TwoBavarians had been recommended to him as aides-de-camp, men of good breeding and great courtesy. They had arrived with the Elector Maximilian, but had asked Tilly as a favour to be attached to an officer of experience with the view of learning all they could. In some way Nigel's name came up, and to Nigel they were attached. Nigel found their society and their comradeship very agreeable, and kept them constantly employed. At the table their talk ran much on the notable warriors of old and modern times, and personal daring and valour they extolled as the most godlike virtues: from which Nigel deduced that they had seen little of actual service, for men who have been through the grim experience of a hardly-fought campaign, not to say two or three, know how little these avail at one time, how greatly at another, according to the twists and turns of fortune or the success of strategy: know how they are displayed by the commonest soldier or by the greatest general without bragging, or any claim to be considered unusual. But the two aides were not much older than himself, and very devout men, and there was no harm in their talk if it was rather too much in one tune.
Gustavus' army made a formidable show as it took up a position on the high ground on the opposite bank of the Lech. Nigel noted that his artillery was lighter and more numerous than Tilly's, and his batteries were placed more closely together on ground that was somewhat higher than Tilly's, and therefore should have more effect gun for gun, and showed an intention of making a great attack on one spot.
Nigel knew that their own position was a strong one, and with the river swollen as it was by melting snows, that it was practically impossible for Gustavus to push home his attack, however heavy the fire of his artillery, without a bridge.
On the morrow when day broke the artillery on both sides began their clamour, and, although a few shots fell into the midst of the most forwardly placed regiments, the battle for hours was between artillery. The position chosen for his artillery by Gustavus showed at once the eye of the strategist, for the fire swept across the northern angle of the triangle, and in that area the fire was constant and appalling in its severity. If Tilly had chosen the post of posts for Nigel that offered the greatest number of chances of death, that was it. Nigel even thought that Father Lamormain's exhortations to get slain, if possible, were in a fair way to fulfilment. And to his surprise his two aides-de-camp, unaccustomed as they were, showed a noble rivalry in devotion. They dared the most hazardous risks, while they carried his orders to the different contingents, with an air of doing nothing notable which charmed Nigel, though it made him shake his head. For his own part he urged upon his artillery commander the greatest economy in his fire, to direct it with the greatest care upon one selected spot till he had put the enemy's guns to silence, and to reserve himself and his men as much as possible for theattempt to cross that would surely be made later in the day.
Then on the Swedish bank of the river a great smoke arose from fires of damp wood and straw. The wind blew it into Tilly's camp, where it mingled with the smoke of the artillery. It soon became difficult to see what was forward.
"The bridge!" said Nigel. "He is building a bridge!"
For long it was impossible to be sure where it was being begun. The noise of hammering was lost in the noise of the firing. The smoke belched forth for hundreds of yards along the river bank. The fire of Gustavus' ordnance continued, relentlessly pounding away upon all the batteries of Tilly within range, and being light, their position was changed from one half-hour to another as the Swedish officers thought fit.
"A bold swimmer might spy it out!" was the suggestion of one aide-de-camp.
Nigel had thought of it; but for a man to go into that icy and turbulent water was to meet certain death, even were he roped. He would be numbed before he could see anything, or shot by some of the Swedes, who doubtless lay securely along their higher bank.
A boat, a raft, anything that floated on the surface would be a mark. No! There was but one way, to wait till the bridge workers had advanced to mid-river and then shatter their handiwork. But with what engine? Nigel had discovered that the guns of the Swedes from their slightly higher elevation commanded all the available pieces of Count Tilly, raking the Imperial entrenchments with a desolating precision.
Yet a reply had to be made. Every officer that could be spared was busy encouraging the gunners to face the enemy and load their pieces, sponge, ladle in the powder, ram home the fresh charges, with the certainty that hereand there along the line a great ball would come, smashing backs and limbs, or terrifying the manhood out of their veins.
Again and yet again Nigel himself would snatch the rammer from a trembling wretch and ram home the charge: would point the gun, wedging it up to get the greater height needed. It was desperate work. And his two aides worked like him, shirking nothing.
A little change in the breeze and he saw where the Swedish engineers, working like men possessed, pushed out the bridge a few planks at a time, fastening them to pontoons which others rolled down to them. Now he knew his direction, and five of his guns were trained directly on to the growing bridge. But scarcely had they dropped their first hustling load of round-shot than a furious cannonade of the Swedes put the whole five out action. No gunners' bravery availed, or could avail. It was tempting useless slaughter.
Then Nigel led down files of musketeers from the entrenchment and disposed them along the banks to scare away the workers, but the enemy did likewise, and so harassed the musketeers that few of their shots reached a mark at all.
All along the banks on either side the battle raged in some sort. Mainly it was an affair of cannon-balls, but wherever musketry could be expected to make an impression Tilly ordered his men forward, exposing himself to the continual cannon fire. But everywhere the Swedes made the greater havoc, though the position, if resolutely defended, was still impregnable, and the Imperialists became more and more depressed.
The bridge crept out another yard. It could be seen how Gustavus was bringing up a fresh picked body of his veterans, Swedes all of them, calm, resolute, bearded men, bronzed and scarred with many a fight, ready for the rushacross that would herald the hand-to-hand fighting that would follow.
Nigel hated the suspense. He longed for the moment when he could lead down his musketeers and pikemen to the crash of the charge. And yet was it wise to wait? Could nothing be done?
A raft with twenty men upon it? Dare he? He named it to his aides. Dare? They would dare. They need not risk his life, more valuable than theirs. Here was greater fighting to be done. There was no taunting. But how skilfully they plied him too!
Up the river four hundred yards to give it greater impact they got some of the Bavarian woodmen to lash logs together and cross them with other logs, and three men from the banks of the Danube to guide the raft as well as they could and fend it off the banks with long poles. A small keg of powder and a hatchet apiece made the cargo for this short voyage. Except the polemen, the rest crouched low, holding by the ropes.
Nigel was there. He did not ask himself why he was there, risking his life, but what he would be able to do.
The river boiled and swirled. The logs creaked. The whole raft would have turned if it could, if it had not been for the frantic straining of the polemen.
The setting out of the voyagers was unnoticed amid so much din and turmoil, but they had scarcely fared half the way in less than a minute of time than musket-shot came scrambling among them. Two hundred yards more, a mere leap it looked along the water. They held their breath and braced their limbs for the shock. There was the half-built bridge. A crash! What a rending, and churning of the waters! They were upon it, the raft driven half upon it; of the raft's crew half of them were hurled into the river, the other half upon the bridge. Five of the bridge builders went down before them, twoof them to Nigel's sword. Then the keg of powder was staved in and set endwise under the planking and a match made ready. But the bridge builders were reinforced by twenty stout pikemen, who pushed on to the bridge head and thrust at Nigel's men with fury.
It was an unequal contest, for while five men engaged the enemy, the other five or six endeavoured to free the raft from the timbers of the bridge, and Nigel waited in the deadliest peril, firing the match.
The raft was wellnigh free, the water began to take hold of it again, twisting it determinedly, when the Swedes, checked for the moment by the stubbornness of the Imperialists, bore down their opponents. But Nigel had got the tarred rope well alight. "Now for your lives!" he said, and regardless of pike-thrust and musket-shot they flung themselves on to the raft and swept on, while the powder sullenly exploded, breaking loose a full half of the work completed, and blowing seven or eight stout pikemen into the waves.
For Nigel there was the rushing water, a volley of musketry, a sharp pain followed by a momentary sensation of falling into the stream, then nothing.
But night was drawing in, and Gustavus could not cross.
Nigelawoke to the jolting of an ox-waggon, over which was a rough covering. He was lying in his cloak on a truss of straw. Beside him sat one of his aides-de-camp, Captain von Grätz. But just now he looked strangely unlike a military man, and was reciting prayers, fingering a rosary which hung about his neck while he did so, with an earnestness that suggested that some one was on the point of death.
For a moment or two or three Nigel could not bring his mind to any clear understanding. The officer had a lantern. Outside, through the opening in the rough hood, was a blue sky and frosty-looking stars. Tramp! Tramp! The army was on the march. Whither and why? Heaven, what a pain! In his side, or was it in his shoulder? Nigel felt stiff for the most part, but the pain was sharp and not always in one place.
The aide-de-camp raised the lantern and looked at him, gave him a draught of some kind, which sent the blood circulating more warmly, and made his stiff limbs feel as if they were being teased by a thousand pricks. Then he said "Hush!" and went on praying till Nigel fell asleep.
In the morning they had reached Neuburg, and Nigelwas sufficiently himself to understand what had happened. Count Tilly had had his right leg shattered by a cannon-ball, and a man of seventy-three, tough even as Tilly, does not suffer such wounds with impunity. Altringer, his next in command, was dead. The Elector Maximilian, swayed by Tilly, had ordered a retreat from that wellnigh impregnable position. With nightfall the retreat had begun, to Neuburg first. Then it was to be Ingolstadt, where another stand would be made. Count Tilly was still alive. The next question Nigel put was for the other aide-de-camp. He had been drowned in the Lech. He had "died for the faith," as his comrade-in-arms said.
"You are a regular priest?"
The aide-de-camp inclined his head in token of assent.
"We obey orders!" he said softly.
"What is the matter with me?"
"You had a pike-thrust through your left shoulder, a musket-shot grazed your ribs, you were knocked unconscious from a blow from the raft as you fell into the water. The poleman just snatched you from the gates of heaven!" The Jesuit sighed as he said the last words. "As for myself, it is not time yet."
Nigel had no reply ready. He decided however that, as he did not feel any resentment against the poleman, he was not yet prepared for the end his companion, evidently in good faith, desired for him.
A night and a day at Neuburg and the army with its men and its waggons, its artillery, its swarms of camp-followers, passed on to Ingolstadt.
Count Tilly still lived, and while he lived Maximilian acted upon his advice.
"Defend Ingolstadt as long as possible. Throw troops forward into Ratisbon and hold that. Holding the two you hold the Danube!"
Other advice he gave, that all wounded and camp-followers should be sent forward to Ratisbon. Ingolstadt was strongly fortified and might turn the edge of Gustavus' sword if it contained nothing but fighting men. Ratisbon would be a safe refuge for a few weeks.
Nigel was carried into the presence of Count Tilly at Ingolstadt.
The old general, looking shrivelled, sunken, his eyes feverishly bright, lay in his bed. His hat with the red feather and his sword hung upon the wall.
He looked up and recognised Nigel.
"You too, boy?"
"Not badly!" said Nigel.
"Go on to Ratisbon! You'll be well enough to fight the Swede again in three weeks!" His voice faltered even in its weakness. He turned his head away a minute or two. Nigel knew what the old warrior was thinking, and could not find it in him to utter the worthless consolatory hopes that he might.
"ButIshall never fight again! The Swede has beaten me. I would that we had fought in the open and not cooped up behind trenches and rivers. Well! It is Wallenstein's chance now, and formenothing but the priest's viaticum. God be with you, boy!"
Nigel clasped his thin sword-hand with his own, and the young soldier of fortune looked into the eyes, the stern, sharp, wistful, wild eyes of the old soldier, who was doomed beyond possible help of army surgeon, and the old man knew that the young one held him for a brave man, who had been staunch to his profession, and loyal to the Emperor even to the death. There was more comfort in Nigel's eyes than in a thousand protestations from men who had never faced ball and pike-thrust on a hard-fought field.
Nigel gulped down something and whispered hoarsely—
"Good-bye, General. The Holy Saints help you!"
His orderlies carried him out, and two days afterwards Tilly died, the sound of Gustavus' cannon, without the walls of Ingolstadt, ringing in his ears.
Nigel reached Ratisbon in the train of the troops sent on to defend it. Every day he was under the ministrations of the Jesuit, who combined the art of the healer with that of spiritual director, as if he had never, sword in hand, hewn down Swedish pikemen on the bridge at the Lech. Every day made him gain something of ease. And once lodged in a comfortable upper room at Ratisbon he began to recover the usage of his legs.
But he was still far from the recovery of his full vigour, and spent most of the day looking from a window seat, his shoulders leaning against cushions because of his wounds, upon the passing trivialities of the street, while the aide-de-camp was out about his military duties.
It was while he was thus employed that his soldier servant announced, "A high-born lady visiting the sick, colonel!"
Wondering what new adventure this might be, he bade the soldier bring her up.
First came a sour-visaged dame, whom Nigel half recognised and then decided that he did not. Hard on her heels came one that brought a sudden flush into his pallor. It was the Archduchess Stephanie.
It was clearly as unexpected on her part. But with wonderful presence of mind she entreated him not to rise, and bade her maid set down her basket and wait below.
Then as the door closed she sprang to him.
"Nigel! My love, Nigel! In Ratisbon!"
She knelt at his side, and placing his arm about her neck laid her face against his, and crooned softly to him as she would have done to a babe.
And he could say little but press her dear hand closer to him and whisper "Stephanie! You too in Ratisbon!"
"We came, my brother Ferdinand and I, to strengthen the hands of the Elector Maximilian, so that he fell not into the sin of neutrality."
"You and Ferdinand?" There was a world of inquiry in his tone.
"Yes, Nigel! Ferdinand was to play the fisherman and I the bait." She sprang from him and dropped a stately curtsey, pulling her face straight, serene and wonderful to behold for any one, but to Nigel not the Queen of Sheba nor Zenobia of Palmyra would have seemed more wonderful.
"And I the bait!" she repeated and laughed.
"But Maximilian had hopelessly broken his neutrality by the time you arrived!" said Nigel.
"We could not know it till we came! And then I told the Elector what I had told him in any hazard, I would not wed him were he twenty times Elector and the Great Mogul besides. It is not in my blood or my humour."
Nigel's eyes spoke the admiration for her boldness that he felt.
"Then you have tricked the Emperor, and Father Lamormain, and flouted Maximilian——"
"To follow you, Tall Captain, or carry you off in my arms, or what shall I do? I had no certain knowledge you were here. I had learned that the camp had been broken up, that Tilly had retired to Ingolstadt, and when I heard that the wounded were sent on to Ratisbon I began my search, wondering how much of you I might find."
"It is naught!" said Nigel, getting up. "I have lost blood. I have a scratch in the ribs, a thrust of pike in my left shoulder, but they heal. A Jesuit is living withme, Captain von Grätz, salving me, preaching to me, and doing military duty too."
"Not a word to him! Father Lamormain suspects! I know not how much, but much!"
"You must plan, and I must plan!" said Nigel. "We are in a serious case. If we be not wedded in a little, wedded we two shall never be. It is too much to set the Emperor and the Elector at defiance and not expect reprisals. But if we be wedded, beloved Stephanie, we may even get off with a hair shirt and smock, saving your Highness, and exile to some remote castle in the Grisons."
Nigel was no screech-owl, nor in the way of seeing ill before it came except to prevent it, so his tone was gay; but there was doubt beneath.
"How did the Elector take it?" he went on.
"Faith, Nigel mine, but like as a pinch of sunshine peeps out between the gathering clouds and is now quite shut out, so he seemed to smile, but his brows were threatening black and his teeth gleamed a little.
"There is a touch of fantasy about the Wittelsbachers. Born in a lowlier station, Maximilian might have become a sad kind of troubadour, or a prophesying friar. Being a prince, he is capable of carrying out any wild imagining he might have to snatch me to him, or to wreak his disappointment."
"And we are in his hands here!" said Nigel.
"To-morrow, think you, Tall Captain, if I took the air on horseback without the walls, the Swede not yet being come up, that you could mount a charger and meet me by chance three leagues distance. If there were no guards out we might perchance slip further still and make our way——"
"To what port of shelter?"
"To Znaim! Sure Wallenstein would make you one ofhis new captains, and Znaim would be a veritable city of refuge!"
Nigel drew in his breath. "Stephanie, you have a godlike courage! To Wallenstein! And yet why not? He will want officers. Here I am on the list of the sick. There shall I be serving the Emperor! It is a bold plan, Stephanie, but we must venture all, or be forever cravens!"
"To-morrow! Nigel! Heaven send not the Swedes too soon to close the gates. At midday three leagues away by the road from the eastern gate!"
"And to-morrow if it see not our wedding shall see the eve of the bridal!" She took Nigel by both hands, dealing as tenderly as with any babe, and looked upon him with such a look of mystery and love and motherhood in her eyes as caught him up into heaven and left him entranced while one might count a hundred. Her look smote through his eyes and on to his very soul, and put her impress there as it had been the seal of the greatest Empire of all the world.
Then they kissed in solemn troth-plight, and the Archduchess went down the stair leaving the room a darkness, though it was still broad day.
Notfor the first time in his military life did Nigel feel lonely. In this town of Ratisbon he had many military comrades, but no friend who would be as a wall against which he could set his back when it came to the grim push of steel against a half-ring of foemen. In bonnie Scotland, had he sought to carry off a king's daughter, he could have raised a sturdy dare-all troop of kinsfolk, men of his blood and name, who would have broken down the West Port, scaled the crags of Edinburgh Castle, risking their necks and their lands in a desperate endeavour to win the guerdon for him of his heart's desire. And desperate though it might be, with the king's daughter willing, what Scottish noble would not have made the essay with a light heart? And here in Ratisbon was no one on whom he might rely for a stout arm and a reckless generosity of service.
A friend such as he needed, not to speak of ten friends, must be told everything. One cannot ask a friend to aid one in carrying off a king's daughter without telling him what the dangers are. Rapidly he told off the officers he knew in Ratisbon. All were in the pay of the Emperor or the Elector. At the mention of either the shoulders would go up, there would be long draughts of beer, a cloudof smoke, pursed-up brows, and "Not to be thought of, my friend!" They were trusty fellows for the most part, would not betray his confidence, but neither would they throw themselves whole-heartedly into an enterprise which, successful, would bring to some certain death, and to the rest a very intangible reward, and failing would involve all in equal ruin.
Then again there were the Jesuits. Which of his trusty friends might not be Jesuits, if not, like his remaining aide-de-camp, a regular priest in an officer's uniform, then an officer, drawing Jesuit pay as well as the Emperor's?
He thought of the Emperor with his proud, cold, supercilious face. There was as little reason for hope of forgiveness as there was hope of consent from him. From the Emperor he passed to Maximilian, the prince who should have been a Jesuit, as he was the foster-child of Jesuitism. Of a lineage as proud as that of the Habsburgs, of a renown for policy as for valour, ruler of some of the fairest provinces and greatest cities of the Empire, he would of a surety in his love be as relentless an adversary as fate. Men of his dark complexion take the malady of love not lightly. Least of all men, being who he was, would he be pitiful. Brook a rival, once disclosed to him, in a Scots mercenary, were he Wallace Wight himself? As well might the Danube cease to flow eastward, ever eastward. And behind, but peering between these two haughty and melancholy faces in Nigel's thought, was Father Lamormain's gentle, suave, and smiling countenance, from whose mouth had flowed persuasive speech that clothed the stern resolved marching orders of that sinister brotherhood in whom there was no shadow of turning. Into no conceivable scheme of Father Lamormain's could fit any idea of the marriage of Nigel with the Archduchess. He had shown himself favourable tothe Elector's suit. Nigel's service to the Emperor would not count for aught if he should stand in the way of the Jesuit advance.
Nigel looked out upon the clouds of peril. He might win through with the Archduchess, make her his wife, reach Wallenstein. So much was possible, keeping their own counsel, acting swiftly with one mind, one courage. As for Wallenstein, it was impossible to predict how he might receive them, as friends, as hostages, or with cold negatives that should say "it lies not with my interest."
Nigel Charteris gazed upon the clouds of peril, and gazed undaunted. He was in that uplifted mood into which a mighty love exalts the soul, so that from its peak of splendour it can look down upon the clouds below hurtling their lightnings and sending up dim reverberations of their embattled thunders. For one hour of ecstasy shared by Stephanie he would cheerfully meet the after-doom.
He heard a footstep on the stair, a heavy tread, and the clank of spurs. His reverie was dissipated like a bubble. What new thing was to happen?
"Blick!"
"Me! Colonel!"
It was Blick, big-shouldered, red-faced, bull-necked, smacking somewhat of beer and other liquors, soldierly Sergeant Blick.
"How in the name of——?" Nigel began.
"Sent out foraging from Ingolstadt, general! Got through the Swedish lines at night, waggons and all, but couldn't get back again. Met an infernal ambush of Swedes in a forest road. My men stood stoutly by me, and we gave a round dozen of them their 'fall out,' but what with their muskets and the trees it was no go. So we set spurs to our horses and made straight for Ratisbon. The devil was in it, for they got our waggons, a load ofhams and a few barrels of good Bavarian beer, a score of lean fowls——"
"Enough, Blick! I warrant you left nothing of meat and drink but what you could not carry off! So you came to Ratisbon, and found me out?"
"Yes, colonel! Ingolstadt will come tumbling down in a day or two at most, and then the Swedes will come here after the Elector, as some say, or be off to ransack Munich, where he keeps his treasures, as others say. And in faith I don't see what's to stay him, now poor old Tilly's dead!"
"Dead?"
"Aye! Died as Gustavus fired the first round of his cannon. He was a tough fighter, and his soldiers ever got leave to sack a town in their own way. No fine manners and milk and water about the old General with the Red Feather. Rest his soul!"
"Amen!" said Nigel devoutly, making the sign of the cross. "Now what are you going to do?"
"I've reported myself and men to the general in command of Ratisbon. He says, 'Wait till the army retreats from Ingolstadt and then join it.' Meantime I'm just looking after the horses and taking a ride to keep them in condition and get fodder for them, and there's mighty little in Ratisbon!"
Nigel smiled. He knew that Blick considered it a lamentable thing when he and his troop, not to mention the horses, did not get full rations, and that, if the regulations did not bring him and his to eat, he helped himself to the best with a very fair ability.
"If the Swedes are not upon us to-morrow, Blick, I want you to do me a service."
"How many troopers?"
"Two besides yourself, men you can trust, men who are good swordsmen, and see that your three horses are goodfor a long journey if need be. And above all a quiet tongue, Blick, for you are meddling in a strange business. If any trouble come of it to you, you may blame me, as you obeyed orders. Meet me at the Eastern Gate with my horse at eleven. You will find him at the stables of the 'Cloister Bell.'"
"Yes, colonel! Two men, your own horse. Swords and pistols, at eleven, Eastern Gate!"
Blick saluted cheerfully. He wondered what was in the wind, but it was in any case a pastime, and Nigel, though not a spendthrift, always paid well for his services.
When the aide-de-camp returned that evening Nigel said nothing of his visitors, merely that he felt almost well enough to adventure the saddle on the morrow, and should try a short ride. The Jesuit examined his wounds carefully, and said he thought a gentle ride would do him no harm. Nothing more was said upon that score, though they talked freely about the progress of the Swede at Ingolstadt.
"It is a hard fortress to take," said the Jesuit, "and it may well be that the Swede may waste much powder and many good men before its walls and then not take it. Every week he spends before it is a week gained for us!"
"How?" asked Nigel. "We are shut up here!"
"Wallenstein's army grows daily, I hear. It is wonderful the magic of his name. From all places men are hastening."
Nigel expressed great wonder. He was surprised that, at a time when the Emperor was at his wits' end for men, Wallenstein could find them from the ends of the earth. But he also wished the Jesuit to tell him more.
But the Jesuit said nothing of how he had heard the news. Only the shadow of a fear ran across Nigel's heartthat news went fro, as well as to, over great distances, through this wonderful chain of the brotherhood that served Father Lamormain. And he wondered whether this kindly, helpful aide-de-camp, who had practically set him on his legs again, would not with an equal kindliness conduct him to the strongest dungeon in the citadel if he received orders. He knew it would be so.
The next morning saw Nigel at the hour named at the east gate, saw his eager charger nuzzling in his shoulder for joy, saw him gather his reins and mount, and, followed by the escort, set out briskly, as a man should, to his trysting-place.
Tocover three leagues in an hour on such a horse as Nigel bestrode was no great affair.
It may have been a little more or a little less when Sergeant Blick, with his watchful eyes, descried that his former colonel was rapidly overtaking a little party that rode in the same direction. It consisted apparently of a lady habited in a riding-dress suitable for the winter, surmounted by a military-looking cloak, and a groom on another horse just behind.
As Sergeant Blick was a long way off when he saw so much, he did not even attempt to guess who she might be. There were many highly-born ladies in Ratisbon just at that time, though Blick did not know why.
He was not long before he noticed that Nigel rode up on the lady's right and saluted her, and that her movements were such as to suggest to an observer that the meeting was a chance rencontre and a surprise.
The groom, who, like themselves, carried pistols in his holsters, fell back and gradually took up a position not far in front of Sergeant Blick, but kept his horse trotting at a certain distance as if aware of the soldiers, and not willing to mingle with them.
But the colonel did not seem to have any intention ofleaving the lady to conclude her promenade alone. The two, in fact, rode quickly side by side, as if bent on reaching some still distant goal in company. And it was some time before it dawned upon Blick's mind that this had been a rendezvous, and that his former colonel had entered upon the first phase of the enterprise to which he had referred the night before.
Had Blick been a Frenchman instead of a German he would have sniffed out an affair of the heart as soon as he caught a glimpse of a petticoat, but Blick was a German soldier, who had begun to get grizzled, and was already weather-beaten and scarred, and cared a vast deal more for a good dinner and a jovial emptying of beer-mugs than for toying with wenches, and on the occasions when Cupid had asserted his rights of dominion over him, the manifestations of Sergeant Blick's possession had been uncouth and rough, and in nowise redolent of sentiment or of poetry. Nor had he ever observed any amorous tendencies in his former captain and colonel. He, on the contrary, had seemed to shun all such opportunities of dalliance as the fortune of war threw in his way, to care nothing, in fact, for women kind or unkind, only moderately for the more gratifying enjoyments of wine and meat, and prodigiously, for an officer, for clean muskets and well-sharpened pikes, or for well-groomed horses and bright swords. Sergeant Blick could not account for the change, and did not in his heart approve of it, the more that he could make no manner of guess who the lady was.
So he urged his horse a little more till he came alongside the groom, whom he saluted civilly enough and asked plumply who his mistress was, to which the groom replied with equal civility that she was the Countess Ottilie von Thüringen.
"Gott im Himmel!" said Sergeant Blick, and plied no more questions.
He remembered well the Countess Ottilie in the early episodes, and wondered the more. Then he gave up wondering, and remembered that he had not drunk for over two hours, an unprecedented thing for him, when not actually engaged on the stern duties of his vocation. Besides, the effort of thinking could only be borne by the aid of liquor.
"She was mixed up with those ... Lutherans! So she was!" said Blick to himself.
Blick's thirst found relief in time, for Nigel halted at the first convenient inn which promised passable entertainment in the town of Straubing, eight and a half leagues from the city of Ratisbon. He knew that no hostelry on the road to Znaim could in the nature of things produce a meal fit to set before this rare daughter of the Habsburgs. For her nothing could be too kingly, but as the best that could be got was coarse, he had perforce to trust to her love and a traveller's appetite.
They did well to find a hostelry which had another room than that used by the common wayfarers. Nigel bade Blick give his men and the groom a good meal, feed and water the horses sparingly, and have all ready in an hour.
Then they spoke of their immediate plans.
Having encountered no obstacles hitherto, they decided to push on and gain the furthest town they could before the hour of shutting gates. The Archduchess would lodge in the convent. The town they thought to reach was Passau, which possessed two convents as well as a number of churches of old name and fame, in one of which they had it in mind on the morrow to hear the priest pronounce over them the words "conjungo vos," by which they should become one till death.
"You are firm of purpose, Stephanie? There is still time to go back!" said Nigel solemnly, looking into her eyes.
"I am plighted, Nigel!" she replied with an equal seriousness. "Let us go on!"
They rose up from the table and went out, mounted and rode on to Plattling. And this time Nigel bade Blick and the troopers ride in front so that they might bring back word if any hindrance barred the road. For Nigel had noticed, and so had Blick, that the roads were patrolled by parties of the Elector's own bodyguard of horse, a circumstance which would have had no significance if they had been upon the road between Ratisbon and Ingolstadt, from which the Swedish troops might at any time arrive. Still, beyond a salute the Bavarian troopers gave no sign. The two rode on.
But as they neared Plattling and the bridge across the Isar by which they would reach the road to Passau, Sergeant Blick came back in haste and warned them that the passing of the bridge was forbidden by a strong party of cavalry in charge of an officer.
Nigel spurred his horse forward, and the Archduchess did the like. They were soon at the bridge.
The officer was unknown to Nigel, but they saluted with great ceremony. The officer saluted with still greater ceremony the Archduchess.
"My escort, captain, tells me you are unable to let us pass the bridge!" said Nigel.
"My instructions are that in sum!" said the officer.
"It would give us pleasure to hear them," said the Archduchess.
"As regards your Imperial Highness," said the officer, "my instructions were that, should you at any time desire to cross, I was to take care that you had an escort of at least fifty men and two officers. I can furnish them at once."
"And General Charteris?"
"His case comes under the second section. No officeror man of the Imperial army may cross the bridge except by the written order of the Elector, or unless he be carrying despatches to Vienna."
"For what reason is the second order?"
"To prevent desertions from the Elector and the Emperor's troops here to join Wallenstein's!"
"The Elector is very solicitous for our safety and your loyalty, General Charteris. It seems that we must need curtail our pleasurable excursion and return."
The officer looked confused. He had no wish to cross the whim of an Archduchess, but to disobey the Elector was worse. He bowed and made numerous apologies.
Force it was impossible to use. The bridge at Bogen, which was a mile or two to the eastward of Straubing, would be equally guarded. Reluctantly, but without appearance of reluctance, they turned their horses and went back. To Nigel it appeared to be pure mischance.
"No! Where the Jesuits are, dear Nigel, all is fore-thoughted. Our secret is known or guessed. This was the Elector's prevision!"
"Then we must hasten back before the gates close!" said Nigel, perturbed to the depths. "You must be able to say that you had ridden further in admiration of this beautiful country than you intended, and accepted my escort, not wishing to be incommoded by a train of attendants."
The Archduchess was full of foreboding.
"If we are only back in time my excuse will at all events bear an appearance of probability. But what are we to do next? You are not yet strong enough to take the field. Yet you may depend upon the Elector finding you some pressing duty out of Ratisbon, and he may urge that you were strong enough to ride with me."
"I must obey!" said Nigel. "But I could not leave you without putting our marriage beyond question. OnceHoly Church pronounces the blessed words 'conjungo vos,' Stephanie, nor Emperors nor Electors can dissolve the union."
"It shall be, Nigel! It shall be before midnight to-morrow. Leave the plan, the place, the time to me. I have learned some of the secret ways of Ratisbon. And if you be ordered to-morrow on some futile quest, you must use delay. Oh! dearest! I cannot help but fear, though I shall be cool in plan and firm in execution."
"Courage!" said Nigel stoutly. Though he felt something creeping over him which seemed to give his very voice the lie.
Presently as they interchanged some further words his voice sounded so hollow and feeble that her woman's ear caught the change.
"Nigel! What is it, Nigel?"
"I feel a faintness!" he said. "It will pass!"
"Thank the saints we are near Straubing! Let us walk our horses. It may be we can get wine and supper, and a posting carriage. Her accents betrayed the deep concern, the measureless pity the woman felt for the man she had chosen. Could they be those of the proud Archduchess? Even faintly as they reached his ears they brought the thought to his mind, and filled his soul with a strange ecstasy of strength, carrying on the action of his will, when will seemed to have no more to say.
They reached the Black Eagle of Straubing. Brandy and hot soup was served, and, once alone with him, the Archduchess stripped off his cloak, his tunic, and with a table-knife ripped open his shirt from his wounded shoulder, as she feared the wound had reopened with the toil of riding. Blick was sent for an apothecary, salve and bandages. Fortunately the man of drugs was to be found, and the wound washed and salved and bound upanew. The Archduchess paid him with a golden crown, bade him hold his peace for ever, and dismissed him.
Then Blick found post-horses and a carriage, and they set forth once more. Yet there was time, if the coachman and postboys did their best, and the promise of gold was tempting.
As the carriage bounded and rumbled along the starlit road, Stephanie took her lover's head upon her soft shoulder, putting her arm about him and drawing him to her as a mother does her child, and kissed him softly, tenderly, as a mother does, and Nigel fell into a deep, peaceful slumber, his last murmur being her name—"Stephanie."
Very peacefully he slept, despite the rumbling and swaying of the carriage, and the Archduchess, satisfied that his breathing was natural, gave herself up to the maturing of her plan, listening now and then to the clattering of the hoofs of their attendants' horses upon the hard road not far behind. At the rate they had travelled she decided that there was yet time to spare. She feared the Elector not at all, her brother Ferdinand about as much, as far as her own self was concerned. But she feared immeasurably for Nigel. The thought that she must be parted from him almost inevitably, directly they had pledged their mutual marriage vows, crushed her with a leaden weight.
They stopped somewhere. She could not guess. The horses were steaming with their exertions. Men threw cloths over them while they rested in their traces. Then they resumed the journey, and presently Nigel awoke, ashamed that he had slept, but with strength of mind and body renewed.
They reached a little village called Obertraubling, two leagues short of Ratisbon.
The carriage stopped. Nigel sprang out. It was ofno use, the postboy said. One horse had gone lame. He could kill the horse by thrashing him, but to get to Ratisbon with the carriage was impossible in the time. He had done his best. Neither Blick nor his troopers nor his groom had come up. Nigel went from one poor house and inn to another in search of one or two fresh horses. Not a horse was to be found.
"No one had a horse if not Farmer Grabstein, the last house in the village."
Postboy and coachman led the stumbling horses along to the house of Farmer Grabstein. No one was about. Nigel knocked at the door and it yielded. There was a fire upon the hearth. There was food of a rough sort upon the table. There were even candles hanging from a beam. He lit one at the embers and stuck it in a candlestick. Then he went back to the carriage and bade Stephanie alight.
She came into the farmhouse and sat down on a bench in the fireplace to warm herself while Nigel made a search. Downstairs there was no one. Upstairs (it was a rough wooden stair, steep as a ladder) were garrets under the thatch. Rolled up in undistinguishable bundles appeared to be some human beings. The air was fetid with their breath and their personal exhalations. Was it worth while to wake them? At all events the Archduchess could not go up that stair.
Then he bade the men put their horses in the stable and sleep there beside them. It would at least be warm.
"Stephanie! My beloved! There is no help for it but wait here till Blick comes up. Then he must get into Ratisbon and bring out horses by hook or by crook! The night is yet young. Our plans have gone dismally awry. Yet I would not have it different if it were not for the tongue of rumour that will even now be busy in Ratisbon!"
She knew well what he meant. The honour of the Emperor's daughter would be besmirched, despite anything that might be said or done or attested: and were it but one day's stain, that stain should not lie between her and the husband she had chosen.
"Show me the place!" she said with a touch of her old hauteur. Nigel took the candle and preceded her. There was yet another room on this floor, an apartment hung with leather, and having a good chest or two of carved work, an oaken table and some chairs: the farmer's state-room, doubtless used on high occasions.
"Here will I abide! Go you, Tall Captain, and fetch me some old dame from the village, so she be clean and not smelling of the cow-byre more than ordinary, and bid her bring a blanket or two."
Nigel went off into the dark again. But she without loss of a moment examined the room and found a door which led into an outermost room, where guns, boots, powder-flasks, and other utensils of the chase hung, and beyond was a great door bolted and barred. This she undid, though it taxed her strength, and found that it opened on to the stable-yard. That she crossed and entered the stable, roused one of the men and bade him rub down the soundest of the horses, feed and water it, and then strap on a saddle she had found in the gun-room, in one hour's time. He would be awakened if necessary. She would ride to Ratisbon. Neither his mate nor any one else was to know. The present of a gold crown made him promise mountains and marvels. She returned to their kitchen and awaited Nigel by the fire.
Inone of the old burgher palaces of Ratisbon, then the dwelling of Nicholas Kraft, whose guest he was, the Elector Maximilian held a reception after supper each evening in the manner of the French monarch. At these the ladies and gentlemen of his own household, Ferdinand the Archduke and his sister the Archduchess, with their suite, were expected to attend, together with some of the great burghers and their wives, who, whether they possessed patents of nobility or not, were in point of wealth and culture noble, and had the right of entry. The ruling classes of the great free cities had long been accustomed to exchange courtesies on something like equal terms with the princes and nobles who happened to be within their gates, but not to exhibit any undue servility in their regard. Maximilian fully understood this. In Munich, his capital city, there would be differences, but Ratisbon was Ratisbon. Ferdinand the Archduke held himself much aloof. As the son of the Emperor, and possibly his successor, if the Electors should again choose a Habsburg, he possessed much of the Habsburg pride of demeanour and tendency to self-isolation.
The guests had not all assembled. Maximilian himself, though talking affably with the principal burghers, thefew officers present, or some of the ladies, looked gloomy. Indeed he had much to occupy his mind. The latest advices from Ingolstadt told that the fortress town still held out stoutly, and was still closely beset by Gustavus. Of movement towards Ratisbon there were rumours enough, but Maximilian was being well served with information, and these rumours did not trouble him so much as they did the burghers. As in all the great free cities, there was a party favouring Gustavus, another favouring the Emperor, a third whose one desire was to maintain an exact neutrality. All wished the war was at an end, because it interfered wofully with trade.
"I had thought to have seen the Archduchess here to-night!" said Maximilian to the brother of the absent lady.
"In truth," said Ferdinand, "I cannot tell. She is accustomed to follow her whims. I learned that she went out riding to-day. It may be that she is late in returning, and is even now at supper."
Maximilian smiled sombrely and made some polite and meaningless reply, but his manner suggested that he was not at his ease.
"At what hour, Burgomaster, do you close the city gates?" Maximilian asked of his next fellow-guest.
"At eight, your Highness!"
"And the keys?"
"Are brought to my house, your Highness!"
"Ah! Very salutary! You have all things well-ordered in Ratisbon."
"Your Highness is good enough to commend us. Nevertheless, there are many things that may well be improved."
An hour slipped by. Some of the party playedtruc, somescat. In a corner some musicians discoursed on viols and lutes and a clavier. The Archduke grewimpatient and sent a page to the lodging of the Archduchess, bidding her attendance. An answer came back that she was indisposed, but that, if the Elector wished to see her particularly, she would endeavour to throw off her migraine and come.
The Archduke sent a still more peremptory message. Maximilian looked still more sombre.
This time he stopped to speak to an officer who had just come in. They stood apart.
"The gates are shut?" was Maximilian's inquiry.
"Yes, your Highness!"
"Has the Archduchess in fact returned?"
"No, your Highness!"
"Have you had any message?"
"Her coach broke down at Obertraubling, three leagues from Ratisbon! She is spending the night at a farmhouse!"
"Alone?" There was a perceptible quiver in his voice.
"The Scottish officer, General Charteris, is with her!"
"Ah! He has recovered from his wounds?"
"I should have thought not! I have been doing my best, your Highness. Two days ago he was too weak to mount a horse. But the eyes of an Archduchess, your Highness, are a very potent salve!"
Again the Elector frowned.
"Can you make anything of this escapade?"
The Jesuit returned the look in the Elector's eyes. Each seemed to search the other's.
"Whatever it was meant to be it has been frustrated, and your Highness will find her submissive enough to-morrow."
"But if she has given herself...."
"Your Highness need not fear. She has but walked into one mouse-trap and the Scot into another."
Maximilian simply grumbled a dissatisfied "H'm!"His knowledge of the Jesuits and their deep schemes was tempered by an insatiable jealousy where the Archduchess was concerned, and a knowledge of the wiles of women, which he deemed must be superior to that of any Jesuit but one, that one being Father Lamormain.
"It is time to apprise the Archduke Ferdinand that he is being fooled by her women." Then he left the Jesuit abruptly and crossed over to Ferdinand.
"Our dear Stephanie will not, I fear, be here to-night!"
"Why not, cousin?" was Ferdinand's somewhat petulant query. He was not at all gratified at having come to Ratisbon, only to find that Maximilian was once again defeated. He would almost have preferred him to have taken up the position of the neutral. He was angry with the Archduchess for her persistent opposition to his father's wish for the match with Maximilian: annoyed with Maximilian for his continual fidgeting about her absence, to which Ferdinand attached no importance.
"Because she is not in Ratisbon!"
"But I have had messages from her!"
"From her women, who are doubtless in league to deceive you!"
Ferdinand looked much that he did not utter.
He looked at the clock that stood in one corner of the apartment.
"Ten o'clock, and not returned. You must lend me a troop of your hussars to scour the roads!"
"With pleasure! But I beg that you will use discretion. The name of a princess that will one day be Electress of Bavaria may not be lightly bandied. May I suggest Captain von Grätz?"
"As you will, cousin!"
They had just signed to the Jesuit when the door opened, and the servants announced—
"Her Imperial Highness, the Archduchess Stephanie!"
The faces of the three men turned towards the door in amazement and expectation.
It was the Archduchess. She came clad in amber silk, heavy with the richest embroidered work of raised flowers, a high stiff collar, her round neck and swelling bosom bare, save for the velvet of darker hue than the stuff which framed them, and a necklace of rare pearls. Her train was upheld by two of the fairest dames of her company, and these and two others and two pages were all attired as richly, yet served as a foil nevertheless to her supreme dark beauty. In her eyes was the lurking light of laughter, though her lip had more than usual of its proud upward curl. Her eyes danced as with her quick gaze they lit upon the three astounded faces of her suitor, her brother, and the officer they called von Grätz.
Nicholas Kraft and his wife hastened forward and bent the knee before her. To them all graciousness she said—
"It is to seem an unwilling guest to arrive at your hospitable house so late, but you must please excuse me for the chapter of accidents that has done nothing but beset me this day."
The Elector strode forward, his eyes roving over her as if they would devour her, for he ever found fresh enchantment and delight in her beauty, fain though he was not to betray himself too much.
The Archduke followed, but not too eagerly. Captain von Grätz alone remained where he was, prey to a hundred vexations, but showing nothing in his calm face.
"So eager yet, cousin Maximilian!"
"Say rather anxious, dear Stephanie! I have done my best to have the roads patrolled, but I fear your horse or your escort must have been indifferent that you have been so delayed."
"I am afraid it was my own fault, cousin, that I went too far and forgot that my Scottish gentleman equerry for the day was but lately wounded in your service and could ill bear the saddle. As it is, I have left him behind me, and I fear that he will be but a fit subject for his bed for some days to come! How triumphantly your music sounds!"
"It should ring twice as bravely from thrice as many trumpets as we have viols, would you but give me leave, Stephanie, and bid me don a bridal suit. You are vastly goddess-like to-night?"
"Because I am happy, despite the war that makes you all so gloomy!"
"If I could think your happiness was in being here in Ratisbon with me, then should not war last a week. I would even make terms and bid Gustavus to our nuptials."
"And sacrifice the future of Wallenstein?" she asked with a pretty malice.
"Why? What of Wallenstein?"
"Wallenstein's army grows greater every day!"
"'Tis well! We could make the better bargain with Gustavus."
"And the Emperor?"
"Would console himself for the loss of glory in finding a son-in-law who would adventure the care of his rebellious Stephanie."
The Elector's brow had cleared. He was enraptured to find her in so winning a mood that he proposed a pavane. And in a few minutes dancing was the order of the evening.
The Jesuit watched and noticed how the Elector surrendered to his passion, confident at last that he had virtually won the hand of the princess. At last he left the court circle alone and quietly, and went to the lodginghe shared with Nigel. There another surprise awaited him, for Nigel lay asleep in his bed. The Jesuit examined the bandages, saw that they had been freshly put on, and that tied in the final knot was a single long black hair.
Itwas as the clock at the cathedral boomed out eight on the next night but one that the old abbey church of St Jacob, which by some is called the Scots church, by reason that the Benedictines to whom it once belonged were mostly of Scottish or Irish parentage, was dimly lit as to a chapel on the left side of the choir.
Nigel groped his way up the nave towards it. Another shadow crept out of the darkness of a side door on the northern side, and as it came into the dim circle of light from the single swinging lamp depending from the arch of the chapel, Nigel made out that it was a woman, and that woman the Archduchess Stephanie.
They exchanged a whispered greeting and knelt down together upon the cushion prepared for them upon the threshold of the chapel. Two men entered by the door of the nave, cloaked, booted, and spurred, as was Nigel, and strode with firm steps up towards the same chapel, and halting sat down upon the nearest seat. They had doffed their hats as they entered, hats with long plumes, and the cloaks did not altogether conceal the steel gorgets which they wore, for the light, dim though it was, caught them. Their stern war-worn faces looked steadily towards the chapel.
From the small door beside the chapel came a priest and his acolyte, a choir boy.
Rapidly the priest read through a short homily in an accent, though the words were German, which betrayed an original acquaintance with the country from which Nigel sprang.
Then he proceeded with more deliberation to recite the marriage service and to ask the questions and to prompt the replies which are therein set forth.
Low and prompt and firm came the answers from Nigel. Low and musical, though not without some tremor in her utterance, came the responses from the Archduchess Stephanie.
Then came the moment of intense solemnity when the priest placed the ring upon her finger with the words, "Conjungo vos," and an irrepressible sigh came from her, the sigh of relief after a suspense not so long as profound. Still they knelt, and the priest began to celebrate the sacrament of the Mass preparatory to giving the two souls before him the blessing of Holy Church.
The two knelt oblivious to everything but the presence of one another, and their ears strained not to lose any of the precious words which fell from the priest's lips—words long familiar, sanctified in themselves, sanctified further by long usage, thrice holy in being uttered on this most solemn occasion in their lives.
But while they knelt a procession of shadows seemed to the two onlookers to come into the church, stealthily and slowly, and the two looking round as stealthily, saw that a portion of the nave, and of the side aisles, was being filled. Very quietly one of the two men departed by the door by which the Archduchess had come. He was there one instant, the next he had melted into the shadow.
The mass went on. The acolyte did his office. The priest his. Not a falter came into his voice. He seemedeven more absorbed in his office than his two kneeling listeners.
Scarcely had he pronounced his final benediction, to which the now solitary onlooker added a deep-toned "Amen," than all four, Nigel and his Archduchess just risen from their knees, the solitary onlooker, and the priest, were startled by the sound of a trumpet, and in a trice the church seemed to be filled with lighted torches.
The light fell upon a noble assemblage, which moved forward to the open space before the choir.
In the forefront were the Elector Maximilian and the Archduke Ferdinand. Behind them came the principal officers of their suite and of the garrison.
Upon the faces of the Elector and of the Archduke sat stern determination. Upon the others, more or less attuned to those of their masters, sat a natural wonder, and on some something of dismay. They had been bidden. They had come. They could only wonder what reason could bring the Elector and his guest to the St Jacob's church at such a time.
Round about stood a guard of perhaps fifty men of the Elector's bodyguard, bearing torches and arms.
As the facts gradually displaced the first natural burst of astonishment in the mind of Nigel and the Archduchess, they drew involuntarily closer together, and the priest preceding them with the paten still in his hand they approached the Elector.
The priest said in a loud clear voice—
"Be it known to your Highnesses and all men and all women that the Archduchess Stephanie has this day espoused Nigel Charteris of Pencaitland and has become his wife. They are now man and wife according to the ordinance and the blessing of Holy Church. Let no man seek to separate them on pain of the loss of his eternal salvation. Amen."
"Good Father," said the Elector, "you have now done your office. We also, as representing the Emperor, the faithful son of the Church, do pronounce that, insomuch as the Archduchess has taken upon herself to marry in direct disobedience to her father's wishes, she is hereby cast out from his family, and from all the rights and privileges of her birth, and henceforth will enjoy neither princely rank nor any fortune except such as she may still hold according to the law as a private person."
"And now," said the Archduke Ferdinand, "insomuch as General Nigel Charteris, being a trusted officer of the Emperor, has endeavoured to desert, carrying with him the daughter of the Emperor and our sister, in which he has committed two heinous crimes against the Emperor's majesty, he will be immediately arrested and tried by a court-martial for the first crime, and by ourselves for the second. Of the issue there can be no doubt."
"I deny, your Highness," said Nigel in a loud firm voice, "that I ever had the intention of deserting the Emperor's service. Nor have your Highnesses any evidence of such intention. My services are a complete answer to the charge.
"As to marrying the Archduchess Stephanie, I am a Scottish gentleman whose forebears are of as old and gentle a race as your own. I admit the right of no man, be he called Elector or Emperor, to say me nay."
"Arrest him!" said the Archduke.
"You must reach him through my body!" said the Archduchess, throwing herself in front of Nigel.
"You had best bid your lover good-bye, and waste no words!" said the Elector grimly, and motioned the captain of the guard to come forward.
"Halt!" rang out a grim harsh voice, which resounded strangely through the domes and hollows of the church.
And the solitary onlooker of the two, who had witnessedthe marriage, strode into the ring of light, fronting the Elector.
"I am Sir John Hepburn of the Scots Brigade, serving Gustavus of Sweden!"
The Elector scanned his lineaments. The Archduke had never seen this renowned leader in the field as the Elector had, and was inclined to doubt.
"You are a bold knight to place yourself in the hands of your enemies like this!" said the Elector. "The age of chivalry is past, if it ever was! What have you to say?"
"But this, your Highness! I crave nothing. The lands of Charteris and the lands of Hepburn in broad Scotland march together. We fight on different sides, but we do not forget for all that and all that, that we are brother Scots the world o'er. I came here to witness the wedding of Nigel Charteris to Stephanie of Habsburg. I have seen it and shall return to Gustavus."
"We shall not hinder you, Sir John Hepburn," said the Elector. "The men of your nation have strange customs, and it may be this is one of them to penetrate into the enemy's camp to carry out a domestic rite. You are free to go as you have come!"
"Free to go!" The voice rang out like a gusty clarion. "Look around you! It is for us to do as we will. You are all prisoners, every one of you."
Involuntarily Elector, Archduke, officers, gentlemen, and ladies turned their heads apprehensively.
Out of the semi-darkness beyond the ring of the torches gleamed rough-bearded faces and the glint of a hundred claymores. Nay there were two hundred, three hundred. The effect of the darkness was doubtless to add a mystery to what they saw.
An officer sprang towards the door to raise the alarm. It was useless. The hilt of a sword knocked him senseless upon the stones.
"Do you see my warrant? Aye! I know well you do. What I undertake I carry out. Here and now deliver Nigel Charteris his safe-conduct to join Wallenstein, and I wager he will yet do the Emperor more service than he has yet done, though I would fain he was upon our side instead of against us. Come, your Highness! To the sacristy and sign the priest's book and a safe-conduct. Swallow your arrests and your court-martial! As for the Archduchess, she will after her man or she is no true woman."
The Elector and the Archduke exchanged looks. Their guard was hopelessly outnumbered, and it was clear that Sir John Hepburn held them in the hollow of his hand.
"If the Scots are like you, Sir John Hepburn!" said the Archduchess, holding out her hand, which the Scots leader bowed over and kissed in courtly fashion, "I am glad to marry a Scot. Next to my husband shall I rank you as the first of my friends."
"Aye, madame, and yonder Sir Archibald Ruthven as the second, for he it was who brought up our little army. Now let us sign!"
He motioned to the Elector and the Archduke.
The priest led the way to the sacristy, and there, willy-nilly, Maximilian of Bavaria and the Archduke Ferdinand wrote their names as present at the marriage of Nigel Charteris and the Archduchess Stephanie of Habsburg, and then, to Sir John's dictation, inscribed on parchment a full safe-conduct which, if words could do it, granted safety to the newly-wedded pair from all reprisals or attacks from Imperial troops or officers, so long as Nigel Charteris remained in the Emperor's service, and permitted his safe departure from Germany whensoever that service should end.
Then at the doors of the church, when they were at length thrown open, were found a coach and four horses,and an escort of horse, at the head of which was the doughty Sergeant Blick, waiting to conduct their beloved colonel upon the first stage of his journey.