STOLEN!
The night was still young, and when I had seen my mistress and her
women comfortably settled, I sauntered back towards the middle of the
camp. The three fires stood here, and there, and there, among the
trees, like the feet of a three-legged stool; while between them lay a
middle space which partook of the light of all, and yet remained
shadowy and ill-defined. A single beech which stood in this space, and
served in some degree to screen our fire from observation, added to
the darkness of the borderland. At times the flames blazed up,
disclosing trunk and branches; again they waned, and only a shadowy
mass filled the middle space.
I went and stood under this tree and looked about me. The Waldgrave
had disappeared, probably to his couch. So had Von Werder. Only
General Tzerclas remained beside the fire at which we had supped, and
he no longer sat erect. Covered with a great cloak he lay at his ease
on a pile of furs, reading by the light of the fire in a small fat
book, which even at that distance I could see was thumbed and
dog's-eared. Such an employment in such a man--in huge contrast with
the noisy brawling and laughter of his following--struck me as
remarkable. I felt a great curiosity to know what he was studying, and
in particular whether it was the Bible. But the distance between us
was too great and the light too uncertain; and after straining my eyes
awhile I gave up the attempt, consoling myself with the thought that
had I been nearer I had perhaps been no wiser.
I was about to withdraw, tolerably satisfied, to seek my own rest,
when a stick snapped sharply behind me. Unwilling to be caught spying,
I turned quickly and found myself face to face with a tall figure,
which had come up noiselessly behind me. The unknown was so close to
me, I recoiled in alarm; but the next moment he lowered his cloak from
his face, and I saw that it was Von Werder.
'Hush, man!' he said, raising his hand to enforce caution. 'A word
with you. Come this way.'
He gave me no time to demur or ask questions, but taking obedience for
granted, turned and led the way down a narrow path, proceeding
steadily onwards until the glare of the fire sank into a distant gleam
behind us. Then he stopped suddenly and faced me, but the darkness in
which we stood among the tree-trunks still prevented me seeing his
features, and gave to the whole interview an air of mystery.
'You are the Countess of Heritzburg's steward?' he said abruptly.
'I am,' I answered, wondering at the change in his tone, which, deep
before, had become on a sudden imperative. By the fire and in
Tzerclas' company he had spoken with a kind of diffidence, an air of
acknowledged inferiority. Not a trace of that remained.
'The Waldgrave Rupert,' he continued--'he is a new acquaintance?'
'He is not an old friend,' I replied. I could not think what he would
be at with his questions. All my instincts were on the side of
refusing to answer them. But his manner imposed upon me, though his
figure and face were hidden; and though I wondered, I answered.
'He is young,' he said, as if to himself.
'Yes, he is young,' I answered dryly. 'He will grow older.'
He remained silent a moment, apparently in thought. Then he spoke
suddenly and bluntly. 'You are an honest man, I believe,' he said. 'I
watched you at supper, and I think I can trust you. I will be plain
with you. Your mistress had better have stayed at Heritzburg,
steward.'
'It is possible,' I said. I was more than half inclined to think so
myself.
'She has come abroad, however. That being so, the sooner she is in
Cassel, the better.'
'We are going thither,' I answered.
'You were!' he replied; and the meaning in his voice gave me a start.
'You were, I say?' he continued strenuously. 'Whither you are going
now will depend, unless you exert yourself and are careful, on General
John Tzerclas of the Saxon service. You visit his camp to-morrow. Take
a hint. Get your mistress out of it and inside the walls of Cassel as
soon as you can.'
'Why?' I said stubbornly. 'Why?' For it seemed to me that I was being
asked all and told nothing. The man's vague warnings chimed in with my
own fears, and yet I resented them coming from a stranger. I tried to
pierce the darkness, to read his face, to solve the mystery of his
altered tone. But the night baffled me; I could see nothing save a
tall, dark form, and I fell back upon words and obstruction. 'Why?' I
asked jealously. 'He is my lady's cousin.'
'After a fashion,' the stranger rejoined coldly and slowly, and not at
all as if he meant to argue with me. 'I should be better content, man,
if he were her uncle. However, I have said enough. Do you bear it in
mind, and as you are faithful, be wary. So much for that. And now,' he
continued, in a different tone, a tone in which a note of anxiety
lurked whether he would or no, 'I have a question to ask on my own
account, friend. Have you heard at any time within the last twelve
months of a lost child being picked up to the north of this, in
Heritzburg or the neighbourhood?'
'A lost child?' I repeated in astonishment.
'Yes!' he retorted impatiently. And I felt, though I could not see,
that he was peering at me as I had lately peered at him. 'Isn't that
plain German? A lost child, man? There is nothing hard to understand
in it. Such a thing has been heard of before--and found, I suppose. A
little boy, two years old.'
'No,' I said, 'I have heard nothing of one. A child two years old?
Why, it could not go alone; it could not walk!'
In the darkness, which is a wonderful sharpener of ears, I heard the
man move hastily. 'No,' he said with a stern note in his voice, 'I
suppose not; I suppose it could not. At any rate, you have not heard
of it?'
'No,' I said, 'certainly not.'
'If it had been found Heritzburg way,' he continued jealously, 'you
would have, I suppose?'
'I should have--if any one,' I answered.
'Thank you,' he said curtly. 'That is all now. Good night.'
And suddenly, with that only, and no warning or further farewell, he
turned and strode off. I heard him go plunging through the last year's
leaves, and the noise told me that he trod them sternly and heavily,
with the foot of a man disappointed, and not for the first time.
'It must be his child,' I thought, looking after him.
I waited until the last sound of his retreat had died away, and then I
made my own way back to the camp. As chance would have it, I hit it
close to the servants' fire, and before I could turn was espied by
some of those who sat at it. One, a stout, swarthy fellow, with bright
black eyes, and a small feather in his cap, sprang up and came towards
me.
'Why so shy, comrade?' he cried, with a hiccough in his voice.
'Himmel! There are a pair of us!' And he raised his hand and laid it
on my head--with an effort, for I am six feet and two inches. 'Peace!'
and he touched me on the breast. 'War!' and he touched himself. 'And a
good broad piece you are, and a big piece, and a heavy piece, I'll
warrant!' he continued.
'I might say the same for you!' I retorted, suffering him to lead me
to the fire.
'Oh, I?' he cried with a drunken swagger. 'I am a double gold ducat,
true metal, stamped with the Emperor's man-at-arms! Melted in the Low
Countries under Spinola--that is, these thirteen years back--minted by
Wallenstein, tried by the noble general!
"Clink! Clink! Clink!
Sword and stirrup and spur.
Ride! Ride! Ride!
Fast as feather or fur!"
That is my sort! But come, welcome! Will you drink? Will you play?
Will you 'list? Come, the night is young,
"For the night-sky is red,
And the burgher's abed,
And bold Pappenheim's raiding the lea!"
Which shall it be, friend?'
'I will drink with you or play with you, captain,' I answered, seeing
nothing else for it, 'so far as a poor man may; but as for enlisting,
I am satisfied with my present service.'
'Ha! ha! I can quite understand that!' he answered, winking tipsily.
'Woman, lovely woman! Here's to her! Here's to her! Here's to her,
lads of the free company!
"Drink, lads, drink!
Firkin and flagon and flask.
Hands, lads, hands!
A round to the maid in the mask!"
Why, man, you look like a death's head! You are too sober! Shame on
you, and you a German!'
'An Italian were as good a toper!' one of the men beside him growled.
'Or a whey-fed Switzer!'
'Perhaps you are better with the dice!' the captain, intendant, or
what he was, continued. 'You will throw a main? Come, for the honour
of your mistress!'
I had nearly a score of ducats of my own in my pouch, and so far I
could pay if I lost. I thought that I might get some clue to Tzerclas'
nature and plans by humouring the man, and I assented.
'The dice, lads, the dice!' he cried. Ludwig, the others called him.
'"Ho, the roof shall be red
O'er the heretic's head,
For bold Pappenheim's raiding the lea!"
The dice, the dice!'
'Your guest looks scared,' one said, looking at me grimly. 'Perhaps he
is a heretic!'
'Chut! we are all heretics for the present!' Ludwig answered
recklessly. 'A fig for a credo and a fig for a psalm! Give me a good
horse and a good sword and fat farmhouses. I ask no more. Shall it be
a short life and a merry one? The highest to have it?'
'Content,' I said, trying to fall into his humour.
'A ducat a throw?' he asked, posing the caster. A man, as he spoke,
placed a saddle between us, while half a dozen others pressed round to
watch us. The flame leaping up shone on their dark, lean faces and
gleaming eyes, or picked out here and there the haft of a knife or the
butt of a pistol. Some wore steel caps, some caps of fur, some gaudy
handkerchiefs twisted round their heads. There were Spaniards,
Bohemians, Walloons among them; a Croat or two; a few Saxons. 'Come,'
cried the captain, rattling the dice-box. 'A ducat a throw, Master
Peace? Between gentlemen?'
'Content,' I said, though my heart beat fast. I had never even seen
men play so high.
'So!' growled a German who crouched beside me--a one-eyed man, fat and
fair, the one fair-faced man in the company; ''tis a cock of a fine
hackle!'
'See me strip him!' Captain Ludwig rejoined gleefully. And he threw
and I threw, and I won; while the flame, leaping and sinking, flung
its ruddy light on the walls of our huge, leafy chamber. Then he won.
Then I won. I won again, again, again!
'He has the fiend's own luck!' a Pole cried with a curse.
'Steady, Ludwig!' quoth another. 'Will you be beaten by a clod-pate?'
'Fill his cup!' my opponent cried hardily. 'He has the knack of it!
But I will strip him! Beat up the fire there! I can't see the spots.
That is nine ducats you have won, good broad-piece! Throw away!'
I threw, and at it we went again, but now luck began to run against
me, though slowly. The hollow rattle of the dice, the voices calling
the numbers, the oath and the cry of triumph want on monotonously:
went on--and I think the spirit of play had fairly got hold of
me--when a stern voice suddenly broke in on our game.
'Put up, there, you rascals!' Tzerclas cried from his fire. 'Have
done, do you hear, or it will be the worse for you! Kennel, I say!'
Captain Ludwig swore under his breath. 'Ugh!' he muttered, 'just as I
was getting my hand in! What is the score? Seven ducats to me; and
little enough for the trouble. Hand over, comrade. You know the
proverb.'
In haste to be gone after the warning we had received, I plunged my
hand into my pouch, and drew out in a hurry, not a fistful of ducats
as I intended, but a score of links of gold chain, which for a moment
glittered in the firelight. As quickly as I could I thrust the
chain--it was Marie Wort's, of course--back into my pocket, but not
before the German sitting beside me had seen it. I looked at him
guiltily while I fumbled for the money, and he tried to look as if he
had seen nothing. But his one eye sparkled evilly, and I saw his lips
tremble with greed. He made no remark, however, and in a moment I
found the money and paid my debt.
Most of the men had already laid themselves down and were snoring,
with their feet to the fire. I muttered good night, and seizing my cap
went off. To gain my quarters, I had to walk across the open under the
beech-tree. I had just reached this tree, and was passing through the
shadow under the branches, when the sound of a light footstep at my
heels startled me, and turning in my tracks I surprised the one-eyed
German.
'Well,' I said wrathfully--I was not in the best of tempers at
losing--'what do you want?'
The action and the challenge took him aback. 'Want?' he grumbled,
recoiling a step. 'Nothing. Is this your private property?'
He had _thief_ written all over his fat, pale face, and I knew very
well what private property he wanted. If I ever saw a sneaking,
hang-dog visage it was his! The more I looked at him the more I
loathed him.
'Go!' I said; 'get home, you cur! or I will break every bone in your
body.'
He glared at me with a curse in his one eye, but he saw that I was too
big for him. Besides, General Tzerclas lay reading by his fire thirty
paces away. Baffled and furious, the rascal slunk off with a muttered
word, and went back the way he had come.
I found Ernst on guard, and after seeing to the fire and hearing that
all was well, I lay down beside him in my cloak. But I found it less
easy to sleep. The firelight, playing among the leaves and branches
overhead, formed likenesses of the men I had left, now grotesque
masks, and now scowling faces, fierce-eyed and grim. Von Werder's
warning, too, recurred to me with added weight and would not leave me
at peace. I wondered what he meant; I wondered what he suspected,
still more, what he knew.
And yet had I need to wonder, or do more than look round and use my
wits? What was our position? How were we situate? In the camp and in
the hands of a soldier of fortune; a man cold and polite, probably
cruel and possibly brutal, lacking enthusiasm, lacking, or I was
mistaken, religion, without any check save such as his ambition or
fears imposed upon him. And for his power, I saw him surrounded by
desperadoes, soldiers in name, banditti in fact, savage, reckless, and
unscrupulous; the men, or the twin-brothers of the men, who under
another banner had sacked Magdeburg and ravaged Halle.
What was to prevent such a man making his advantage out of us? What
was to prevent him marching back to Heritzburg and seizing town and
castle under cover of my lady's name, or detaining us as long as he
saw fit, or as suited his purpose? The Landgrave and his Minister were
far away, plunged in the turmoil of a great war. The Emperor's
authority was at an end. The Saxon circle to which we belonged was
disorganized. All law, all order, all administration outside the walls
of the cities were in abeyance. In his own camp and as far beyond it
as his sword could reach the soldier of fortune was lord, absolute and
uncontrolled.
This trouble kept me turning and tossing for a good hour. At one
moment, I made up my mind to rouse my lady before it was light and be
gone with the dawn, if I could persuade her; at another, I judged it
better to wait until the camp was struck and the horses were saddled,
and then to bid Tzerclas, while our numbers were something like equal,
go his way and let us go ours--to Frankfort or Cassel, or wherever
strong walls and honest citizens, with wives and daughters of their
own, held out a prospect of safety.
The mind once roused to activity works, whether a man will or no. When
I had thought that matter threadbare, I fell, in my own despite and to
my great torment, on another; the gold necklace. Through the day, and
pending some opportunity of restoring the chain by stealth, I had
shunned its owner. Her dejection, her silence, the way in which she
drooped in the saddle, all had reproached me. To avoid that reproach,
still more to avoid the meekness of her eyes, I had ridden at a
distance from her, sometimes at the head of our company, sometimes at
the tail, but never where she rode. And all day I had had a dozen
things to consider.
Yet, in spite of this care and preoccupation, I had not succeeded in
keeping her out of my mind. At fords and broken bits of the road, or
at steep places where the track wound above the Werra, the thought,
'How will she cross this?' had occurred to me, so that I had found it
hard to hold off from her at such places. And, then, there was the
necklace. It burned in my pocket. It made me feel, whenever my hand
lighted on it, like a thief, and as mean as the meanest. For a time,
it is true, after our meeting with Tzerclas, I had managed to forget
it; but now, in the watches of the night, I was consumed with longing
to be rid of the thing, to see it back in her possession, to close the
matter before some inconceivable trick of spiteful fortune put it out
of my power to do so. For, what if an accident happened to me and the
chain were found in my pocket? What would she think of me then? Or if
the last accident of all befell me, and she never got her own?
These imaginations, working in a mind already fevered, spurred me so
painfully that I felt I could hardly wait till morning. Two or three
times in the night I rose on my elbow and looked round the sleeping
camp, and wished that I could return the chain to her then and there.
I could not. And at last, not long before daybreak, I fell asleep. But
even then the chain did not leave me at peace. It haunted my dreams.
It slid through my fingers and fell away into unfathomable depths. Or
a man with his face hidden dangled it before my eyes, and went away,
away, away, while I stood unable to move hand or foot. Or I was
digging in a pit for it, digging with nails and bleeding fingers,
believing it to be another inch, always another inch below, yet never
able to reach it however hard I worked.
I awoke at last, bathed in perspiration and unrefreshed, to find the
sun an hour up and the camp beginning to stir itself. Here and there a
man was renewing the fires, while his fellows sat up yawning, or,
crouching chin and knees together, looked on drowsily. The chill
morning air, the curling smoke, the song of the lark as it soared into
the blue heaven, the snort and neigh of the tethered horses, the
sounds of waking life and reality seemed to bless me. I thanked Heaven
it was a dream.
Young Jacob was tending our fire, and I sat awhile, watching him
sleepily. 'It will be a fine day,' I said at last, preparing to get to
my feet.
'For certain,' he answered. Then he looked at me shyly. 'You were in
the wars, last night, Master Martin?' he said.
'In the wars?' I exclaimed. 'What do you mean?' And I stared at him;
waiting, with one knee and one foot on the ground for his answer.
He pointed to my cloak. I looked down, and saw to my surprise a great
slit in it--a clean cut in the stuff, a foot long. For a moment I
looked at the slit, wondering stupidly and trying to remember how I
could have done it. Then a sudden flash, of intelligence entered my
mind, and with a dreadful pang of terror, I thrust my hand into my
pouch. The chain was gone!
I sprang to my feet. I tore off the pouch and peered into it. I shook
my clothes like one possessed. I stooped and searched the ground where
I had lain. But all fruitlessly. The chain was gone!
As soon as I knew this for certain, I turned on Jacob, and seizing him
by the throat, shook him to and fro. 'Wretch!' I said. 'You have
slept! You have slept and let us be robbed! You have ruined me!'
He gurgled out a startled denial, and the others came round us and got
him from me. But my outcry had roused all our part of the camp; even
my lady put her head out of the tent and asked what was the matter.
Some one told her.
'That is bad,' she said kindly. 'What is it you have lost, Martin?'
Over her shoulder I saw a pale face peer out--Marie Wort's; and on the
instant I felt my rage die down into a miserable chill, the chill of
despair.
'Seven ducats,' I said sullenly, looking down at the ground, for the
truth, at sight of her, crushed me. I was a thief! This had made me
one. Who was I to cry out that I was robbed?
'It must be one of the strangers,' my lady said in a low voice and
with an air of disturbance. 'Do you----'
I sprang away without waiting to hear more--they must have thought me
mad. I tore to the spot where I had diced the night before. Three or
four men sat round the fire, swearing and grumbling, as is the manner
of their kind in the morning; but the man I wanted was not among them.
'Where is Ludwig?' I panted. 'Where is he?'
A form, wrapped head and all in a cloak, struggled for a moment with
its coverings, and freeing itself at last, rose to a sitting posture.
It was Captain Ludwig.
'Who wants me?' he muttered sleepily.
'I!' I cried, stooping and seizing him by the shoulder. I was
trembling with excitement. 'I have been robbed! Do you hear, man? I
have been robbed! In the night!'
He shook me off impatiently. 'Well, what is that to me?' he grunted.
And he turned to warm himself.
'Where is the Saxon who sat by me last night?' I demanded, almost
beside myself with fury.
'How do I know?' he answered, shrugging his shoulders peevishly.
'Robbed? Well, you are not the first person that has been robbed. You
need not make such an outcry about it. There is more than one thief
about, eh, Taddeo?' And he winked cunningly at his comrade.
The man's indifference maddened me. I could scarcely keep my hands off
him. Fortunately, Taddeo's answer put an end to my doubts.
[Illustration: . . . Ludwig, all his indifference cast to the winds,
continued to stamp and scream . . .]
'There is one less, at any rate, captain,' he said carelessly,
stooping forward to stir the embers. 'The Saxon is gone.'
'Himmel! He has, has he? Without leave?' Ludwig answered. 'The worse
for him if we catch him, that is all!'
'He went off with the German and his servants an hour before sunrise,'
Taddeo said with a yawn.
'He had better not let our noble general overtake him!' Ludwig
answered grimly, while I stood still, stricken dumb by the news. 'But
enough of that. Where is my cap?'
Taddeo pushed it towards him with his foot, and he took it up and put
it on. He had no sooner done so, however, than a thought seemed to
strike him. He snatched the cap off again, and, plunging his hand into
it, groped in the lining. The next instant he sprang to his feet with
a howl of rage.
Taddeo looked at him in astonishment. 'What is it?' he asked.
For answer, Ludwig ran at him and dealt him a tremendous kick. 'There,
pig, that is for you!' he cried vengefully, his eyes almost starting
from his head. 'You will not ask what it is next time! That Saxon
hound has robbed me--that is what it is. But he shall pay for it. He
shall hang before night! Every ducat I had he has taken, pig, dog,
vermin that he is! But I'll be even with him. I'll lash----'
And Master Ludwig, all his indifference cast to the winds, continued
to stamp and scream so loudly that in the end Tzerclas overheard him,
and appeared.
'What is this?' the general said harshly. 'Is that man mad?'
Ludwig grew a little calmer at sight of him. 'The Saxon, Heller,' he
answered, scowling. 'He has deserted with fifty ducats of mine,
general; good honest money!'
'The worse for you,' Tzerclas answered cynically. 'And the worse for
him, if I catch him. He will hang.'
'He has taken a gold chain of mine also,' I said, thrusting myself
forward.
The general looked hard at me. 'Umph!' he said. 'Which way has he
gone?'
'He left with the German gentleman and his two servants at daybreak,'
Taddeo answered, rubbing himself. 'I thought that he had orders to go
with them.'
'He has gone north, then?'
'North they started,' Taddeo whimpered.
The general turned to Ludwig. 'Take two men,' he said curtly, 'and
follow him. But, whether you catch him or not, see that you are back
two hours before noon. And let me have no more noise.'
Ludwig saluted hastily, and, it will be believed, lost no time in
obeying his orders. In two minutes he was in the saddle, and dashed
out of camp, followed by two of his men and one of my lady's, whom I
took leave to add to the party for the better care of my property,
should it be recovered. I looked after them with longing eyes, and
listened to the last beat of the hoofs as they passed through the
forest. And then for three hours I had to wait in a dreadful state of
suspense and inaction. At the end of that time the party rode in
again, the horses bloody with spurring, the riders gloomy and
chapfallen. They had galloped four leagues without coming on the
slightest trace of the fugitive or his companions.
'The German never went north,' Ludwig said, looking darkly at his
chief.
Tzerclas smoothed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. 'Are you
sure of that?' he asked.
'Quite, general. They have all gone south together,' Ludwig answered,
'and are far enough away by this time.'
'Umph! Well, we start in an hour.'
And that was all! I wandered away and stood staring at the ground. I
remembered that Peter the locksmith had valued the chain at two
hundred ducats, a sum exceeding any I could pay. But that was not the
worst. What was I to say to the girl? How was I to explain a piece of
folly, mischief, call it what you will, that had turned out so badly?
If I told her the truth, would she believe me?
At that thought I started. Why tell her the truth at all? Why not
leave her in ignorance? She would be none the worse, for the chain was
gone. And I, who had never meant to steal it, should be the better,
seeing that I should escape the humiliation of confessing what I had
done. Confession could do no good to her. And in what a position it
would place me!
Leaning against a tree and driving my heel moodily into the soil, I
was still battling with this temptation--for a temptation I knew it
was, even then--when a light touch fell on my sleeve. I turned, and
there was the girl herself, waiting to speak to me!