This pleased the abbess, and forthwith the reverend David proceeded to the refectory.
Now Sidonia had not expected him so early, and she was up and dressed, busily brewing another hellish drink to have ready for him by the time he arrived; but when his step sounded in the passage, she whipped into bed and covered herself up with the clothes, not so entirely, however, but that a long tail of her black robe fell outside from under the white sheet—this, unluckily for herself, she knew nothing of. The priest, however, saw it plainly, and had, moreover, heard the jump she gave into bed just as he opened the door; but he made no remark, only greeted her as usual, and asked what she wanted with him.
_Illa.—"Ah! she was sick, sick unto death—would he not pray for her? for the night before she was too ill to pray, and no doubt the Lord was angry with her, by reason of the omission. This morning, indeed, she had crept out of bed, just to scold her awkward maid for breaking all the pots and pans, as he himself saw, but had to go to bed again, and was growing weaker and weaker every quarter of an hour. But the good priest must taste her beer; let him drink a can of it first to strengthen his heart. It was the best beer she had made yet, and her maid had just tapped a fresh barrel."
Here the reverend David made answer—"He thanked her for her beer, but would drink none. He could not believe, either, that she was as ill as she said, and had been lying in bed all the morning."
But she persisted so vehemently in her falsehoods that the very boards under her must have felt ashamed, if they had possessed any consciousness. Whereupon the priest shuddered in horror and disgust, bent down silently, and lifted up the piece of her robe which lay outside.
"What did this mean? did she wear her nun's dress in bed? or was she not rather making a mock of him, and the whole convent, by her pretended sickness?"
Here Sidonia grew red with shame and wrath; but, ere she could utter a word, the priest continued with a holy and righteous anger—
"Woe to thee, Sidonia! for thou art a byword amongst the people. Woe to thee, Sidonia! for thou hast passed thy youth in wantonness and thy old age in sin. Woe to thee, Sidonia! for thy hellish arts brought thy mother the abbess, and thy father the superintendent, nearly to their graves. Woe to thee, Sidonia! for this past night thou hast taken a horrible revenge upon the whole princely race, and cursed them by the power which the devil gives thee. Woe to thee, Sidonia! for by thy hellish drink thou didst seek to destroy me, the servant of the living God, to thy horrible maid still more horribly attracting me. Woe to thee, Sidonia! accursed witch and sorceress, blasphemer of God and man! Behold, thy God liveth, and thy Prince liveth, and they will rain fire and brimstone upon thy infamous head. Woe to thee! woe to thee! woe to thee! thou false serpent—thou accursed above all the generations of vipers—how wilt thou escape eternal damnation?"
When the righteous priest of God had ended his fearful malediction, he started at himself, for he knew not how the words had come into his mouth; then turned from the bed and went out, while a peal of laughter followed him from the room. But no evil happened to him at that time, as he had fully expected, from Sidonia (probably she feared to exasperate the convent and the Prince against her too much); but she treasured up her vengeance to another opportunity, as we shall hear further on.
END OF VOL. I.
End of Project Gutenberg's Sidonia the Sorceress V1, by William Meinhold