Baron de Trenck already had endured a year of arbitrary imprisonment in
the fortress of Glatz, ignorant alike of the cause of his detention or the
length of time which he was destined to spend in captivity.
During the early part of the month of September, Major Doo, aide to the
governor of the prison of Glatz, entered the prisoner's apartment for a
domiciliary visit, accompanied by an adjutant and the officer of the
guard.
It was noon. The excessive heat of the dying summer had grown almost
unsupportable in the tower chamber where Baron de Trenck was confined.
Half empty flagons were scattered among the books which littered his
table, but the repeated draughts in which the prisoner had sought
refreshment had only served to add to his ever-increasing exasperation.
The major ransacked every nook and corner of the prisoner's chamber and
the interior of such pieces of furniture as might afford a possible
hiding-place. Remarking the annoyance which this investigation caused the
baron, Doo said arrogantly:
"The general has issued his orders, and it is a matter of little
consequence to him whether or not they displease you. Your attempts to
escape have greatly incensed him against you."
"And I," retorted Trenck, with like hauteur, "am equally indifferent to
your general's displeasure. I shall continue to dispose of my time as may
best please me."
"Good!" replied the major, "but in your own interests you would be wiser
to philosophize with your books, and seek the key to the sciences, rather
than that of the fortress."
"I do not need your advice, major," the baron observed, with sovereign
disdain.
"You may perhaps repent later that you did not heed it. Your attempts to
escape have angered even the king, and it is impossible to say just how
far his severity toward you may go."
"But, great heavens! when I am deprived of my liberty without cause, have
I not the right to endeavor to regain it?"
"They do not see the matter in that light in Berlin. As a matter of fact
this spirit of revolt against your sovereign only serves to greatly
aggravate your crime."
"My crime!" Trenck exclaimed, trembling with anger.
His glance fell upon the major's sword and the thought came to him to tear
it from his side and pierce his throat with it. But in the same instant it
occurred to him that he might rather profit by the situation. Pale and
trembling as he was, he retained sufficient self-control to modify the
expression of his countenance and the tone of his voice, though his glance
remained fixed upon the sword.
"Major," he said, "no one can be called a criminal until he has been so
adjudged by the courts. Happily a man's honor does not depend upon the
inconsequent, malicious opinion of others. On the contrary blame should
attach to him who condemns the accused without a hearing. No constituted
power, whether that of king or judge, has yet convicted me of any culpable
action. Apart from the courtesy which should be observed between officers
of the same rank, you, out of simple justice, should refrain front such an
accusation."
"Every one knows," retorted Boo, "that you entered into relations with the
enemy."
"I? Great God!"
"Do you not consider the Pandours, then, as such?"
"I visited their chief solely as a relative. A glass of wine shared with
him in his tent can hardly be construed into a dangerous alliance!"
"But you hoped to inherit great riches from this relative. That hope might
well impel you to cross the frontier of Bohemia for all time."
"Why, what egregious folly! What more could I hope for than that which I
already possessed in Berlin? Was I a poor adventurer seeking his fortune
by his sword? Rich in my own right; enjoying to the full the king's favor;
attached to the court by all that satisfied pride could demand, as well as
by ties of the tenderest sentiments. What more was there for me to covet
or to seek elsewhere?"
The major turned his head aside with an air of indifference.
"One single fact suffices to discount everything you have said, Baron," he
replied dryly. "You have twice attempted to escape from the fortress. An
innocent man awaits his trial with confidence, knowing that it cannot be
other than favorable. The culprit alone flees."
Trenck, though quivering with blind rage, continued to maintain his former
attitude, his features composed, his eyes fixed upon the major's sword.
"Sir," he said, "in three weeks, on the twenty-fifth of September, I shall
have been a prisoner for one year. You in your position may not have found
the time long, but to me it has dragged interminably. And it has been
still harder for me to bear because I have not been able to count the days
or hours which still separate me from justice and liberty. If I knew the
limit set to my captivity--no matter what it may be--I could surely find
resignation and patience to await it."
"It is most unfortunate, then," said the major, "that no one could give
you that information."
"Say rather, would not," replied Trenck. "Surely, something of the matter
must be known here. You, for instance, major, might tell me frankly what
you think to be the case."
"Ah!" said Doo, assuming the self-satisfied manner of a jailer; "it would
not be proper for me to answer that."
"You would save me from despair and revolt," replied Trenck warmly. "For I
give you my word of honor that from the moment I know when my captivity is
to terminate--no matter when that may be, or what my subsequent fate--I
will make no further attempts to evade it by flight."
"And you want me to tell you----"
"Yes," interrupted Trenck, with a shudder; "yes, once again I ask you."
Doo smiled maliciously as he answered:
"The end of your captivity? Why, a traitor can scarcely hope for release!"
The heat of the day, the wine he had drunk, overwhelming anger and his
fiery blood, all mounted to Trenck's head. Incapable of further
self-restraint, he flung himself upon the major, tore the coveted sword
from his side, dashed out of the chamber, flung the two sentinels at the
door down the stairs, took their entire length himself at a single bound
and sprang into the midst of the assembled guards.
Trenck fell upon them with his sword, showering blows right and left. The
blade flashed snakelike in his powerful grasp, the soldiers falling back
before the fierce onslaught. Having disabled four of the men, the prisoner
succeeded in forcing his way past the remainder and raced for the first
rampart.
There he mounted the rampart and, never stopping to gauge its height,
sprang down into the moat, landing upon his feet in the bottom of the dry
ditch. Faster still, he flew to the second rampart and scaled it as he had
done the first, clambering up by means of projecting stones and
interstices.
It was just past noon; the sun blazed full upon the scene and every one
within the prison stood astounded at the miraculous flight in which Trenck
seemed to fairly soar through the air. Those of the soldiers whom Trenck
had not overthrown pursued, but with little hope of overtaking him. Their
guns were unloaded so that they were unable to shoot after him. Not a
soldier dared to risk trying to follow him by the road he had taken, over
the ramparts and moats; for, without that passion for liberty which lent
wings to the prisoner there was no hope of any of them scaling the walls
without killing himself a dozen times over.
They were, therefore, compelled to make use of the regular passages to the
outer posterns and these latter being located at a considerable distance
from the prisoner's avenue of escape, he was certain, at the pace he was
maintaining, to gain at least a half-hour's start over his pursuers.
Once beyond the walls of the prison, with the woods close by, it seemed as
if Trenck's escape was assured beyond doubt.
He had now come to a narrow passageway leading to the last of the inner
posterns which pierced the walls. Here he found a sentinel on guard and
the soldier sprang up to confront him. But a soldier to overcome was not
an obstacle to stop the desperate flight of the baron. He struck the man
heavily in the face with his sword, stunning him and sending him rolling
in the dust.
Once through the postern there now remained only a single palisade or
stockade--a great fence constructed of iron bars and iron trellis-work,
which constituted the outermost barrier between the fleeing prisoner and
liberty. Once over that iron palisade he had only to dash into the woods
and disappear.
But it was ordained that Trenck was not to overcome this last obstacle,
simple as it appeared. At a fatal moment, his foot was caught between two
bars of the palisade and he was unable to free himself.
While he was engaged in superhuman but futile efforts to release his foot,
the sentinel of the passage, who had picked himself up, ran through the
postern toward the palisade, followed by another soldier from the
garrison. Together they fell upon Trenck, overwhelming him with blows with
the butts of their muskets and secured him.
Bruised and bleeding he was borne back to his cell.
Major Doo informed Trenck, after this abortive attempt to escape, that he
had been condemned to one year's imprisonment only. That year was within
three weeks of expiring when the infamous major, who was an Italian,
goaded the unfortunate young man into open defiance of his sovereign's
mandate. His pardon was at once annulled and his confinement now became
most rigorous.
Another plot, headed by three officers and several soldiers of the guard,
who were friendly to Trenck, was discovered at the last moment--in time
for the conspirators themselves to escape to Bohemia, but under
circumstances which prevented Baron de Trenck from accompanying them.
This also served to increase the hardships of the prisoner's lot, and he
now found himself deprived of the former companionship of his friends and
surrounded by strangers, the one familiar face remaining being that of
Lieutenant Bach, a Danish officer, a braggart swordsman and ruffler, who
had always been hostile to him.
But, despite his isolation, the energy and strength of Trenck's character
were only augmented by his misfortunes, and he never ceased to plot for
his deliverance. Weeks passed without any fruitful event occurring in the
life of the prisoner, yet help was to come to him from a source from which
he could never have expected it. But before that fortuitous result was
destined to take place--in fact, as preliminary to its achievement--he was
destined to be an actor in the most remarkable scene that ever has been
recorded in the annals of prison life, and in one of the strangest duels
of modern times.
One day Trenck had cast himself fully clothed upon his bed, in order to
obtain a change of position in his cramped place of confinement.
Lieutenant Bach was on duty as his guard.
The young baron had retained in prison the proud and haughty demeanor
which had formerly brought upon him so much censure at court. Lieutenant
Bach's countenance also bore the imprint of incarnate pride.
The two exchanged from time to time glances of insolence; for the rest,
they remained silently smoking, side by side.
Trenck was the first to break the silence, for prisoners grasp every
opportunity for conversation, and at any price.
"It appears to me your hand is wounded, lieutenant," Trenck said. "Have
you found another opportunity to cross swords?"
"Lieutenant Schell, it seemed to me, looked somewhat obliquely at me,"
replied the Dane. "Therefore, I indulged him in a pass or two directed
against his right arm."
"Such a delicate youth, and so mild-mannered! Are you not ashamed?"
"What could I do? There was no one else at hand."
"Nevertheless he seems to have wounded you?"
"Yes, accidentally though, without knowing what he did."
"The fact, then, of having been expelled from two regiments for your
highhanded acts, and finally transferred to the garrison of the fortress
of Glatz as punishment, has not cured you of your fire-eating
propensities?"
"When a man has the reputation of being the best swordsman in Prussia he
values that title somewhat more than your military rank, which any clumsy
fool can obtain."
"You, the best swordsman!" exclaimed Trenck, concluding his remark with an
ironical puff of smoke.
"I flatter myself that such is the case," retorted Bach, emitting in turn
a great cloud of tobacco-smoke.
"If I were free," said Trenck, "I might, perhaps, prove to you in short
order that such is not the case."
"Do you claim to be my master at that art?"
"I flatter myself that such is the case."
"That we shall soon see," cried Bach, flushing with rage.
"How can we? I am disarmed and a prisoner."
"Ah, yes, you make your claim out of sheer boastfulness, because you think
we cannot put it to the test!"
"Truly, lieutenant, set me at liberty and I swear to you that on the other
side of the frontier we will put our skill to the test as freely as you
like!"
"Well, I am unwilling to wait for that. We will fight here, Baron Trenck."
"In this room?"
"After your assertion, I must either humble your arrogance or lose my
reputation."
"I shall be glad to know how you propose to do so?"
"Ah, you talk of Bohemia because that country is far away. As for me, I
prefer this one, because it affords an immediate opportunity to put the
matter to the test."
"I should ask nothing better if it were not impossible."
"Impossible! You shall see if it be."
Bach sprang up. An old door, supported by a couple of benches, had been
placed in the chamber for a table. He hammered at the worm-eaten wood and
knocked off a strip which he split in half. One of these substitutes for
rapiers he gave to Trenck, retaining the other himself, and both placed
themselves on guard.
After the first few passes, Trenck sent his adversary's make-shift sword
flying through space, and with his own he met the lieutenant full in the
chest.
"Touché!" he cried.
"Heavens! It is true!" growled Bach. "But I'll have my revenge!"
He went out hastily. Trenck watched him in utter amazement and he was even
more astounded when, an instant later, he saw Bach return with a couple of
swords, which he drew out from beneath his uniform.
"Now," he said to Trenck, "it is for you to show what you can do with good
steel!"
"You risk," returned the baron, smiling calmly, "you risk, over and above
the danger of being wounded, losing that absolute superiority in matters
of the sword of which you are so proud."
"Defend yourself, braggart!" shouted Bach. "Show your skill instead of
talking about it."
He flung himself furiously upon Trenck. The latter, seeming only to trifle
lightly with his weapon at first, parried his thrusts, and then pressed
the attack in turn, wounding Bach severely in the arm.
The lieutenant's weapon clattered upon the floor. For an instant he
paused, immovable, overcome by amazement; then an irresistible
admiration--a supreme tenderness, invaded his soul. He flung himself,
weeping, in Trenck's arms, exclaiming:
"You are my master!"
Then, drawing away from the prisoner, he contemplated him with the same
enthusiasm, but more reflectively, and observed:
"Yes, baron, you far exceed me in the use of the sword; you are the
greatest duelist of the day, and a man of your caliber must not remain
longer in prison."
The baron was somewhat taken by surprise at this, but, with his usual
presence of mind, he immediately set himself to derive such profit as he
might from his guardian's extravagant access of affection.
"Yes, my dear Bach," he replied, "yes, I should be free for the reason you
mention, and by every right, but where is the man who will assist me to
escape from these walls?"
"Here, baron!" said the lieutenant. "You shall regain your freedom as
surely as my name is Bach."
"Oh, I believe in you, my worthy friend," cried Trenck; "you will keep
your word."
"Wait," resumed Bach reflectively. "You cannot leave the citadel without
the assistance of an officer. I should compromise you at every step. You
have just seen what a hot-tempered scatterbrain I am. But I have in mind
one who admires you profoundly. You shall know who he is tonight, and
together we will set you at liberty."
Bach did, in fact, redeem his promise. He introduced Lieutenant Schell,
who was to be Trenck's companion during their arduous flight into Bohemia,
into the prisoner's cell, and himself obtained leave of absence for the
purpose of securing funds for his fellow conspirators. The plot was
discovered before his return and Schell, warned of this by one of the
governor's adjutants, hastened the day of their flight.
In scaling the first rampart, Schell fell and sprained his ankle so
severely that he could not use it. But Trenck was equal to all
emergencies. He would not abandon his companion. He placed him across his
shoulders, and, thus burdened, climbed the outer barriers and wandered all
night in the bitter cold, fleeing through the snow to escape his pursuers.
In the morning, by a clever ruse, he secured two horses and, thus mounted,
he and his companion succeeded in reaching Bohemia.
Trenck directed his course toward Brandenburg where his sister dwelt, near
the Prussian and Bohemian frontiers, in the Castle of Waldau, for he
counted upon her assistance to enable him to settle in a foreign land
where he would be safe.
The two friends, reduced shortly to the direst poverty, parted with their
horses and all but the most necessary wearing apparel. Even now, though in
Bohemia, they were not free from pursuit. Impelled one night, through
hunger and cold, to throw themselves upon the bounty of an inn-keeper,
they found in him a loyal and true friend. The worthy host revealed to
them the true identity of four supposed traveling merchants, who had that
day accosted them on the road and followed them to the inn. These men
were, in fact, emissaries from the fortress of Glatz who had attempted to
bribe him to betray the fugitives into their hands, for they were sworn to
capture Trenck and his companion and return them dead or alive to the
enraged governor of the fortress.
In the morning the four Prussians, the carriage, the driver, and the
horses set forth and soon disappeared in the distance.
Two hours later the fugitives, fortified by a good breakfast, took their
departure from the Ezenstochow inn, leaving behind them a man whom they,
at least, esteemed as the greatest honor to mankind.
The travelers hastened toward Dankow. They chose the most direct route and
tramped along in the open without a thought of the infamous spies who
might already be on their track.
They arrived at nightfall at their destination, however, without further
hindrance.
The next day they set out for Parsemachi, in Bohemia.
They started early, and a day in the open, together with a night's sleep,
had almost obliterated the memory of their adventure at the inn.
The cold was intense. The day was gray with heavy clouds that no longer
promised rain, but which shrouded the country with a pall of gloom. The
wind swirled and howled, and though the two friends struggled to keep
their few thin garments drawn closely about them, they still searched the
horizon hopefully, thinking of the journey's end and the peaceful
existence which awaited them. To their right, the aspect of the
countryside had altered somewhat. Great wooded stretches spread away into
the distance, while to the left all was yet free and open.
They had gone about half a mile past the first clump of trees when they
noticed, through the swaying branches by the roadside, a motionless object
around which several men busied themselves. With every step they gained a
clearer impression of the nature of this obstacle until, at last, an
expression of half-mockery, half-anger overspread their features.
"Now God forgive me!" exclaimed Schell finally, "but that is the infernal
brown traveling carriage from the inn!"
"May the devil take me!" rejoined Trenck, "if I delay or flee a step from
those miserable rascals."
And they strode sturdily onward.
As soon as they were within speaking distance, one of the Prussians, a big
man in a furred cap, believing them to be wholly unsuspicious, called to
them:
"My dear sirs, in heaven's name come help us! Our carriage has been
overturned and it is impossible to get it out of this rut."
The friends had reached an angle of the road where a few withered tree
branches alone separated them from the others. They perceived the brown
body of the carriage, half open like a huge rat-trap, and beside it the
forbidding faces of their would-be captors. Trenck launched these words
through the intervening screen of branches:
"Go to the devil, miserable scoundrels that you are, and may you remain
there!"
Then, swift as an arrow, he sped toward the open fields to the left of the
highroad, feigning flight. The carriage, which had been overturned solely
for the purpose of misleading them, was soon righted and the driver lashed
his horses forward in pursuit of the fugitives, the four Prussians
accompanying him with drawn pistols.
When they were almost within reaching distance of their prey they raised
their pistols and shouted:
"Surrender, rascals, or you are dead men!"
This was what Trenck desired. He wheeled about and discharged his pistol,
sending a bullet through the first Prussian's breast, stretching him dead
upon the spot.
At the same moment Schell fired, but his assailants returned the shot and
wounded him.
Trenck again discharged his pistol twice in succession. Then, as one of
the Prussians, who was apparently still uninjured, took to flight across
the plain he sped furiously after him. The pursuit continued some two or
three hundred paces. The Prussian, as if impelled by some irresistible
force, whirled around and Trenck caught sight of his blanched countenance
and blood-stained linen. One of the shots had struck him!
Instantly Trenck put an end to the half-finished task with a sword thrust.
But the time wasted on the Prussian had cost him dear. Returning hastily
to the field of action, he perceived Schell struggling in the grasp of the
two remaining Prussians. Wounded as he was, he had been unable to cope
single-handed with them, and was rapidly being borne toward the carriage.
"Courage, Schell!" Trenck shouted. "I am coming!"
At the sound of his friend's voice Schell felt himself saved. By a supreme
effort he succeeded in releasing himself from his captors.
Frantic with rage and disappointment, the Prussians again advanced to the
attack upon the two wretched fugitives, but Trenck's blood was up. He made
a furious onslaught upon them with his sword, driving them back step by
step to their carriage, into which they finally tumbled, shouting to the
driver in frantic haste to whip up his horses.
As the carriage dashed away the friends drew long breaths of relief and
wiped away the blood and powder stains from their heated brows. Careless
of their sufferings, these iron-hearted men merely congratulated each
other upon their victory.
"Ah, it's well ended, Schell," exclaimed Trenck, "and I rejoice that we
have had this opportunity to chastise the miserable traitors. But you are
wounded, my poor Schell!"
"It is nothing," the lieutenant replied carelessly; "merely a wound in the
throat, and, I think, another in the head."
This was the last attempt for a considerable time to regain possession of
Trenck's person. But the two friends suffered greatly from hardships and
were made to feel more than once the cruelty of Prussian oppression. Even
Trenck's sister, instigated thereto by her husband, who feared to incur
the displeasure of Frederick the Great, refused the poor fugitives
shelter, money, or as much as a crust of bread, and this after Trenck had
jeopardized his liberty by returning to Prussian soil in order to meet
her.
It was at this period, when starvation stared the exiles in the face, that
Trenck met the Russian General Liewen, a relative of Trenck's mother, who
offered the baron a captaincy in the Tobolsk Dragoons, and furnished him
with the money necessary for his equipment. Trenck and Schell were now
compelled to part, the latter journeying to Italy to rejoin relatives
there, the baron to go to Russia, where he was to attain the highest
eminence of grandeur.
Baron de Trenck, on his journey to Russia, passed through Danzig, which
was at that time neutral territory, bordering upon the confines of
Prussia. Here he delayed for a time in the hope of meeting with his cousin
the Pandour. During the interim he formed an intimacy with a young
Prussian officer named Henry, whom he assisted lavishly with money. Almost
daily they indulged in excursions in the environs, the Prussian acting as
guide.
One morning, while at his toilet, Trenck's servant, Karl, who was devoted
to him body and soul, observed:
"Lieutenant Henry will enjoy himself thoroughly on your excursion
to-morrow."
"Why do you say that, Karl?" asked the baron.
"Because he has planned to take your honor to Langführ at ten o'clock."
"At ten or eleven--the hour is not of importance."
"No! You must be there on the stroke of ten by the village clock. Langführ
is on the Prussian border and under Prussian rule."
"Prussia!" exclaimed Trenck, shaking his head, which Karl had not finished
powdering. "Are you quite sure?"
"Perfectly. Eight Prussians--non-commissioned officers and soldiers--will
be in the courtyard of the charming little inn that Lieutenant Henry
described so well. As soon as your honor crosses the threshold they will
fall upon you and bear you off to a carriage which will be in waiting."
"Finish dressing my hair, Karl," said Trenck, recovering his wonted
impassibility.
"Oh, for that matter," continued the valet, "they will have neither
muskets nor pistols. They will be armed with swords only. That will leave
them free to fall bodily upon your honor and to prevent you using your
weapon."
"Is that all, Karl?"
"No. There will be two soldiers detailed especially for my benefit, so
that I can't get away to give the alarm."
"Well, is that all!"
"No. The carriage is to convey your honor to Lavenburg, in Pomerania, and
you must cross a portion of the province of Danzig to get there. Besides
the under officers at the inn who will travel with your honor, two others
will accompany the carriage on horseback to prevent any outcry while you
are on neutral ground."
"Famously planned!"
"M. Reimer, the Prussian resident here, outlined the plot, and appointed
Lieutenant Henry to carry it out."
"Afterward, Karl?"
"That's all--this time--and it's enough!"
"Yes, but I regret that it should end thus, for your account has greatly
interested me."
"Your honor may take it that all I have said is absolutely correct."
"But when did you obtain this information?"
"Oh, just now!"
"And from whom?"
"Franz, Lieutenant Henry's valet, when we were watching the horses beneath
the big pines, while your honors waited in that roadside pavilion for the
shower to pass over."
"Is his information reliable?"
"Of course! As no one suspected him, the whole matter was discussed freely
before him."
"And he betrayed the secret?"
"Yes, because he greatly admires your honor and wasn't willing to see you
treated so."
"Karl, give him ten ducats from my purse and tell him I will take him in
my own service, for he has afforded me great pleasure. The outing
to-morrow will be a hundred times more amusing than I had hoped--indeed
more amusing than any I have ever undertaken in my life."
"Your honor will go to Langführ, then!"
"Certainly, Karl. We will go together, and you shall see if I misled you
when I promised you a delightful morning."
As soon as Baron de Trenck had completed his toilet, he visited M.
Scherer, the Russian resident, spent a few moments in private with him and
then returned to his apartments for dinner.
Lieutenant Henry arrived soon afterward. Trenck found delight in the
course of dissimulation to which he stood committed. He overwhelmed his
guest with courteous attentions, pressing upon him the finest wines and
his favorite fruits, meanwhile beaming upon him with an affection that
overspread his whole countenance, and expatiating freely upon the delights
of the morrow's ride.
Henry accepted his attentions with his accustomed dreamy manner.
The next morning, at half past nine, when the lieutenant arrived, he found
Trenck awaiting him.
The two officers rode off, followed by their servants, and took the road
to Langführ. Trenck's audacity was terrifying. Even Karl, who was well
aware of his master's great ability and cleverness, was nevertheless
uneasy, and Franz, who was less familiar with the baron's character, was
in a state of the greatest alarm.
The country, beautiful with its verdant grasslands, its budding bushes and
flowers, its rich fields of wheat, dotted with spring blossoms, revealed
itself to their delighted eyes. In the distance glistened the tavern of
Langführ, with its broad red and blue stripes and its tempting signboard
that displayed a well-appointed festive table.
The low door in the wall that enclosed the tavern courtyard was still
closed. Inside, to the right of that door, was a little terrace, and
against the wall was an arbor formed of running vines and ivy.
Lieutenant Henry, pausing near a clump of trees some two hundred paces
from the tavern, said:
"Baron, our horses will be in the way in that little courtyard. I think it
would be well to leave them here in the care of our servants until our
return."
Trenck assented readily. He sprang from his horse and tossed his bridle to
his valet and Henry did the same.
The path leading to the tavern was enchanting, with its carpet of flowers
and moss, and the two young men advanced arm in arm in the most
affectionate manner. Karl and Franz watched them, overwhelmed with
anxiety.
The door in the wall had been partly opened as they approached and the
young men saw, within the arbor on the terrace, the resident, Herr
Reimer--his three-cornered hat on his powdered wig, his arms crossed on
the top of the adjacent wall, as he awaited their coming.
As soon as the officers were within ear-shot, he called out:
"Come on, Baron de Trenck, breakfast is ready."
The two officers were almost at the threshold. Trenck slackened his pace
somewhat; then he felt Henry grip his arm more closely and forcibly drag
him toward the doorway.
Trenck energetically freed his arm, upon observing this movement that
spoke so eloquently of betrayal, and twice struck the lieutenant, with
such violence that Henry was thrown to the ground.
Reimer, the resident, realizing that Trenck knew of the plot, saw that the
time had come to resort to armed intervention.
"Soldiers, in the name of Prussia, I command you to arrest Baron de
Trenck!" he shouted to the men who were posted in the courtyard.
"Soldiers, in the name of Russia!" Trenck shouted, brandishing his sword,
"kill these brigands who are violating the rights of the country."
At these words, six Russian dragoons emerged suddenly from a field of
wheat and, running up, fell upon the Prussians who had rushed from the
courtyard at the resident's command.
This unexpected attack took the Prussians by surprise. They defended
themselves only half-heartedly and finally they fled in disorder, throwing
away their weapons, and followed by the shots of the Russians.
Lieutenant Henry and four soldiers remained in the custody of the victors.
Trenck dashed into the arbor to seize Resident Reimer, but the only
evidence of that personage was his wig, which remained caught in the
foliage at an opening in the rear of the arbor through which the resident
had made his escape. Trenck then returned to the prisoners.
As a fitting punishment for the Prussian soldiers, he commanded his
dragoons to give each of them fifty blows, to turn their uniforms
wrongside out, to decorate their helmets with straw cockades, and to drive
them thus attired across the frontier.
While his men proceeded to execute his orders, Trenck drew his sword and
turned to Lieutenant Henry.
"And now, for our affair, lieutenant!" he exclaimed.
The unfortunate Henry, under the disgrace of his position, lost his
presence of mind. Hardly knowing what he did, he drew his sword, but
dropped it almost immediately, begging for mercy.
Trenck endeavored to force him to fight, without avail, then, disgusted
with the lieutenant's cowardice, he caught up a stick and belabored him
heartily, crying:
"Rogue, go tell your fellows how Trenck deals with traitors!"
The people of the inn, attracted by the noise of the conflict, had
gathered around the spot, and, as the baron administered the punishment,
they added to the shame of the disgraced lieutenant by applauding the
baron heartily.
The punishment over and the sentence of the Prussians having been carried
out, Trenck returned to the city with his six dragoons and the two
servants.
In this affair, as throughout his entire career, Trenck was simply
faithful to the rule which he had adopted to guide him through life:
"Always face danger rather than avoid it."