At the customhouse at Strasbourg most did land, and I with them, giving them all thanks; and among them I was ware of a young merchant whose face and gait and actions gave me to understand that I had seen him before: yet could I not remember where, but perceived by his speech that ’twas that very same cornet that had once made me prisoner: and now could I not conceive how from so fine a young soldier he had been turned into a merchant, specially since he was a gentleman born. Yea, my curiosity to know if my eyes and ears deceived me or not urged me to go to him and say, “Monsieur Schönstein, is it you or not?” to which he answered, “I am no Herr von Schönstein but a simple trader.” “And I too,” says I, “was never a huntsman of Soest but an organist, or rather a land-tramping beggar.” And “O brother!” he answered, “what the devil trade art thou of? whither art thou bound?” “Brother,” said I, “if thou beest chosen by heaven to help preserve my life, as hath now happened for the second time, then ’tis certain that my destiny requires that I should not be far from thee.”
Then did we embrace as two true friends, that had aforetime promised to love one another to the death. I must to his quarters and tell him all that had befallen me since I had left Lippstadt for Cologne to fetch my treasure, nor did I conceal from him how I had intended to lay wait for their ship with a party, and how we had fared therein. And he on his part confided to me how he had been sent by the Hessian General Staff to Duke Bernhard of Weimar on business of the greatest import concerning the conduct of the war: to bring reports and to confer with him on future plans and campaigns, all which he had accomplished and was now on his way back in the disguise of a merchant, as I could see. By the way also he told me that my bride at his departure was expecting childbed, and had been well entreated by her parents and kinsfolk, and furthermore that the colonel still kept the ensigncy for me. Yet he jested at me by reason of my pockmarked face, and would have it that neither my wife nor the other women of Lippstadt would take me for the Huntsman. So we agreed I should lodge with him and on this opportunity return to Lippstadt which was what I most desired. And because I had naught but rags upon me he lent me some trifle in money, wherewith I equipped myself like to an apprentice-lad.
But as ’tis said, “What will be, must be,” that I now found true: for as we sailed down the river and the ship was examined at Rheinhausen, the Philippsburgers knew me again, seized me and carried me off to Philippsburg, where I had to play the musketeer as before: all which angered my friend the cornet as much as myself: for now must we separate: and he could not much take my part, for he had enough to do to get through himself.
IX
Wherefore Clergymen Should Never Eat Hares That Have Been Taken in a Snare
Now hath the gentle reader heard in what danger of life I put myself. But as concerns the danger of my soul ’tis to be understood that as a musketeer I became a right desperate fellow, that cared naught for God and his word. No wickedness was for me too great: and all the goodnesses and loving kindnesses that I had ever received from God quite forgotten: and so I cared neither for this world nor the next but lived like a beast. None would have believed that I had been brought up with a pious hermit: seldom I went to church and never to confess: and because I cared so little for my own soul’s health, therefore I troubled my fellow men yet more. Where I could cheat a man I failed not to do it, yea I prided myself upon it, so that none came off scot-free from his dealings with me. From this I often got me a whipping, and still more often the torture-horse; yea, I was often threatened with the strappado and the gibbet: but naught availed: I went on in my godless career till it seemed I would play the desperado and run posthaste to hell. And though I did no deed evil enough to forfeit my life, yet was I so reckless that, save for sorcerers and sodomites, no worse man could be found.
Of this our regiment’s chaplain was ware, and being a right zealous saver of souls, at Eastertide he sent for me to know why I had not been at Confession and Holy Communion. But I treated his many faithful warnings as I had done those of the good pastor at Lippstadt, so that the good man could make naught of me. So when it seemed as if Christ and His Baptism were lost in me, at the end says he, “O miserable man: I had believed that thou didst err through ignorance: now know I that thou goest on in thy sins from pure wickedness and of malice aforethought. Who,
