there. You must go to Lechner.”
Only a short time later Magdalena stood before the gate of the ducal castle. The guards let her in but would not allow her to wake the court clerk. She shouted and scolded, until at last a window opened on the second floor of the residence.
“What’s all the racket down there, damn it?”
Lechner, in his nightgown, blinked sleepily down at her from his window. Magdalena seized her chance and told the clerk briefly what had happened. When she had finished her story, he nodded.
“I’m coming down right away. Wait there.”
Some time later they were walking with the night watchmen and the guards along the Augsburg Road toward the Hohenfurch Road. The men were armed with pikes and two muskets. They looked tired and did not give the impression that it was their greatest desire to get up before dawn to hunt for a few marauding soldiers. Johann Lechner had hurriedly put on his doublet and cloak, and his hair was tousled under his official cap. He looked suspiciously at Magdalena.
“I only hope you are telling the truth. Otherwise both of you—you and your father—can look out for trouble. And anyway, what is the hangman doing outside on the Hohenfurch Road at this time? Respectable burghers stay at home! Lately, your father has had a bit too much to say for my taste. He should torment and hang, and otherwise keep his mouth shut, by God!”
Magdalena bowed her head humbly.
“We were gathering herbs in the woods. Haircap moss and mugwort. You know, they can only be picked by moonlight.”
“Devilish stuff, that! And what was Fronwieser’s son doing there? I don’t believe one word of it, hangman’s daughter!”
In the meantime dawn started to break. The watchmen extinguished their lanterns as they approached the misty clearing near the road. Further back on a pile of wood sat the hangman and the physician.
Johann Lechner stamped up to the two men. “Well? Where are your vandals? I can’t see anything. And the building site looks exactly as it did yesterday!”
Jakob Kuisl rose. “They fled before they could destroy anything. I hit one of them in the face.”
“Oh, yes. And where is he now?” probed the clerk.
“He…didn’t look well. The others took him with them.”
“Kuisl, give me one reason why I should believe this story.”
“Tell me one reason why I should otherwise call you out here in the middle of the night.”
The hangman now approached the clerk.
“There were five,” said Kuisl emphatically. “Four of them were soldiers. The fifth was…somebody else. Their patron, I assume. And I believe he comes from the town.”
The clerk smiled. “I don’t suppose you recognized him, by any chance?”
“It was too dark,” Simon now joined the discussion. “But the others talked about him. They called him Moneybags. He must be a rich burgher.”
“And why should this rich burgher commission a couple of soldiers to vandalize the building site of the leper house?” Lechner interrupted.
“They didn’t damage it. They were looking for something,” said Simon.
“What now? Did they destroy the building site, or were they looking for something? First you said that they were going to destroy it.”
“Damn it, Lechner,” growled Jakob Kuisl. “Don’t be so slow-witted! Someone hired these men to upset everything here, something that would hinder the workers, so that their patron could look for what is hidden here in peace!”
“But that’s nonsense!” interrupted Johann Lechner. “They didn’t gain anything by damaging things. The work is still proceeding in spite of everything.”
“There were delays, though,” added Simon.
Jakob Kuisl fell silent. The clerk was just about to turn away when the hangman suddenly spoke again.
“The foundations.”
“What?”
“The patron must suppose that the treasure, or whatever it is, lies under the foundations. When the building work here is finished he won’t be able to get at it anymore. Then buildings of stone will stand here, all mortared and walled up, so he has to interfere with the work and in the meantime turn over every bit of earth until he finds what he is looking for.”
“That’s right!” cried Simon. “When we were here the first time, parts of the foundation were dug out knee- deep. Someone had put the flagstones neatly aside. And tonight, too, one of the men was prying up the flagstones with a pole!”
Johann Lechner shook his head.
“Tales of treasure hunters and a mysterious search at midnight…Do you expect me to believe that?” He waved his hand over the clearing. “What thing of any value could be hidden here? The land belongs to the church, as you know. If there were anything to be found here, the parish priest would have discovered it in his documents. Every bit of church land is exactly recorded: the floor plan, position, previous history…”
“Not this one,” Jakob Kuisl interrupted him. “This site was presented to the church by old Schreevogl, only a short time ago, to ease his entrance into paradise. The church knows nothing about this land, nothing at all.”
The hangman let his eyes range over the clearing. The lower walls of the little chapel, the foundations for the hospital, the well, the linden tree, a frame of beams for a stable yet to be built, piles of wood…
The court clerk gave him a benign smile. “Kuisl, Kuisl, stick to what you can do and leave all the rest to us members of the council. Do you understand? Otherwise I’ll have to come and have a closer look at your house. People say you sell love potions and other witches’ brews…”
Simon joined in. “But sir, he’s right. The site…”
Johann Lechner turned around and looked at him angrily.
“As for you, Fronwieser, shut your insolent mouth, will you? Your little affair with this hangman’s wench…” He looked across at Magdalena, who quickly turned her head away. “It’s illegal and a disgrace, not only for your father. There are some aldermen who would like to see you both in the pillory. What a picture! The hangman putting the mask of shame on his own daughter! Up to now I have shown some restraint, out of consideration for your father, Fronwieser, and also for the executioner, whom I have respected up to now.”
At the words “hangman’s wench,” Jakob Kuisl jumped up, but Magdalena held him back. “Leave him, Father,” she whispered. “You’ll only make things much worse for us.”
Johann Lechner looked over the site once more and signaled to the watchmen to return.
“I’ll tell you what I think,” he said, without turning around. “I think that there were in fact soldiers here. I’m even prepared to believe that some crazy Schongau patrician hired them to destroy the leper house. Because he was afraid that travelers would avoid the town. But what I do not believe is your tall tale about a buried treasure. And I do not wish to know who this patrician is. Quite enough dirt has been stirred up already. From now on a watch will be set here every night. The building work will continue as the council decided. As for you, Kuisl…” Not until now did he turn to the hangman. “You will come with me and do that for which God has ordained you. You will torture the Stechlin woman until she confesses to the murder of the children. That is the only thing of any importance. And not a few lousy soldiers on a ruined building site.”
He was turning to go when one of the bailiffs plucked at his sleeve. It was Benedict Cost, who had been on duty in the keep this same night. “Sir, the Stechlin woman,” he began.
Johann Lechner stopped. “Well, what about her?”
“She…she’s unconscious and badly injured. At midnight she was drawing signs on the floor of her cell, and then Georg Riegg threw a stone at her, and now you can’t get a peep out of her. We sent old Fronwieser to her to see if he could bring her around.”
A red flush came over Johann Lechner’s face. “And why haven’t you told me this until now?” he hissed.
“We…we didn’t want to wake you,” stammered Benedict Cost. “We thought it could wait until the next day. I was going to tell you early this morning—”
“Wait until the morning?” Johann Lechner had difficulty keeping his voice calm. “In one or two days the
