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He dared not open his eyes again, because he could no longer bear to see the convulsions of the women in the boat or the hideous massacre on the stern of the Roland. The sea raged. It was icy cold. The water froze on the edge of the boat. Rosa, the maid, was the only one that constantly bestirred herself to help others, the children, Mrs. Liebling, Ingigerd, and Arthur Stoss.
Here a stranger joined them. It was not until he was quite close that Frederick recognised in the correctly clad man the valet of Arthur Stoss. "Doctor von Kammacher," said Bulke, "Rosa cannot get it out of her mind. Can't you make her understand that it isn't right always to be going over and over such a thing and that she ought to forget it? It couldn't be worse if she had lost a boy of her own.
They have almost completely cast off the Gothic, and no other sculptor in wood of his time knew so well how to treat the peach bloom of a woman's skin or the charm of a woman's face and body. His women are the pick of the lovely girls of Würzburg and its surroundings. Each one is adorably beautiful. Here is Veit Stoss." He took a portfolio from a shelf filled with portfolios.
Still, while this statement holds good in a general way, there are marked departures, and examples of extremely interesting and often original sculpture in Germany, although until the work of such great masters as Albrecht Dürer, Adam Kraft, and Viet Stoss, the wood carver, who are much later, there is not as prolific a display of the sculptor's genius as in France.
"I think we're heading off too far toward Stoss Pond," said I. "Oh no, we're not!" cried Willis. "Come on!" Gripping our strings of fish, we ran on again, but presently we were perplexed to discern the side of a mountain looking up directly ahead. "There, now, what did I tell you?" said I. "That's Stoss Pond mountain." Thereupon we tacked again, and ran on.
Millions of dollars were appropriated to the navy, but if a man-of-war actually happened to be built, the thing was a great achievement, since the money, long before it was applied to its proper purpose, sifted down into the pockets of peaceful Americans, whose interest in the navy was of the slightest. "I shouldn't care to be buried in America," cried Stoss, in his sharp voice.
Up in the great woods, three or four miles from the old Squire's farm, there was a clearing of thirty or forty acres in which stood an old house and barn, long unoccupied. A lonelier place can hardly be imagined. Sombre spruce and fir woods inclosed the clearing on all sides; and over the tree-tops on the east side loomed the three rugged dark peaks of the Stoss Pond mountains.
The place, it is clear, was already of considerable military importance or it would not have been worth while to invest it. It may be as well briefly to notice the two churches St. Sebald and St. Lawrence. The former was within a stone's throw of our inn. Above the door of the western front is a remarkably fine crucifix of wood placed, however, in too deep a recess said to be by Veit Stoss.
He heard Stoss say that on the bill-boards one read "1492," the year in which modern America was born. He distinguished phrases such as "navigare necesse est, vivere non necesse," "through darkness to light," and so on. Stoss's speech utterly lacked inspiration. "Noah's ark," he said, "has not yet become superfluous. Two-thirds of the earth's surface is still covered with water.
Yet the situation in which he now beheld him was so novel, so remarkable, almost to the point of improbability, that he had difficulty in concealing his amazement. Arthur Stoss was eating lunch. Since this room was so little used and since a man forced to handle his knife and fork with his feet could not be permitted to eat in the public dining-room, they served Arthur Stoss with his meals here.
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