A GRIM INTERRUPTION TO A LOVER'S MEETING.
Not on the battlements alone did lovers meet. At nearly the same hour of
the night after the ill-kept guard on the promenade, Conrad set forth to
greet Hilda, as had been his custom for many evenings during the past
two years. The girl stole quietly up among the sadly trampled grape
vines to a corner of the castle which the two had made their own. There
was an angle in the wall under the northern tower which was in darkness
whether the moon shone or no, and above this stone alcove, the
machicolated wall gave Conrad an opportunity for descent unseen, which
would not have been possible from the promenade itself, except on dark
nights. Here he placed his rope, and thus he slipped silently down to
meet the girl who crept up from the village for the pleasure of holding
whispered converse with him. When it had become evident that the castle
was to be starved into submission, there was no further talk of Hilda
returning to her old service. The girl would at least have plenty to eat
in the village, which could not be guaranteed to her in the castle, and
although Hilda would have run the risk of starving had she been allowed
to return, the Countess herself felt she could not, in justice to those
beleaguered with her, allow the tire woman to leave her present lodging.
Of late, although they stood in the shadow, Hilda's sharp eyes noted the
ever-increasing gauntness of Conrad, who, like all within the castle,
except the two ladies, was placed on short rations, and at last the girl
brought up with her, without saving anything, cakes of her own baking
from the village, and although at first Conrad thought of sharing his
good fortune with his comrades, reflection showed him that this could
not be done without endangering the secret of their rendezvous. Thus
their retreat in the secluded embrasure of the silent walls had become a
nocturnal picnic, Hilda watching her lover with tender solicitude while
he ate, sure for one night at least he should not starve. She begged him
to let her come oftener, but he, fearing discovery, would not permit
this, for her passing through the lines too frequently might raise
suspicion in the camp, where the greatest precautions were taken to
permit no supplies to pass the cordon, in which task the besiegers were
amazingly successful.
Their time of meeting was early in the evening, while the Count and his
household were at their last meal of the day, as at that hour there was
less chance of interruption, and there was also the advantage that Hilda
could return to Alken before it grew late.
Conrad had finished his welcome repast and the two stood in the darkness
together, the gloom perhaps made the more intense because it contrasted
so strongly with the sloping hillside flooded with bright moonlight,
when Hilda's quick ear, ever on the alert for a sound on the wall above
or the earth beneath them, heard a stealthy step, and she whispered
suddenly:
"Hush! Some one is approaching along the west side."
They remained breathless a few moments listening, and Conrad was about
to say he heard nothing, when round the corner came a muffled stooped
figure, which, although it was in darkness itself, stood out like a
black silhouette against the moonlit hills opposite. With a thrill of
fear Conrad recognised the evil face of Captain Steinmetz, peering with
anxious eyes ahead of him, luckily not in their direction, but towards
the plantation that clothed the hillside where the vineyard ended. At
first he thought the captain had discovered something of the meeting in
the corner, but it was soon evident that officer had no suspicion,
thinking himself entirely alone.
The two stood there in acute suspense, with Steinmetz before them,
almost within touching distance, did Conrad but reach out his hand.
While they trembled thus, scarce daring to breathe, they saw emerging
from the plantation, two figures, also cloaked, who paused at the edge
of the wood, and on the captain giving utterance to a low sibilant sound
like the soft hissing of a serpent, the two darted quickly across the
band of moonlight and stood beside the captain in the shadow of the
great north tower.
"Have you brought the money?" were the first words of Steinmetz, spoken
under his breath, but as distinctly heard by Conrad and his companion as
by those to whom the remark was addressed.
"We have brought three bags of it, Captain," said the foremost man. "The
rest will be given you when the castle is ours."
"But that is not according to the bargain," protested Steinmetz.
"It is according to the command of the Archbishop," replied the other,
with a shrug of his shoulders. "His Lordship is under the impression
that you can trust him with quite as much faith as he can trust you. If
you deal fair and honourably towards us, there will be no fear that you
will be cozened out of the rest of the money. If not--well, you will be
three weighty bags of gold to the good, but I warn you, there will be
little opportunity of enjoying it, for the Archbishop will exact stern
interest when the castle ultimately falls, as fall it must."
"A bargain is a bargain," muttered Steinmetz, in no good humour.
"The Archbishop will keep it, and if you stand by your word, the
remainder of the money will be paid you to-morrow night. So that is not
long to wait, for you will have but small chance of spending it in the
interval. Your hesitation gives colour to the Archbishop's suspicions
that you intend to play him false. I would I were so sure of as much
gold in so short a time, if you mean fair."
"Oh, I mean fair enough, and will take the gold, but I like not this
distrust of a man's motives."
"It is remarkable," replied the other, nonchalantly, "that the
Archbishop should be suspicious of you. I confess I do not understand it
myself, but I am simply the messenger, and merely lay down the orders of
my master. Do you take the money?"
"Yes, unless you now say you have forgotten to bring it, and that I must
deliver up the castle for nothing, and whistle for payment."
"No; the gold is here. You accept the Archbishop's terms, then?"
"Yes, since it is his will to drive so cautious a bargain."
The other turned to his fellow and took from him three well-filled bags,
each about half the size of a man's head, and these he passed to the
captain, who concealed them under his cloak. When the folds of the cloak
had fallen over and covered the treasure, the ambassador of the
Archbishop said:
"What are your final instructions regarding the assault on the castle?"
"I have caused to be removed from the gates the bags of sand and earth,
for I have had communication with the Black Count, telling him there is
no fear of an attack, and that we must hold ourselves in readiness,
before hunger too much weakens us, to open the gates and sally forth to
cut our way through the lines, and so escape. In this he agrees with me,
and even while I speak the gates are free, and may be opened by any one
from the inside. If you have your men in readiness to-morrow night when
the bell tolls twelve, taking care to keep them unseen and under cover
in the forest before the gates, until about an hour after midnight, when
the moon begins to throw the shadow of the wood nearly to the wall, you
can approach silently and with caution, when you will find the gates
push open at a touch. We change guard at midnight, and it may be half an
hour after that time before I will have opportunity to undo the bars
and bolts and leave the gates swinging freely. I shall give orders to
the sentinel to keep himself at the end of the battlements near this
tower, still it will be as well if you observe caution until you are in
the castle. I shall dispose the men-at-arms within so that you need not
fear much opposition, for they are at best half starved, and will have
little pluck to fight; but it is best to secure at once the body of the
Count, who may otherwise rally them and give you more trouble than you
look for. With reasonable luck, and all precaution, there need not be a
blow struck, but if you bungle and raise a premature alarm, you are like
to stir a hornet's nest, unless you secure at once Black Heinrich and
the young man Rodolph, who is his lieutenant, and who can fight like the
fiend himself. He it was who brought the Countess Tekla from Treves, and
I think the Archbishop will be glad to have hold of him, and should give
me extra pay for his capture."
Conrad had stood with dropped jaw, listening to this black treachery so
calmly enunciated by the captain, whose oath laid it upon him to protect
the lives of those he was thus coolly selling for gold. Conrad remained
motionless until the reference to the capture of his master was made,
then, forgetting where he was and the great need of secrecy, he strode
forward before Hilda could restrain him and cried, his voice quivering
with anger:
"You traitorous devil! Captain Judas!"
The three men jumped as if the Black Count himself had unexpectedly
sprung upon them, each whipping out his sword. Hilda, with a moan, sank
almost senseless to the ground at the angle of the walls, where she lay
unnoticed. Conrad being unarmed, saw that he would have no chance
against three, whose swords were already at his throat, so he sprang
aside from the well swung blade of the captain, flung himself on one of
the Archbishop's men, and wrested his weapon from him, the other,
baffled by the darkness and bewildered by the suddenness of the crisis,
was thus unable to come to the assistance of his colleague. Defending
himself from the onslaught of Captain Steinmetz, Conrad raised his voice
and shouted:
"Help! Turn out the guard! Treason! Treason!"
Along the top of the battlements were heard the hurried footsteps of the
sentinel, who cried as he ran:
"An attack! To arms; to arms!"
The keen-witted captain saw that not a moment was to be lost, or
destruction would fall on him. He turned savagely to the envoys and
said:
"Fly at once. Leave me to deal with this. You must not be seen."
The ambassadors, nothing loth to be quit of a situation so unforeseen
and so dangerous, fled to the plantation and disappeared. Steinmetz
easily parried the blows of Conrad, who was unused to the handling of a
sword, and when the sentinel looked over the wall, the captain said,
sternly and authoritatively:
"Cease your foolish shouting. Open the gates and send me here six armed
men as quickly as possible. Then come and stand on the wall at this
corner. I have other commands for you."
"Shall I call his Lordship the Count?"
"No. Obey at once, and attend strictly to what I have said to you."
The sentinel departed, trailing his pike behind him. A few moments later
the six men with drawn swords came running along the western wall, to
the spot where their master was holding off the infuriated Conrad.
"Seize this traitor," cried Steinmetz, "and gag him. Then conduct him to
the courtyard, where he is to be hanged forthwith. Sentinel, search the
battlements and find the ladder by which this rascal got out of the
fortress."
The six men, with their gagged prisoner, now marched back the way they
had come, Captain Steinmetz, pleased with his own resourcefulness in a
difficult situation, striding after them.
"Here is the rope dangling from the parapet," shouted the sentinel.
"Then bring it with you to the courtyard. I have use for it," cried the
captain, over his shoulder.
Hilda, moaning hysterically, yet fearful she would discover herself,
crouched along the wall in the shadow, following the cortége marching to
the open gates. She was shrewd enough to recognise the fact that if she
was to save her lover she must act quickly, and, if possible, get to the
Black Count himself, or failing him, to Rodolph. She knew there could be
no appeal to Captain Steinmetz, who must kill the witness of his
treachery, and that speedily, if he were to save his own head. She
slipped in behind the procession before the gates were closed, and kept
craftily in the rear of the excited throng who crowded round the
prisoner and their captain. She saw the sentinel coming down from the
battlements with the fatal rope in his hand, and heard as in a dream the
captain telling his indignant followers of their comrade's treachery.
Waiting to hear no more the girl ran like a hare, easily unseen, for all
attention was being paid to the captain's words, while curses were
muttered against the gagged and helpless man, to the main doorway and up
the stair, nearly upsetting Surrey, who came out of the great hall with
some trenchers in his hand. The Count sat moody at the head of the
table, with the others in their usual positions. To their surprise,
there burst in upon them a wild, dishevelled, frantic creature, whom, at
the moment, none of them recognised.
"Oh, my Lord! My Lord!" she cried; "they are hanging Conrad in the
courtyard. Oh, my Lord, save him! Save him!"
The Black Count started up in sudden anger, and roared with an oath:
"What if they are? He deserves it, I doubt not. Get you gone. How dare
you come screeching here like a night owl? Take this beldame away to a
mad house!" he shouted to the archer, who had entered, anxious to learn
what exciting event was going forward.
"It is Hilda! It is Hilda!" cried the Countess Tekla, springing to her
feet, and rushing to the frightened girl. "Hilda, what is it? Speak
calmly. You are safe here."
"Oh, my Lady, it is Conrad who is in danger. Save him, save him. I
cannot talk or it will be too late. Steinmetz is hanging him. The
captain sold the castle to the Archbishop, and Conrad saw it done.
Therefore he is killing Conrad. Oh, make haste, my Lord."
"What is that?" roared the Black Count. "Steinmetz a traitor? It is a
lie!"
"Let us see to it at once, my Lord," said Rodolph, sternly, "The thing
does not seem to me so incredible."
Count Heinrich grasped a naked sword, and with it in his hand, strode to
the door bareheaded as he was, his great shock of shaggy coal-black hair
seeming to bristle in anger. Rodolph, also picking up a sword, quickly
followed him. The Count jangled down the stone steps, and, emerging into
the courtyard, beheld a striking scene. Notwithstanding the bright
moonlight, part of the courtyard was in darkness, and men stood there
holding lighted torches above their heads, whose yellow flaring rays
mingled strangely with the pure white beams of the moon. The gates were
now shut, and the space within the walls was clamorous with excited men,
most of whom were gazing upward at a man astride a piece of timber that
projected from the castle wall, bidding him make haste. He had the rope
between his teeth, and was working his way to the end of the beam,
somewhat over-cautious, perhaps fearing a fall on the hard flags
beneath. Steinmetz, who shot forth curt commands, palpably nervous with
impatience, feeling the necessity for a regular execution before
witnesses, yet cursing the inevitable slowness of the proceedings, kept
an eye on the doorway, and was thus the first to see the coming of the
Black Count, whose mottled face in the glare of the torches looked like
a death's head. The captain started, and clenched and unclenched his
hands in an agony of anxiety, yet he knew his master could have no
suspicion of the real state of the case, and he counted on his impulse
to hang the man first and make inquiry after. It was not the Count's
coming he so much feared as that of the man who followed him, for he
knew the cool mastery of Lord Rodolph, who would perhaps insist on the
ungagging of the prisoner, and the hearing of his version. If then he
could get Conrad partly throttled while making explanations to his
master, all might yet be well, even were the gag removed, and so after
the first spasm of surprise at the unexpected coming of the Black Count,
he breathed easier, casting an evil eye on Rodolph, ready to resent his
interference, and to inflame the Count against him, if, as he rightly
surmised, there was not too great a liking between the two. Conrad
swayed slightly from side to side as he stood bound and gagged, the loop
of the rope round his neck. His face was ghastly in its pallor, and
looked as if life had already left it, the wanness of its appearance
being heightened by a trickle of blood which flowed down his chin from
the spot where the rude putting in of the gag had cut his lip.
The tall nobleman came forward with martial stride, his men falling into
immediate silence as they noticed his presence among them. When he spoke
it was with a level calmness for which Rodolph was not prepared, after
the outburst that almost immediately preceded it in the hall. The Count
looked lowering at his officer, and said:
"What have we here, Captain Steinmetz?"
"A traitor, my Lord. I have, for some time, suspected him, and to-night
kept watch upon him. He slipped down the walls by this rope which the
sentinel but a few moments since found there. I came upon him
trafficking with two emissaries of the Archbishop, and when I called to
the sentinel, all three fell upon me. This man himself, when the guards
came to my rescue, was fighting with a sword belonging to the
Archbishop. My lieutenant here, who disarmed him, informs me that it is
a Treves blade, and he will tell you that he took it from him."
"That is true, my Lord," said the lieutenant, when the Count darted a
piercing glance at him.
"In what is this man a traitor, Captain Steinmetz?" next asked the Black
Count, still speaking with moderation.
"I heard him agree to deliver up the castle to the Archbishop's troops,
letting them come over the wall by the same rope which he had used,
while he himself stood sentry, and delivered us up by giving no alarm."
"Why this haste with his execution, Captain Steinmetz? Am I not still
Lord of Thuron, with the power of life and death over those within?"
"Yes, my Lord, but if we are to be free from treachery, sharp punishment
should fall on the offender. I myself caught him red-handed, and my
lieutenant, as he has told you, took from him a traitorous sword of
Treves. For less than that, I cut off the head of a better man before
the siege began."
"True, so you did. This man has sold us, then? Search him, and let us
see at how much we are valued by their august Lordships."
Two men at a nod from the Count fell upon Conrad and brought forth all
there was to be found on him, a pitiful handful of small coins. These,
at the Count's command, the searchers poured into the huge open palm of
his Lordship, who looked closely at the pieces, demanding that a torch
be held near him, while he made the examination.
When it was finished the inspector thrust forth his open hand toward the
captain, saying:
"This is not traitorous money. Every coin has my own effigy on it,
which, if unlovely, is still honest? What say you to that, Captain
Steinmetz?"
"My Lord, the money was not paid to him, but promised when the castle
was delivered."
"Ah, Captain Steinmetz, there your own good heart deceives you. You know
so little of treachery that you think all men equally innocent. That is
not the way of the world, honest Steinmetz, for a traitor is ever a
suspicious villain, and demands not a few paltry pieces of silver, but
the yellow gold paid in hand. Strike a traitor, Captain Steinmetz, and
he jingles with gold."
As the Black Count spoke his voice gradually rose to a tone of such
menace that more than one standing near him trembled, and a paleness of
apprehension swept over the captain's hardened face. Heinrich, with a
sweep of his hand, scattered the coins clattering to the stones, and
with the flat of his drawn sword struck the captain quickly, first on
one side, then the other. An intense stillness pervaded the courtyard;
every man seemed transformed into stone, and stood there motionless,
dimly perceiving that something ominous was in the air, yet not
understanding the drift of events. As each blow fell, a chink of coins
broke the silence. The captain half drew his own sword, and cast a quick
glance over his shoulder at the gates.
"The gates are closed, Steinmetz," roared the Count, losing all control
of himself in his wild rage. "Lieutenant, see that they are securely
barred and guarded. Pikes here! Lower, and surround this traitor."
The lancemen jumped alertly at the word of command, and instantly a
bristling array of levelled pikes circled the doomed captain, who,
seeing the game was up and escape impossible, folded his arms across his
breast and stood there making no outcry.
"Unbind this man. Take the gag from his mouth and the rope from his
neck. Now, fellow, is it true that you were outside the walls? What were
you doing there?"
Conrad stood speechless, apparently in a dazed condition, looking about
him like one in a dream, but when the Emperor spoke kindly to him, he
moistened his dry lips, and drew the back of his hand across his chin.
"What did you say?" he asked, turning his eyes upon his master.
"My Lord, the Count, wishes to know if it is true that you were outside
the walls, and asks why you were there."
"I went to meet Hilda, who had come up from Alken."
"Then you disobeyed orders, and have deserved the fright you got," broke
in the Count. "How came you with a Treves blade?"
"I wrested it from one of the Archbishop's men when the captain fell on
me. I tried to defend myself and called for the guard, but when it came
it arrested and gagged me."
"What is the truth of this selling of the castle?"
"The captain was to unbar the gates an hour after guard-changing
to-morrow night, and the Archbishop's troops were to enter silently. He
told them to be certain to secure your Lordship first, otherwise you
might rally the men and defeat the soldiers, even though they got
inside."
The Black Count almost smiled as he heard this compliment paid him, and
he cast a malignant glance at the silent captain.
"Yes," he cried, "the opening of the gates seems more likely than the
climbing of the wall. Now search Steinmetz as you searched his prisoner,
and let us see what you discover. I think I heard the chime of coin in
his neighbourhood."
Without resistance the searchers brought forth the three bags of gold,
one of which the Count tore open, pouring the yellow pieces into his
palm as he had done with Conrad's silver. His eyes lit up again with the
insane frenzy which now and then shone in them, as he gazed down at the
coins, on each of which was the head of his old enemy, Arnold von
Isenberg. Scattering the money from his hand as if it had suddenly
become red hot, he seized the three bags one after another and dashed
them in fury on the stones, where they burst, sending the gold like a
shower of sparks from a smith's anvil all over the courtyard. Men's eyes
glittered at the sight, but such was their terror of the Black Count
that no one moved a muscle as this wealth rolled at their feet.
"Steinmetz," shouted the Count, "draw your sword and cast it on the
stones. No man can take it, for none amongst us is so low and vile but
he would be contaminated by the touch of it."
Captain Steinmetz drew his sword and flung it ringing at his master's
feet. The Count stamped on it near the hilt and shattered the blade like
an icicle. Turning to the followers he cried:
"You see this man has sold us. What should be the fate of such a
traitor?"
With one voice the men shouted:
"He should be hanged with the rope he designed for the other."
The Count pondered a moment with lowering brows, then said, his face as
malignant as that of a demon:
"Not so. My good brother of Treves has bought him, and I am too honest a
trader to cheat the holy Archbishop, God bless him, of his purchase. We
shall bind our worthy captain and straightway deliver him, as goods duly
bargained for, to his owner, von Isenberg. Tear off his cloak and bind
him, leaving his legs free that he may walk."
Surprise and delight gleamed in the captain's eyes. Merely to be
delivered to the Archbishop of Treves, was getting well out of a
predicament he had come to look upon as fatal. In spite of their fear of
the master of Thuron, there were murmurs at this unexampled clemency,
and Rodolph gave voice to the general feeling.
"I think, my Lord, that his treachery, not to speak of his usage of an
innocent man, is inadequately punished by simply handing him over to the
Archbishop, who assuredly will not molest him further."
But the Count made no answer. When the elbows of the criminal were
securely bound, Heinrich said;
"Lieutenant, select a dozen of your best catapult men as guard to the
prisoner. Bring with you the rope and take this Archbishop's man under
close watch to the top of the north tower. Let a torchbearer precede
us. Follow us, my Lord Rodolph, and you, fellow, who came so near to
hanging."
When they reached the top of the north tower, Captain Steinmetz, with
sudden premonition of his fate, now for the first time cried aloud for
mercy, but the Count paid no heed to him. From this tower could best be
descried the awful depth of the Thaurand's chasm, made the more terrible
by the partial illumination of the moon adding a seeming vastness to the
gulf, which the clearer light of day dispelled. The profound and narrow
valley appeared gloomy and unfathomable, and on the opposite height
above it gleamed the great white tent of the Archbishops.
"Bend back the catapult," commanded the Count.
The stalwart men threw themselves on the levers, and slowly worked back
the tremendous arms of the engine, which bent grudgingly, groaning from
long disuse. At last the claw-like clutches which held the incurvated
beams in place until released by a jerk of the rope, snapped into
position, and the catapult men, rising and straightening their backs
from the levers, drew hand across perspiring brow.
"Take up the rope," said the Count to Conrad, who with visible
reluctance lifted the release rope, and stood holding it.
"Now force this traitor's head between his knees. Double up his legs,
and tie him into a ball. The Archbishop must not complain that we
deliver goods slovenly."
Steinmetz screamed aloud, and cried that such punishment was inhuman;
even the guard hesitated, but an oath from the Black Count and a fierce
glare flung about him, put springs into their bodies, and they fell on
their late captain, smothering his cries, jamming down his head as they
had been directed to do, finally tying him into a bundle that looked
like nothing human. The wails of the doomed man in this constrained
position would have cried mercy to any less savage than the Count.
"Place him on the catapult."
Two men picked him up and flung him into the jaws of the waiting monster
with as little ceremony as if he were a sack of corn.
"Pull the rope, fellow."
Conrad stood motionless, gazing with horror at the furious Count.
"Stop, stop," cried Rodolph. "I protest against this cruelty. It is
never your intention to launch him into eternity in such ghastly
fashion. This is fiendish torture, not justice."
The Count, with the snarl of a wild beast, sprang forward, seized the
rope from Conrad's nerveless fingers, jerked the mechanism loose before
any could move to prevent him, and the great beams shot out like the
arms of a man swimming. The human bundle was hurled forth into space,
giving vent to a long continued shriek, that struck terror into every
heart but that of the man who stood with the rope in his hand, his
exultant face turned triumphantly upward in the moonlight. The shriek,
continually lessening, rose and fell as the victim's head revolved round
and round in its course through the air.
The human projectile disappeared long before it reached the earth, and
every one stood motionless awaiting the crash which they thought would
come to them in the still night air across the valley, but the Count
sprang forward, and standing at the parapet, shook his clenched fist
toward the sky, filling the valley with a madman's laughter which came
echoing back to them from the opposite cliffs, as if there were in the
hills a cave full of malignant maniacs.
"There, Arnold von Isenberg," he roared, "the gold is in my courtyard;
the merchandise is in your camp."