TILLY, COUNT OF TZERCLAËS.
"So, sir, you would leave me for Wallenstein!" said the dry, wiry old
man with the short grey beard resting on a charger of ruff, looking
keenly out of a pair of very sharp eyes, which were the eyes of General
Tilly, Count of Tzerclaës. "What in thunder made you think Wallenstein
was in favour again?"
"It is true then, General?"
"It may prove true in time. It depends on Gustavus, on Magdeburg, on
Saxony. Are you by chance a necromancer? Your calf country has produced
a brood of them at times. And your King Jamie, who was father-in-law to
our famous Winter King by the way, made rather a name for himself
rooting out the witches, didn't he?"
Nigel Charteris knew Count Tilly's predilection for a gird at foreign
officers. But as the old general was in a good vein he made no attempt
to defend the memory of King Jamie, who was dead, and had died a
Protestant, to Nigel in itself a proof of something lacking in his
intelligence.
"Not I, General! I had it from a haughty damsel I found in the same
house with the nest of Magdeburgers I brought you."
"Who was she, captain?"
"She gave herself out to be the Lady Ottilie of Thüringen! She is of a
surety highly-born. But I didn't know what to make of her. She is not
given to much speech, and what there is is tart in flavour. Would she by
chance be a daughter of the Landgrave? She hinted at the Wartburg."
"Not she! The Landgrave has no daughter. I should like to see this
damsel. She may tell an old man more than she would tell a young one
like yourself. Send for her!"
Nigel gave an order to a soldier.
"As for Wallenstein, it may well be later on. At present it behoves me
to let the Emperor know fully about Magdeburg, what men we have lost and
what dispositions I am making, for, look you, this matter must needs
rouse Gustavus and bring him about my ears. I can well spare you for a
matter of ten days to ride to Vienna to bring me word again. What say
you? Will you be the messenger?"
"With the greatest goodwill, General!" There was no mistaking the
sentiments of the younger man. He was a soldier, and knew that this way
leads to advancement.
"It should serve your turn. I know a soldier when I see one, and you
have quitted yourself manfully."
"Thanks, General!" Nigel glowed all over with his commendation.
At this moment the unknown lady made her entrance. Count Tilly signed to
Nigel to stay: raising his fine eyebrows with a movement that gave him a
quizzical air, and a slightly amused look crept into his face. He rose
and bowed politely--
"The Lady Ottilie of Thüringen?"
A look flashed from her eyes to Count Tilly's as she bowed in return.
"It is the name by which I am known to your officer here!"
"There is a singular likeness between your face and that of a lady I
once met at the court of Vienna," said Count Tilly, as if it were a
matter of no moment.
"Indeed!" she said unmovedly. "At the present moment I am seeking a
safe-conduct to Thüringen, for myself and two persons in whom I am
interested."
"To what part?"
"To Eisenach, or, if not, then to any point on the frontiers!"
"And your business, madame?"
"To restore my friends to their families, and rest, after the horrors to
which you have subjected us, Count."
Tilly made no sign of displeasure. The air of amused courtesy still sat
in his eyes, in his manner.
"How long have you been in Magdeburg?" he asked.
"Ten days, reckoned by time," she said with meaning.
"You must have changed into a cat, or an owl, to get into the city ten
days ago!" he said, surveying her calmly. "Yes. It was possible to
_you_. Now, are you ready to start at once?"
"Within an hour, Count!"
"Good! Captain Charteris here will escort you and your party as far as
Erfurt. After that you must make your own plans!"
The Lady Ottilie von Thüringen did not look overjoyed at the news. She
stole a glance at the captain, who on his side evinced no rejoicing, and
then at the general. One might have supposed that she suspected some
design on the part of the elder man.
"It is the utmost I can hope for, I suppose," she said grudgingly.
"Women should stay at home!" said the Count. "Especially girls of your
age and condition," he added, waving his hand in token of dismissal.
The lady's lips curled as she bowed and withdrew. It was plain she was
accustomed to having her own way, and not accustomed to being rebuked by
generals, however eminent.
"My young friend," the Count went on to Nigel, "you will have a curious
convoy as far as Erfurt. When you leave them at Erfurt, see that some
trustworthy men are to accompany them. I seldom forget faces, and more
rarely voices. Be careful. Look closely after her. Find out what you
can! Don't make love to her! It is of no importance to you what I think.
I may be misled by a resemblance. It is a thousand chances that I am.
But for you, the less you know at the outset the better for you. It is a
great protection sometimes not to know anything. Here is an order for a
lieutenant and twenty troopers. Take any travelling carriage and four
horses you can lay hands on. And stay, here are a hundred gold crowns
for your expenses. On leaving Erfurt you will go as fast as possible to
Vienna, after which, God be with you till we meet again!"
Nigel pocketed the crowns and the blessing with a good grace, thanked
Count Tilly, and saluted. It was not often that an officer found such
favour with the dry old general.
He was too busy during the next hour with his preparations to trouble
his head with the speculations of Count Tilly as to the identity of
"dark Ottilie," as he called her to himself. In point of fact he was
rather disappointed to be called upon to act as escort even as far as
Erfurt. He would so much more willingly have ridden by the shortest road
to Vienna, where his ambition was already, if we may speak of a man's
desire outstripping his body by three days or so.
For his secret heart sang "Wallenstein," and not "Ottilie" dark or fair.
Yet Wallenstein, for the little that Nigel Charteris had seen of him, or
knew of him through others, was not a man to be beloved of men. He had
been twice married, which might prove that he was beloved of women, or
not, according to the side the pleader took. Nigel could recall without
difficulty the long narrow face with the large ears set close back
against the head, the high deeply-furrowed brow, the thoughtful
scrutinising eyes from which all laughter was absent, the plain linen
collar turned flatly down over his cuirass, the little tuft on his chin,
the look of solid power about the face as a whole, a face dominated by
resolution rather than pride.
What was it then that drew Nigel Charteris to him? It was perhaps the
sense of the orderliness and discipline that prevailed about the famous
general and emanated from him. It was perhaps the audacity that had led
him to offer, in the dark days of the empire, to raise an army of twenty
thousand men which should cost the Emperor nothing but his mandate, or
the sound foresight that in fact provided thirty thousand for the war of
'26. Nigel Charteris had marched with him as a mere subaltern to the
crushing defeat of Mansfeld at Dessau on the Elbe, had joined in the
resistless pursuit through Silesia, through Mähren into Hungary, where
Mansfeld was striving to unite with Bethlem Gabor of Siebenbürgen, most
turbulent of Electors. Nigel had seen the army of thirty thousand grow
into seventy thousand, and the Emperor able to dictate in the affairs of
Europe. There had been nothing to equal Wallenstein's army in the world.
And then the Habsburger, listening to jealousies, to his own fears
perhaps, to the Jesuits certainly, to Maximilian of Bavaria, had bidden
Wallenstein, laden as he was with honours and riches, lay down his
baton. Wallenstein had made no demur, raised no standard of rebellion,
had gone into retirement. The army mouldered away regiment by regiment.
Some had joined Tilly, like Nigel. More had become idlers in the great
cities. It had been Wallenstein's army. Without him to command even the
Emperor could not keep the snows from melting.
And now came this mysterious message that Wallenstein would be summoned
again. His old officers would be flocking back. Nigel felt it in his
bones. Loyalty to a great leader is one of the strongest engines in the
world, least visible to the eye, most potent in effect.
A travelling carriage was found, the body hung by leathern straps,
steadied by light chains, to the solid box and hinder seats, which were
just above the axles. From somewhere had sprung two serving maids, the
one a plump, wide-chested, short Saxon girl, evidently a retainer of
Elspeth Reinheit; the other, an older, slightly-wizened woman of dark
complexion, with a certain air about her of one accustomed to the
chambers of great ladies, of one above the common herd of waiting women,
and as plainly the attendant of Ottilie of Thüringen. The two had
probably been hidden in some garret of the house in Magdeburg, and
followed their mistresses, having no other goal to make for, to the
outskirts of the camp. The Saxon girl was already on terms of
familiarity with the troopers. The other held herself pursed up and
aloof.
Nigel mounted the two on the hinder seat of the coach, their mistresses
within, and presently gave the order to the lieutenant, who sent on two
men in advance. Nigel and the lieutenant followed at the head of ten
troopers. The other eight rode behind as a rearguard.
They gave a glance back at the smoking ruins of Magdeburg, out of which
still rose some spires of churches which had successfully defied the
conflagration, and were no longer the objective of Tilly's cannon, and
rode along the level road towards Strassfurt, comparing their military
experiences of the last three days.
The young pastor had been mounted on a horse of indifferent mettle, and
rode as well as he was able behind the coach just in front of the
rearguard. It was clear that he was not in a grateful frame of mind,
notwithstanding his freedom. Nor had he any great reason to be, for was
not the fall of this great city of Magdeburg, this stronghold of
Protestantism, an open and visible sign of the hated Edict?