THE SIEGE OF THE COTTAGE
"MY children, I have bad news for you from Klingengolf; your father
will not be home for some time. He has had a fall, and has broken his
right arm badly, so that now he is in the hospital, and must stay there
till the bone is set. These sad tidings came by a man who was passing
through Carfoos on business, and your father sent me the message by
him, begging me also to come at once and tell you, my little ones."
Tonie and Blonda were eating their supper on the third evening after
Grubert's departure when Pastor Oshart came in with his bad news, which
made the children very down-hearted, for they had been looking forward
with gladness to Grubert's return that night, and they grieved too over
the suffering which they knew such an accident must cause him.
When the good pastor had answered all the questions that were put to
him, so far as it was in his power to do so, Tonie said,—
"Well then, since we are likely to be alone for some time longer, and
Master Rolf Bresser is not yet ready to claim his property, were it not
wise, dear pastor, for you to take it back to your house? Would it not
be safer there than here?"
"Nay, my boy, nay," replied the old man. "One or other of those fellows
may well be lurking about my house still. Rolf Bresser is known to have
been there more than once, so the money would be supposed to be there
too. No, Tonie, since so far there seems no sign of the hiding-place of
the bag having been discovered, better let it rest where it is. Where
have you put it, my children?"
"Upstairs, under Blonda's bed," replied Tonie.
"Good, then leave it there. And now goodbye. I will try and run over to
see you to-morrow, so that, in writing to the father at Klingengolf, I
may give him the latest news of his dear ones. Forget not, Tonie, to
use all care and diligence in shutting up the house; and once shut, see
that thou open the door to none. In this lonely place, even when we
look not for danger, it is well to take all possible precautions."
The old pastor trudged off homewards; he would gladly have remained and
spent the night with the children at the woodcutter's cottage, for he
did not like their being alone, but he knew that his old housekeeper
at home would almost no die of fear if he did not return. And he felt
now as if the cottage—even though the money was there—was safer from
intruders than his own house, since he fondly believed that no one had
a suspicion whither the bag had been conveyed.
As for Tonie and Blonda Reuss, they were tired and sleepy, for they had
been out nearly all day, so they went to bed early. And by the time
the night fairly closed in, they were both sound asleep—Tonie in his
slip of a room screened off from the kitchen, and Blonda in her little
bed-chamber upstairs.
Tonie had been asleep for about three hours or so when he was roused by
a loud knock at the front door of the cottage, the door that faced the
forest, from which the house was separated only by the road. Startled,
breathless, he sat up in bed, hardly knowing as yet whether he was
awake or dreaming. Then came the knock again, and he sprang out of bed,
hurried on some clothes, and by a sort of natural instinct was running
to open the door, when he remembered the pastor's words, "When the door
is once shut, open to none."
"But what if some one should be ill or in trouble, or have lost his
way?" said Tonie to himself. "Surely in such case it were cruelty not
to open!"
And so thinking, he paused at the door, and called through it, "Who
knocks? Who is there?"
"Open to us; we would speak with thee," said a gruff voice, which Tonie
did not recognise.
"That may not be," replied the boy. "My father is from home, and we are
only children here; go your way, I cannot open to you."
"Alas!" said another voice, shrill and sharp, which Tonie thought
sounded like that of Hervitz Valden. "My companion here hath cut
himself grievously with an axe, and is faint with loss of blood. He
would fain lie down for an hour or two. Let us in, and suffer him to
rest on a bed for a while, and after that we will go on our way."
Just at that moment, Blonda came down, roused by the noise, and stood
at her brother's elbow, wrapped in an old dark cloak.
"A man wounded with an axe; shall I let him and the other in? How
thinkest thou, Blonda?" said Tonie.
"No, brother, we can but obey the commands given to us by those who
are wiser than we," replied the little girl. "If harm should come of
our opening, we should be blamed, and rightly. If what the man says is
true, that his fellow is wounded, and would fain lie down, that what
doth hinder him from lying on the moss under the trees? It is warm
weather, and the ground is not damp."
"Ay, Blonda, thou art right," said Tonie.
Then he called through the door once more—"Pass on, travellers; we
cannot open to you."
"Now listen, thou young imp," said another voice, which Tonie knew
could belong to none other than Dorlat Valden. "We have lately been
robbed of a bag of coin, and we would get back our own. We have some
reason to think that the money has found its way to this cottage. Let
us in quietly, and we will take our own and depart. Refuse to admit
us, and thou must take the consequences. We know that thy father is
disabled and in the hospital at Klingengolf. There is not a soul within
miles of this place, and therefore think not that you children will
have help. And, moreover, we have an old grudge against thy father,
Tonie, seeing that he is a friend of that meddling old pastor, Bertholm
Oshart, and if thou do not our bidding, we are ready for revenge. But I
waste time in parleying with thee. Once more, wilt thou open to us?"
"We have orders to open to none to-night, and we cannot choose but
obey," replied Tonie firmly.
"It is so," said Blonda; "we are but children, and we cannot choose but
obey."
There was the sound of a muttered oath from Dorlat, and an impatient
exclamation from Hervitz. Then the latter said,—
"By fair means or foul, ye obstinate brats, we purpose to enter; so
understand this once for all. If you let us in without hindrance, no
harm shall come to either of you, or to your father's goods; but if we
have to break in and help ourselves, then beware, for in truth we will
not spare you."
To this Tonie was about to reply, but Blonda whispered, "Answer him
not; let us rather think what we shall do if the men find means to
enter. The money must be saved at all costs."
"Ay, but how? There is not a place here in which we could hide it where
the men will not search if once they get in. No; we must get it away
somehow."
"Could we not run to Carfoos with it?" suggested Blonda anxiously.
"Too far," rejoined Tonie; "besides, we might be overtaken and robbed.
Yes; that cannot be thought of, but, perhaps—"
Just then came a thundering knock with an axe upon the door. The wood
cracked; the iron of the lock rang again.
The children stood staring at each other, seeming rooted to the floor
in their terror.
"The lock is broken," whispered Tonie. "If now the bolt hold not, they
will be in directly."
"I will run up and fetch the bag," said Blonda, and she flew upstairs
and was back again, with the bag in her hand, in a moment.
Meanwhile another heavy blow had fallen, which would have split the
door in two had not the long bolt held it together.
"Oh, if but our dear father were here; he would tell us what to do!"
sobbed Tonie, wringing his hands in an agony of fear.
"The Heavenly Father is near us, Tonie; He heareth ever. See, the bolt
holds yet, and we will cry to God to help us, so that we may not betray
our trust."
Amid the noise of the rude, angry voices and the heavy blows of the
axe, Blonda's clear voice sounded strangely calm and sweet.
"Great Father, Thou knowest that we are in fear, and are sore beset
this night. Our other father is away, and the evil men would steal this
treasure, which is not ours, but meant only for Thy poor and hungry
ones. We cry to Thee for help. Show us what to do; send Thine angel to
deliver us; take care of us, and likewise of this bag, for Christ's
sake, Amen."
As the children rose from their knees, a great crash of glass was
heard. It seemed to come from Blonda's room upstairs.
"What is that?" cried Tonie. "Surely the men have not got in through
thy window?"
But the words were scarcely spoken when flying down the steep, narrow
staircase came the lithe form of Freskel Valden.
"Question me not," he muttered hoarsely. "We have but a moment. Hast
thou got the money, Blonda? It is well; then follow me. If but we can
win forth out of these four walls, Nature shall keep the treasure for
us."
So saying, Freskel led the way to the back door, and, stooping,
listened intently with his ear to the key-hole.
"Good," said he, "no one is there; come, let us go."
Tonie turned the key softly in the lock, removed the wooden bar that
strengthened the defences of the door, and in an instant Freskel glided
out, followed by the children. As Tonie drew the back door to behind
him, a great crash and shout in the house announced that the front door
had at last given way.
"Quick! In among the trees with you, or we may be seen from the
windows!" said Freskel, in low, hissing tones. "Dorlat has eyes like a
cat, and finding you not, he may come out to look for you in the open."
The children darted into the deep shadows of the pines, and in a minute
or two had reached the margin of the lake, and crouched down behind a
boulder.
"Shall we hide the bag under one of these stones, Freskel?" whispered
Tonie.
"Nay, nay, that were a fool's corner indeed!" replied Freskel. "Rather
let it make a voyage across the lake to the island, and there shall the
ghosts guard it safely for us till the pastor ask for it again."
"Then, if thou wilt convey it thither, Freskel," said Blonda, "take the
raft; Tonie can paddle it for thee."
"Nay, little one, see how the moon shines! The harvest moon too; and if
she turned her big yellow face on yon raft, she would betray us. Nay,
I go indeed—but it must be as the fish goes. Give me the bag, Blonda;
see, I will sling it by this kerchief to my neck! So—now it is safe,
and the sooner I go the better. Hide, both of you, but watch too, lest
the enemy come upon you unawares even here. Kiss me for luck, little
Blonda, for I am going—nay—I am gone!"
And, as the lad spoke, he joined his hands above his head, and dived
down into the still, black water, and when the children next caught a
glimpse of his dark head, he was well on his way towards the rocky,
bush-grown shore of the Isle of Ghosts.
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