DARLINGER AGAIN
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."
"'Tis a good plan!" the farmer said, striding up and down the room,
"and methinks that not only can I promise you the aid of my daughter,
but can bring some score of stout fellows to aid you. The hired
ruffians of the baron are hated as much as he is; they enter every
house they choose and demand victuals and wine, insult the women
with their foul oaths and coarse manners, lay hands on anything they
fancy, and treat us as if we were a conquered people and they were our
masters. 'Tis worse than useless to complain of them to the baron. A
neighbour of mine did so, and he was hung over the gate as a lesson to
the rest of us. Some of us have talked the matter over again and again,
as to whether it would not be possible to attack the baron when he rode
out with a party of his men; but if we did so, and were successful,
the neighbouring lords would all unite against us as rebels against
our master, and the whole country would be harried, and those who were
caught hung like dogs. But under your leading it would be a different
matter; it would be a feud between two nobles. What would you do with
the castle, sir?"
"I should hold it as my own," Conrad said. "Goldstein has destroyed
Waldensturm. Waldensturm in turn captures Goldstein. I should appeal to
the emperor, if the elector takes part against me, and shall offer to
hold the fiefs of Goldstein and Waldensturm as the emperor's vassal.
I know that he would grant it to me, and that, were the elector to
besiege the castle he would lay his orders on some of the neighbouring
princes, either Hesse or Luxembourg, to give me aid."
"Then in that case, count, you may reckon upon the aid of fully a
hundred men. There is not only the hate against the baron and his
followers, but the prospect of becoming your vassals instead of those
of the baron; which would mean prosperity and happiness instead of
being ground down by his unjust demands, and exposed to constant
insults and injury from him and his. And now, my lord, I will call my
daughter in, tell her your designs, and bid her not only to answer your
questions, but to aid you by every means in her power."
Bertha was sent for; she was a pretty, modest-looking girl, but her
face told of recent suffering.
"Bertha," her father said, "this is the Count von Waldensturm. He has
returned home from the wars to rescue his sister, and I charge you to
answer all his questions, and to aid him in every way to the best of
your powers."
"That will I readily, for the young countess has been very kind to
me, and we pity her deeply. She saved us from insult on the part of
the baron's son, and she appealed to the baron himself to allow us to
remain always with her, and not even to descend to the kitchens to
fetch her food; and the baron, who evidently wishes to humour her in
small matters, gave the order."
"That is just what I should have thought of Minna," Conrad said in a
tone of deep pleasure. "Now, fräulein, in what part of the castle is my
sister confined?"
"In a room in the north angle. It is some fifty feet from the courtyard
into which it looks."
"Is the window barred?"
"No," the girl said; "the lower windows are strongly guarded, but on
this floor they are not so."
"Then I take it, that, if she had a rope, you and the other maiden
could easily lower her to the ground?"
"We could do that easily enough, count; but were she there she would
be no nearer escaping. There is always a guard at the gate, and the
drawbridge is up at night; and even when across that there is the outer
court to be passed."
"Are there stairs to the wall near where she would alight?"
"Yes, sir, there is a flight of stairs in the angle just below our
window."
"The next thing I have to think about is your safety. As you sleep in
her room it would be clear that she could not have escaped without your
knowledge and assistance, and the baron, in his fury, would be capable
of slaying you both."
"And he would certainly do so," the farmer said shortly.
"Then it is clear that either they must escape with my sister or must
hide somewhere."
"But we must be found sooner or later," the girl said.
"Not if my plan succeeds, Bertha. I intend that the escape shall be
known as soon as it is completed, that the baron shall set out in
pursuit, that we shall have an ambush prepared for him, and that he
shall not return to the castle, which I, with my retainers and vassals,
and your father's assistance, will then capture.
"In that case it would be easy enough for us to hide," the girl said.
"There are chambers in the castle that none ever enter, and we could
without difficulty conceal ourselves there. We could either do that or
escape with the young countess."
"I will think it over," Conrad said. "Are there sentries on the walls?"
"There are two on the tower over the gate, but none along the wall
itself. At least, the two are there in the daytime, but I have never
looked out at night."
"It was only yesterday morning that you were released, so we have five
days to think over our plans. By the way, would it be possible for you
to descend from your room to the courtyard at night without passing
through occupied rooms or otherwise attracting attention? because, if
so, there would be no necessity for lowering my sister from the window."
"I think so, sir. There is a staircase by which there is communication
both with the floor above and that below. It is a small stone winding
stair in the thickness of the wall. I have never been up or down it; it
connects with our room by a short passage in which there is a door, but
this is always kept closed, and at night we lock it. The young countess
obtained the key from the baron, saying that, did she not have it,
anyone ascending or descending could come into her room without let or
hindrance."
"There can be little doubt that the stairs descend to the courtyard,
and that they are used by men going up and down to sentry duty on the
upper platform; the only question is whether the door at the foot,
opening into the courtyard, is kept locked."
"That I cannot say, sir; we never went down to the courtyard when we
were at the castle."
"Is there a sentry posted on the top of the tower?"
"Yes, sir, I believe so; at any rate, we often hear the tread of men
going up and down, and that by night as well as by day."
"In that case it is possible that the door is not kept locked; as it is
so often used it would give unnecessary trouble if the key had to be
fetched each time the sentry was changed. It is very important that we
should know for certain, because it would save much risk and trouble
if you could leave the keep without descending from the window. But I
do not see how you could let us know, and I do not like putting the
adventure off until you are again on duty, for there is no saying when
the baron may carry out his intention of forcing my sister to become
his son's wife."
"I could manage that, count," the farmer said. "I might well enough go
to the castle with a present of fruit, or with some woman's gear that
Bertha might have left behind her. I might not be able to see the girl,
but she might send down a message. If the door is locked, she need send
only her thanks; if it is open, she could say that I need not trouble
to send her fruit, as they had an abundance of everything they wanted."
"That would be a very good plan," the young count said. "I will return
here in three days, by which time I hope to have all my plans laid out."
On his return to Waldensturm, Conrad ordered two or three of his men to
make a light ladder some twenty-five feet long, and sent Henrick over
to Weisenheim to buy a hundred yards of light but very strong cord. The
next night he rode with Johann to within a short distance of Goldstein,
the latter carrying the ladder. It was a dark night, and, leaving their
horses half a mile from the castle, they made their way towards it,
reached the foot of the outer wall, taking great care to avoid making
a noise, proceeded along the edge of the wall of the outer court until
they came to the cut in the rock. Then the ladder was lowered down,
they both descended, and, shifting the ladder to the other side, were
soon at the foot of the wall of the inner court. They found, to their
satisfaction, that there were some two feet of level ground between
this and the edge of the precipice. As they went on, this sometimes
widened to twenty feet or more, sometimes narrowed to three feet, as
the wall kept straight along without following the irregularities of
the rock. At length the masonry rose up in front of them extending to
the very edge of the crag, and they knew that they had reached the
castle itself, and that some sixty feet above them was the chamber in
which Minna was confined.
"So far everything is well, Johann, and if only the door at the bottom
of that flight of steps is unbolted it seems to me that we shall have
no difficulty. Everything has succeeded beyond our expectation. But
three days ago the rescue of my sister seemed almost impossible, but
now, thanks to Bertha Grun and her father, everything is in train."
Returning as they came, they carried the ladder to the wood where they
had left their horses, and hiding it there rode home.
The boys had not been idle; every day they had gone out, sometimes to
places many miles away, to warn the vassals that their young lord had
returned, and that they must hold themselves in readiness to assemble
at Waldensturm, with the best arms they could obtain, immediately upon
receiving a summons. The tenants were all delighted when they heard
the message. The boys had carried with them money, to give to those
who were in want, to purchase long pikes and swords in readiness for
whatever service their lord might require of them.
The day after his expedition to Goldstein, Conrad resumed his trader's
dress, and, taking his pack pony as before, went to Grun's.
"The matter will be easier than I expected," he said to the farmer,
who gave him a hearty greeting. "I have found that once at the foot
of the castle there is no difficulty in making one's way along. If
your daughter finds that the door at the bottom of the staircase is
unlocked, there are no difficulties whatever;" and he then described
how they made their way along to the foot of the walls of the castle
itself.
"As it can be but a few paces from the bottom of that staircase to
the one in the angle, they could, if in dark clothes, mount the wall
unperceived, even were there guards in the courtyard itself, which is
most unlikely, as the baron has no fear whatever of attack, and it is
only upon the outer wall that any shrewd watch would be kept. I think
that, to avoid all danger, it would be better that your daughter and
her companion should also fly. When once beyond the walls I would have
a guide in readiness to take them to one of the cottages still standing
on my estate. In my pack is a long rope, well knotted; it is not bulky,
and your daughter could wind it round her under her garments. When they
get on to the wall they will fasten one end securely, and drop the
other down. I shall be there, and shall at once climb to the top and
lower my sister and the girls down, one by one. My sergeant will be
there to receive them. Then I shall descend by the rope, and we will
make off. I have received promises from forty men to join me, and have
fixed on a spot where they shall be placed in ambush a mile from the
castle. Have you done anything?"
"Yes, I have sounded many of my neighbours, and one and all will gladly
join in any attempt to overthrow the baron and his son. Each of them
will communicate with others. I have not mentioned your name, or given
them any particulars, but have simply said that there is a plot on foot
which is in my opinion certain to be successful, and that in a manner
that will prevent any of the neighbouring lords taking up the baron's
cause. And that I have reason to believe that a new lord, who will be a
just and good master, will be forthcoming. I think I can promise that
by the middle of next week there will be a hundred and fifty men ready
for the work."
"That should be ample, Grun; and if we are successful I promise that
your farm shall be for ever exempt from all feudal obligations, rents,
and quittances. I shall not come over again until your daughter has
returned to the castle, and you have learned from her whether that door
is open. If it is not so, she must examine the bolt carefully. It is
probable that it could be shot from the inside if she had a suitable
tool, in which case we must defer it until she again returns to the
castle, unless she and her companion find that they can get the bolt
back without difficulty. Ask her to ascertain this the first day she
returns. I have thought that possibly you might not be able to see her,
and that the message that she sends down to you might not be rightly
reported. Therefore, instead of your paying her a visit, tell her
that, on the morning after she returns to the castle, she is to go to
the window between eight and nine o'clock, and to shake a cloth or a
garment out of it if the door is unlocked, or she finds that she can
open it. We shall be watching for the signal. If it is not made, the
attempt shall be deferred; if it is made, it will be at midnight on
the third night after she returns. At that hour they are to descend
the stairs to the courtyard, mount the steps to the wall, and drop the
rope over, having previously firmly fastened the end. I had better
see her myself, and give her the instructions, so that there may be
no possibility of a mistake. If the signal is made, a boy will bring
a message to you that the affair will come off on the night I have
arranged, and you with your friends will then be by ten o'clock at the
point where the road runs through a wood about a mile away from the
castle. Two or three of you bring axes, so that we can fell some trees
across the road behind them and so enclose them. It is of the utmost
importance that not one shall escape to carry the news to the castle."
Bertha was called in, and the instructions were repeated to her until
Conrad was perfectly satisfied that she knew what she had to do. She
was at once to inform Minna that her brother had returned, and was
prepared to rescue her. "Tell her this directly you get back, Bertha,
and then, if the baron should determine to hurry on her marriage, she
can beg for a week's further grace before it takes place."
Everything being now arranged, Conrad returned home, and waited
impatiently for the hour when the signal would be made. On that morning
he and three of the men, all dressed as peasants, took up their
positions at various points a quarter of a mile or so from the castle,
hiding behind the bushes so that they should not be perceived from the
castle. Soon after eight o'clock the watchers saw a figure come to the
window, and shake a garment as if to free it from dust. Then one by
one they got up and strolled carelessly away, mounted their horses in
the wood, and rode back to Waldensturm. The men and a number of boys
were assembled at the ruins, and all were at once sent off to order the
vassals to assemble there by eight o'clock on the evening of the next
day. At the appointed time all were there, full of delight to see their
young lord again, and protesting their readiness to die in his service.
They now learned for the first time the nature of the enterprise in
which they were about to take part, and their delight at the prospect
of slaying the author of their misfortunes, and of capturing his
castle, was unbounded. Many of them had provided themselves with bows
or cross-bows, the boys having carried messages to that effect a few
days before. One or two of the men still on the estate carried axes
and coils of rope. Conrad and his men-at-arms were mounted at eight
o'clock, by which hour the last of those summoned had come in. These
followed on foot, and by half-past nine reached the wood selected for
the ambush. The men with axes at once set to work to fell three or four
trees across the road where it entered the wood on the side farthest
away from Goldstein, the rest were distributed along it among the trees
on both sides. Half an hour after their arrival, Grun, at the head
of a hundred and fifty men, came up. Most of these had pikes, others
were armed with scythes, while a few of the poorer class carried only
flails; but all had long knives.
After saying a few words of thanks to them, Conrad distributed them
also by the sides of the road. Ropes were then fastened from tree to
tree across it, at a height of two feet from the ground, others being
laid across the road where the baron with his retainers would enter.
These were to be tightened as soon as he had passed, so as to trip
over any of the rearmost horsemen who tried to escape. Some trees were
cut almost through at this point, and men with axes stationed there so
as to bring them down as soon as the horsemen had passed. Having seen
that everything was in readiness, Conrad left Johann in command, and
with three of his followers rode on to the edge of the wood nearest
the castle. Here two of the men remained with the horses, which, when
they heard Conrad's horn sound, they were to bring up towards the
castle, and to stop just beyond bowshot. Henrick, carrying the ladder,
accompanied him. As before, they had no difficulty in gaining the
foot of the castle wall. After waiting a quarter of an hour there was
a slight sound and the end of the rope fell near them. Conrad gave a
slight pull to show that he was there, waited till he was sure that
the other end was securely fastened, and then began to climb it. He
had left his riding-boots in the cut, so that he might climb without
any noise being made by their scraping against the wall. Being strong
and active he had no difficulty in reaching the top, and as soon as he
gained his footing there a figure threw herself into his arms.
"Thank God I have you, little sister! let me put this round your
waist." "This" was a broad band made of a saddle-girth, which was
fastened to the end of the rope which he had brought up with him.
"You will be quite safe," he said. "Hold the rope with both hands; it
has plenty of strength and would hold twenty of you."
A moment later she was over the wall, and he lowered her steadily down
until he felt the rope slacken. Then he drew it up again and lowered
Bertha and her companion, and then joined them on the ledge.
"Now," he said, "you must go on together with Henrick. Walk one behind
the other and keep touch of the wall. As you go, you will have to
descend a ladder on one side of a deep cut, and climb it on the other.
When you get to the top you are to stop till I join you, as Henrick
will have to move the ladder for me to follow you. Go on at once; you
will know afterwards why I have stayed behind."
He waited till Henrick rejoined him with the news that the others had
passed the cut, then he shouted: "Hullo there, watch!"
"Who is that?" a voice called down from the top of the tower.
[Illustration: THE ESCAPE FROM THE CASTLE]
"Tell the baron that I, Conrad von Waldensturm, have carried off my
sister, and give him my defiance;" and then with Henrick he hurried
along and soon rejoined the women. Already there was a tumult in the
castle; the sentry had blown his horn, and then run down from the wall
and entered the castle to arouse the baron. Conrad sounded the note
that his followers knew, and they then hurried along until they arrived
at the spot where the men were standing with the horses.
"Now," he said to Minna, "you must mount behind me, two of my men will
take your maids."
The din in the castle was now prodigious; a horn continued sounding and
the alarm-bell of the castle ringing, orders were being shouted, and
it was evident that the garrison were fully roused, and that in a few
minutes the pursuit would begin. Conrad and two of the men sprang into
their saddles. Henrick lifted Minna to her place behind Conrad, and the
two girls behind the men.
"Hold tight, girls, we have not far to go," Conrad said. Henrick
mounted, and all started at a gallop. Conrad was glad to hear the
watchman on the tower over the gate shout at the top of his voice: "I
hear the tramp of horses; they have just started."
There was no need for haste; it would be another five minutes at least
before the baron could start. Still, as Conrad wished to see that
everything was ready, he maintained his pace until he reached the wood
where his party were assembled. Then they dismounted. The men led the
horses to the spot where the others were tied up, near the farther edge
of the wood. Conrad led his sister and the maids to a distance from the
road; he had already told her what was going to take place.
"Wait here till I come to fetch you," he said; "I must see that all
is in readiness." He joined the men, who were gathered thickly by
the road, and took his place by the ropes which would bring the head
of the column to a halt. Here his own vassals were chiefly gathered,
while his men-at-arms were stationed, under Johann, at the point where
their pursuers would enter the wood. This he considered to be the most
important post, as many of the troopers would certainly try to escape
when they found that they were caught in an ambush. Two minutes after
his arrival he heard the sound of a party of galloping horsemen.
"I think," he said to Grun, who was standing next to him, "there are
from thirty to forty of them. The baron would probably ride off as soon
as a score or two of his men had mounted." In a minute the troop came
along at a furious gallop, led by Von Goldstein and his son. Suddenly
the head of the column seemed to collapse; men and horses rolled over;
those behind, unable to check their horses, crashed into a confused
heap on the ground, and before they could check themselves well-nigh
half the party were heaped upon each other. As the baron and his son
fell, Conrad's bugle rang out, and a flight of arrows and of cross-bow
bolts poured into the rearmost files of the troop, and at the same
moment a crowd of men sprang out from the trees and assailed them with
pike and sword, scythe and flail. Taken utterly by surprise, appalled
by the suddenness of the attack, and by the catastrophe in which their
leaders and half their comrades were involved, the remainder of the
troop offered but a feeble resistance. Johann, with his men, came
rushing up from the rear, for not one of the troopers had time to turn
his horse before being surrounded by his foes. Conrad took no part in
the fight, but, on seeing how complete was the success of the ambush,
sheathed his sword, and returned to the spot where he had left Minna,
leaving it to the infuriated peasants and troopers to complete the work.
"The first blow has been struck, Minna. Von Goldstein and his son have
paid with their lives for their crimes and for the ruin that they have
brought upon us. I shall send you off to the castle under the guard of
four of the vassals, and you will remain there until you hear from me."
"But why should you not come yourself?"
"Because I have only begun my work. I hope before morning to finish
it. I am going to take Goldstein by surprise, and I have little doubt
that I shall succeed. I have nearly two hundred men, and as some thirty
of the garrison have fallen, we shall outnumber them considerably."
The four men had already been told off to escort the young countess
and her maids, and horses having been brought up, the party at once
started, and Conrad returned to the scene of conflict, where all was
now quiet. Not a man of the baron's party had escaped; he himself and
his son had been found dead when the horses had either recovered their
feet or been dragged off. Whether they had broken their necks or been
smothered by the mass piled over them none cared to enquire, but many
a vengeful stab showed that the peasants were determined to make sure
of their deaths. Some torches had been brought for the purpose, and
these having been lit, the peasants had carefully examined the fallen
troopers to make sure that the work of vengeance was complete.
Conrad, on his arrival, called them all together. "So far the work
has been well begun," he said; "your tyrant is dead. Now for the next
blow. Herr Grun tells me that he has, as I requested him, chosen fifty
of the most active for special work. Let these form in a body." When
the young men had obeyed his order he continued: "Now, Johann, you
and Henrick and the four men I have already told off will go with this
party, Johann in command, and do the work with which I charged you.
You will proceed along the foot of the castle wall till you get to the
spot where I descended. There you will remain quiet until you hear the
attack at the gate; then you will climb the rope, and, as soon as you
are all assembled on the wall, will rush down and seize the inner gate,
cut down all who are guarding it, and then, leaving Henrick and ten of
the men there, will run into the outer court and take the baron's men
in rear. Henrick, as soon as the others have gone, will close the gate
behind them. There is little fear that you will be disturbed, for all
the defenders of the castle will rush down when they hear the fighting
in the outer court."
"I understand, my lord," Johann said; "never fear but that we will do
our part in the business."
"Remember," Conrad went on, "everything depends on your carrying this
out silently. Do not go in a solid body; steal along as quietly as
possible. There is little fear of their seeing you, but beware of
striking a foot or weapon against a stone."
As soon as Johann and his party had moved off, he continued: "Now,
strip the armour and steel caps from the dead troopers. How many are
there of them?"
"Thirty-four, count," Grun said, "and there are twenty-five of their
horses uninjured, and the five of Johann and his party."
"Then choose thirty-nine men," Conrad said, "and let them divide the
armour among them, and let each take a horse and mount at once. We
shall, with my fifteen, be a stronger party than rode out, but in the
darkness they will not notice that. All the rest will follow us on
foot, keeping a hundred yards in rear. When we enter the courtyard,
ride, in the first place, and cut down any of the troopers who may be
there; it is probable that the greater part of them will be gathered
on the wall to await the baron's return. When you have cleared the
courtyard you will, at the sound of my bugle, dismount. By that time we
shall be joined by those on foot, and we shall then see what steps we
had best take against the men on the walls."
In a quarter of an hour all was ready, and at the head of over fifty
mounted men Conrad rode off at a foot-pace, the unmounted men following
close behind. When within a quarter of a mile of the castle, Conrad
gave the order, and at a canter they rode towards the gate. As they
approached, the men broke into a cheer, and the garrison, taking this
as a proof that success had attended them, and that the fugitives
had been captured, answered with shouts of welcome. As Conrad had
expected, the drawbridge was down and the gate open. As he rode in with
his men Conrad raised a shout: "A Waldensturm! a Waldensturm! kill!
kill!" and instantly attacked the men who were gathered inside the
gate to welcome the baron's return. Taken wholly by surprise, their
resistance was feeble, and the thirty or forty men in the courtyard
were speedily despatched; but by this time those on the walls were
pouring down to the assistance of their comrades. Conrad blew his horn;
his followers dismounted and rushed for the new-comers, and just as
they did so the unmounted men ran in through the gate with loud shouts.
A panic seized the baron's retainers, and these again ran up the steps
to the top of the wall. Many of the assailants would have followed
them, but Conrad called them off. He knew that the stairs could not
be carried without great loss, as a dozen men at the top of each of
the flights of steps could hold them against hundreds. The fight had
not been conducted in darkness, for there were many torches burning in
the courtyard. "We will wait till morning," he said; "they are like
rats in a trap." At this moment a sudden uproar was heard in the inner
courtyard, and shouts of "Waldensturm! Waldensturm!" and a couple of
minutes later Johann and his party rushed in through the upper gate,
where they stopped, astonished at the quietness that prevailed.
"They are all on the wall, Johann; there is nothing more to do at
present," Conrad said. "I will go back with you, and we will take
possession of the castle itself. There is not likely to be any
resistance; few men will have remained there, and these, when they see
that both courtyards are in our hands, will hardly resist. If they
surrender, we will kill no one, and no damage must be done to anything;
the castle is mine now. Herr Grun, will you remain in command here; I
do not think the men on the wall will make an attack, but keep a close
watch on them."
The castle gate was closed when they reached it, and five or six men
with cross-bows were at the windows commanding it.
"What ho there!" Conrad said. "It is useless for you to resist. I,
Conrad von Waldensturm, call upon you to surrender. The baron and his
son are killed, and half the garrison; the rest are in our power. If
you surrender peacefully your lives shall be spared; if not, every man
will be put to the sword."
There was a short pause, and then a voice said: "We surrender,
relying upon your knightly word." A minute later the sound of bars
being withdrawn was heard, and the door opened. Conrad, with his own
followers, entered, letting the others remain without. The men were
first disarmed and placed in the guard chamber at the gate, and a
sentry posted outside. Then, taking torches from the walls, Conrad made
a hasty survey of the interior, telling the frightened scullions and
other servants that no harm would come to them.
"'Tis indeed a stately castle," he said to Johann, "and I have made a
good exchange. Now, do you remain here in charge; I will go down and
see how matters are proceeding. Day is breaking already." Then with
those who had remained outside the castle gate he joined the main body
in the outer courtyard.
"Now, Grun," he said to the farmer, "we will summon the men on the
walls to surrender. They must see that their case is desperate. There
are but sixty or seventy of them, and they are hopelessly outnumbered.
If they refuse, I shall not attack them; hunger and thirst will soon
tame them. We have not lost a life, and I would not that any of your
good fellows or mine should be killed, and were we to storm the walls
we should assuredly lose many. I should be sorry indeed were any wives
left widows, or children fatherless, by this night's work."
Accordingly, as soon as it became light, Conrad summoned the men on
the walls to surrender on promise of their lives being spared. The
answer was a yell of defiance. When this subsided he said: "Well, if it
pleases you to starve like rats in a trap you can do so; there is no
hope of your escape or of aid arriving. The baron, his son, and all the
party who rode with him are dead, the castle is in my possession, and
you are as much prisoners as if you were in a dungeon." He now ordered
his own men and a dozen of his vassals to leave the courtyard and form
a line across the narrow neck by which the castle was approached,
and to see that no one passed; for he deemed it possible that a man
might be lowered from the wall to entreat aid from some of the baron's
neighbours. Food was brought out from the castle and distributed. The
men were divided into four parties, each of which was to take up its
station near the foot of the four flights of steps up to the wall. Two
mounted men were sent off to Waldensturm to fetch the young countess
back, and the courtyards were cleared of the bodies that had fallen.
Three hours later Minna arrived. On the way she had heard the details
of the capture of the castle, and was delighted to hear that it had
been taken without the loss of a single man.
"I am proud of you, indeed," Minna said. "I always was so, but after
capturing in this way a castle that the baron considered impregnable, I
shall always regard you as a hero indeed."
"The credit is chiefly due to Grun and his daughter," Conrad said.
"Without them we could have done nothing; with their aid the matter was
simple enough."
The brother and sister sat for a long time talking together in the
great hall of the castle. They had much to tell each other of what had
happened since they had parted two years before.
"And you are really to be lord of this castle?" she said. "But can you
keep it, Conrad? the elector may bring an army against it."
"I think I can hold it if he does; but I do not think that he will. I
have an order from the emperor to the elector to declare the baron's
estates forfeited, and to install me in his place, and it contains
a threat that he would himself send a force to carry this out if he
failed to do so, and that I should hold it direct from him. Had I not
captured the castle, the parchment would have been of little good; the
elector would know that the threat was a vain one, since the emperor
has no force that he could send on such a long expedition, needing
every man in his struggle with the Turks. Moreover, the elector
regarded the baron as a great friend of his, and even did he feel
constrained by the command of the emperor to aid me, he would know that
he would need all the force that he could raise to capture the castle.
But now that it has been done, and I am its master, the matter has
changed altogether, and he would rather have me as his friend than his
enemy, especially as most of the vassals that he could call upon to aid
in recapturing the castle must have viewed with displeasure the baron's
attack on my hold in my absence, after having taken the oath of peace.
No, I have no fear whatever of that. A large portion of the vassals of
the estate have aided me, and all would take refuge here if a force
marched against me, and would fight till the last, knowing that no
mercy would be shown to them. No, Minna, I think that we need have no
fear for the future."
At four o'clock in the afternoon Conrad was summoned to the courtyard,
as the men on the wall had shouted that they were ready to surrender.
"I thought that they would soon be tired of being cooped up there
without food or drink," Conrad said as he went out; "I have been
expecting it for the last two or three hours."
Thirst rather than hunger had done its work, and the certainty that
sooner or later they must give in had broken their spirit. As the count
appeared in the courtyard, there was a general shout of: "We surrender,
on the promise of our lives."
"I promise you that. Now let every man take off his armour, and lay it
and his arms on the wall, and then come down four at a time. You shall
have food and water given to you, and you will then leave the castle,
and anyone found within the limits of the estate by nightfall will
receive no mercy."
In an hour the last of the garrison had left the castle. The tenants
on the estate at once dispersed to their homes, all receiving a
present from the count, and a promise of remission of half that year's
dues. His own vassals he kept there, to form, with his retainers, the
garrison until he could hire a sufficient force for that purpose. At
the end of that time they could return to their ruined homes, Conrad
promising them aid to rebuild their houses, and an entire remission
of all dues for the next two years. Conrad then drew up a document,
addressed to the elector, stating what he had done, and enclosing a
copy of the emperor's order, saying that he would himself present the
original when he visited the court of Treves. As he had anticipated,
the elector's reply was favourable.
"He had been," he said, "shocked at the conduct of the baron in
attacking and ravaging the castle and estates of Waldensturm, and the
punishment inflicted upon him was a just one. He would, therefore,
willingly accept Conrad as his vassal for the feoff of Goldstein, and
begged him to speedily repair to his court to take the oaths."
Thus Conrad von Waldensturm revenged his wrongs, and obtained the
finest estate and the strongest castle in the Electorate of Treves.
A RAID BY THE BLACKS
A STORY OF AN OUTLYING STATION
I begin to think we were wrong in coming so far out into the bush, but
I was tempted by what Hawkins told me of the place, which he had come
across when exploring the country. It seemed everything that could be
desired: plenty of water, timber for all purposes, and fine grazing;
and I admit that it is all that he said. The blacks were quiet enough
then, and, though it was a good bit beyond the nearest station, I
thought, when I came and had a look at the place, that it was well
worth risking. We have not done badly here. The sheep and cattle have
pretty well doubled their number each year; the wool has paid all our
expenses. Everything has been comfortable enough, except the difficulty
we have had in bringing up groceries and flour. In another ten years,
if all had gone well, I should have been a really prosperous man, with
a big flock of sheep and a fine herd of cattle, to say nothing of
horses; but now the blacks have got nasty I begin to think that I have
made a great mistake.
"Have you heard any more bad news, William?" his wife asked anxiously.
"Yes; Harry Read rode up half an hour ago, and said that he and his
brother were going to drive their animals in, and take them to the
station of a friend of his forty miles nearer Sydney, till things
settled down a bit, for he had heard that two or three stations had
been attacked by the blacks and every soul murdered. What do you think,
wife? Shall we do the same?"
Mrs. Roberts was a courageous woman. "I don't know what to say," she
replied. "We are getting on very well here. As you said, of course,
we always knew that there was some risk. We could not have got a big
station like this down-country without paying a large sum for it, far
more than we could have afforded. I think it would be a pity to give
it up at present. After all, we may not be attacked. You see, you have
three men now, and we only had one when we came here. You built the
house specially for defence, with squared logs, and even logs for the
roof, so that it could not be set on fire. We could get the shingles
off in an hour and, as it is the dry season, I think it would be as
well to do that at once. I can shoot fairly well, and so can Effie,
and with six rifles we ought to be able to keep off a mob of natives."
"But how about the animals?" her husband said.
"Well, I should say that the best plan would be to send the greater
part of them away for a bit. Talbot has nothing like enough stock on
his place, and I have no doubt he would be glad to graze them for a bit
at a very small rent. Of course, if you think it best, I am quite ready
to give the place up, though in my opinion it would be a pity. After
all, the chances of the blacks coming here are not great. There are
dozens of other stations as exposed as we are. We have had two or three
alarms before, but nothing has ever come of them."
"I am glad that that is your opinion, wife, mine is exactly the same.
Certainly, for my own sake I would a great deal rather stay here and
take my chances. It was of you and Effie that I was thinking. Well,
then, we will consider it settled. I will ride down to Talbot's at once
and arrange with him. I shall get back late this evening. To-morrow
morning we will take a lot of the stock over there. Thompson shall go
with me to help to drive them down, but I shall bring him back, as it
is as well to keep as strong a garrison here as possible. I can arrange
with Talbot that one of his men shall be specially told off to look
after our animals. I will pick out three hundred of the best ewes and
a few rams, a hundred cattle, and half a dozen of the best horses. I
need not take more horses than that. They are all shy of a blackfellow,
and there is not much fear of their being caught; so we need not bother
about them, especially as, if they were taken away to new ground, they
would give a lot more trouble than the sheep and cattle."
Mr. Roberts had been a small landed proprietor in the old country,
farming his own land. Times had been bad, and the failure of a bank,
in which he had a few shares, had swept away not only all his ready
money, but had brought upon him heavy calls which he was unable to
meet. He had a brother who, some years before, had emigrated to New
South Wales, and he had given so favourable an account of the country
that Mr. Roberts decided to sell his land and emigrate there with his
wife and two children, a boy and a girl. After meeting all claims, and
paying their passages out, he had arrived at Sydney with the sum of
£3000. He had wisely determined not to risk more than a third of this,
and, placing £2000 in a bank, he had invested a thousand in sheep,
cattle, and horses, and had taken up some land on the extreme border
of the settlement. He had now been there four years, and had been well
contented with his choice. The site was an exceptionally pleasant one.
A small stream ran through the property, which was better wooded than
most of the land in that part. His stock had increased fourfold, and
although there had been occasional reports of trouble with the blacks,
they had hitherto met with no molestation whatever. Natives had come
and gone, and had always been hospitably received, and he certainly had
no reason to believe that there was anything but good feeling between
them and the inmates of the Springs, as the station was called, from
a spring that rose some hundred and fifty yards away from the house
and was situated some feet above the floor level, the water bubbling
up into a barrel which was sunk in the ground. A pipe whose end was
inserted in the barrel was buried underground, and through this the
water flowed, giving a constant supply to the house. Another pipe
conveyed the water to a trough, which had been erected for the use
of the animals kept at the station. The other animals watered at the
stream.
The boy, who was now fifteen, had been for the past two years at
Sydney, living at his uncle's and attending school. In another year
he was to return to the station. He had gone most reluctantly, but
his father had said: "I can quite understand your liking this life,
Ned, but I don't wish you to grow up simply a bush farmer. The colony
is increasing fast, and there will be plenty of openings for a young
fellow of intelligence and a fair education. I hope that by the time
you grow up I shall be able to settle you on a farm like mine, and
stock it well for you, if you decide upon following this sort of life,
or to start you in any line that you may like to adopt in Sydney. You
have had two years of running wild, and if you remain here you will
speedily forget what little you have learned; but in any case, three
years at school will be a great advantage to you."
Effie, the daughter, was now fourteen, a strong healthy girl who could
ride any horse on the station, had been taught to use both pistol and
rifle, and was as bold and fearless as a boy.
It was late that night before Mr. Roberts returned, and the next day he
and Thompson drove the stock down to Talbot's station, leaving strict
injunctions that the other men were not to go far from the house, and
were to keep the cattle and sheep in the stock-yard. He returned the
following day, and for the next fortnight things went on as usual. Late
one night, however, in the third week, Effie knocked at her father's
door.
"I think there is something the matter, father," she called. "The
animals are all uneasy in the yard. I don't know what has disturbed
them, but they are evidently alarmed." In half a minute Mr. Roberts
appeared at the door, and followed the girl to her room, which was at
the back of the house, overlooking the stock-yard.
"There is certainly something wrong, Effie," he said, after listening
for a moment. "The horses and cattle are both uneasy."
He went downstairs to the room where the men slept. "Get up at once,"
he said; "there is something the matter. The horses and cattle are
uneasy; I am afraid it is the blacks. Throw on your clothes and take
your guns. We will go out at once and take down all the bars, so that
if it is really the blacks the animals will have a chance of escaping.
It is pitch dark, and even if there are some of them in the yard they
are not likely to see us."
Two minutes later the door was very cautiously opened and the four men
went out. Effie barred it behind them, and then joined her mother, who
had hastily dressed. Both took their guns and went to Effie's window,
which was already open.
"We shall not be able to see where to fire, mother."
"No, dear; but if the blacks do attack, we shall hear by their yelling
whereabouts they are, and can fire in that direction. We may not hit
any of them, but it will confuse and alarm them. However, remember,
when we hear any stir, the first thing for you to do is to run down to
the door in readiness to open it when your father and the men return."
"The sheep are moving about now; they were quiet before, mother."
"It is likely the blacks will begin there," Mrs. Roberts said. "No
doubt they are hungry, and it is always sheep that they make for first.
They will very likely kill some and have a feast before attacking. I
trust, however, that they may not attack at all. They must know that
the house is a strong one, and may not care to risk their lives, but
have only come to drive off the stock. Still, I am afraid they will try
and attack, hoping we may be asleep and that they may gain entrance
before we have time to get our rifles."
Four or five minutes later a low whistle was heard outside. Effie ran
down and opened the door, when her father and the men at once entered
and the door was bolted behind them.
"Well," Mr. Roberts said, "I fear there is no doubt that there are
blacks about, and from the uneasiness of the animals I should say there
are a good number of them. However, we are warned, and I think that
the surprise will be on their side and not on ours. We removed all the
bars, so the animals can get away if they like. Also, I have locked the
door of the stable. Except for the uneasiness of the animals we saw no
signs of the enemy at all. Now, the first thing to do is to get the
shutters closed." This was at once done. Mr. Roberts had always been a
little nervous of trouble with the blacks, so in addition to building
his house of solid logs he had had strong loopholed shutters arranged
on all the windows of the lower story, which when closed were held in
their position by massive cross-bars.
They discussed the best position for each to take in case of attack,
and having arranged this, one of the men went up to keep a look-out
from the upper windows, while the rest of the party remained chatting
in the sitting-room. "I wish there was a moon," Mr. Roberts said; "it
is so dark that we shall be firing quite at random."
"Could we not make some sort of a torch," Effie suggested, "that would
light up the place outside?"
"That is a first-rate idea, Effie; but how are we to manage it?"
The party sat silent for some minutes, then Effie said: "There is
plenty of wool. How would it be to make a bundle of it about as big as
my head, wind it round with wire, then soak it in paraffin. When the
natives come we have only to put a match to it and throw it outside."
"Very good indeed, Effie," her father said; "let us try to carry out
the idea at once, and as all the materials are to hand it will not
take us long." In half an hour six of the balls were finished. Each
had a short length of wire by which it could be thrown through the
window. Fortunately there was plenty of paraffin, and a bucket being
filled with it, the balls were soaked one after another, and were then
carried upstairs each in a separate basin. "We shall have to be very
careful how we throw them," Mr. Roberts said, "or else we shall be
setting ourselves on fire. Thompson, you are, I think, the worst shot
of the lot, as you are rather short-sighted. I will therefore trust
this business to you. Have an old blanket ready to beat out any of the
burning oil that may drop on the floor. Be careful also to keep as much
in shelter as possible, some of the blacks are sure to have bows ready."
"All right, boss! you need not fear, I will look out. Now, as I am to
be on duty upstairs, I might as well go up at once and send James down.
I think, boss, you had better take post at the loopholes now, you may
catch sight of one of the varmints against the sky-line. I will throw a
ball as soon as I hear the first shot."
All was quiet for a quarter of an hour, then Effie suddenly fired. The
shot was followed by a wild yell outside, and dozens of dark figures
leaped to their feet and bounded towards the door, and strove to break
it in with their waddies and axes. The defenders were all hard at work,
and an occasional yell of pain showed that their bullets were taking
effect. Suddenly there was an even wilder yell as a brilliant ball of
fire fell twenty yards from the house, lighting up the front of it
almost as if it were day. Every shot told now, and in a minute the
natives fled with wild bounds outside the circle of light, but losing
heavily before they vanished into the darkness.
"Well, I do not think they will try that game again," Mr. Roberts
said when the firing ceased, and after shaking hands wildly all round
they sat down. "I did not expect them to attack so boldly. It is
quite contrary to their usual habits, and if it had not been for the
fire-ball I do not know how things would have gone. That was a splendid
idea, Effie. Why, you ought to set up as an inventor!"
There was no further attack, but two hours later one of the men on
watch thought he heard a movement in the neighbourhood of the spring,
but on firing a shot in that direction all was quiet, and there was no
further disturbance till day broke.
Soon after daylight all the party except the man on watch sat down to
breakfast and discussed the events of the night.
"What do you think they will do next, father?" Effie asked.
"I do not know whether they will hunt down the cattle and horses, and
drive them off, or whether they will hang round here for a time; it
is difficult to say. At any rate I don't think we have any cause for
uneasiness, except so far as touches one's pockets. It is lucky,
indeed, that we shifted more than half our animals to Talbot's.
Henceforth we must divide into two parties, and keep watch by turn,
for we have provisions enough to last for a couple of months. They had
only one chance, and that was to set the place on fire; but that we
practically did away with when we took the shingles off the roof. They
would never venture to bring sticks and fire up to the doors in the
teeth of our rifles."
Two hours passed quietly, then loud yells were heard, and a number of
specks of fire shot through the air.
"Blazing arrows," the settler said quietly. "I expect they have a white
man among them, an escaped convict, of course, and he has put them up
to this. I don't fancy they use fire-arrows, though of course they may
do so. Well, they can amuse themselves as long as they like; they may
go on for four-and-twenty hours, but they will never set those beams on
fire."
For ten minutes the flight of arrows continued. Those below could hear
the constant tapping as the missiles struck the roof. At the end of
that time they ceased to fall, the natives evidently recognizing that
for some reason or other their attempt was a complete failure. They
made no more efforts, but small groups of them could be seen out on
the plain in pursuit of the animals. These, however, were evidently
alarmed by the shouts and proceedings of the night before, and made off
at the top of their speed whenever the natives approached. The horses
were especially wild, and kept a considerable distance away.
"It will take them a good many days to gather them in," Mr. Roberts
said grimly. "Fortunately your horses and mine, Effie, are safe in the
shed, and as we fastened the door, and it is commanded by the loopholes
in the shutters on that side of the house, as long as we hold out they
will be safe. As soon as the rascals have gone off I will ride into
the settlements, get a dozen men to help us, and then we will set off
in pursuit. I should think that by to-morrow at latest they are likely
to give it up as a bad job. They must know that they have no chance of
starving us out."
The blacks, however, evinced no intention of leaving. They could be
seen moving about among the trees. By the smoke that rose in that
direction it was evident that they had kindled large fires, but these
were so far within the bush that their exact position could not be made
out. A shot was fired from time to time when a black showed himself,
but this was done rather for the purpose of showing that the besieged
were on the watch than with the hope of hitting the quickly-moving
figure. The main body of the sheep were huddled out on the plain half
a mile away under the charge of two of the blacks. Leaving Mrs. Roberts
and Effie on the watch, the rest of the party now went out and dragged
the bodies of the natives who had been killed some distance from the
house, and covered them with a thick layer of earth. Two or three of
the sheep had been killed by chance shots, and these were carried in,
skinned, and hung up.
"That will be ample to last us," the colonist said; "they will be off
long before these are eaten. This evening it is likely they will be
making a great feast, but I expect to-morrow morning they will be off
to carry out some fresh rascality elsewhere. If I thought they intended
to stop here longer, I would try to get through them to-night to fetch
help."
"I wouldn't do that, boss, in any case," one of the men said. "That is
just what they are thinking you will try to do, and I warrant they will
be as thick as peas round the place to-night."
The next morning, however, it was seen that the blacks had no intention
of moving at present. Parties of twos and threes were starting across
the plain, evidently with the intention of driving in some of the
cattle.
"I cannot make it out," one of the men said rather anxiously; "I can't
think what their game can be. As a rule they strike a blow, have a big
feast, and then are off at once, driving the sheep before them. It is
quite contrary to their nature to loiter about like this. They must
be up to some move or other, though what it is I cannot guess, for
they must know well enough that they have not the ghost of a chance of
taking this place. I feel sure they have got a white man with them.
I caught a glimpse of a fellow who seemed to be dressed in white's
clothes. He was well in among the trees, but I took a shot at him. It
was not broad daylight and it was dark under the trees, so I could not
swear to his being white; but if he wasn't he was some black who had
rigged himself out in the clothes of some poor beggar they killed at
the last station."
In a few minutes they saw a number of blacks sally out from the wood.
They planted themselves in small parties in a circle of half a mile
round the farm, and presently all lay down and crept to within half
that distance.
"They are determined that we sha'n't get away," Mr. Roberts said
grimly. "Happily we do not want to do so."
As he spoke his wife's voice was heard.
"Come down, William, come down!"
There was no question that something was wrong. The settler ran below,
and he saw by his wife's face that it was something very serious.
"What is it, Jane?" he asked anxiously.
"There is no water," she exclaimed. "I went to the tap to get some for
the kettle; a quart or two trickled out and then it stopped."
Her husband stood stupefied at the news.
"I thought yesterday that it was not running as fast as usual, but I
did not give it a second thought."
"They must have done something to the spring. Some of the natives who
have been here must have noticed you drawing water, and have told other
blackfellows of the water running out from the side of a wall whenever
you wanted it. If there is a white man among them he would, when he
heard the story, be sure that water was obtained from a spring. He
would hear about a barrel being sunk in the ground, and I have no doubt
that, after their attack failed the night before last, he had the pipe
stopped up. If you recollect, James thought he heard somebody up there
and fired. I have no doubt it was then that they played this trick.
There would be enough water in the pipe itself to supply us yesterday;
now it has come to an end. This accounts for their stopping here. It is
a terrible blow, and it may be a fatal one."
He then went up to the men and explained what had happened. All saw how
serious the position had at once become.
"We must hold on till the last, sir," one of them said. "You may be
sure that they would spare none of us after losing so many of their men
the other night."
"My wife says there is rather over two quarts of water left. We must
content ourselves with half a pint a day; that would last us for three
days. When we are thirsty we must chew some of the raw meat; in that
way we ought to be able to hold out for four or five days. Before that
time the news that we are besieged here may reach the settlements, or
some of our friends may ride over. We will fire a rifle every five
minutes or so to give them warning that something is up, and they will
take care not to fall into an ambush, and as soon as they find how
matters stand will ride back and bring help."
It was but a feeble ground for hope, but all agreed that it might
happen as he said.
"Do you think that there is any chance of getting through, Mr. Roberts?
I could try if you like," Thompson said.
"I should say not the slightest; and now we know what they reckon upon,
you may be sure that the whole of them are pretty close round the house
at night. They are as cunning as cats at their own work, and a man
would be riddled with spears before he had gone twenty yards."
Effie had gone up after her father, and listened in silence to the
conversation. Suddenly she said: "You forget the apples, father. Surely
they would do to quench our thirst."
"Capital, Effie! I had forgotten all about them. There are six barrels
in the cellar, and with their aid we can hold out for a long time.
That alters the position altogether." There was a general exclamation
of satisfaction from the men; the grimness of their faces relaxed, and
they shook hands heartily in their relief at their escape from what
they all felt was a terrible danger.
Two days passed. The cordon round the house was steadily maintained.
Shots were fired every five minutes, but the natives all lay under
shelter, and there was no sign that the firing had had any effect.
Several times the possibility of making a dash through them on one of
the horses was discussed, but each time was negatived. The alarm would
be given as soon as the horse was led out from the stable, and the
blackfellows would have time to gather at any point.
Effie went out twice a day with food for the horses, and each time
carried a dozen large apples in her apron, which she gave them after
they had eaten their corn. On the evening of the second day she took
with her a bottle of oil, with which she carefully lubricated the
hinges of the door and the padlock. The first day she had said to
herself over and over again: "If Jack were here I am sure he would
manage to get out." On the second day she said to herself: "If Jack
could do so why shouldn't I? We may hold out till they go away, but if
we do they will go somewhere else and kill some other settlers; while
if we could but give them a lesson they might not come again for a long
time." She waited another day in hopes that the blacks would leave.
When they did not do so, she decided to make the attempt that night.
On leaving the stable she put the padlock into its place, but did
not lock it; then she wrote a line to leave in her room, telling her
parents what she had done. She had, during the day, taken out a suit of
her brother's clothes, which fitted her fairly well. She had already
saddled her horse, and put his bridle on. When she went up to bed she
changed her clothes, knowing that it would be far easier to crawl in
boy's clothes than in her own. Her window had been open all day, and
she now fastened two blankets firmly together, tied one end to the leg
of a table by the window, and after waiting until she knew that all the
house, with the exception of the two men on guard, were fairly asleep,
she slid down the blanket. It was but some ten feet to the ground. She
was now within a few yards of the stable, which was built facing the
house. She opened the door, noiselessly felt her way to her horse, and
led it to the door. Then she laid the reins across his neck, stroked
his nose--a signal which he well understood was an order for him to
stand still until she whistled for him,--and then she lay down and
crawled noiselessly along. She had left her shoes behind her lest they
should scrape against the wall while she descended.
The night was pitch dark, and she progressed very slowly, pausing for a
moment after each step she made, to listen for the sound of breathing,
or for some movement that would tell her she was near one of the enemy.
Once or twice she heard slight sounds and changed her course. As it was
the stock-yard she was crossing, there was no vegetation by brushing
against which she might cause a rustling of leaves. She had, on leaving
the stable, made first for the bars dividing the sheep from the horses,
judging that the natives would be thickest round the entrance to the
horse-pen, as it was through this a horseman would naturally pass on
his way out. Once through, she kept for the most part close to the
bars, as she would thus be less likely to be observed than if she
crossed the open. So she kept on until she came to the outer bars. Here
she lay for some time listening intently. She heard murmured sounds on
both sides of her, but especially towards the gates of the sheep-yard.
At last, convinced that no one could be within some yards of her, she
crawled under the lower bar and kept straight on. She had the comfort
of knowing that it was not for any slight sound the blacks would be
listening, but for the opening of the door of the house or stables. She
crawled for a good quarter of a mile before she felt assured that she
was well beyond the cordon of natives.
Then she stood up, put the whistle she always carried to her lips, and
blew twice, sharply and loudly. In the stillness of the night she could
instantly hear the sound of a horse's feet. Then there was a burst of
yells and shouts. This continued, but the rapid tramp of hoofs kept
on. She whistled again, and a minute later the horse dashed up to her.
She sprang on his back with a word of encouragement, patted him on
the neck, and then set off at full speed. A hundred yards behind, the
blacks were running as hard as they could, filling the air with their
shouts, but she felt that she was safe now. The strong steady pace
showed her that the horse could not have sustained any serious injury.
This indeed was the case. So swiftly was the distant whistle followed
by the approach of the galloping horse that the blacks had scarce time
to take up their spears and waddies when the animal dashed through
them, scattering those in its path like chaff before him. Spears had
been thrown, but they were aimed high, at the rider who they believed
was in the saddle, and only one had slightly grazed the animal's back.
The girl took a circuit, lest some of the blacks should be on the road,
and knowing every foot of the country she regained the track two miles
farther on, at which time she had eased down to a speed which she knew
the horse could maintain for a long time. The forty miles between the
Springs and Talbot's farm were performed under four hours. Leaping from
the horse she knocked at the door, and a voice from an upper window
soon asked: "Who's there, and what is wanted?" A few words explained
her errand. She heard Mr. Talbot's voice shouting to the men, and soon
the door was opened.
"Besieged for four days by blacks, Miss Roberts! I never heard of their
doing such a thing before. Have you had hard fighting?"
"No; they made a rush at first, but we easily beat them off. But they
cut off our water-supply, and have been lying round to prevent any
of us getting away, making sure that we should have to give in from
thirst. Fortunately we have plenty of apples and could keep going for
another fortnight. They have a white man with them, and no doubt it
was he who put them up to cutting the water-pipe. Will you send out to
all the settlers round? I am going to ride on to Pickford to fetch the
constabulary there."
[Illustration: EFFIE GIVES THE ALARM]
"No, indeed!" Mr. Talbot said; "you have done enough for to-night. I
will start at once for Pickford, and my men will go off to the settlers
round. We shall have at least twenty or five-and-twenty here by nine
o'clock to-morrow. I will leave one of my men here, and my wife will
look after you, and make you comfortable. It is past two o'clock now.
I shall be at Pickford by six, and by ten or eleven Lieutenant Jordan
and his twelve men will arrive. I have plenty of horses in the yard,
and while the police are having breakfast we can change the saddles.
We won't hurry on the way to your place, as we shall want the horses
to be pretty fresh, so as to take up the pursuit of the blacks. An
hour one way or another will make no difference to your people, as the
blacks will hardly attack in daylight. Of course they may make a final
attempt to take the place to-night, for your escape will tell them that
they have no time to lose. I should not be surprised if they make off
the first thing in the morning. However, we will follow them up, and
are certain to overtake them if they try, as no doubt they will, to
carry off some of the cattle and sheep. Jordan will be delighted at the
chance of giving them a lesson that will keep them quiet for some time
to come. I won't stop now to ask you how you got out; you can tell us
about that as we ride back with you."
Mrs. Talbot had now come down, and in a few minutes Effie was in bed,
having the satisfaction, before she retired, of hearing five mounted
men ride off at full gallop, and of knowing that her horse had been
well cared for. She was up at eight and assisting Mrs. Talbot to
prepare breakfast for the expected arrivals. It was not long before the
first comers rode in, all eager to rescue the party at the Springs, and
to inflict a heavy blow upon the natives. Each, on the arrival of Mr.
Talbot's messengers, had sent off men in other directions, and by nine
o'clock thirty had arrived. All carried rifles and pistols, and each
brought a led horse with him, as Mr. Talbot had told the men to suggest
that they should do so, for they would not be able to obtain remounts
at the Springs, and as they might have to follow up the blacks for a
considerable distance it was well that each should have two horses.
As Effie felt shy about appearing in boy's clothes, Mrs. Talbot lent
her a blouse and skirt. Great was the admiration expressed when she
told how she had undertaken on her own account to fetch assistance,
and how she had successfully carried out the attempt. Mr. Talbot,
with the party of police, came in at eleven o'clock, by which time a
dozen more settlers, who lived at a greater distance than the earlier
comers, had also arrived; after a halt for half an hour to give the
police a chance of a meal, the whole party started. The horses of the
police had a good feed, and each trooper was furnished with another
mount from Mr. Talbot's yard. These their officer decided had better
be led until they reached the Springs, and they would then be able to
start in pursuit on comparatively fresh animals. Effie, of course, rode
with them. Although she felt certain that all was well, she was in a
fever of excitement to get home. She knew her parents would be very
anxious about her. Her absence would have been discovered directly she
started, as the outburst of the yells would have caused all to catch
up their rifles and run to the windows. If, as Mr. Talbot had thought
likely, the natives, on finding that she had got off safely, had made
an attack upon the house, the defenders would feel assured that she had
got safely away, and in any case the absence of any yells of exultation
would be almost proof that she had succeeded. It was just four o'clock
when they reached the Springs. No signs of the blacks had been met
with, and as the party rode down the slope towards the house, Mr.
Roberts, his wife, and the men ran out to receive them.
"You have frightened us horribly, Effie," her father said, after the
first greetings, "but we felt sure that you must have got away. We
could not tell that you would not be overtaken, though we had every
hope that you were safe. Thompson, who was on watch on that side,
declared that he heard one of the horses gallop off just before the row
began, and before that he had heard what he was sure was your whistle
some distance away, but he could not tell that the horse had got safely
through, or that he had not been so severely injured as to be unable
to carry you far. Thank God that it has all turned out well! You ought
not to have made the attempt without consulting us, and you may be very
sure that we should not have allowed you to try if you had."
"That was just why I did not do so, father," the girl said. "No one
could have done it but I, because neither of the horses would have
answered to the whistle. Besides, being so much smaller and lighter, I
had a better chance of getting through."
"You must not scold her, Roberts," Mr. Talbot, who had been standing
close by, said. "She has done a splendid action, and you and her mother
ought to be proud of her. She will be regarded as a heroine by the
whole district."
While they were speaking, the police-officer had been questioning the
men, and learnt that a few minutes after the girl left there had been
a fierce attack on the house, which had been repulsed with the loss of
some fifteen of the assailants, and that, when day broke, the natives
had been seen making off in the distance with fifty or sixty cattle,
and a flock of two or three hundred sheep. No time was lost. Bags of
flour and parcels of tea and sugar were made up. No meat was taken, as
the natives were sure to spear any animals that could not keep up with
the main flock. The saddles were all shifted to the horses that were
being led, and half an hour after their arrival the party were in their
saddles again, Mr. Roberts riding his own horse and his men three that
the blacks had been unable to catch, but which had remained close to
the station, and which were now easily driven in. It was not thought
necessary to leave any guard at the farm, and when it was proposed,
Mrs. Roberts laughed at the idea.
"The blacks have all gone," she said, "but if there are a few still
lurking about, Effie and I can easily defend the house. We will take
care not to stir out till you return."
Three days later the party returned. They had overtaken the blacks on
the evening of the day after starting, had killed at least half of
them, including their white leader, and had recovered all the animals.
So sharp was the lesson that the Roberts family were never afterwards
troubled by a hostile visit from the natives.
Transcriber's Note:
Italics are indicated by _underscores_.
Small capitals have been rendered in full capitals.
A number of minor spelling errors have been corrected without note.