THE LADY YSOLINDE SAVES HER SOUL
The Duke's body sank down upon that of the soldier, still further
blocking the passage. And as for his head, I know not where that went to.
But the rush of his followers was utterly checked by the barrier of dead.
With a wild cry, "The Duke is dead! Duke Otho is slain!" they rushed down
and out of the Red Tower, eager at once to escape unharmed, and to carry
to their companions in the Wolfsberg the startling news.
Nevertheless, I cleared my arm, wiped my axe, and again stood ready.
"Come!" I cried--"come all of you. You desire to kill me? Well, I am
still waiting!"
But not a man answered. The stairway was clear, save of the headless
dead. And then, sudden as summer thunder, through the dumb and empty
silence, I heard clear and loud the clanging of the hammers of Prince
Karl upon the gates of Thorn.
At that I felt that I must roar aloud in my fierce joy. I shouted angrily
for more and more assailants to come up the stair, that I might kill them
all. I yearned to be first at the gate, to see the men whom I had led
break their way in to deliver the city. I, more than any other, had
brought them there. I had trained them for that work. Best of all, across
the stairway beneath me lay dead Otho, Duke of the Wolfmark, beheaded by
the Red Axe of his own Justicer.
"Husband! Hugo! Are you wounded?" said a voice behind me, a voice
which in a moment recalled me from my bloody imaginings and baresark
fury of fighting.
"Helene!" I cried.
She approached, and would have thrown her arms about me. But I held out
my hand to keep her off.
"Not now, child," I said; "touch me not. I am unwounded, but wet!"
And so I was, wet with that which had spouted from the neck of Otho von
Reuss, as his trunk stood a moment headless in the stairway ere it fell
prone--a hideous thing to see.
"Come, Helene," I said, "we must away. There is other work for your
husband to-night. You I will place with the Bishop Peter. But my place is
with the men of Plassenburg and with Karl, my noble Prince."
And I took her by the hand to lead her out.
"Not that way!" she cried, shrinking back.
For the bodies of the two slain men lay there. And the stairs ran red
from step to step in red drips and lappering pools.
So I bethought me of what we should do, and ran forthwith for my father's
cord, with which he was used to bind the malefactors upon the wheel.
"Come, Helene," said I, and straightway fastened the rope to the iron bar
from which I had made so many descents to the pavement in the old days of
the White Wolves.
I let myself down, and there in the angle of the tower wall, I waited to
catch my wife. She delayed somewhat, and I could not think wherefore.
But at last she came, bringing the Red Axe in her hand.
"Go not weaponless!" she said, and I reached up and took from her hand
that which had already served me so well. The Red Axe had done its work
now, and she was grateful.
Then full lightly she descended to my side, and we went down the streets
of Thorn, which were filled with hurrying burgesses, all with weapons in
their hands, rushing to discover the cause of the clamor. I took Helene
hastily to the palace of the Bishop. And when I arrived there I saw Peter
himself with his head out of a window.
"I come to claim your protection for my wife!" I cried.
He came down immediately with an attendant.
"Fear not," I said, "you will never be called in question for this kindly
deed. The Duke Otho is slain, and the army of Prince Karl of Plassenburg
is already at the gates."
"The Duke is dead!" he gasped. "Who slew him?"
"Who but the Hereditary Justicer of the Wolfmark should slay a traitor?"
said I, smiling at his astonishment. And I held up the Red Axe, on which
there was now no crystal-clear rim of shining steel. All was crimson from
haft to edge--red as blood.
"Here, for an hour, Helene, little wife, I must leave you!" I said.
But now she sobbed and clung to me as she had not done before, even in
the dungeon.
"Stay with me," she said. "I need you, Hugo!"
I took her by the hand.
"Little one," I whispered, as tenderly as I could, "I would not be
worthily your husband if I went not to meet those who are fighting to
save us all this night. They have come from far to deliver us. I were
false and recreant if I went not to their assistance."
"I know--I know," she said. "Go!"
And with that she gave a hand to the good Bishop and went quietly within,
with no more than a smile over her shoulder, like a watery April
sun-glint.
Then I betook me with all speed to the Weiss Thor, where I judged the
chief struggle would take place. And as I came I heard the rattle of
shot and the jarring thunder of the forehammers. The soldiers without
shouted, and the men within more feebly replied.
I came in sight of the gate. There on my left hand was the house of
Master Gerard von Sturm.
A fire was still flickering upon the tower of it.
Without I could hear the cheering and clamoring of the besiegers. But the
gates remained obstinately shut. They were stronger than the Prince had
anticipated.
As _I_ stood, uncertain what to do, I saw a slim white figure, the figure
of a woman, flash across the open space towards the gate. The men who
defended the gate towers were all upon the top of the wall. Before any
could stop her she had thrown herself upon the wheel by which the bars
were unfastened, and with a few turns had drawn them as deftly as evil
Duke Casimir had been wont to remove the teeth of the rich Hebrew folk
when he wanted supplies.
The White Gate slowly opened upon creaking hinges. The faces of the
soldiers of Plassenburg were seen without, the weapons gleamed in their
hands as they came on shouting fiercely. The guards of the Duke rushed
forward to close the gate. But the woman had clamped the wheel and stood
holding the bar.
It was the Lady Ysolinde. She saw me as the soldiers of Duke Otho closed
threateningly upon her. She waved her hand to me almost happily.
"_I have saved my soul, Hugo Gottfried_!" she cried. "_I have saved
my soul_!"
At that moment a soldier of the Black Riders struck her fiercely with his
lance. I saw the white bosom of her dress redden as he plucked his weapon
to him again. I was in time to catch her in my arms as the soldiers of
Plassenburg, with Prince Karl at their head, came through the White Gate
like a spring-tide, carrying all before them.
The Prince stayed at his wife's side.
"Ysolinde!" cried the Prince, aghast, bending over her--not heeding, nor
indeed, as I think, even seeing me.
"Karl!" she said, looking gently at him, "try and forgive me all the
rest. But be glad that I opened the White Gate for yon. I, Ysolinde, your
wife, did it for your sake."
I put her into her husband's arms. I saw at a glance that there was no
hope. She could not live many moments with that lance-thrust through
her breast.
She looked at him again.
"Karl--say 'Ysolinde, I love you!'" she whispered, almost shyly.
He looked down, and a rush of unwonted tears came to the eyes of the
Prince of Plassenburg.
"Ysolinde, I love you!" he made answer, in a broken voice.
She smiled, and then looked over his shoulder up at me.
_"Hugo Gottfried, have I not saved my soul?"_ she cried.
And so passed.