Chapter VIII: Darlinger Again (1)

At length they came upon a burned village, whose walls showed the marks of cannon-shot and shrapnel. The towers had been blown up, and the valley appeared to be entirely deserted.

"This is a good sign!" Carter exclaimed; "this work is evidently quite recent, and no doubt is the result of a punitive expedition sent out to revenge the destruction of the fort. I expect from here onwards we shall find that every village has been destroyed. Of course, we must still travel cautiously; the natives will doubtless be returning and setting about rebuilding their homes--still, we are not likely to meet many of them."

Continuing their journey, they found traces of fire and sword everywhere. "The work has been done well and thoroughly," Carter said; "there is not a roof left standing. I have no doubt every village on our frontier has been visited and punished. It was the most serious attack that has been made for years on one of our border forts, and you may be sure that no pains have been spared to make the punishment proportionate to the offence. There will not be many rifles left in this part of the country, for you may be sure that all will have to be handed in. I don't want to run any risks, but if we did fall in with the natives I should doubt if, after this punishment, any of them would dare to meddle with us."

Presently, indeed, they did meet a party consisting of a dozen natives. These were evidently returning to their homes. They were armed only with old muskets, and, seeing the three rifles carried by the strangers, they simply saluted and walked on.

"We may fairly consider ourselves among friends, at least among men who no longer venture to be enemies. I fancy I know this village. It is about fifty or sixty miles from the fort; I rode out here with a troop to demand the instant surrender of some cattle that had been stolen from across the frontier. The country is fairly open all the way, and we shall have no difficulty whatever with the rest of our journey."

They now pressed forward with all haste, travelling by day, and towards evening, two days later, they made out, far away on the plain, a group of white tents. As they came nearer they saw that a considerable number of men were employed in rebuilding the houses in the fort, and in adding additional works round them. The sun was just setting as they arrived at the edge of the camp.

Evident surprise was caused among the soldiers at the appearance of two officers in khaki. Their uniforms were in ribbons, and so dirty and travel-stained that it was difficult to make out that they were officers. Presently one of the soldiers recognized Carter and raised a shout, and immediately the soldiers flocked round them, cheering loudly at the reappearance of their officer, who they had deemed was killed at the capture of the fort.

No one noticed Nita, who, seized with a new shyness, followed Carter, who could move but slowly, for the soldiers pressed forward to salute him. Soon some officers appeared on the scene, and these too gave the lieutenant an enthusiastic welcome.

"Who is it you have with you?" one of these asked.

"I will explain to you later on," Carter said, "At present I want to go to the major's tent. I hope he is here."

"Yes, he is here, poor fellow, but he is quite a changed man. He is frightfully cut up at the loss of his daughter."

"Did he find her body?" Carter asked innocently.

"No, it was doubtless among those destroyed by fire in the mess-house. We thought that you were there also, for on uncovering the ruins we found nothing but a charred mass of bodies utterly unrecognizable. There, that is the major's tent. He is standing at the door, waiting, no doubt, to ascertain the cause of the hubbub."

As Carter approached the entrance to the tent, the major stepped forward, having gathered from the shouting who the ragged figure approaching him was. He shook the lieutenant cordially by the hand.

"I am glad, indeed, to find that you are alive, Carter," he said. "Everyone thought that there was not a single survivor of the massacre; though we hear now that the havildar and one of the men were taken prisoners, and only last week we sent off into the mountains to offer terms for their ransom."

"I will enter your tent, if you will allow me, major. I have something of importance to tell you."

The major entered, followed by Carter, with Nita three or four paces behind him. The major, who had not before noticed the lieutenant's young companion, looked at the youthful figure in surprise. Then he staggered a pace or two back as Nita, holding out her hands, exclaimed, "Don't you know me, father?"

With a hoarse cry the major held out his arms and Nita ran into them, while Carter at once left the tent.

For a time the major could only murmur exclamations of thankfulness, but as he calmed down at last, he asked, "What are you doing in this masquerade, Nita?"

"The explanation is this, father. When the place was attacked I dressed myself up in a suit of Carter's clothes, because I was determined to fight till the last and be killed rather than be carried away a captive. I did fight, father, and was at the last knocked down with the butt-end of a rifle, and left for dead, but by the next morning I recovered consciousness, and when they examined the bodies they found that I was sensible; but Carter was still insensible. We were carried off, in different directions, the idea being, I suppose, either to obtain ransom for us, or to pacify you if you should bring an expedition into the mountains."

Then she gave a full account of their wanderings, keeping herself entirely in the background and giving all the credit to Carter.

"But if you and he were carried off by different parties, how did you come together again?"

"I escaped eventually and made my way over the hills to where I had learned that he was confined, and then he got away and joined me. We have been a long time in the mountains together, travelling all the time."

"But how did you get food?"

"I stole a good part of it, father. I suppose I ought to be ashamed of having done so, but it was absolutely necessary. Before I escaped I collected it gradually till I had a sack full; then I stole a pony to carry it, and a skin for water. This supply lasted us over a fortnight. Carter went down sometimes into a valley and killed a bullock, and kept us well supplied with meat. As to the grain, we occasionally rifled a village storehouse. So we really were never short of food, though I must say that I shall be very glad to have a piece of good bread between my teeth again."

"I should not have known you in the least," the major said; "you are altered a good deal, but Carter is much more so. Of course, he has had no opportunity of shaving since he has been away, and so has grown quite a respectable beard. Now I suppose the first thing that you would like to do would be to get into your own clothes again. But how you are to manage I do not know, for of course everything was destroyed at the capture of the fort.

"I should like some clothes indeed, father. Of course I got quite accustomed to these when I was a prisoner, and have had no time to think about them since, indeed I did not even feel strange in them when the attack upon the fort was going on. But I should not like to be seen wearing a man's uniform here. Still, I suppose a few traders have come up and have opened temporary stores, and if you would go over and buy me some cloth, I can soon make up something in which I shall not mind appearing."

"No, I do not think any have arrived yet, but I will go across to the quarter-master's tent and see what he has got." And the major went out.

In ten minutes he returned, followed by a sepoy carrying a roll of karkee serge.

"There, Nita," he said, "you can make yourself a skirt out of that, and with one of my jackets you will be all right, although I do not suppose you will be quite fashionably dressed. You will find needles and thread in that haversack. Now, my dear, while you are arranging matters I will go across to the mess-room. No doubt all the officers are gathered there to hear Carter's story."

The major returned a couple of hours later. Nita, except that her hair was still short, and her face and hands sunburnt, was herself again.

"Do you know, father," she said as he entered, "I feel horribly uncomfortable in these clothes. Of course I shall get accustomed to them in time, but at present they seem to cling about me in a most disagreeable way."

"You would have been pleased, my dear, if you had heard the hearty cheering there was in the mess-tent when I told them who Carter's companion was, for he had kept a profound silence on the subject, and had simply told them that it was a fellow-captive. I never saw men more pleased, and it shows how popular you are in the regiment. But Carter has told us a very different tale from what you told me. He went, of course, much more into detail, and the details related largely to your doings. First of all he gave us a description of the siege, and of the desperate stand made when the Afridis burst in, and how you fought until the last of the little group was overpowered. Then he told us how, when he recovered consciousness, he found himself carried along, and how, after some days' travel, he was imprisoned in the upper room of one of their fortified houses. He said that he found the captivity was exceedingly strict, and that no real hope of escape entered his breast, until one morning he found a note from you fastened to an arrow lying on the ground.

"It told him that you would shoot in another arrow the next night with a string fastened to a rope attached to it. Then he went on to tell how, when he had got down, you took him to your camp, a mile and a half away, where you had a pony and a large sack of provisions. He says that during your travels you showed a marvellous amount of pluck and endurance, and that in the first skirmish that occurred you shot two out of the three of your assailants, and that, in consequence, you both became possessed of rifles, which you used to good purpose when you were afterwards seriously attacked. He said that when you both concluded that large bodies of tribesmen would be at once sent out in search of you, it was you advised that you should take shelter among rocks but a few yards away from the spot where you were attacked, as it was not at all likely that your enemies would begin their search so near to the scene of action. Altogether he gave you the highest credit."

"Then he was both foolish and wrong, father," Nita said angrily, "and I am sure that he will admit that I always followed his advice without question; but indeed, except in the way of travel, and we did go through an awfully rough country, and had continually to change our course to avoid impossible difficulties, we really had no adventures to speak of except these two skirmishes. Of course we were greatly helped by the Afridi custom of staying indoors after nightfall."

The next day Nita held a sort of reception, and was called upon by all the officers of the regiment. Whereas during her journey she had felt no feeling of shyness, she now felt timid and embarrassed, but, as her father told her, this feeling would wear off before long.

A few days later, the major sent Nita home to England, where she at once went to a school close to her aunt's, and it was two years before she rejoined the regiment. She found that several changes had taken place. Carter had obtained his company, and had received very high credit for the sketches and maps that he had furnished of the hitherto unknown country through which they had passed. Of course they could not be the same chums as before, but it was not long before it was evident that they had not forgotten their perilous journey together. Within a month they became engaged, with her father's complete approval, for Carter, in addition to his captain's pay, possessed an income of £400 a year. Since then he has passed through the Tirah campaign, where his maps proved of great value, and gained for him a brevet majority. And with his cherished companion, who has become his wife, his life bids fair to be a perfectly bright and happy one.

HOW COUNT CONRAD VON WALDENSTURM TOOK GOLDSTEIN

"A cheerful home-coming, Johann," Conrad von Waldensturm said bitterly. "Fool that I was to believe that Goldstein would be bound by any oath! 'Tis well that I had heard the news, and that I did not learn it for the first time looking at the ruins of my home."

"The Elector of Treves should do you justice, master."

"The elector has his hands full with his quarrels with his neighbours, and would not care to take up arms against a powerful vassal. It would need a strong force indeed to take Goldstein, and there are many who, although they love not the baron, would not care to war against him in a quarrel which did not greatly concern them. Had I been at home I do not think that the baron would have dared thus to attack our castle without further pretext than that our families had always been on bad terms; but when the emperor called upon all honourable gentlemen to aid him in his struggle with the Turks I had no thought that harm might come in my absence, or that death would take away my father, the bravest and best knight in the province, and that my sister Minna would be left unprotected. Had I received the news earlier of my father's death I might have been home in time, but if a messenger was sent to tell me, which I doubt not was the case, some harm befell him on the way, and it was not until four months later that a knight from Treves, joining the army, told me the news. Then, as we fortunately defeated the Turks with heavy loss, the emperor permitted me to return home, but before I left the army this blow came: the castle was destroyed, most of the retainers on the estate killed, and Minna carried away."

The speaker, Count Conrad von Waldensturm, was a young man some twenty-five years old. His father's castle stood on a steep hill above the Moselle. When he had left two years before it was strong and shapely--as fair a castle as any in the valley--now it was a ruin. The stonework was for the most part but little injured, but the interior had been gutted by fire, and the empty windows looked mournfully out on the fair prospect. The gate was gone, and in several places the battlements had been demolished; the moat was empty, the drawbridge had disappeared.

This was the work of Baron Wolff von Goldstein, whose castle lay some twelve miles lower down the river. It was a much larger and stronger place than the abode of Conrad's ancestors. For nigh a century there had been little friendship between the lords of Waldensturm and those of Goldstein; they had taken different sides in the troubles of that time, and the enmity thus created had never died out. The Baron von Goldstein had been on the winning side and had been rewarded by the gift of fully half the lands of Waldensturm.

When the emperor had called upon the nobles and barons of Germany to aid him against the Turks, he had issued an order that all feuds should, during their absence, be laid aside, and when allowing his son to go to war the Count von Waldensturm had called upon Wolff von Goldstein to take an oath that there should be peace between the two families during his absence, and this the baron had done without hesitation. But a month after the count's death Von Goldstein suddenly fell upon the castle, put all the retainers to the sword, ravaged the whole of the estate, and carried off Minna, a girl of fourteen, to his castle.

The other speaker was Johann Bernkof, a stout man-at-arms and the leader of the little troop of eighteen retainers, the sole survivors of fifty men who had followed their young lord to the war. These were sitting on their horses, some twenty yards behind the speakers, looking in speechless wrath at the ruined castle, the remains of the village which formerly stood down by the river's edge, the untilled fields, the wasted farms. What had befallen their families none knew. Fathers, brothers, and friends, who had been among the retainers of the castle, had almost certainly perished; where the women were sheltered, or what had become of them, they knew not. As the count was speaking to Bernkof they insensibly moved their horses up closer. The young count turned suddenly.

"Well, men," he said, "you have been fighting well and manfully against the enemies of our country and our religion; it seems to me that we have an enemy at home more faithless and more cruel than the Turks. Will you fight less manfully against him?"

"We will fight to the death," the men shouted, drawing their swords, "for home and vengeance."

"When the time comes I will call upon you," the young count said, "though I fear that we can do nothing at present. Were you ten times as strong you could not hope to storm Goldstein. The first thing is to take care that no news that we have returned shall reach the baron, therefore scatter to your homes quietly and singly. If, as I fear will generally be the case, you find them destroyed, take shelter among friends who remain; lay aside your armour and appear as peaceful men; find out as far as possible where all who have escaped Von Goldstein's attack are sheltered. Some, no doubt, will have gone elsewhere. Let these be sought out and told, under promise of secrecy, that I have returned. Bid all capable of bearing arms be in readiness to gather on any day and hour I may appoint. That is all at present. I shall take up my abode in the ruins here, and any who have aught to tell me will find me there every evening. In three days let me have news where each of you has bestowed yourself. Arrange with your friends that a few lads shall come here every evening to act as messengers should I have need of them."

The little troop broke up at once, and Conrad rode with his sergeant up to the castle. Dismounting, they entered the courtyard. The tears came into the young count's eyes as he looked round at the ruins. The thought of how his father and the household had bidden him farewell, how his young sister had placed a scarf of her own embroidering over his shoulders, and had wept freely as she did so, at the thought of the months that would elapse before she would see him again, for the moment unmanned him. However, with an effort he roused himself, and said: "They have not done so much harm as I had feared, Johann; the stonework has suffered but little, and it is carpenters' work rather than masons' that will be needed. Timber is cheap, and happily my purse is well lined with the ransom that Turkish emir I captured paid for his liberty. Still, that matters nothing at present. So long as Goldstein stands, Waldensturm will never be rebuilt. The first thing to do is to look round and see where we had best bestow ourselves and our horses."

There was no difficulty in this; the offices on the ground floor were strongly arched, and although most of these chambers had been crushed in by the fall of the floors above, or by the battlements that had been toppled down upon them, three or four remained intact. The horses were led into one of them, and the young knight and Johann set to work to clear another of the debris and rubbish for their own habitation.

"That is better than I had hoped," the former said, when the work was done. "Now, Johann, we must wait for our supper till the men I charged to obtain food for ourselves and forage for the horses return. We are accustomed to hard fare, and it matters not, so that we can obtain bread and enough of it. More than that we cannot expect, for such of our vassals as have remained in the neighbourhood must be beggared, as we have not seen a head of cattle or sheep since we crossed the border of the estate, and the fields all stood uncultivated."

Two of the men presently returned; one brought some black bread, another two fowls and a flask of wine.

"I got the wine at old Richburg's, my lord," he said; "he had a small store that escaped the plunderers, and the fowls I got elsewhere. They had been out in the fields when the raiders came down, and Carl Schmidt, on his return, gathered a score or two, and these have multiplied. He lets them run wild, so that should the raiders come again they may escape as before. He has built himself a shelter of sods where his house stood. He will bring you two fowls every day so long as he has any left. He says that to-morrow he will gather a dozen of them in, and maybe he will be able to add a few eggs to the fowls he brings. He told me that many of the people have returned. Some have built shelters in the woods, others, like himself, have established themselves in rough huts on the spot where their old homes stood, and have sown small patches of grain. All have been living in hopes of your return, and there is not a man or boy who will not take up arms as soon as you give the word."

"I am glad to hear it. Take my thanks to Schmidt and Richburg, and tell them that I have not come home penniless, and that whether we succeed or not against this perjured baron they shall have help to rebuild their houses, and to enable them to live until they can raise crops."

A fire was soon laid, for the yard was strewn with unburned beams which had fallen from the roofs and sheds. Johann plucked and split open the fowls, and grilled them over the fire.

"We have done worse than this many a time when we were with the emperor," Conrad said as they ate their meal. When he had finished he sat for a long time in deep thought, then he remarked: "We must think over our plans. So far we have been able to form none. That the castle had fallen I knew, but I was not aware how absolutely the vassals were ruined. To-morrow morning we will mount early and ride to a point where we can have a view of Goldstein. I see now that we cannot hope to gather a force that could attack the castle, and that if we are to succeed it must be by some well-devised trick. If I had my sister out of their hands I could afford to wait, and could go round among my father's friends, and endeavour to obtain aid from them; though I own I have no great hopes that many would adventure lives and fortunes in a quarrel that is not their own.

"Von Goldstein is the most powerful baron in these parts, and stands well with the Elector of Treves. If I fail to right myself I shall go to Vienna and again lay my case before the emperor. I saw him before I left, and told him what had befallen me. He was greatly angered when he heard that Von Goldstein had broken his oath, and taken advantage of my absence to destroy my castle. Active aid he could not give me, but he gave me rescript proclaiming the baron to be a false and perjured knight, whose estates were forfeited by his treachery. He called upon the elector to deprive him of his fief, and to bestow it upon me, declaring that in case of his failure to do so, he himself would intervene, and would, by force of arms if need be, expel Von Goldstein and hand over the fief to me, to be held, not under the elector, but directly from himself.

"It would be useless at present for me to produce this document, for the elector knows well enough that the emperor's hands are full with the wars against the Turks, who are a trouble at the best of times. His authority is but slight over the western provinces, and the elector would write making all sorts of excuses for not meddling with Von Goldstein. It were better, before I appeal to the elector, to raise a troop from my own resources; but even if I laid out every penny of the emir's ransom I could scarce gather a force that would suffice to storm the castle. No, I feel that if I am to recover Minna it must be by stratagem. At present I can see no way by which this can be done, but maybe as I look at the castle my brain may work to more good purpose. And now, Johann, it were well to lead the horses out and hobble them. There was a field we passed half-way down, where the grass was growing long and thick. When the boys come to-morrow night, I will arrange with them to cut and bring in bundles of it."

"Shall I stay out there with them, count? Should any rough-riders catch sight of them standing unguarded they might well take a fancy to them, for yours at least is an animal such as is not often seen."

"There is no need for that, Johann; it is dark already, and it is not likely that anyone will pass here after nightfall. But it would be well to fetch them in at daybreak."

"That will I do, my lord; our arms and horses are our chief possessions now. Though we might replace mine, such a steed as yours would cost a noble's ransom."

"Yes, and indeed, apart from his value, I would not lose him, since it was a gift of the emperor himself."

The next morning they rode out early, entered a wood on an eminence a mile from the baron's castle, then, dismounting, walked to the edge of the trees, and the count sat down on a fallen tree and gazed at the castle for half an hour in silence.

It was indeed a strong place. The castle itself was perched upon the edge of a precipitous cliff, which on three sides of it fell away almost perpendicularly. On the other side, the approach, though steep, was more gradual. In front of the castle was a large courtyard. Inside and at the foot of the side walls, which rose apparently sheer from the edge of the precipices, were the quarters of the garrison. The end wall was very strong and massive, with a flanking tower at each corner and another over the gateway. At its foot the rock had been cut away perpendicularly, forming a dry moat some twenty feet deep and forty wide. On the other side of the moat was a similar enclosure open towards the castle, but larger and with even more massive walls, with strong flanking towers at short distances apart. Here the vassals would drive in their cattle and herds on the approach of a hostile force. This exterior fortification was in itself unusually strong, and would have to be taken before the second wall could be attacked, as it could only be approached on that face.

"It is a strong place, indeed," the count said at last. "It would be necessary to scale the outer wall, and, even could this be done by stealth, there would be that deep cut and the next wall to cross, and the castle itself, which is indeed a fortress, to enter; a well-nigh impossible undertaking."

"I do not think it would be necessary to scale the wall of the outer court, my lord, for there is open ground on either side, as far as the point where the cut is made. Beyond that, methinks, there will be space enough to walk between the edge of the rock and the wall. The castle itself is most likely so built that the cliff goes sheer down from its foot, but I do not think that is so with the wall of the courtyard. There would be no occasion for it; the bravest men would not venture upon a narrow ledge where they could be overwhelmed by stones or missiles from the wall above."

"I think that is so, Johann; but at any rate that cut would have to be passed. No, the castle is impregnable save by stratagem, or treachery within, or against an army with battering-machines. 'Tis stronger than I thought it; I never took so good a look at it before, for it was but seldom that I rode in this direction."

"It would need an army," Johann agreed, "and might well cost the loss of a thousand men."

"I should be well content, Johann," the young count said gloomily, "if I could but carry my sister off, to ride back with her to Vienna, where the emperor would place her under the protection of some dame at his court, and where I might carve out a new inheritance with my sword; but it seems to me as difficult to get her away as it is to storm the castle. We know not where she is placed, and assuredly that knowledge is the first that we must gain before any plan can be contrived. That could only be done in one of two ways: either by bribing one of the servitors at the castle or by introducing some friend of our own."

"The latter would not be easy, count," Johann said, shaking his head. "If the baron were apprehensive of attack he might increase his strength, and one presenting himself as a man-at-arms out of employment might be enrolled in his band; but at present he is scarcely likely to increase his force."

"I see that, Johann; I would go myself as a minstrel, but among those in the castle there might well be some who would recognize me. As you know, I have some skill with the lute, and could pass well enough if it were not for that; but were I detected and captured, 'tis certain that I should never leave the castle alive."

"That is not to be thought of, count. Your person is so well known to the country round that you would certainly be recognized, if not by the baron himself, by some of those who were with him at Treves when you were there with your father, before you started for the war. Methinks the other is the only plan. The baron's garrison consists not so much of his own vassals as of wandering men-at-arms, whom he has gathered round him, and who serve him for pay and not from duty or love. Among these there must be many who would willingly accept a bribe. If your lordship think well of the plan, I will myself go down to the village and endeavour to gather news. I am not likely to be known. I was a simple man-at-arms when you went out, and it was only when Rudolph and Max were killed that you made me officer over the rest. There has been little communication for years between our people and those of the baron. To make matters sure, I might put a patch over my eye. I should say that I was a wandering soldier, who, being disabled in the war, was now returning unfit to my friends at Luxembourg. I shall pretend to be very hard of hearing, in order that they may speak more freely before me. I can even stay there for a day or two, alleging that I am wearied and worn out. 'Tis certain that the baron is not loved by his people. He is a hard man and a rough one; he goes far beyond his rights in the dues he demands. I do not know that I may learn anything, but it is possible that I may do so."

"'Tis a good plan, Johann; I would carry it out myself, but I am full young and too healthy-looking to pass as a discharged soldier."

"'Tis well that you should run no risks, my lord; did aught happen to you there is not only your own life that would be lost, but your vassals would have no more to hope for. So far, from what the others said last night, the baron does not concern himself with them at present; but were they to cultivate the land he would assuredly gather the produce, and with none to protect them or speak for them they would be driven to go elsewhere. At any rate, my lord, I will gladly try. Naught may come of it, but maybe I may hear some discontented soldier growling over his cup, and may find an opportunity of sounding him, taking care, you may be sure, not to mention your name, but merely saying that I know of a manner in which a handsome sum may be earned by one willing to do a service. If I find he rises at the bait, I will bid him meet me again, and will, before I see him, discuss the matter with you, so that you may be with me, and judge for yourself how far it would be safe to go with him."

"At any rate, Johann, no other plan presents itself at present, and though I do not think it likely that much may come of it, it is at least worth the trying."

They rode back to Waldensturm, and an hour later Johann set out on foot, leaving his breast-and back-pieces behind him, and taking only his steel cap, which was dinted by many a blow, and his sword, for without a weapon of some kind no one in those days would think of travelling.

It was afternoon when he entered a wine-shop in the village half a mile from Goldstein. He chose a quiet-looking house of the better class, which would be more likely to be frequented by people coming in from the country round, than by the men from the castle. With a black patch over one eye, and his well-worn garments, he looked his character well. The landlady glanced with some disfavour at him, for she did not care for the custom of wayfarers.

"I can pay my way," he said, "and am no beggar, but a broken-down soldier, who has saved a little money in the wars;" and he laid a crown piece on the table. "I have been fighting against the Turks, and, as you see, lost an eye, and have almost lost my hearing; so I pray you to speak loudly. I have journeyed far, and am wearied, and desire to rest a day or two before I continue my journey to Luxembourg, my native town. I can promise you that I shall give you but little trouble."

"We will talk of that later on," the landlady said. "I do not know whether I can take you in, but if I cannot I will tell you where you can obtain a lodging in the village."

Johann made her repeat this twice, each time in a louder voice; then he nodded. "Thank you, mistress, I know that worn-out soldiers are not welcome customers at a house like yours, but I have ever been a quiet man, given neither to quarrelling nor drinking beyond what is seemly. I only desire a quiet house and such food as there may be, and a flask of the best wine; for it is long since I drank a flagon of good Moselle. And as my money will last me well until I get to Luxembourg, I can afford it. With it I will take, if it pleases you, some cold meat, if you have it, or if not, some cheese and fruit."

The landlady, seeing that the wayfarer was able to pay, and was likely to give no trouble, presently placed before him the food he asked for. When he had finished it, he took his seat in the corner of the room, taking the jug of wine, of which he had drunk sparingly, with him. The landlady paid no further attention to him till the day's work was over, and some of the neighbours dropped in, together with three or four persons from other villages on the estate, who had been in Goldstein on business, either to sell their vintage or crops or to arrange for their carriage by boat to Ems. In an hour or two these left, and only three or four of the traders of the village, who were accustomed to use the house as a sort of meeting-place, remained. They chatted for some time on different matters, casting occasionally somewhat suspicious glances at Johann, who was leaning back in his chair as if asleep. The landlady, observing this, said to them: "You need not mind him; he is an old soldier on his way back to Luxembourg. He is a very civil-spoken man, but he is almost as deaf as a post. I had almost to scream into his ear to make him understand me, and even if he were awake he would not hear a single word you say. I suppose that you have heard that Bertha Grun and Lisa Hermann will be released from the castle in a few days, and that Gretchen Horwitz and another girl have got to take their places. I hear that Bertha was told that she and Lisa and the other two were to wait on Minna von Waldensturm during alternate weeks."

"Yes, I heard it," the other said. "It passes all bearing that damsels should be thus taken against their will and that of their parents. Save for two or three old crones there have been no women in the castle since the baron's wife died, till Minna von Waldensturm was taken there after the sacking of their castle. They say that the baron is determined that she shall marry his son. I suppose he reckons upon young Waldensturm being killed in the wars, and then he can unite Waldensturm with Goldstein without anyone making an objection."

"I am sorry for her, for the youth is a lout, and they say as savage and as brutal as his father. We all know that the baron's ill-treatment brought his wife to her grave, and I should say that his son's wife would not fare much better."

"I am sorry for Conrad von Waldensturm," another said; "all spoke well of him who knew him. He was a gallant youth and kindly, and was likely to prove as good a master as his father was. It was a bad business, and I fear that there is little chance of his ever being righted; the elector is a great friend of the baron, whose castle, in case of troubles, would act as a bulwark against any enemy advancing up the river."

The conversation then turned to local matters: the amount of the vintage and the probability that it would turn out unusually good in quality. A quarter of an hour later Johann went up to the room that the landlady had told him he could occupy. The next morning, after a hearty breakfast, he told her that he felt so much better after a good night's rest that he would continue his journey, and after paying his reckoning he left the inn and returned to Waldensturm.

"You must have news for me, Johann," the count said as he came in; "I had not expected you for two or three days."

"I have news, and I think of importance;" and he related the conversation that he had overheard. "It struck me at once that this was the very thing that we wanted. One of the young women, who have been carried off against their will, to act as chamber-maidens to the Countess Minna, might be induced to befriend her, who is even more hardly dealt with than they are, and who is beloved by all who know her. Her escape, too, would release them from further attendance at the castle."

"You are right, Johann; 'tis a stroke of good fortune indeed that you have learned this, and it is of the more importance since it is evident that no time must be lost. For if the baron has once set his mind upon marrying Minna to his son, he may at any moment force her to do so. However great her repugnance to the match, it would weigh as nothing against his determination. I will myself take this matter in hand, and although I might be known were I to appear in my own dress, it is not likely anyone would recognize a well-to-do young farmer, or, what might be still better, a trader travelling with his wares, as Conrad von Waldensturm, whom all suppose to be far away, fighting against the Turks. The fathers of the girls are evidently substantial men, since their names were familiar to all those you heard talking. There would be no difficulty in finding them, and their places are probably not very far from Goldstein, as the baron would hardly send to distant farms or villages for the young women he required. I wish that I knew something of the men's disposition, for there are some who would put up with the outrage of their daughters being carried away against their will, meekly and quietly, while others would be stirred to the greatest anger."

"That is so, my lord, but as I believe that the baron is generally hated by his vassals, I think that there are few who would not be glad to do him an ill turn. Then you are thinking of speaking to them, and not to the girls themselves?"

"It would depend upon the fathers. A timid man, however much he might hate the count, would shrink from allowing his daughter to run the slightest risk, while a bold man would heartily enter into the scheme. It is easier to speak to a man than to get speech with a maiden. If, when I see them, it appears to me that they would not be likely to consent to their daughters taking any part in a plot, I would then wait, however long, for an opportunity of addressing one of the girls. You cannot go again, Johann, but we might send Henrick, who is a sharp fellow, to Goldstein. He might be dressed as a hind, giving out that he was seeking employment on a farm. He might say that he had been told that either of these two men was likely to give him employment, and might reasonably ask questions as to their characters before going to either."

"That would be a good plan, count. Henrick is lodging in a cottage down by the river, which escaped the notice of the baron's men. I can fetch him up in a quarter of an hour, and if he started at once he would be there this afternoon."

"Fetch him, by all means, Johann."

The sergeant had already told the soldier the nature of the work that he was required to undertake, and on his arrival he at once expressed to Conrad his willingness to carry it out.

"In the first place, you will go to Goldstein and find out where the men live, then you will go to the hamlet nearest to them, and you will have no difficulty whatever in learning the reputation in which they stand with their neighbours, and the characters they bear. They may live some distance apart, but it is important that you should find out about both. It is probable that they are well-to-do men, for the baron would not have taken the daughters of mere boors as attendants on his captive, but would have chosen maidens of good repute and manners."

It was not until late the next afternoon that Henrick returned.

"The men lived in different directions, count," he said, "and were each four miles from Goldstein, so that I could only hear about one yesterday evening, and had to walk to the village near where the other lived, which was six miles away, the next morning. Both are men with considerable holdings, and the fact that the baron has carried off their daughters has excited great indignation among their neighbours, though, of course, no one dares express his sentiments openly, least of all the two men themselves. Horwitz is said to be a man of sullen disposition, a hard man to those who work under him, very close and parsimonious in his dealings. Grun is much more popular among his neighbours; he is a kindly man and not easily stirred to anger. He is passionately attached to his daughter, who is his only child, and since she has had to go to the castle has not, it is said, left his house even to attend to the vintage."

"Then I will try Grun first," the count said. "A man of the nature you describe will not be likely to betray me even should he refuse to allow his daughter to assist me in any way. You have done very well, Henrick. To-morrow morning you will ride to Weisenheim and buy for me a suit of clothes such as the small traders who journey through the country selling goods would wear. Then go to various shops and buy such articles as they might carry--materials for dresses, ribbons, kerchiefs, and cheap silver ornaments,--make them up into a pack, and bring them hither. Do not buy all at one shop, even if they should have in store all that you require; your doing so would excite curiosity. Get materials for at least a dozen dresses--not common goods, but such as are worn on fête days. Here is money which will be amply sufficient for your purchases. You, Johann, will go to-morrow morning to a village beyond the estate and buy a small horse, with a saddle such as would be used for packing goods on; then I shall be ready for a start the next morning."

Both commissions were executed, and the young count started, leading the pony, whose burden was by no means a heavy one. He had learned the prices that Henrick had paid for each article, and fastened a ticket to each, as it was possible that he might be invited in by some of the country-people, and might ask either too much or too little for his wares, and so create suspicion that he was not what he seemed. He was indeed asked to show his goods several times, and as he charged rather under the price that he had given for them in the town, he effected several sales. About noon he arrived at the house of the farmer Grun. One of the maids, who saw him coming up, ran out.

"'Tis no use your stopping here," she said. "In bygone times it would have been different, but the master and mistress are both in deep grief."

"So I have heard," Conrad said, "and yet I would fain be allowed entrance, having need of speech with your master on a matter of importance. I pray you to tell him so."

She returned in a minute. "The master says that your visit is untimely, but that if the matter is of importance he will see you."

Tying up his pony to a hook in the wall, Conrad followed the maid into the house. A big powerful-looking man was sitting on a chair before the empty grate; he looked up listlessly at Conrad's entrance.

"I hope," he said, "young man, that you have not disturbed me in my trouble needlessly, or entered here under a false pretext?"

"Assuredly I do not enter needlessly, though I own that it is under a false pretext. And yet it is not so though; the matter I would speak of to you is of importance. I have heard, Herr Grun, that you are a kindly man, just in your dealings, and one to be trusted. I am going to trust you."

The farmer listened with increasing surprise as he spoke; his manner of speech was not one that a travelling pedlar of goods would have adopted, but was rather that of a man of rank.

"I am Conrad von Waldensturm," the young count went on. The farmer gave an exclamation of surprise, and rose to his feet. "I have just hurried back from the war, at the news that my castle had been destroyed, my estate ravaged, and my sister carried off. I have come home to rescue her. I heard of the outrage of which you and your daughter have been the victims, and, having made enquiries, I judge that you would not be one to sit down tamely under it."

"Tamely, no," the man said passionately, "and there is the pain of it! What can I, a tiller of the soil, do against my feudal lord? Show me the way to avenge myself, Count von Waldensturm, and be assured that you will not find me backward. There is not a man in the barony who would not see the castle razed to the ground with joy. What can we do? He has two hundred armed men within its walls, and could crush us as a hammer would crush an egg. We have suffered unnumbered wrongs at his hands and at those of his son, who is even worse than himself; but how with clubs and staves could we attack a castle that is the strongest in the electorate, and has never yet been taken. However, count, you have doubtless some plan in your mind that you have thus come to me. All knew and honoured your father, and envied those who held land under him, and it was reported that you, his son, would tread in his footsteps, and were already beloved by all his vassals."

"My first object," Conrad said, "is, as you may suppose, to rescue my sister from his hands. With that intention I returned home, and you may well believe that the news that the baron intends to wed her to his son has added to that desire, and has shown me the need for haste in carrying it out. The first thing is to ascertain exactly in what part of the castle she is confined, how she is guarded, and the manner in which her chamber could be approached. Having ascertained this, I must, of course, open communications with her so that she may be cognizant of my plans, and be ready to assist in their being carried out. But this is not all; the baron, and no doubt his son, with a party of men-at-arms, will set off in pursuit, and I shall have an ambush prepared. I have but some twenty men with me, all good soldiers, who have fought in the wars, and I hope to gather fifty more from our former vassals; this should be enough to ensure that none of the party who sally out shall return alive to the castle. Had I as many more determined men I might carry the castle by surprise, for I could, with my own troop, ride forward, and being taken for the baron, would find the gate open and the drawbridge down. Entering, I could hold the gate with my men until the rest, who would have followed close behind, rushed in, when we might well overcome the garrison, taken by surprise as they would be."