“I’d be happy if we were just allowed to stay in the city,” Matheo murmured. “Just imagine what it would be like to have to wander through the countryside in the winter.” He shuddered. “It’s all the more important, then, that the performance tomorrow goes well and that the people like us.”
The innkeeper nodded. “I agree.” With a smile, he turned to Magdalena and Barbara. “But now let’s give our attention instead to the beautiful ladies. After all, a wedding ceremony is something very special, isn’t it? Particularly when it’s the hangman who is getting married.” He turned around, looking for someone.
“Jeremias!” he bellowed. “There’s work for you. Come here, you lazy fellow. Did you fall asleep while you were scrubbing the floor?”
A stooped figure came shuffling out of a corner of the room, with a little dog jumping at his feet. It was the old man Magdalena had observed cleaning up earlier. As he approached, Magdalena shuddered instinctively. The man was completely bald, and his head and face were heavily scarred and covered with scabs. All that was left of his two ears were tiny stumps, giving the poor fellow the appearance of a smooth egg-but in the midst of all these horrible wounds were two sparkling, friendly eyes.
“Don’t be afraid,” Berthold Lamprecht said. “Jeremias comes from a family of charcoal burners. When he was a child he fell into a pit of burning lime, which explains his appearance. Many people are superstitious and don’t want anything to do with him-they think he’s a monster. But with me he has a job.”
“You can go ahead and call me a monster, if you like,” Jeremias told Magdalena and Barbara with a smile. His voice sounded soft and pleasant. “I’m used to it. Just please don’t call me meat loaf, even if Biff here thinks that’s what I am.” The little dog jumped up and licked the man’s hands. Not until then did Magdalena notice that the dog had a misshapen paw. He was a cripple, just like his master.
“Jeremias is the good soul of this house,” Lamprecht continued. “Cleans, picks up after us, and above all, takes care of our books.” The innkeeper grinned. “For that alone, he’s earned his pay. You can go over to the tavern with him, and he’ll carefully note down what you need.”
Jeremias nodded enthusiastically, and Magdalena and Barbara followed him hesitantly down the stairs into the Wild Man tavern. The dog limped along, barking happily. A small but solid door next to the main entrance led into a large room where several notebooks lay on a table. A large birdcage hung from the ceiling, and inside it, a few sparrows were chirping merrily, while on a narrow bed an old cat dozed, apparently not disturbed by either the birds or the barking dog.
“My kingdom,” Jeremias said proudly, spreading his arms. “It’s small, but at least no one disturbs me here.” He shrugged. “The children in the streets outside can be very annoying with their mean words. I’m happy to have found peace and quiet here.” The old man groaned as he bent down over a notebook and dipped his quill pen into an inkwell. “So, what exactly do you wish to order?”
Magdalena listed the individual items just as Katharina had asked, while Barbara bent over to pet the little dog, which whined and panted happily. When she looked up again, she noticed a few books in a rickety bookcase alongside some bottles and jars.
“William Shakes. . Shakespeare,” she said, looking puzzled as she deciphered the writing. Then her face brightened. “Ah, Shakespeare! Is that the fellow Malcolm’s playwright Markus thought so highly of? Do you read plays?”
The old man smiled. “I actually bought a few of them just last year from a traveling book salesman. They are especially popular translations into German, published here for the first time under the name William Shakespeare. This Shakespeare is a celebrity in England, though all that anyone knows about him here are his plays. But I’m afraid they don’t appeal to me-there’s too much blood and heartache, and no numbers or balance sheets at all. You’re welcome to visit me and have a look. .” He hesitated and regarded Barbara, puzzled. “But can you read-I mean more than just a few letters?”
“As you probably heard earlier, we come from a hangman’s family,” Magdalena explained. “We have to read. After all, we deal with medicines, and much of our knowledge is found only in books.”
Jeremias nodded and, for a moment, seemed surprised. “I see. Well, if you come from a hangman’s family, you must know how it feels when people go out of the way to avoid you.” He pointed at the books. “I taught myself how to read. It’s a consolation during all those lonely hours. Very well. .” He clapped his hands, and Magdalena saw that they were also scarred. “I’m afraid I have to take care of some wine that’s being delivered. The wagon is no doubt standing outside the door.” He smiled as he turned to Barbara. “And, young lady, my offer stands. If you want to read theater pieces, you are always welcome here. Biff likes you, and I rely on his judgment.”
The little dog ran to its master, jumped up, and barked as Jeremias petted him. Barbara curtsied, then turned to run after Magdalena, who had already stepped out into the yard.
“That poor fellow,” said Barbara after they were back at the harbor. “He really does look like a monster.”
Magdalena shrugged. “The nicest people can look like beasts, and the evilest of people sometimes have the faces of angels. Never rely on outward appearances.” She picked up her pace. “And now let’s get home quickly, before the rascally boys drive good Aunt Katharina completely out of her mind.”
The next day, when Simon knocked on the door of the Bamberg city physician, it took only a few moments for the door to open. Once again, it was the haggard old housekeeper, but in contrast to their first meeting, this time she was noticeably friendlier.
“Ah, the old friend from the university,” she said in a saccharine voice. “Excuse me-but if I had known. .”
“Of course.” Simon pushed past her into the house. “Where can I find the doctor?”
“He. . he’s over in his study. Follow me.”
They walked down a freshly plastered hallway. On his right, he got a brief glimpse into a room furnished with exquisite chests of drawers and stools. The walls were decorated with splendid tapestries, and though it was just after noon, a cheerful fire was already burning on the hearth. Simon sighed softly to himself. He wondered again if he might have enjoyed such comforts if he hadn’t broken off his studies in Ingolstadt.
But then I probably would never have met Magdalena, and I’d be married now to the daughter of some boring Munich burgher who would spend the whole day nagging me and trying to stop me from reading.
All morning he’d been looking through Bartholomäus’s little home library, which, except for a few writings on veterinary medicine, contained nothing of interest. Simon’s greatest joy had been helping his son Peter learn to read, and the five-year-old had made astonishing progress. Little Paul, meanwhile, had gutted fish with Katharina for supper, and working with a knife seemed to be in his blood. Magdalena and Barbara were now probably at the theater performance they’d looked forward to so much, the children were playing with Katharina in the hangman’s room, and Simon could finally pay the visit to Samuel that he’d promised the day before.
The housekeeper knocked quietly on a door at the end of the hallway, and Samuel answered, smiling broadly.
“Ah, Simon, I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, greeting his friend with a firm handshake. “Do come in.” He turned to the elderly housekeeper. “And Magda, please, no more patients today.”
The housekeeper nodded silently, then walked away with a majestic bearing, leaving the two men alone.
Simon looked all around the room, impressed. The walls were lined with bookshelves on three sides, filled with books right up to the ceiling. Heavy books, notebooks, and rolls of parchment were piled on the floor and on a side table, as well. Simon felt jealousy welling up inside him. The Schongau bathhouse owner loved books above everything else. What he wouldn’t have given to someday have a library like this.