Tuesday 3 December 2013

Did She Jump From the Frying Pan Into the Fire (continued story about the Anabaptists)

They heard a rabble in the street and Maeken looked terrified. “Go!” she shrieked, pushing her towards the back entrance.  She lowered her voice. “And may God bless you.” Heidi gave her a quick hug then scurried out through the attached root cellar.
               Now where in the world am I to go? It is nearing the supper hour and everyone will be heading back home for their evening meal; as if the crowds weren't bad enough as it was.

        

       Sure it was a dark and cloudy day and the narrow streets were in deep shadows, but that didn’t keep Heidi from feeling nervous. Since I know I am being hunted it feels like everyone is looking at me with suspicion! How can I acted more relaxed, she asked herself, while once again readjusting her loose hood and looking around for a safe place.
               Euwout! Euwout Gaupner! Surely he will aid me. He is a simple but kindly soul.
               Euwout, the priest’s servant, was lingering in the doorway watching the people go by when he spotted Heidi hurrying towards him. “Evenin, ma’am: what can I do for ye? “
               Sure Euwout is a halfwit but he has a kindly heart, surely he will help me! “Oh, Euwout, I am in trouble. Wilt thou help me?”
               The big, over-sized ‘boy’ picked up the brimming pail of slop he had set down and meandered towards a gnarled old apple tree. He tossed the contents towards it and the stench filled the air.
               “Sure, Heidi,” he said. “Come on in.”
               While Euwout prepared simple victuals, Heidi poured out her tale of woe.
               “Not to worry,” he grinned. “The priest is busy at the confessional right now, and by the time he shows up I’ll have you safely smuggled away in the garret. You’re safe at last, Heidi. You’re safe.”
               Heidi wanted to feel grateful but there was something about the gleam in his eye that made Heidi feel uneasy. Something stinketh and it’s not the odor of slop lingering on his clothing.
              


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