Of course, most of the passengers looked more amused than alarmedat the historian’s announcement. They knew what London knew. With hischaracteristic dryness, Emil was teasing them with the promise of a good story,and nobody raised their hand wanting to go back.
“Ah, an intrepid group indeed,” Emil said. “Well, let us plungeon into today’s adventure, shall we?”
As they walked toward the picturesque buildings, towers, andspires of Regensburg on the other side of the river, London was pleased to seethat Emil seemed to be in a good mood now. He hadn’t joined her for breakfastin the Habsburg Restaurant as she’d hoped he would, and he’d barely said a wordto her since they’d come ashore.
His silence worried her—not just because she didn’t know why hewas acting like this, but because it hampered their working relationship. She’dcome along on the tour, as usual, to back him up and to help out with whateverthe passengers might need. She had even left Sir Reggie back on the boat so shecould concentrate on her job.
But she felt that the easy rapport she and Emil had developedwhile leading tours in other cities was missing. They both knew a lot aboutEuropean locales and history, and usually they were able to slyly cue eachother with a word or a nod or a smile as to which of them should do the talkingat any moment.
Right now she sensed no such clues from Emil. Although he waswalking right at her side, he was acting as if she wasn’t there at all.
Even so, London thought it was probably time for her to chip in.
Smiling at the group, she said, “Well, I don’t happen to knowabout any danger of having our souls snatched by the devil. I hope Emil willexplain that before we get all the way across. But I can tell you thatwe are now walking across almost nine centuries of European history.”
A murmur of interest passed among the tourists.
London pointed east where the morning sun glistened on theDanube.
“Before this bridge existed, the emperor Charlemagne himselfbuilt a wooden bridge over there, about three hundred feet downstream. Thatbridge didn’t last, and this one was built between 1135 and 1146—a truemasterpiece of medieval engineering that made Regensburg a cultural center thatlinked Venice with Northern Europe. Until about a hundred years ago, this wasthe only bridge across the Danube between Ulm and Vienna.”
London pointed at a statue of a nearly naked young man mountedabove the balustrade at the bridge’s highest point. He was shielding his eyeswith his hand and seemed to be looking toward a pair of spires in the Old Town.
“Perhaps Emil could tell us something about that interestingcharacter,” she said.
Emil nodded to her rather coolly, then broke into a smile againas he spoke to the group.
“He’s called the Brückenmännchen,which means ‘bridge mannequin,’ and he’s mounted on top of what appears to be alittle toll booth. But don’t worry, there’s no charge for crossing the bridge, atleast not now.”
Walking closer to the statue, Emil explained, “The Brückenmännchen is thought to represent the young engineering prodigy who is said tohave built the bridge in the first place. As you can see, he is looking over atthe two spires of St. Peter’s Cathedral. According to legend, he had goodreason to keep his eye on those spires.”
Emil leaned against the balustradeas the others in the group gathered around him to listen. London, too, wasintrigued.
He continued, “Back in Regensburg’searly days, a master builder and his young apprentice each took charge of twocrucial construction projects. The master set to work building that cathedralover there, while his apprentice started building this bridge. The apprenticewas rather—how do you say it in English?—‘full of himself.’ So he made a betthat he could finish building the bridge before the master could finish thecathedral.”
Emil crossed his arms andchuckled.
“Ah, the arrogance of youth! Ofcourse the young man soon fell behind schedule. Realizing that he was going tolose his bet, he summoned up the devil himself and made a deal with him. Thedevil said he would help him finish the bridge on time, but only if theapprentice promised he could take the first three souls to cross the bridge.The deal was signed—in blood, I suppose, as deals with the devil usually are.Naturally, the devil expected those souls to be very valuable indeed—presumablythe mayor, the duke, and the bishop.”
Emil smiled impishly at the groupand said teasingly, “Oh, but I don’t want to bore you with the rest of thissilly story.”
London laughed and said, “Don’tyou dare stop now!”
Emil looked over the group,apparently ignoring London’s comment. But when several of the tourists eagerlyagreed, he continued.
“Well, the devil sped the constructionof the bridge along, and as completion neared, the young apprentice startedfeeling guilty about the deal he had made. He sought out a priest and confessedwhat he had done. Fortunately, the priest was a very smart fellow, and henoticed that the devil had unwittingly left a loophole in his contract.”
Emil paused and smiled.
“Well, what was the loophole?” oneof the tourists demanded.
“Yes, tell us!” another said.
“Unfortunately for the devil,” Emil said, “he did not specifythat the souls promised to him had to be human souls.”
Emil then pointed to several peculiar statues that ranged alongthe bridge.
“You may have noticed the statues of certain creatures that havebeen fashioned here. Among them you’ll see a donkey, a dog, and a goose. Theapprentice made sure that they were the first three creatures to cross thatbridge, and the devil wound up with their measly souls. He was furious, ofcourse. And it is said that he still lurks beneath one of the bridge’s archessulking over how he was cheated, causing navigational problems with eddies andwhirlpools like those you can see right below us.”
London and the group lined up along the balustrade and lookeddown into the river. Sure enough, the water swirled menacingly around thepilings of each of the arches.
Emil finished his little lecture by saying, “Ever since then, theDanube has been hard to navigate along this
