Then having
stripped the corpse of its clothes, and afterwards having stripped
himself of his outer garments, he dressed up the corpse of his victim in
his own well known crimson-coloured doublet and hose, thereby conveying
the idea to the public mind that the corpse found was his own, after
which, returning to his house close by, having again donned the friar's
habit, he deposited the sword usually set apart for the beheading of
criminals, and in this case used for amputating the head of the murdered
count, and wiping it well, he lighted a fire on his hearth where he
burned one by one the habiliments of his victim. He then left his house
a second time, still disguised as a friar and laden with his ill-gotten
treasure, passed once more the scene of the murder and wandered all
night in the direction of ----. How strange the evidence, too, that
convicted him, the theft of the bottle of hair dye, the remarkable patch
on his amice. Every particular of the murder had an indescribable
interest in the minds of the populace of ----dorf and its surrounding
villages. No wonder the adjacent townships vomited forth their scum of
the curious, idle, and depraved! This was a sight not to be missed on
any account, and would furnish them with gossip for the next six months
at least. At length, when the long streaky rose-tipped clouds announced
the approach of the fatal hour, the crowd burst out simultaneously into
a cry of "He comes! he comes! the Henker comes!" The crowd made room for a young man in a cart, who, having thrown the
reins on the horse's neck, passed through the file of soldiers and
mounted the hillock of earth, armed with the two-handed weapon that he
was about to use for the first time in his life. "Look!" said one of the crowd; "it _is_ young Leo, after all. I thought
they had found a substitute." "What a hard-hearted young ruffian to consent to take the life of his
father with his own hands!" said another. "And he doesn't seem to feel it a bit," said a third; "why, he is
actually smiling." "Some folks say that he does not know who it is that he is going to
behead," said a fourth. "Not know that the criminal is his father?" exclaimed the former
speaker. "Nonsense, I don't believe it." The young headsman was attired in a buff leather jerkin slashed with red
and hose of a dark green. He appeared about two-and-twenty, and was as
yet beardless. He was considerably taller than his father, but his
frame, though powerfully built, was devoid of that excessive and almost
preternatural muscular development that characterised that of the old
executioner. His hair was of a reddish brown, his complexion florid, his
eyes light blue, and his features, though somewhat coarse, had something
in them not altogether disagreeable. He leaned firmly on his sword and
gazed around calmly on the crowd, when suddenly the human sea became
violently agitated and began to groan and hiss in its fury. The cause of this tumult became speedily known. It was the arrival of
the "poor sinner," who was drawn in a cart between two priests and
habited according to the custom of the condemned on such occasions. Loud
hooting and execrations burst forth on all sides from the crowd as it
made way for the condemned cart. "But that is not Franz Wenzel," said one to his neighbour. "The old
Henker had red hair; this man's hair is black." "Fool, don't you know how that is?" said his neighbour. "Haven't you
heard yet how he dyed his hair black in order not to be recognised?" "No, did he though?" said the former. "But look! why is his head tied up
so with two handkerchiefs? I can't see anything of his face." "H'm, I don't know; some innovation I suppose. The handkerchief always
used to be tied on when on the scaffold in my time," answered his
friend. The criminal had now alighted from the cart, and, followed by
the two priests, ascended the place of execution, where he took his seat
on the chair placed for him. The assistant executioner, whose face was
most successfully disguised with a black mask, pushed his way through
the crowd and mounted the platform. "Who is _he_?" was a question asked by everyone of everybody; "and why
is he masked while Leo, who bears the sword, is unmasked?" "Who knows? Perhaps he is the new headsman that they all talked about,
and young Leo will not really behead his own father; but we shall see." The crowd had grown more curious than ever. Every one stood on the
tip-toe of expectation with his eyes and mouth wide open. An intense
silence reigned around, during which the man in the mask bound the
criminal firmly to his seat with a strong cord, then seizing the
handkerchief that was tied round the head of the condemned, he gave the
signal for the blow. The two priests who had hitherto been whispering
consolation in the ear of the criminal now retreated a few paces to the
rear, while young Leo advanced, flushed and triumphant, his whole
countenance distorted with an expression of malice and revenge. Before
brandishing his sword to give the final blow he lowered his head close
to the ear of the victim and hissed out in accents sufficiently audible
to be overheard by that part of the crowd that had assembled nearest to
the scaffold: "Wretch! thine hour has come at last. Learn now the
vengeance of a wronged son. Thou shalt see if I am the son of my father
or no, and whether it is for nothing that I have been bred a
Scharfrichter. Prepare now, for thou art soon to learn how I have
profited by my lessons--whether I am an apt pupil. My sword is sharpened
well on purpose for thee, and when thou feelest the cold steel close to
thy neck, then, then, to h----l with thee, and bear throughout eternity
the curses of a ruined son!" During this speech of the young headsman the criminal was observed to
tremble convulsively, as if struggling to speak, but the assistant
executioner grasped the handkerchief still tighter round his head and
repeated the signals impatiently. "Did you hear?" said one of the foremost in the crowd. "Did you hear how
he cursed his father? He actually reproached him in his last moments for
having brought him up a Scharfrichter! Oh! the unfeeling young villain! What a heart he must have." "Ah! neighbour," answered another, "these executioners are not like
other mortals; they do not know what it is to feel. They are brought up
to kill their fellow creatures as butchers are to kill cattle, and they
think nothing of it. Bless you, there is nothing these men would not do
for money." "'Tis strange, too," said another close by. "I always thought young Leo
loved his father. I never thought so bad of him as to think that he
would curse him in his dying moments, wretch though he may have been." "Take my word for it, neighbour," said a sturdy inhabitant of ----dorf,
"that young Leo does not know yet that it is his father." At this moment everyone suddenly broke short his discourse, and the
crowd again was silent for a moment.