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If it was you and your genius I had to trust, it's meself would turn violent reactionary and advise Ireland to be a good dog and come to England's heel and lick England's hand and live off England's leavings. I'll trust nobody in this black business but himself Number One." "You have changed your tune since that night at the Red Moon," Sturm reminded him, angrily.
It was to Germany that Edward's circle of Protestant politicians, schoolmasters, and chaplains felt most drawn to the country where the tides of the Reformation were running high, and men were in a ferment over things of the spirit; to the country of Sturm and Bucer, and Fagius and Ursinus the doctrinalists and educators so revered by Cambridge.
A sketch of Beatus, written at his death by John Sturm of Strasburg, the friend of Ascham, gives a picture of the life he led at Schlettstadt during his last twenty years: the plain, simple living in the great house inherited from his father, without luxury or display, attended upon by an old maidservant and a young servant-pupil, given to friends but not allowing hospitality to infringe upon his work, lapped in such quiet as to seem almost solitude; the daily round being dinner at ten, in the afternoon a walk in his gardens outside the city walls, and supper at six.
"To the bottomless pit with your plans!" replied his accomplice. "You have planned me out of ship, cargo, and life; and I dreamt this moment that Meg Merrilies dragged you here by the hair, and gave me the long clasped knife she used to wear you don't know what she said. Sturm wetter! it will be your wisdom not to tempt me!"
But since Victor continued to smoke absently, paying no attention, Nogam resigned himself to wait with entire patience: the perfect pattern of a servant tempered by long servitude to the erratic winds of employers' whims; efficient, assiduous, mute unless required to speak, long-suffering. Victor addressed him suddenly, in a sharp voice that drew from Sturm a glitter of eager spite. "Nogam!"
Nevertheless, undue inquisitiveness on the part of a servant in the pay of Victor Vassilyevski could have but one reward. "Nogam!" "Sir?" "Fetch me an A-B-C." "Very good, sir." With Nogam out of the way, Victor enclosed the telegram in a new envelope and addressed it simply to "Mr. Sturm by hand."
James's Park station, whence he trotted all the way to Queen Anne's Gate, arriving at his destination in a phase of semi-prostration which a person of advancing years and doddering habits might have anticipated. Such fidelity in characterization deserved good reward, and had in it a rare stroke of fortune; for as he drew up to it, the door opened, and Sturm came out, saw Nogam, and stopped short.
At the outer door, but before he opened it, the man put a sealed packet in my hand. "From Doctor Gerard von Sturm," he said, bowing respectfully, yet with a certain sense of being a party in a favor conferred. I thrust the letter into my inner pocket and went out into the street. The sun was still shining, yet somehow I felt that it must be another day, another world.
But it chanced that my steps brought me to the house of the Weiss Thor. Almost without any will of mine own I found myself raising the knocker of the house of Master Gerard von Sturm. Sir Respectable instantly appeared. I asked of him if the Lady Ysolinde would see me giving my name plainly. For since Duke Otho knew me, there was no need of concealment any more.
"So great," he wrote to Jacob Sturm of Strassburg, "is the wickedness and perversity of the Emperor, that I believe the whole world should join together to rid itself of such a burden, in any way possible," and to the Landgrave Philip, in a style full of dreamy hope: "Our kind, gracious Lord causes me to write thus freely like a child, to Your Grace, for I am confident in God, that he has appointed Your Grace to great things, which I may indeed think of, but not speak."
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