfortable arm-chair and enjoy the pretty landscape.

"I have something very interesting to read to you," said Karl Schmidt, as Hans entered the room. "You will be surprised to hear that it has to do with a fête and that I mean to give you a holiday to attend it."

"Thank you, sir, but please tell me something about the fête before you begin to read."

"It is called a 'cherry feast.' The reason why this name is given to it, I will explain later."

"Where is it held, sir?"

"At Naumburg, a town about five miles from here. Thither many young men and maidens, as well as old folks and children, repair on the 28th of July. The name of John Huss, the great reformer, is associated with this fête. Do you know who he was?"

"No, sir."

"I thought, if you approved, mother, I would read Hans an account of this good man, because he will learn from it how much a true Christian can endure, who rests entirely on his Saviour."

"Do, Karl; I shall enjoy listening to it," answered Frau Schmidt. "John Huss was a very great man, and above all, great in his abounding love towards God. He cared not for prison, nor chains, nor mockings. His persecutors could not hurt his soul, however much they might inflict pain on his body. Read on, Karl."

"John Huss was born at Hussineez, a town on the borders of Bavaria, in July, 1369. His parents were poor, and he was early accustomed to do hard work and take very sparingly of food. At the age of twenty-seven he entered the university of Prague, and at the close of the 14th century became confessor to Sophia, Queen of Bohemia, and preacher in what was called the Bethlehem Chapel, attached to the university.

"Wycliffe, who has been justly styled the greatest of all reformers before the Reformation, was at this time creating a formidable revolution in the religious life of England and Scotland by his preaching, and writing; nor was it long before this new teaching penetrated to the Continent, and spread even into Bohemia, where it stirred the spirits of some good men. Among the number was John Huss, who said, when speaking of the effect of these writings of Wycliffe on his mind, 'I am drawn to them by the manner in which they strive to lead all men back to Christ.'

"In the year 1414 Huss was charged with teaching heresy, and summoned by the Emperor Sigismund to appear before the Council of Constance. He obeyed the summons, and went in the strength of God, having besought of his Heavenly Father wisdom to answer his accusers and strength to remain firm to his Saviour. The Emperor furnished him with a letter to ensure his safe-conduct; and, accompanied by several friends, he set out to Constance, and reached that town on the 3rd of November.

"He was permitted to remain unmolested during four weeks; and that time he employed in freely explaining his opinions and entreating to be heard publicly. But such was not the intention of his enemies, for on the 28th of November he was thrown into a dungeon; nor did the Emperor interfere, in spite of his promise, beyond procuring poor Huss a more airy prison.

"For seven months he remained in confinement, and during this period his health became greatly impaired from the rigorous treatment he received at the hands of his tormentors. In the month of June he was brought before the Council, and ordered to abjure errors which he had never believed. Nor was it only on one occasion, for four times did Huss appear before these cruel men. 'How can I abjure what I never held?' he asked repeatedly.

"After his fourth appearance the Council gave him a choice of two things—recantation or death; and sent him back to prison to deliberate as to which of the two he would accept.

"But Huss needed no time for deliberation; he made his choice when he determined to know only Christ, and Him crucified; and he never proved false to his Master, though his friends entreated him to save his life at any cost. 'I write in prison and chains,' he says in a letter to some friends, 'expecting to-morrow to receive sentence of death, but full of hope in God that I shall not swerve from the truth, nor abjure errors imputed to me by false witnesses.'

"The sentence of death was soon passed upon John Huss. It was read to him in the presence of the Emperor and Council. The persecuted man fell on his knees, and cried, 'Lord Jesus, forgive my enemies. Thou knowest I have been falsely accused by them; forgive them for the sake of Thy great mercy.'

"His persecutors answered this prayer with loud laughter and shouts of derision, which followed him even to the place of execution. When he was heavily laden with chains and led to the stake, he exclaimed, 'I willingly wear these for Christ's sake, who bore still more grievous ones.'

"Before the fire was kindled he was again besought to recant. 'What error should I recant,' he cried, 'when I am conscious of none? The chief aim of my preaching has been to teach men repentance and the forgiveness sins, according to the truth of the gospel of Jesus Christ.'

"So the fire was kindled, and the smoke and flames rose around him; but in the midst of it all his voice was heard, and these were his words: 'Jesus, Son of the living God, have mercy on me.'"

Hans drew a deep sigh when Karl closed the little book from which he had been reading.

"What a grand death to die!" he said. "It reminds me of the martyr Stephen. I've been reading about him to-day. He fell asleep in Jesus after he had cried with a loud voice, 'Lord, lay not this sin to their charge.' I wonder if I could forgive my enemies like that!"

"Yes, my dear boy, you could, if you were sticking to the Raft," said Frau Schmidt. "The law of forgiveness was taught these good men by their blessed Master, and they were His followers. Methinks that Master's words were yet ringing in the ears of Stephen, 'Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.' He found it no hard task to pray, as did his Lord, that his cruel tormentors might be forgiven."

"I see it all," answered Hans; "mother's words must be felt in my heart if I mean them to come out in my life. I must really 'stick to the Raft' so tightly that God's promises will be mine. But, sir, I don't quite understand what the death of John Huss has to do with the fête."

"I am going to tell you now," answered Karl; "I only waited until my mother had spoken. In the year 1482, Procopius, the wild leader of the Hussites, came with his army to Naumburg, and besieged the city, because Bishop Gerhard of that town, who was a member of the Council of Constance, was one of the men who condemned the noble Huss to be burnt at the stake. He was induced to raise the siege by the entreaties of the children who flocked to his camp, and prayed him to depart and leave them in peace. So earnestly did these young ones plead that Procopius heard them, and promised to withdraw his army. Nor did he send the children away empty, for he gave them a liberal supply of cherries; hence this event is commemorated by what is called 'the cherry feast.'"

"How much I shall like to go! I suppose it is very gay at Naumburg. What do the people do?" said Hans.

"You shall see for yourself," replied his master. "And now come, my boy, let us stroll along the river-side this beautiful summer evening."

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