AT THE CASTLE OF HRADSCHIN.
It was not difficult to find at the sign of the Lily a couple of worthy
merchants who were returning on the morrow to Gotha, and they readily
promised Nigel to act as escort so far. From Gotha it would go hard if
the girls did not get a safe journey to Eisenach.
The parting was brief. Some tears sprang to the ready eyes of Elspeth.
Ottilie's eyes showed nothing. Her lips repeated, "Till we meet again,
captain!" The pastor nodded sulkily. No sooner had the coach rumbled off
than Nigel sprang to his saddle, and together with his comrade, the
lieutenant, and the escort, trotted to the merry jingle of the
accoutrements and the clash of hoofs out of Erfurt over Steiger Hill on
the road for Rudolfstadt. In consultation with some of the garrison he
had planned to ride through the forest to Rudolfstadt, thence to Plauen,
pass the night there, cross the Erzgebirge on the next day, and push
into Bohemia as far as Pilsen; by good fortune they might be at Budweis
on the evening of the third day and in Vienna by the afternoon of the
fourth.
After surmounting Steiger the road lay straight enough across a broad
valley through a round dozen of hamlets, and at the tenth mile they
crossed the Ilm and began to ascend a more winding road, which, six
miles farther, brought them to Rudolfstadt. Here they made their midday
meal, and without delaying over the wine-pot, made good speed into the
hills that lay between them and Plauen, the chief city of the Vogtland.
The Vogt had been careful to choose a high country for his dwelling, and
so the horses found it no easy finish to their day's work to climb as
they had to do to bed and fodder.
So far Nigel had paid little heed to any demonstrations of Lutheran
spirit. Erfurt, for all it had nursed Luther out of monkhood into flat
heresy, was still Catholic. Rudolfstadt was towards the outskirts of the
Thüringer Wald and a mere hamlet, though it bore a kingly name. The
other villages that lay between it and Plauen were inconsiderable, and
Nigel did not let his men linger when traversing them. It was quite
possible that the news of the sack of Magdeburg had preceded him, but it
was unlikely that any force of the soldiers of Gustavus or of his allies
were in the neighbourhood, and against any undisciplined throng of
turbulent Protestants Nigel felt secure, if he were not greatly
outnumbered.
But as soon as the gates closed behind him and his men, he became aware
from the looks of the people and their answers to his questions that he
had come into a very hornet's nest. Arms seemed to be the customary
wear, and in at least two of the squares he noticed stout burghers and
apprentices practising drill under the guidance of men of martial
bearing.
Instead of making, as he would have done, for an inn, he rode right
through the town to the castle of Hradschin, which was the one place
inside the town that promised security, if not good cheer, and was held
on behalf of the Emperor by an officer who represented in a shadowy way
the ancient dignity and function of the Vogt of long ago.
There he found the drawbridge up and the sentinels on guard, but he was
admitted without much parley to find that the officer in question was an
old comrade of his Wallenstein days, one Hildebrand von Hohendorf, who
received him with open arms and a full flagon, and whose eyes roamed
over the twenty well-appointed troopers with much satisfaction.
The burly Commandant's eye, as he sat back in his great chair after the
first part of the supper was despatched, lit upon Nigel with great
good-humour.
"So you are a captain of Tilly's, my boy! And I warrant you get another
step if you carry despatches safely to Vienna! Some people have all the
luck. And I wager you've a good round bag of golden crowns in your
wallet as it is."
"As to that," said Nigel, "I left a few odd thalers with an honest
banker at Erfurt. I know better than to carry much gold about me."
"Sly fellows, you Scots! Ha! ha! ha! A few odd thalers! Why, the sack of
miserly Madgeburg must have been like drawing water in a bucket from a
brimming well! And here I sit cooped up in Hradschin, and draw a few
groschen a day for running the risk of a Lutheran bullet, or a crack
from a sledge-hammer every time I go into the town, and the saints above
know when I shall be able to get back to the wars."
"Why didn't you do the same as the others, and join Tilly?"
"In the first place, I got the offer of Hradschin, and in the second
place, my own little estate of Hohendorf is but a few miles to the
north, over by Elsterberg, and I can keep a better eye upon it than if I
were wandering about with Tilly. And in the third place, when one has
served with Wallenstein, it isn't the same thing to serve with Tilly."
"And in the fourth place, Hildebrand, you seem to have a good larder and
a good cellar!"
Hildebrand laughed a hearty contented laugh.
"I like them better than your Restitution Edict! Well, Hendrick?"
A soldier had come in and stood at attention.
"There is a tumult in the town, Commandant. They have assembled on the
other side of the moat with torches and weapons."
"Bid them all go to the devil and come back to-morrow morning!"
"Yes, Commandant!"
The soldier returned in a few minutes.
"They will have speech with you, Commandant!"
"Confound them all for disturbers of the peace! I am coming. This is a
new caper!"
The Commandant donned his corselet and headpiece, and accompanied by
Nigel came out on the roof of a small tower that overlooked the
drawbridge.
There was the moat below and a narrow one at that. But it was a
sufficient barrier.
"Silence for the Commandant!" shouted the sergeant of the guard. There
was silence in the grim-looking crowd that stood many deep on the other
side, torches and lanterns lighting up the faces of some and leaving
others mere shadowy patches, lighting up, too, the faces of many steel
weapons and the barrels of many firelocks.
"Now Johann Pfarrer! In God's name tell us what this is all about, and
let a man get back to his supper!"
"Magdeburg!" shouted Johann Pfarrer with a voice like a deep-toned
trumpet.
"Aye! Magdeburg!" The crowed echoed and roared it lustily with a curious
note of wild anger in the throat.
"Well, friends? What have I to do with Magdeburg?"
"Just this!" said Johann Pfarrer. "To-night we have heard an exact
relation of the sack of Magdeburg. You have with you one of Tilly's
captains and twenty of his hell-born riders."
"Faith, Johann! you may be right! I don't know where they were born.
They are all good Germans!"
"The more shame!" growled Johann. "Now, Commandant, we are not joking.
Deliver them all up to us, officers and men!"
"For what? Who ever heard of a German delivering up his guests? Tut!
tut! man!"
"There is no 'Tut! tut!' about it," retorted Johann. "We are going to
hang them. Blood for blood! Vengeance for Magdeburg!"
"What nonsense you talk," said Hildebrand in his jolly cajoling fashion.
"Why should you or I trouble about Magdeburg? Let the Brandenburgers
look after themselves. You don't owe them anything!"
"They are our brothers in the faith," said another voice, and a Lutheran
pastor stood out from the throng.
"Yes! Yes! Our brothers in the faith." The bystanders took up the cry
till it reached the outskirts of the throng, seemingly a long way back.
"Well! I take my orders from the Emperor!" said Hildebrand. "You had
better go and ask him! I give up my guests for no one. Now go away home
to your suppers and your wives and don't trouble your heads with
politics!"
"You hear, friends?" shouted Johann, turning to his comrades. "You hear
what Commandant von Hohendorf tells us. Shall we?"
"No! A thousand noes!" was the reply from hundreds of throats, and the
ominous rattle of weapons gave it emphasis. "Storm the castle! Burn
down old Hradschin! Death to the hell-riders," came from all sides.
Nigel, standing on the battlements in the rear of the Commandant, was
not recognisable from below, but could very well distinguish the faces
of most of those who stood in the front of the throng. They were drawn
from all classes in the town, which, it was clear, was stirred to its
depths. There were few women, and only two of these had ventured near to
the leaders. Nigel surveyed the assembly with the indifference of the
soldier to the execrations of a crowd of citizens, and the added feeling
of detachment from the exasperation which they felt at the slaughter of
some of their own countrymen by others of their own countrymen in the
pay of the Emperor, who was far on the other side of the mountains. His
curiosity was alert, however, and when his eyes rested on the two women,
whose heads were enveloped in hoods that left most of the face in
impenetrable shadow, he strove to estimate their condition, whether
gentle or simple. In bearing they both seemed apart from the burghers
with whom they mingled. One of them was tall for a woman, and, when she
moved, did so with a gesture that marked her at least as no housewife.
The other's movements were quick, and reminded Nigel of a hen moving and
pecking with sudden jerks of fussiness. Then for a moment, as the
Commandant was speaking, the tall woman looked upward and the ruddy
light from a neighbouring torch fell upon her face for a mere instant,
but it was long enough. Nigel drew his cloak about him with a shiver.
The woman appeared to have the eyes and mouth of Ottilie von Thüringen.
He was sure it was not she. She had started for Gotha. He had seen her
in the coach, and at the head of his men had ridden, not, it was true,
at breakneck speed, but at a good pace, wasting no time.
Some one, it was clear, had arrived in the town who had witnessed the
sack of Magdeburg, and striven to and contrived to inflame the
townspeople to a fever point. But even supposing, what was impossible,
that the mysterious Ottilie had ridden by other roads and reached Plauen
at his heels, what could her errand be? She was a Catholic. It was
unthinkable to believe that she could be seeking to inflame the minds of
Protestants to the butchery of a score of troopers in the service of the
Emperor out upon a peaceful task of escort duty.
It passed through his mind and was dismissed. Hildebrand turned to him.
"The pigs! They will be less noisy in the morning. Let us go in and
finish our wine. Hradschin can stand a few hard words and even a few
knocks such as they can give, unless Gustavus sends them a few cannon."
As they went in the tumult grew in volume, but it was soon lost to their
ears as they once more resumed their wine within the thick walls.
"The devil of it is," said the Commandant, "that there will be no
getting out of the place while they are in this mind. They will guard
all the roads. And your men are all needed here if they make an attack
in force to-morrow."
"The despatches do not admit of delay," said Nigel, who had no mind to
be cooped up in Hradschin for a week. "If I cannot leave with the men, I
must leave without them."
"But how are you going to get out of the town? You must cross the river,
and the bridge will be guarded. There's your horse, too. Still, as you
say, there are the despatches."
"Surely, if I start two hours before dawn, I can get the gates open
after overpowering the guard. My twenty troopers ought to manage that.
How far is it from here to the bridge?"
"Four hundred yards! But four hundred yards, of which at least a hundred
are down a narrow street to the bridge-head, supposing the pigs are on
the watch, are as bad as four miles. You know what it is to ride through
a press of people. You and your troopers would be pulled from your
horses in no time. We must think! Pass the flagon, comrade!"
"Lieutenant! Make the round of the ramparts with one of the Commandant's
soldiers and see what the dispositions are, whether one can leave the
castle and how. One cannot make one's plans for leaving the town if one
cannot first leave the castle."
"True!" said Hildebrand, who was secretly desirous of retaining the
twenty troopers to defend Hradschin. "And sound your men as to whether
they will risk a rope with Captain Charteris or remain here with me."
Nigel would have been inclined to resent this, but as Hildebrand was his
host he said nothing, only being quite resolved that in the end his men
should obey orders, hanging or no hanging.
Then they fell to discuss the road Nigel should take.
"Pilsen is a long journey through the hills!" said the Commandant. "Why
not make for Eger? There is a strong garrison at Eger. If you reach
there in safety you can get another escort to Vienna, and when things
are quiet your men can slip out and go there to await your return." In
this way the Commandant made it a more familiar idea to Nigel's mind
that he should go alone. And Nigel, on his part, resolved that alone, or
accompanied, it would be easier to escape that night, when the citizens
would be drowsy with their unwonted watching, say two hours before dawn,
than on the morrow when the threatened attack began. The heart of the
difficulty to his mind would be the gate at the bridge-head. Even if
the guard were overcome there would still be delay, and delay would be
fatal.
The lieutenant returned and reported that watch-fires were lit and
burning at all the four avenues which gave egress from the neighbourhood
of the castle, and at each was a strong guard, all armed with muskets.
Any one coming from the castle could be seen. The crowd had dispersed.
The three soldiers put their heads together over a plan of the town, and
Nigel asked question after question till he had extracted all the facts
he could from the Commandant. Then he asked the Commandant for the
quickest-witted of his men, and sent for Sergeant Blick, one of the
escort, by special request of Nigel, who had great confidence in his
fidelity.
In a quarter of an hour the two men dropped into a flat-bottomed boat
kept at a small back gate of the castle for the convenience of the
kitchens. And mooring it carefully on the other side, they stood
half-way between the fires and the guards to the north and those to the
south. The soldier belonging to the castle tapped at a window in the
street which faced the castle again and again. Presently the knock was
answered. The casement opened. The soldier got through, and burly
Sergeant Blick waited for the door to open. Then he entered too. A few
words with the goodwife, who supplied the soldiers of the garrison with
spiced sausages, and they departed through a door at the back of the
house into a darkness that could scarcely have been bettered.
As the clock of the Rathhaus struck one past midnight there gathered in
its shadows a knot of men. By a quarter past there were twenty, and at
half-past there were forty. Every man came by himself and stealthily,
and every man came armed, and was surprised to find so many others
there before him, except only the first three, and they were very old in
comradeship. As each man came up he murmured "Waldstein," and waited in
the gloom in silence.
As the clock of the Rathhaus struck one past midnight Sergeant Blick and
two or three men who, like him, knew something about horses, were as
silently as possible yoking horses, and in some cases oxen, which had
complacently folded their legs and gone to sleep chewing the cud as
industriously as usual, to the waggons that stood in the market street
and market-place. The noise of horses and waggons clattering or creaking
was nothing to the dwellers in that part of the town.
One of the ostlers led away a waggon creaking and rumbling. The ostler
was a good Catholic, and had a solid crown piece in his breeches. Then
the other led away a waggon. Then when the first ostler had returned,
Sergeant Blick started, and by half-past one eight waggons were disposed
across the streets that led to the castle and not far from the men round
the watch-fires. The horses were brought back again.
At half-past one the men in the shadows of the Rathhaus saw one who
walked like a soldier come towards them, and as he halted just outside
the shadows they could see the glint of his casque and heard him call
them sharply to attention. In a trice they had arranged themselves in
two lines as they had been used to do in Wallenstein's army. They had no
doubt it was one of Wallenstein's officers, and one or two thought they
remembered the voice.
They marched without hesitation towards the castle, and creeping past
the waggons ranged up again in order. One or two of the guard not so
overcome with sleep as the others--for your watch-fire, especially if it
be smoky, as it can easily be, is a monstrous soporific--glanced round
uneasily at the clink of arms and peered into the shadows and saw
nothing. Then came a word of command, and, before they could all spring
to their weapons, Nigel and his levy were upon them, had beaten every
man to the earth, scattered the watch-fire where it would, and then,
re-forming, passed on. They halted in front of the drawbridge of the
castle. It was let down, and nineteen troopers and the lieutenant came
over the moat and formed up. Nigel said a word to the lieutenant and
passed on with his footmen till he sighted the second watch-fire. Once
again his besom of men swept the watchers, and this time they were
caught by the barricade of waggons, and every man, who was not laid flat
and helpless by sword or pike or stave, was trussed up till further
need. The waggons were dragged aside, and the horsemen trotted towards
the narrow street that led to the bridge-head and the old soldiers
marched behind as a rearguard, still led by Nigel. When they got within
bowshot of the gate the horsemen rode down upon the guard and made them
deliver up the keys.
The gates were opened. Nigel sprang to the spare horse, and said a
thankful farewell to the old soldiers and to Plauen.
His last words to the old soldiers had been--
"If Wallenstein wants you again, will you come?"
And every man had growled out, "Aye, with a will!"