THE ADVENTURES OF HARRY ROCHESTER (continued 7)

"That's double pay," he thought.

But still he hesitated. No man cares to look a fool, and he would certainly look very foolish if his imagination proved to have run away with him. But what is that? A slight creak on the stairs, then another. Now a faint rustle outside the door. Holding his breath he listens. Yes, the supposed cupboard door is being opened; a moment, then he hears the faint but unmistakable creak of footsteps on the crazy stairs leading to the attic. He hesitates no longer. In two minutes at the most the intruders will have come through the trap-door into the room. Throwing one leg over the window-sill, he grasps his rope with one hand and the sill with the other; over goes the other leg, and now he is hanging by the frail rope. He feels the soft material yield to his weight; it is stretched to its full extent; it holds! He needs it for only a few feet. Down he glides: his feet touch the slates of the outhouse; now he is in full view from the copse save that a chimney-stack on the roof throws a black shadow all around him. Will he escape notice? Keeping the chimney between him and the copse he crawls slowly over the slates and finds as he had hoped that the rain-water pipe is out of sight. He slips over, grasps the pipe, and is half-way down when there is a noise in the room above; and as his feet at last touch the ground he sees two faces at the open window and hears loud shouts.

He had already resolved on a risky experiment; it appeared his only chance of escape. He had noticed that the country around, though hilly, was bare of vegetation except about the inn, where trees had been planted to tempt wayfarers. He knew that as soon as he got away from the buildings his figure would be seen in the bright moonbeams, and he was bound to be ridden down. The shouts from the window might be expected for the moment to hold the attention of the man on the watch. Relying on this, Harry darted across the road in the shadow of the outbuildings and dived into the copse some twenty or thirty yards from the place where the men had entered with the horses. Bending low, moving rapidly, yet with all possible caution, among the trees, he bore to the left towards the single watcher, whom he could now hear on the road shouting in answer to the men in the house. Harry could not distinguish their words, but judged from the vehemence of their tone and his own consciousness of his design that they were bawling to the sentinel to return to the horses he had left. It was a question which should reach them first. The copse was almost dark; a glint of light from the moon filtered through the foliage here and there. Running in his stockings Harry made no noise; but he could already hear the heavy trampling of the man as he plunged through the trees somewhere to his left.

Suddenly he came to a narrow clearing; on the other side he saw the horses tethered to the trees. Keeping just within the edge of the copse he ran round at his utmost speed towards the animals, and just before he reached them saw that their guardian had arrived at the end of the clearing nearest to the road and had stopped in the attitude of listening. There was much hubbub from the direction of the inn, and by the sounds Harry knew that several men were crossing the road towards the copse. The horses were between him and the solitary sentinel. Coming to the nearest, he cast off its bridle, then, vaulting to the saddle, he drew his sword and cut the bridles of the others, which were standing head to head, loosely attached to the projecting branch of a small tree. The man gave a shout and rushed forward when he saw Harry on the horse. It was a moment for quick decision. Smartly hitting the four intervening horses with the flat of his sword, Harry set them scampering through the edge of the copse. The man could not evade them, and in a moment he was knocked down. Harry meanwhile, trusting to the darkness, followed on the heels of two horses which were heading through the clearing towards the inn. At the outer edge of the copse he was encountered by two men who attempted to catch his rein. Toppling one over and cutting at the other he gained the highway; then set his borrowed steed to a gallop and rode on towards Urach. "A near shave!" he thought. He stopped a few hundred yards from the walls to put on his boots, then rode up to the gate.

It was shut, and he had some difficulty in rousing the gatekeeper. When the man came at length to his summons, he refused point-blank to allow the rider to enter.

"I can't wait," cried Harry. "Seek the officer of the watch; I'll not answer for what may happen if you delay me."

The gatekeeper went away grumbling and returned with the lieutenant of the town guard, who held a pistol and asked Harry's business.

"I am on a mission for my lord Marlborough," said Harry. "This letter from his Excellency Count Wratislaw will satisfy you."

The officer tried to read the letter by the light of the moon, but finding this impossible, waited until the gate-keeper had lit his horn lantern. Then, having read the letter, he ordered the man to open the gate.

"Will you ride farther to-night, Monsieur?" he asked.

"No, I am dog tired," replied Harry. "Will you direct me to a lodging?"

"Permit me to offer you the hospitality of my own quarters. The inns are all closed, of course; you are a very late traveller, Monsieur."

"Yes, I have been somewhat delayed on the road. If you will give me sleeping quarters for a few hours I shall be obliged to you."

In less than a quarter of an hour he was fast asleep. At four he was wakened, according to instructions given before he turned in. Stiff and sore as he was, he meant to ride on at once, for the sooner his mission was completed the sooner would he have the opportunity of seeking an explanation with the innkeeper, which he promised himself should be a thorough one. The lieutenant of the guard, a pleasant fellow, had a light breakfast ready, and was eager to give information about the road. From him Harry learnt that the highway to Biberach would lead through the lines of Prince Louis of Baden. Though he had no instructions to avoid the prince's army, he thought it very probable that he would best serve the duke by preventing gossip. So, finding that by diverging somewhat to the right and taking the road by Riedlingen he would pass outside Prince Louis's lines and lose little time, he decided to adopt this course. Thanking his entertainer, and promising to call on him on the way back, he set off on his ride. Not a word had he said about his adventure at the inn. It would be time to deal with that when his duty was done.

Harry rode a hundred miles that day, reaching the town of Immenstadt in the evening. He met with no adventure on the way; he found ready service at the inns at which he stopped to change horses, rest, and eat. But at the day's end he felt all but worn out. The sun had shone brilliantly, scorching his face, neck, and hands, and causing much discomfort to his horses. They suffered, however, less than he, for while the steeds were changed at short stages, the rider was always the same. He got some little relief by walking up the steepest hills along the road. His physical state and his preoccupation made him oblivious of the scenes through which he passed; afterwards he had but the vaguest recollections of hill ridges, bosky dells, blue lakes, and dark masses of rock, with a miry road winding among them, and here and there inns where he was thankful to rest awhile.

He slept that night at Immenstadt, rose reluctantly early next morning, and started for what he hoped was the last stage of his journey. About ten o'clock he arrived at the little village of Obermiemingen. As he rode in, he noted signs of excitement in the street. The whole population seemed to be gathered about the inn. At the door stood a heavy travelling coach with four horses, two of them saddled for postilions. His arrival diverted the attention of some of the peasants to himself, and they parted to make way for him. Dismounting stiffly he went to the inn-door and called for the host. After some time a servant came to him and explained that mine host was engaged at that moment with his Excellency Prince Eugene of Savoy, who had driven up shortly before attended by two officers and thirty troopers.

"Then I am in luck's way," said Harry. "I have a letter to his Excellency: conduct me to his room."

Two minutes later he found himself in the presence of the renowned soldier: the man who, mocked at in the French court as the "little abbé" and refused employment by King Louis, had ever since lived for nothing else but to prove himself a thorn in that monarch's side. He was of somewhat less than the middle height, dark-complexioned, with refined though not small features, and large flashing eyes. Harry presented his letter; the prince having read it, laughed and said:

"My lord Marlborough is anxious, Monsieur. But a few hours ago I received a message from him—dated several days back, it is true: you have had better fortune than the first messenger. The letter was brought to me at Innsprück by a farmer from the Swabian Alb; the courier, an officer of my lord Marlborough, had fallen from his horse, it appears, and being conveyed to a cottage the children had made free with his wallet while he himself lay insensible and their elders were attending upon him. For myself, I suspect it was the elders who were curious. But the letter contained no more than this one you have brought, so their curiosity reaped but little gratification.—Now, are you to carry my answer to my lord?"

"If your Excellency wishes," said Harry, "but my lord duke told me I might use another hand if I were fatigued."

"And that you certainly are. You must have come at great speed, and I will not tax you further. Very well. I am proceeding to Immenstadt; there I shall await a communication from Vienna, and then go directly forward to my meeting with the duke. I will acquaint him of my design by a messenger of my own. Pray refresh yourself now, Monsieur."

In a few minutes the prince drove off with his escort, and Harry enjoyed a sort of reflected importance. He was given the best the inn could afford, and provided, after some delay and difficulty—his request was almost incomprehensible to the landlord—with the luxury of a bath. He remained in Obermiemingen until the heat of the day had spent itself, then cantered easily back to Immenstadt, where for the first time for many days he slept the round of the clock. Reporting himself to Prince Eugene next morning, he learnt that the expected messenger from Vienna had not yet arrived, and having nothing to detain him there he started on the road back. There was no need for hurry; that day he rode seventy miles, to Riedlingen; then next morning he went on to Urach, where he at once looked up the amiable lieutenant of the guard who had treated him so well on his way through.

"You are back then, Monsieur?" said the lieutenant, greeting him heartily. "I did not tell you before, but the truth is I was not at all sure you would reach your destination safely."

"And you didn't wish to frighten me! But why, Monsieur?"

"There are bands of marauders in the hills; deserters, broken men, and what not, ready to snap up any unsuspecting traveller who promises to be worth it. They have done much damage in the neighbourhood, robbing and plundering undefended farms and hamlets, and though we are strong enough here to beat them off we cannot risk an expedition against them, and Prince Louis of Baden is too much occupied, I suppose, to give any heed to our requests for assistance."

"Well, Monsieur," said Harry, "I was not ignorant of what you have told me. And indeed I want to ask your help in a matter not unconnected with it. Two messengers from my lord Marlborough's army have disappeared somewhere in these parts; I think I have a clue to their fate, and wish to follow it up. Can you procure me the services of a stout, sensible fellow to ride with me?—a man thoroughly to be depended on, and one who will face danger if need be."

"I know the very man," said the officer instantly; "one Max Berens, who was servant to a French officer until the beginning of the war, but, refusing to fight against his own people, is now out of employment. He is a young fellow, strong, honest, intelligent; I know him well. I will send for him."

Harry liked the look of Max Berens when he appeared. He reminded him not a little of Sherebiah, of whom he might have been a younger and a slighter copy. Max readily accepted Harry's offer of a week's service, and promised to be ready with horses at seven o'clock that same evening.

At that hour the two rode north towards the wayside inn. On the way Harry asked Max if he knew anything of the landlord.

"Little enough, Monsieur. He's a sly fellow, and demands high prices; but there, the same could be said of any innkeeper."

As they drew near the inn they made a detour, and, entering the copse from the farther side, tied up their horses and came through the trees. Dusk had already fallen, and as the sky was overcast the evening was blacker than is usual at the time of year. The inn was in darkness except for a light in the kitchen. Followed by Max, Harry emerged from the copse, crossed the road, and rapped smartly on the closed door. It was opened almost immediately by the landlord himself, who, seeing two men on foot, and not recognizing Harry in the darkness, said:

"Come in, gentlemen. What are your commands? I will bring a light in a moment."

Returning with a candle, he now saw who the first of his visitors was, and looked very uncomfortable.

"I have very little in the house, Excellency——" he began deprecatingly. Harry cut him short.

"Pray don't be distressed. I left hurriedly—you remember me, landlord?—and we have a little reckoning to make together. It need not take long.—Max, stand at the door, and see that our good host and I are not disturbed.—Now, landlord, we will have a little talk." The kitchen door was open and the room empty. "This will do quite well; I repeat, we shall not remain long."

The man looked relieved, Harry thought; but he said nothing, merely brushing a chair for his visitor. Harry sat down, removed his hat, and leant back, stretching his legs for comfort after his ride.

"Yes, landlord, I left your house somewhat hurriedly, I fear, and at an unseemly hour."

The man shot a quick glance at him; but, having now had time to collect his wits, assumed an air of friendly concern, and began to speak with great volubility.

"The noble Herr had indeed a miraculous escape. Your excellency will remember—I told you of the marauders. They are dangerous knaves; they stick at nothing; only the other day they sacked and burnt a farmhouse in the hills, and killed all the inmates—man, wife, three children, and a dozen servants. Glad indeed was I to find that your excellency had eluded them. They must have spied upon your coming; yes, dangerous villains, I say. We should have had troops to protect us, but his highness Prince Louis—whom God defend!—cannot spare a man, it is said, so hard is he pressed by the French; and we poor Swabians are at the mercy of these robbers, the offscourings of all the armies. Ah, your excellency, these are bad times for us poor folk, bad times indeed; not that it becomes me to complain when our noble rulers think it necessary to make war; but it is the poor who suffer. It is we who are taxed to keep the soldiers afoot; the bread is taken out of our children's mouths; we are murdered and robbed, our houses are plundered and burned——"

"Except in your case, mein Wirth," said Harry, interrupting the man's hurried, nervous, inconsequent speech. "You seem very comfortable here; I see no signs of plunder or burning."

"No, your excellency, they—they—they were disturbed."

"Disturbed!"

"Did I say disturbed? I meant alarmed—alarmed, mein Herr. Your excellency's escape—for which Heaven be thanked!—caused them to hurry off;—yes, to hurry off, for, of course, they feared the guard from Urach; that is how it was: your excellency understands?"

"Perfectly. And which way did they go?"

"Which way, your excellency?" The man's tone was expressive of the greatest surprise: he was gaining confidence. "How should I know? They galloped away; that was all I knew——"

"Ah! And where did they get the horses?"

"The horses! the horses! Ah yes! the horses." Mine host was now floundering desperately. "Why, of course, they caught the horses and then galloped away—you understand?"

"Excellently. And my horse—you have that in your stable still?"

"Your horse! Yes, of course; it must be there; I will go and saddle it myself for your excellency."

"Not so fast. There is no hurry, my friend. They caught the horses and galloped away. And where are they now?"

"What strange questions, Excellency! Where are they now? How should I know! It is announced they went away towards Ulm: one can never tell with such wretches: they are here to-day and gone to-morrow. To look for them would be like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"That's a pity, landlord; I fear you must make up your mind for a long search."

"A search! I, Excellency?"

"Yes, you. And we will, if you please, start at once."

Harry said this in the same quiet matter-of-fact tone in which he might have said, "I will have breakfast at eight". The landlord looked dumbfounded, his head hanging forward, his eyes fixed in a wild stare upon the face of the visitor. Harry sat up in his chair and spoke very slowly and distinctly, leaving time for the words to sink in.

"I have come, landlord, either to find our midnight disturbers, or to deliver you in their stead to the magistrates of Urach. Which it is to be depends entirely on you. No; it is useless to protest"—the man was rubbing his hands nervously together, and stammering an expostulation—"I have the strongest proof that you were associated with the villains in the trap set for me three nights ago. You can make your choice between returning with me to Urach, where there is plenty of rope and a serviceable gallows-frame in the market square; and yielding me sincere and instant help in the little enquiry I am about to make. I do not wish to hurry you: you shall have a few minutes to think it over. Bring me a cup of wine."

The man moved to the cupboard as in a dream. Harry took the cup he offered, and as he sipped it, watched the landlord return the bottle mechanically to its place on the shelf, take up a plate and put it down again, cut half through a loaf of bread and leave the knife in it, flick imaginary crumbs from the clear table. He looked like a rat in a trap. He glanced at the window, then at the door, and appeared for a moment to measure his chances in a struggle. But Harry's air of confident self-possession, and the knowledge that a sturdy henchman held the door within a few feet of him, daunted any impulse to active resistance. At length, drawing a napkin nervously through his fingers, and trying to assume an air of dignified forbearance, he said:

"I am in your excellency's hands. I protest; but since you doubt me, I am willing to accompany your excellency to Urach, and prove my innocence to the magistrates. I am well known in Urach, and permit me to say, I shall require good compensation when you are forced to admit your mistake."

"Your expectation shall not be disappointed," said Harry quietly. "We will, then, start at once."

"But it will be near midnight when we arrive, your excellency being on foot——"

"You have my horse in your stable, I thought?"

"I was mistaken,—a moment's forgetfulness, mein Herr. The horse—the other day—I mean——"

"Yes, I understand. Nevertheless, we will start at once."

"But, Excellency, nothing can be done until the morning. If you will wait——"

"For another visit from your friends? no."

"Not my friends, Excellency. I am an honest man. But as you will. I will awaken the ostler and leave him in charge of the inn."

He made quickly towards the door, but Harry, who had seen through all his attempts to gain time and make an opportunity to get away, interposed.

"Ring your bell there: that will waken him. But you will not leave him in charge of the house: he will come with us, and your servant also. The inn shall be shut up, and I doubt not your good fortune in escaping the attentions of the marauders will still hold. I will give you five minutes to get ready."

The landlord, seeing that his last hope of communicating with his friends was gone, recognized that the game was up. His assurance collapsed; he became merely sullen.

"What is it that your excellency wishes me to do?"

"As I said: first to choose between complying with my demands and facing a public trial for treason at Urach."

"What are your excellency's demands?"

"First make your choice."

"Your excellency will guarantee my safety if I comply?"

"I cannot answer for that; but I will do what I can."

The man's face gave signs of a final mental struggle; then he said:

"I will do as your excellency wishes."

"A wise choice: it gives you a chance of saving your neck; there is none at all the other way. A few questions first. How many travellers—let us say officers of the English army—have you trapped as you tried to trap me?"

The man hesitated.

"Quick!" cried Harry, "no paltering now. You know the alternative."

"One, your excellency," was the reluctant, sullen admission.

"And what became of the other?"

"He was waylaid on the road."

"The first, or the second?"

"The second."

"And the officer captured here—what was he like? Was he tall or short?"

"He was tall, Excellency, with fair hair and blue eyes. He was always whistling."

"These officers—where were they taken to?"

"To the hills."

"In what direction?"

"Towards Geislingen."

"Where are they now?"

The man dropped his eyes and fidgeted. He had been growing restive under this examination; his tone had become more and more sullen.

"I—I don't know, Excellency," he stammered.

"Come, refresh your memory. Remember—they have to be found; I must have an answer, and an exact description of the spot: out with it!"

The landlord could hardly have looked more uncomfortable if a thumb-screw had been applied. For a few moments he strove with himself; then muttered:

"I don't know: the castle of Rauhstein—when I last heard."

"And when was that?"

"Yesterday."

"The castle will not have moved, eh? Where is it?"

"About ten miles away."

"Who owns it?"

"Nobody: it is a ruin. The land belongs to the Graf von Rauhstein."

"But it is not so much a ruin that it cannot shelter your friends. How many do they number?"

"Two hundred or more."

"What are they?"

"All kinds: soldiers, outlaws—French, Bavarian, Swabian."

"And who commands them?"

"A Bavarian captain: by his speech, a foreigner born."

"That is enough, I think. We will prepare to start."

"To start, Excellency! Whither?"

"For the castle."

"But—but, Excellency," stammered the man, "you do not mean it? You would not venture there, you and I and two men? You—we—they would murder us all."

"We must risk that. As for you, your risk will be equally great, or greater, if you stay here: if the two officers are not safe in Urach by to-morrow night, a detachment will be sent to arrest you. You understand?"

The landlord was chapfallen and pallid with mingled fears. On the one hand, the vengeance of the associates he had been constrained to betray; on the other, the retribution of the burghers of Urach.

"Excellency," he said falteringly, "I have given you information. You have promised to guarantee my safety——"

"No," interrupted Harry; "I said I would do what I could."

"I trust to you, Excellency: you will have mercy upon a poor man; in these days it is hard to live; I did not mean any harm to the officers; I insisted their persons should not be injured: I was under compulsion, fearing——"

"Enough!" said Harry, to whom the man's cringing and whining were more distasteful than his former attitude. "Give my man the key of your stable: he will saddle your horse. We shall not need to awaken your servant, after all. You will lead the way to the castle. And one word before we start: try to mislead us or play us false, and you will be immediately shot. I give you my word for that. Now, put on your hat."

CHAPTER XX

The Castle of Rauhstein

The Hidden Way—In the Fosse—Below the Dungeons—Out of the Depths—A Sleeping Castle—The Stairway in the Keep—Counting the Chickens—The Battlements—A Breakneck Descent—A Friendly Shower—A Narrow Margin—Eugene Laughs—A Bold Stroke—Eugene's Double—"Our Good Prince Eugene"—Mein Wirth as Postilion—An Empty Pistol

It was about nine o'clock, and a dark night, when Harry with his two companions set off on horseback towards the castle of Rauhstein. When Harry mentioned their destination to Max, the man said that he had known the district from boyhood, and was well acquainted with the castle and its precincts, so that it was unnecessary to take the landlord as guide. But the latter could not be left to himself except under lock and key, and Harry decided that it would be at once safer and more convenient to have him with them. Max led the way along a horse-track that zigzagged over the limestone hills, Harry followed with the landlord, their horses being securely linked together. Harry had unbuttoned his holsters, displaying two pistols; the sight of them, he felt, would keep the landlord on his good behaviour.

The track was tortuous, skirting rugged spurs of rock, crossing narrow ravines, and here and there a mountain brook, passing through black clumps of beech forest that dotted the slope. The riders were surrounded by a vast silence, broken only by the cries of night birds and the croak of frogs in the pools. The horses' shoes clicked on the hard ground; it would clearly not be safe to approach too close to the castle on horseback, and as they rode Harry quietly asked the landlord how the ruin was situated, and whether there was any cover within a secure distance. He learnt that the castle was built against the hill-side, so that it was inaccessible from the rear; it was almost wholly in ruins, but the keep and one or two adjacent parts had been recently made habitable by the marauders. There was a fosse, now dry; the drawbridge had disappeared, and was replaced by a rough bridge of planks. The landlord knew of no entrance but this; it was guarded day and night, but no watch was kept on any other part of the building. There were no trees in the immediate neighbourhood of the castle, but about half a mile before it was reached an extensive plantation of beech covered a valley to the right of the track, and in this the horses could be left.

It was past eleven before the three riders reached the beech plantation. There alighting, they tied their horses to trees well within the clump, and proceeded on foot. It occurred to Harry that if the animals chanced to whinny they might be heard by any member of the garrison who happened to be without the walls; but Max told him that the two tracks leading to the castle from the Urach highroad were both a considerable distance to right and left of the hill path by which they had come, so that there was little fear of such an untoward accident.

They climbed up the path in silence, the darkness being so deep that they could not distinguish the outline of anything more than a few yards away. It was therefore almost unawares that Max himself, for all his knowledge of the country, came upon the main road into which the track ran, about a quarter of a mile from the castle. Here he stopped.

"Monsieur," he said, "I heard what the landlord said to you. It is all true; but though he speaks only of the entrance by the plank bridge, I know, and he may know too, of another—one that I discovered by chance, rambling here with some comrades many years ago. It is a small broken doorway opening from the fosse, much overgrown with bush and trees, and indeed so well hidden that I almost doubt whether I could find it after this long time."

"Well, Max, you must try. I don't want you to go into the castle yourself: I suppose you have not seen it since the marauders have sheltered there?"

"No, Monsieur."

"Then I must go myself. The fosse is dry, you say?"

"Yes, Monsieur."

"Then we can all three go down into it, and the landlord and I will remain hidden while you search for the secret entrance. Whither does it lead?"

"To a tunnel that rises gradually up the hill, and enters the castle near the dungeons below the keep."

"Lead on, then. We will go to the left, and walk warily to escape the ears of the sentry at the gate."

In a few minutes they came to the edge of the fosse. They clambered carefully down, assisting their steps by the young trees which thickly covered the steep side. When they reached the bottom, Max went forward by himself to explore. His movements caused a rustle, but being followed by the scurrying of rabbits disturbed in the brake, such slight customary noises were not likely to alarm the sentry, even if he should near them.

Harry had his hand on the landlord's wrist as they waited minute after minute. Max was gone a long time. All was silent now save for the murmurs of birds and the chirping of insects. At length, after what seemed to Harry's impatience hours of delay, the man groped his way back, and whispered:

"I have found it, Monsieur."

"That is well. Now lead us to it."

"You will not take me into the castle, Excellency?" murmured the landlord in affright.

"Have no fear. Be silent."

The three went into the tangled mass of tree and shrub, and Max had no difficulty now in taking a pretty direct path to the opening of the tunnel. When the bushes were pulled aside, they revealed to the touch—for to see was impossible—an arch of crumbling brickwork not more than five feet high. Evidently a man could not walk upright through the tunnel.

"Did you ever get into the castle this way?" asked Harry.

"Yes, Monsieur, but it was fifteen years ago."

"So that the tunnel may be blocked now?"

"Certainly."

"Or it may be the haunt of wild beasts?"

"Nothing wilder than rabbits, I should think."

"Well, it is not too pleasant a task to crawl through there in the dark, but it must be done. Now, Max, you will return to the place where we left our horses; the landlord will go with you. Here is one of my pistols; you know what to do with it if need be. Wait for me there: if I do not come to you within say a couple of hours, ride to Urach, and tell the lieutenant of the guard what has happened."

Max hesitated.

"Let me go, Monsieur," he said. "Why should you run into the jaws of danger? They are desperate men, these brigands."

"Thank you, Max! but it is my task. Do my bidding, my good fellow; I have counted the cost."

He waited until the two men had crept away; then, crushing the feeling of eeriness that affected him in spite of himself, he bent his head and went forward into the tunnel. There was at once a scurry of animals past his legs; he felt the furry coats and tails of rabbits brush his hands; but he went slowly forward, touching the wall at his right to guide himself, and wondering how long the tunnel was, and whether there was enough air to carry him through to the end. The atmosphere was stuffy, with mingled smells so nauseating that Harry quickened his pace, eager to escape into purer air again. He had not thought to count his steps when he first entered the tunnel, but began to do so after taking about a dozen. At the fortieth of his counting the wall to his right came to an end. He stopped, and, raising his hand above his head, found that it was not obstructed by the roof: he had evidently come to the end of the passage. He stood upright and listened; he could hear nothing.

Extending his arms, he found that he was in a narrow passage. Max had said that the tunnel led below the keep: there must, then, be a staircase somewhere. Harry went cautiously forward, stopping at every few steps to listen, and placing his feet with great care to avoid coming unawares upon some obstacle. At length his foot touched what felt like a stone step in front of him; another moment, and he was sure he had come to the expected staircase. It was pitch dark; he mounted carefully, and found that the stairs wound round and round. He had just counted fifteen steps, when his head came into violent contact with something above. The blow brought tears to his eyes, and he rubbed his head vigorously, as he had been wont to do after a knock in his childish days.

Feeling with his hands, he discovered that the staircase was roofed over with stone. It appeared to be a slab let down into sockets; yet no, on the left side there was a space of about a finger-width between the stone and the wall, on the right there was no such space. He paused; the stone was so broad that to lift it was clearly impossible; it had never been intended to be moved from below. He bent his head, hitched his left shoulder, and shoved hard against the stone. It did not yield by the smallest interval. For a moment he was puzzled. Then a possible explanation of the space between the stone and the wall at the left occurred to him. Perhaps the stone moved on a pivot? He went to the other side and set his right shoulder to it. At first he felt no yielding; but exerting all his strength he shoved again, the stone slowly gave, and with continued pressure moved over until it came to a vertical position, leaving space enough for his body to pass through. He ascended, keeping his hand on the stone to prevent it from falling back noisily into its place, clambered on to the floor above, let the stone carefully down, and stood up to collect himself before proceeding farther.

Now that he had come thus far, he felt a chill shrinking from what lay before him. He was alone in a strange place, within a few feet of desperate and unscrupulous ruffians, who would kill him with no more compunction than they would spit a hare. The unknown peril might well give the bravest pause. But a thought of his duty stilled his tremors. He had a duty of service to Marlborough, and a duty of friendship to Fanshawe; remembering them, he steeled his soul.

If his hazardous visit was to prove of any service he must discover the nature and position of the defences. He knew little about the construction of castles, but Max had said that the entrance led to the keep, which was the only part of the ruin still habitable. The inmates must therefore be somewhere near him, and it behoved him to move warily. He was apparently in a stone-flagged passage. He took off his boots and slung them round his neck; then went forward a few steps, and came upon another passage at right angles, the farther end being faintly lit as from a distance. Stealing down this, he saw on his right hand the arched entrance to what was clearly the great hall of the keep, a long bare chamber illuminated by two or three smoky candles. Along the walls lay a number of men, sleeping on mattresses, cloaks, bundles of straw. At the farther end was a large table, at which two men were seated, bending forward with heads on their crossed arms, as though dozing. The table was covered with pots and tankards and metal plates. Taking this in at one swift glance, Harry turned to see what lay in the other direction.

A few feet from him was the bottom of another winding stair, which, he conjectured, led to the top of the keep. In the wall to his right there was a narrow opening giving on the courtyard, where he heard the movements of many horses. He was wondering whether, finding the doorway into the courtyard, he might venture to steal across it and explore the other side, when he heard voices from the hall behind him. Quick as thought he slipped back into the dark passage he had first entered, and waited there with beating heart. Peeping round the corner, he saw two men—doubtless the two who had been bending over the table—pass as if towards the staircase. He heard their spurred boots ringing on the stones, and knew by the sounds that they were ascending the stairs, to relieve guard, he guessed, at the top of the keep. There was evidently nothing to be discovered by remaining where he was; if he followed the men he might find a means of exploring the upper part of the fortress. He ran lightly along the passage, and began the ascent of the winding stair, finding himself soon in total darkness. But after about a dozen steps the staircase began to be faintly illuminated from above. Harry paused for a moment to listen. He heard nothing but the footsteps of the men who had preceded him, and was just going on when, through a loophole in the wall to his right, he heard the clatter of a horse's hoofs and the shout of a man. He held his breath and stood still. The horse had evidently just come over the bridge and through the archway into the courtyard. There were now sounds of many voices below; the hoof-beats suddenly ceased, and shortly afterwards Harry heard hurried footsteps on the stone passage he had lately left, and voices growing in volume and echoing in the circular space of the winding stair. Several men were ascending. If he remained where he was he must inevitably be detected; his only course was to continue his ascent. But he had not taken three steps before he heard footsteps above him; the sentry who had been relieved was coming down. His heart was in his mouth. But the men below were the nearer; there was just a chance that if he went higher he might come upon some temporary hiding-place, and in his stocking feet he made no sound that would betray him.

Up then he went; the light was becoming stronger; and a turn of the staircase brought him opposite the doorway through which it shone. The door was gone. He hesitated but for a moment; below and above him the footsteps were perilously near; on the wall of the room he saw two long military cloaks hanging to the floor; they would conceal him. Peeping into the room, he noted with one rapid glance a smoky guttering candle and a figure recumbent on a mattress. He went in on tiptoe, and slipped behind the cloaks. The slight rustle he made disturbed the slumbering man.

"Qui va la?" came the sleepy question.

Harry stood still as a stone, and felt his heart thumping against his ribs.

"Qui va la?" repeated the voice in a louder tone, and by the increased light in the narrow crack between the cloak and the wall Harry guessed that the man had risen on his elbow and snuffed the candle. An answering voice came from the doorway.

"Sebald Schummel, mon capitaine."

"Ah! Bien! Donnez-moi de vos nouvelles."

Harry felt a cold shiver down his back, and an impulse to pull aside the cloak and confirm by sight the evidence of his hearing. The voice was the voice of Captain Aglionby. Here was a discovery indeed. But he had scarcely time even to be surprised, for he was listening intently to a conversation that absorbed all his thought.

"The prince has arrived in Urach," said the new-comer. "He leaves at five in the morning on his way to Stuttgart. He travels by coach."

"Ah! what is his escort?"

"Two aides-de-camp and thirty dragoons, mon capitaine."

"A bagatelle! The game is ours!"

"Yes, mon capitaine," said another voice; "he will not easily escape us."

"Parbleu! He shall not. You are sure of the hour, Sebald?"

"Yes, Monsieur; and I have left a trusty man to send us word if it is altered."

"He is not likely to change his route?"

"There is no reason for it, mon capitaine, and our men are watching every road."

"Good! Your news is welcome, Sebald. Go and eat; I will consult with Monsieur le Lieutenant here; you shall have your orders by and by."

Two or three men left the room, and the captain was alone with his lieutenant and Harry. The latter had already heard enough to set all his wits on the alert. The conversation that ensued, though carried on by both the speakers in continuance of a former discussion, gave Harry little trouble to understand. It was evident that the marauders under Captain Aglionby's lead were planning to intercept Prince Eugene on his way to meet Marlborough, and Harry listened with a flutter at the heart as all the details were arranged. The ambuscaders, divided into three bands, were to station themselves at a point about two miles north of the wayside inn, where the road narrowed. Two of the bands were to conceal themselves in the woods on either side of the road, the third some distance behind them, towards the inn, to cut off any escape rearwards.

"Monsieur le Prince will sleep hard to-morrow," said Aglionby with a chuckle, when he had arranged the composition of the bands. "Now, as we must start in an hour or two, do you go down and rouse the men; I will follow in a minute and give them their orders. What sort of night is it?"

"Dull, with a threat of rain."

"Ah! we shall want our cloaks. Well, rouse the men; our bird will have his feathers clipped long ere this to-morrow."

Harry had gone cold at the mention of the cloaks, and gripped his pistol. But the lieutenant went from the room without disturbing him, and Aglionby shortly afterwards followed. Harry heaved a silent sigh of relief, waited until the sound of his footsteps had quite died away, then left his hiding-place and hastened to the staircase.

He was in no doubt what to do. To descend, now that the garrison was awakened, would be to court instant detection. The alternative was to go higher up the keep, and endeavour to find some way of escape over the ruined battlements. He mounted a few steps; the moon had risen, and her light, fitfully shining between masses of flying scud in the sky, lit up the staircase through the narrow openings at intervals in the wall. A few steps more, and on his right Harry saw a low doorway, this also without a door, leading directly on to the battlements. He peered up the outer wall of the keep, and saw that a sentinel at the top must almost certainly descry a figure moving along below. But escape he must; Prince Eugene must be warned in time, and Urach was several miles away. He longed for a friendly cloud to obscure the moon while he made a dash; and, pat to his wish, a dark mass of thunderous density cut off every gleam. Without another moment's delay Harry sprang on to the broken masonry, and, taking sure foothold in his stocking feet, ran towards a tower at the left-hand corner of the enceinte, hoping there to find an exit. The upper part of the tower was almost wholly in ruins, but the lower part was in good preservation, and to his disappointment Harry found that the only doorway led into the courtyard, in which he already heard the bustle of preparation. There was nothing for it but to pursue his way along the battlements to the tower at the right-hand rear corner. Entering this, he discovered a postern on the outer wall. It was twenty feet above the summit of a steep slope leading to the level ground a hundred yards away. Harry looked out, and saw that below the postern the masonry had crumbled and fallen, and was now covered with undergrowth and ivy clinging to the tower wall. To make his descent here he would have to risk a broken limb, perhaps a broken neck, but there was no other means of exit that he could discover, and it was necessary that he should get quickly away with Max and the landlord before the marauding band rode out. Clinging to a strong tendril of ivy, he leapt on to a precarious corner of broken brickwork, lost his footing, checked his fall by clutching at a shrub, found a firmer foothold a little below, and so made the complete descent to the edge of the slope, where he stayed his progress by again grasping the ivy.

The air was warm and close, foreboding thunder, and by this time Harry was bathed in sweat. He rested for a few moments at the foot of the wall. The jagged masonry had cut holes in his stockings and made his feet bleed. Between him and level ground was a steep declivity of almost bare rock, so precipitous that to walk down it was impossible, to run dangerous. He pulled on his boots, lay on his back, and slid down feet foremost, with some bumps and bruises, but with more serious injury to his apparel. As he reached the level a loud rumble of thunder broke above him, and he felt the first large spots of a shower. He was far from the place where he had left his companions, and to reach it he would have to cross the direct road to the castle gate. To avoid discovery it seemed best to creep down into the dry overgrown fosse, and steal his way along until he gained the spot on the other side of the plank bridge where he had descended to find the tunnel. Even under the bridge the vegetation was rank and thick enough to conceal him, and he had no fear of his movements being heard, for the rain was now pattering fast. This, then, he did; in a few minutes he came to the place where he had parted with Max, and, scrambling up the side of the fosse, struck into the road and hastened towards the trees. He wandered for some time among them without finding the men of whom he was in search, and at length risked a low call.

"Is that you, Monsieur?" came the reply in Max's voice from near at hand.

"Ah! I was afraid I had lost you. Have you the landlord safe?"

"Yes, Monsieur. I had almost given you up."

"Lead out the horses. We must get to Urach as quickly as possible. And not by the road: do you know a way across the hills?"

"Yes, but it will be difficult to find in the dark, and hark to the rain!"

"Yes, it is raining hard, but you must try to find the way; I dare not risk the road. Lead on, Max; I will follow you with the landlord."

Max led his horse through the wood, the others close behind him. Crossing the road, he entered a narrow ravine, left this at a cleft on the right, and taking a tortuous course, rising continually, he came after some twenty minutes to the crest of a rocky hill.

"It is all right, Monsieur," he said. "The way is easier now and we can mount. The rain is over, too."

"Well for us! Now, Max, at your best pace, provided it is not neck-breaking."

The three set off, the landlord uttering many groans and lamentations as he jolted in his saddle. Harry did not address him; he had too much to think of. If, as Aglionby's messenger had said, there were spies in Urach and around, it was likely that the entrance of three riders into the town at so late an hour would be noticed, and might awaken suspicion. Harry's wish was not merely to foil the ambuscade, but to turn the tables on the ambuscaders. As he rode he decided what to do.

"Max," he said, riding alongside of the man where a difficult part of the track caused a slackening of the pace; "Max, tell me when we come within about half a mile of the town; we will halt there."

"We leave the hills and strike the road at that distance, Monsieur."

"Very well; we will stop before we reach the road."

It was two o'clock in the morning when the three riders came to a halt within a little dell concealed from the road by an intervening hillock.

"Remain here with the landlord and my horse, Max," said Harry. "I am going on foot to the town."

At the gate-house he gave the password and was at once admitted. He went to the lodging of the lieutenant of the guard, woke him, and told him in a few words what he had discovered.

"Mon Dieu!" cried the lieutenant, "you are just in time. The prince decided last night to hasten his going; he sets off at four. He will have to remain here, or go back, for his escort are no match for these brigands, even with our burgher guard, who in any case are not permitted to leave the town. The prince must either wait here until he can get a force from Prince Louis of Baden, or try another road."

"The roads are watched. But I think the prince had better carry out his original intention and leave here at five."

"But he will certainly be captured."

"Not certainly. I should like to see him. I left Max and that rascal of a landlord half a mile out. The town is quiet; do you think it will be safe to send for them?"

"Oh yes! I will do that. You will find the prince at the Rathhaus."

"Will you lend me a change of things while mine are drying?"

"Of course! The sleeves of my coat will be short for you, I fear, but you will not need it long."

To change was but the work of a few minutes; then Harry hastened to the Rathhaus. The guard made some demur to admitting him at such an hour, but yielded when he assured them that his message was urgent, and he was conducted to an aide-de-camp, who on hearing his story in outline did not scruple to awaken the prince. Harry was not prepared for the reception his news met with. The prince broke into a roar of laughter.

"A right tit-for-tat for the Duke de Vendôme," he said. "Two can play at coney-catching! You are surprised at my levity, young sir; but the truth is, I tried to play the same game on the duke two years ago: attempted to seize him in his house at Rivalto on the banks of the Lake of Mantua. I sent fifty men in boats to capture him; but they killed the sentinel instead of carrying him off, as I intended; the noise drew the guard to the spot, and my men had to re-embark to save their skins. Well, in war let him trick the other who can: I am obliged to you for your warning. Un homme averti en vaut deux: we'll be even with the tricksters. What shall we do, lieutenant?"

"It would seem that we must take another road, Monsieur le Prince," said the aide-de-camp.

"Ma foi, non; we'll cut our way through them. I never turned back on my enemy yet."

"They are too many, your highness. Your thirty men could not cut their way through two hundred."

"Then we must go another way."

"They have spies on the roads, Monsieur," said Harry. "Your highness would have to make a wide detour, and that would give the brigands plenty of time to sweep round and intercept you. If I might suggest a plan that occurred to me——"

"Go on."

"It is that your highness's coach should set off at the time arranged, attended by a portion of your escort——"

"Empty?"

"Not so, Monsieur. A man might take your highness's place. The brigands would imagine their scheme was prospering; the scouts would be drawn off; and after an interval your highness with the remainder of the escort could safely take the western road and be well on the way to Stuttgart before the trick was discovered."

"Aha! And who is to personate me? Not yourself? You have too great an advantage of me in inches."

"My ambition is less, your highness. I have a man of about your height; if you would deign to let him wear your wig, hat, and cloak for a few hours, I think he would make a personable copy of your highness."

The prince laughed.

"Well, you have a ready wit, my lad. But it would be running into the jaws of the wolves; I should lose half my escort and my coach, and you and your man your lives. They would not spare you when they learnt how you had tricked them."

"It would be a cheap purchase of your highness's safety. Besides, I think we might manage to escape the wolves, as your highness is pleased to call them."

"Indeed! Come, you are a young strategist; what have you in your mind?"

"To get into the castle, Monsieur le Prince, while the greater part of the brigands are absent, and to hold it until a force can be sent from Stuttgart to our assistance."

"A bold scheme, by my faith! What reason have you to suppose you could surprise the castle? It will not be left unguarded."

Then Harry gave a rapid narrative of what had happened since his adventure at the inn. Prince Eugene listened with close attention, his eyes lighting up with excitement and pleasure as he heard the details of the plan Harry had thought out as he rode from the castle.

"Parbleu!" he exclaimed at the end, "a bold scheme indeed, one after my own heart; I should like of all things to be with you in it. And you think my cousin Marlborough's two messengers are now in the castle?"

"I have no doubt of it, your highness; and as one of them is an old friend of my own, I have a strong personal reason for making the attempt."

"Well, I will not stay you. Rather I will say, Good luck to you! You deserve to succeed. I make no doubt that I shall be able to send you from Stuttgart a squadron or two of Prince Louis of Baden's horse, and if you and they can annihilate this pestilent band of outlaws you will do a service to the Emperor—a service that I shall take care is not forgotten. Time is pressing; my valet shall give you the suit I wore yesterday; I shall not need to trouble your man to lend me his in exchange, as I have another with me—a plain costume that will tell no tales. Ma foi! I could wish that for the next twelve hours he were Eugene of Savoy and I—what is his name?"

"Max Berens, Monsieur."

"Write his name, Lieutenant; if he were a courtier he would doubtless be content with the bare honour of filling my clothes for the nonce, but being a sensible man he will prefer a more tangible recompense. I shall see to it. Well, you have woke me from sleep, Monsieur; now I will ask you to leave me while I dress. And as we must be secret about this disguise, lest there be spies in the town, I shall not see you again until I meet you, as I hope to do, in my lord Marlborough's camp. Send your man here; I will take care that he is treated with the deference becoming his rank. Ha! ha! it is an excellent joke."

Harry went away delighted with the readiness with which the prince had entered into the spirit of his scheme. It was full of danger; he was under no illusion as to that; but this lent an additional zest to the adventure; he had thought out his plan carefully, and reckoned on finding an invaluable coadjutor in the landlord.

At five o'clock, in the cool of a fine morning, the prince's gilded coach drew up at the door of the Rathhaus, with fifteen dragoons in full riding trim. A carpet was spread from the entrance across the path to the coach, and one of the town officials stood in waiting to show the great man to his seat. By and by a figure in cocked hat, full wig, laced coat, and corslet came out with a fair counterfeit of Eugene's active gait; he gave a somewhat stiff acknowledgment of the salutes of the soldiers and the respectful obeisance of the local magnates and the crowd of interested townspeople, and stepped quickly into the coach. Harry followed him. The door was shut, the word given to the two postilions, and amid the cheers of all Urach the vehicle rattled over the stones, out at the gate, into the open highway. No one but the principals in the little drama, and the fifteen picked men of the escort, knew that the man to whom they had just shown such deference was not Eugene of Savoy, a prince of a sovereign house, but Max Berens, the simple son of a shoemaker.

Harry had been at the pains to drill his companions in the part they were to play. He had learnt from Max that there were two roads leading from the main highway to the castle. Of these the one nearest to Urach was the better; it branched off about a mile on the town side of the inn. The other was a more circuitous and difficult track across the hills, leaving the highroad at a point rather more distant from the inn on the farther side, and only a few yards from the spot chosen for the ambuscade. Between the two cross-roads the highway took a somewhat irregular course, and while it was visible from point to point, only a few yards of the intervening portion could be seen from either of the by-roads, owing to its windings and the undulations of the ground. When the coach, therefore, should arrive at the first road it would be descried by the ambuscaders, but would then disappear from their view, not becoming visible again until a short distance before it reached them. On this fact Harry reckoned for the successful accomplishment of the first part of his scheme.

A mile out of Urach, Harry found the landlord awaiting him in charge of one of the town guard. He was taken into the coach, which then drove rapidly on. On arriving at the cross-road, instead of going straight forward towards the inn and the ambush, it swung round to the right, and at Harry's orders the postilions whipped up the horses and drove at a headlong pace towards the castle. The actual turning could not be seen from the place of the ambuscade, and Harry confidently expected that the brigands, having caught sight of the coach the moment before it left the road, would await its coming without suspicion. Its non-appearance after a time would surprise them; they might suppose it had stopped at the inn to bait the horses; they would allow for this, and a considerable time would elapse before they discovered the truth. This interval would, he hoped, give him so long a start that he would have ample time to play his trick upon the garrison.

About half a mile from the castle, Harry ordered the postilions and escort to halt at a spot where they were hidden from the garrison by a stretch of rising ground. He then dismounted four of the dragoons, bade them get into the coach, and made the landlord change places with the postilion on one of the sear horses. In his hand he placed an empty pistol.

"When we drive on," he said, "you will point that at the back of the postilion in front of you, and look as grim as you please. When we come within earshot of the sentry at the bridge—I will give the word—you will shout to him to let us through quickly: 'Here we are!' you will cry. I have let down the window, you observe; Berens will be a few feet behind you with a loaded pistol: you understand?"

Then turning to the eleven dragoons who were still on horseback, he said:

"Now, men, you know your part. Wait till we are over the bridge, then gallop up at full speed with sabres drawn and pistols cocked, ready for anything."

"What about the four horses, Herr Capitan?" asked one of the troopers.

"We must leave them. Tie their heads together and string them to that tree yonder: we may get them by and by; if not, the coach horses will serve. Now; all ready! Drive on, landlord."

The two postilions—the foremost a stalwart dragoon—whipped up the horses, which dashed forward at a furious gallop towards the castle. It was a tight squeeze in the coach—Harry, Max, and the four big troopers jammed together in a narrow space.

"Level your pistol, landlord!" cried Harry.

The pale perspiring landlord held his harmless weapon in his left hand, covered by the loaded pistol of Max in the coach. On they drove, ploughing up the soil heavy with last night's rain, the horses straining at the traces. They were within thirty yards of the bridge.

"Shout, landlord!" said Harry in a loud whisper through the open window.

"Here we are! here we are!" cried the man.

"Louder!"

"Here we are!" He almost shrieked the words.

"The others are behind!" prompted Harry.

"The others are behind!" cried the landlord.

The sentry at the farther end of the bridge gave an answering shout; the boards that served for a gate were removed; the coach clattered and rumbled over the rocking creaking planks, and the postilions pulled up their reeking horses in the courtyard of the castle.

CHAPTER XXI

Across the Fosse

Shoulder to Shoulder—Wrecking the Bridge—Well Found—The Dungeons of Rauhstein—The Castle Cook—The Enemy's Plan—Unwilling Help—A Parley—The Bridge Builders—At Short Range—Supper—Counsel—Fireworks—Long Odds—A Rush—From a Sling—A Covered Way—Firing the Train—Shambles

The shouting and the clatter of the coach had drawn the garrison into the courtyard. From these twenty men, the remnant of the brigand band, a great cheer went up, and they pressed forward eagerly to see the princely captive. Two or three of them were unarmed, but the rest, with the habit of seasoned warriors, had their swords in their belts and carbines slung at their shoulders.

"Well done, Otto!" cried one, slapping the landlord on the back.

But at that moment both doors of the coach were flung open, and out of each sprang a man with a pistol in the left hand and a sword in the right. These were followed by others, and before the astonished garrison realized the situation, six fully armed men were among them, and one, a tall, dark, lissom young fellow, all fire and energy, was calling on them to surrender. A few, cowed by the pistols pointed within a foot of their heads, and taken utterly aback by this astounding change of scene, flung down their carbines from sheer inability to think; but the more nimble-witted, and those on the outskirts of the little group, scurried away, under cover of their comrades, out of range, unslinging their carbines and drawing their swords as they ran.

Meanwhile the foremost postilion, in obedience to orders previously given by Harry, whipped up his horses and drove them at a gallop round the courtyard, narrowly escaping a bullet from the carbine of one of the garrison, until he came opposite the gateway, where he drew up so as to present the side of the coach to the opening, and cut the traces. The garrison, having by this time perceived by how small a body they were confronted, came forward in a compact mass against the little band. Carbines cracked, pistols flashed, steel rang on steel, and with shouts and oaths the two bands engaged. Harry was not in this mellay, for in the confusion he had slipped away and rushed through the archway, just in time to see the sentry striving with might and main to hurl the planks of the bridge into the fosse. He had caught sight of eleven dragoons in Austrian uniform galloping up from the valley half a mile away. The man turned as he heard Harry's approach, snatched up his sword, which he had dropped for his work with the planks, and threw himself into his guard in the nick of time to meet the attack. Harry felt that it was not a moment for fine sword-play; the man was a burly fellow, clumsy, and to appearance dull of wits. Running a risk which would be fatal if his opponent were a keen swordsman, Harry gave him an opening. It was instantly accepted, but the thrust was parried with lightning rapidity, and before the man could recover himself Harry's sword had ploughed a deep furrow in his forearm, and with a yell of pain he let his own weapon fall to the ground. Stepping back at the same moment with the instinct of self-preservation, he tumbled headlong into the fosse.

Immediately Harry wheeled round and dashed back to the support of his men, now engaged in a desperate and unequal battle. Their backs to the coach, they were facing dauntlessly thrice their number of infuriated brigands, who had discarded their firearms and came to the attack with swords flashing in ever-narrowing circles. One of the dragoons had already fallen; but his comrades were all tough soldiers tried on many a battle-field, recking nothing of the odds, every man with full confidence in himself and his fellows. They were ranged in a quarter circle against the coach, with just enough space between them to allow free play with their weapons. Twice already had they beaten back the enemy; a third and more determined onslaught had somewhat broken their formation, and two men had been wounded and forced back, exposing the flank of the others. Harry sprang through the coach just in time to close the gap. He hurled himself into the fray with a shout; the enemy, taking him for the advance-guard of reinforcements, fell back for a moment; and before they could recover and return to the charge there was a thunderous clatter on the bridge, the eleven troopers flung themselves from their steeds, and scrambling man by man through the coach gave threefold strength to the hard-pressed line.

"Charge!" shouted Harry in his clear, ringing voice.

The men surged forward with a roar of exultation, scattering the brigands to the limits of the courtyard. Two or three bolted like rabbits into the keep; the rest cried for quarter and flung down their arms; the din of battle suddenly ceased, and some seventeen panic-stricken prisoners were the prize of the victors.

"Max, go into the keep, up the stairs to the top, and tell me what you see."

From the parapet of the keep Max shouted that he saw a large troop of horse not a mile away, galloping amain towards the castle.

"Men, with me!" cried Harry.

Twelve dragoons sprang through the coach after him, and with haste helped him to draw the planks of the bridge within the archway. They had completed their task save for the last plank when the foremost files of the enemy galloped up, checking their horses at the very brink when they saw the unbridged gap before them; no horse could cross on a two-foot plank. Harry withdrew his men just in time to escape the bullets fired at them by the baulked and enraged brigands. At the last moment he himself stooped, lifted the end of the plank, and hurled it into the fosse. A slug whizzed past his head; he dashed back under the archway, through the coach, breathless but safe.

As he stepped through the coach into the courtyard he heard a groan. His wounded men had been carried into the keep; at the moment no trooper was near. Bending down, he looked beneath the coach, and saw the landlord lying flat on his face, his head buried in his arms, groaning dismally.

"Are you hit, landlord?" asked Harry.

"Lord have mercy on my soul!" groaned the man.

"Never mind your soul; are your limbs sound? Come out, and let me look at you."

A palpitating mass crawled from beneath the vehicle. Dirty, chap-fallen, and dishevelled, but unhurt, the landlord stood in trembling and pitiful cowardice.

"Where are you hurt? Come, I've no time to waste. Why," he added, as he turned the man round and examined him, "you haven't a scratch. You're a pretty consort of ruffians! Get away into the keep and make yourself useful, or——"

The man scrambled away in limp despair, and Harry smiled grimly as he went about his pressing task.

He knew that he was safe for a time. The two hundred men outside were completely cut off from their quarters. "If they want their castle they must come and take it," thought Harry. They could only enter by one of three ways: the main entrance, if they repaired the bridge—but that could be prevented by marksmen within; the tunnel—but that could be blocked up; the tower by which he himself had escaped—but one or two men there could easily prohibit access by the slope and postern. Harry set a sentinel at each point, and then made a rapid survey of the position.

He found that the castle contained, besides a huge quantity of plunder, a plentiful stock of provisions, arms, and ammunition. There were indeed many bags of powder ranged carelessly around the walls of the courtyard, and these Harry had removed to a more secure place in one of the towers, and covered with sacking. He then went up on the battlements to see what the enemy were about. They had withdrawn to a knoll at some distance and dismounted, and an exciting discussion appeared to be going on among their leaders. Harry called to Max to remain on the look-out and report any fresh movement among them; then he prepared to visit the dungeons.

The prisoners had been secured in the hall of the keep.

"Which of you acts as warder?" asked Harry, entering the hall.

"Zooks! if it an't young Mr. Rochester!" said an amazed voice in English. "I be the warder, Mr. Rochester."

"You, John Simmons! Now, answer me quickly: are there any prisoners below?"

"There be two, sir, certainly, and I was against it—that's the truth, sir; I was against it, but the capt'n he would cool their courage, he said, and what could I do, sir?—though it did cut me to the heart to serve Mr. Fanshawe so——"

"Hold your tongue, knave! Take me to the place at once."

"I was against it," muttered the man, as he led the way out of the hall, through the stone passage, into a room near the spot at which Harry had ascended from the tunnel. Here he lifted a slab in the floor, and let down a rope ladder, coiled beneath it, into a pit of blackness.

"They are there?" exclaimed Harry in horror, as he peered down, and found himself unable to discern anything.

"I was against it," murmured Simmons again.

"The inhuman fiends!" cried Harry. "Fanshawe, are you there?" he called into the mouth of the dungeon, his voice echoing strangely from the hollow.

"Yes," came the faint answer. "Who are you?"

"'Tis Harry Rochester, old fellow. We'll have you out in a trice,—and Lieutenant Buckley, too; is he with you?"

"Ay. Is the ladder down?"

"Yes. Come along; we're all friends here."

Soon Fanshawe's fair head appeared above the hole. Harry caught his arm and helped him to step on to the floor.

"God bless you, Harry!" he said feebly. His cheeks were drawn and pale; his eyes sunken and haggard; his hair was dank and disordered; and he tottered and would have fallen but for Harry's sustaining arm. After him came a young officer whom Harry did not know. He, too, showed signs of suffering, but his incarceration was shorter by several days than Fanshawe's, and he was not so much overcome by the sudden return to light and liberty.

"Poor old fellow!" said Harry, linking his arm in Fanshawe's. "Come and let me make you comfortable. I'll tell you all about things by and by, and hear what you have to tell. We must get you right first. Aglionby shall pay for this!"

The two luckless prisoners were taken to the hall and given food.

"I've fed 'em twice a day reg'lar," said Simmons. "They ha'n't wanted for nothing, and I was against keeping 'em shut in that there damp and foul hole."

"Silence, fellow! Go and bury the men killed in the fight. Then come to me."

Having made Fanshawe and Buckley as comfortable as possible, Harry selected one of his own men to act as store-keeper, and then, as a sudden idea struck him, called for the landlord. The man could not at first be found, but after some search was discovered and hauled with many gibes into Harry's presence.

"Cease whimpering and listen to me," said Harry. "You must do something to earn your food. You shall be cook. Doubtless you know the arrangements of this place; go and prepare a good meal for the men, and do your best; it will be to your interest."

Ascending then to the top of the keep, he sent Max down to get some breakfast, and looked around. The enemy were not in sight. They had evidently withdrawn into the copse about half a mile distant; perhaps under cover of it they had drawn off altogether. But knowing their leader, and imagining the fury with which he must have seen the frustration of his carefully-laid plans, Harry could not believe that he would tamely accept the check as final. Aglionby, whatever his faults, did not lack courage. He was not likely to throw up the game at the loss of the first trick. He would probably assume that it was Prince Eugene himself who had stolen a march upon him; in that case he would suppose that he had the prince caged in the castle; and whatever advantage he had expected to derive from the capture of the prince would induce him to strain every nerve to prevent him from escaping. His aim, Harry supposed, had been to hand Prince Eugene over to the Elector of Bavaria, and reap much credit as well as a more tangible recompense. In order to entrap the prince he had sent on Fanshawe's letter by another hand. If he returned to the Elector's army without his prize, when the odds had seemed all in his favour, he would become the laughing-stock of the camp. Harry therefore felt certain that he would attempt to retake the castle at whatever cost.

If he should succeed, Harry knew that he himself need expect no mercy. Aglionby had a long account against him; time after time his plans had been foiled; the sole item on the credit side, the saving of his life at Breda, was likely, in a man of his disposition, only to deepen his rancour.

He would, of course, sooner or later find out his mistake in regard to Prince Eugene; and when the discovery was made he would expect the prince to send a force at the first opportunity to relieve the men, whoever they were, who had captured the castle, or at any rate to avenge their fate. In either case Aglionby would lose no time, but would hasten by all the means in his power any attack he might meditate. So far as Harry could judge, he had nearly three hundred men under his command; it would not be long before he learnt, if indeed he did not already know, that the present holders of the castle did not number more than a score. In the circumstances he would almost certainly attempt to take the place by assault, and the obvious point of attack was the gateway. The bridge was broken down; the fosse was too deep to be filled up; the attackers would therefore have to construct another bridge, and the fosse being little more than twenty feet wide, they could easily rig up a portable platform strong enough to carry them to the assault. There was plenty of timber in the neighbourhood; with the force at his disposal Aglionby might make a serviceable bridge in a few hours.

Meanwhile, what was Harry to do with the prisoners? The question gave him some trouble. He had plenty of provisions; there would be no difficulty in feeding them; but if he kept them in the castle they would require a guard of at least one man day and night, so that of his own little band two men would practically be lost for effective defence. If, on the other hand, he let them loose, he would add eighteen men, fourteen of whom were unhurt, to the enemy's strength. Deciding that on the whole it would be best to keep them, he went down to settle their fate without loss of time.

He gave them one by one the option of making himself useful in the defence of the castle, or of being lowered into the dungeon whence Fanshawe and Buckley had just been released. With one consent the men elected to avoid the dungeon. Harry at once set some of them to collect stones from the more ruinous parts of the castle, and to pile them up across the gateway, leaving loopholes for musketry fire. Others he ordered to take a supply of heavy stones to the summit of the keep, and to stack them there out of sight from the distant copse. Three armed men accompanied each squad to prevent treachery. In pursuance of the plan of defence that was forming in his mind, Harry went himself to the most dilapidated of the three towers, and selecting two or three specially large blocks of stone, weighing at a guess about a hundred-weight each, he had them loosened from the debris and carried up the winding stair of the keep. In the courtyard he saw a number of stout poles, for which a use at once suggested itself. As they would not go up the winding stair, he got one of the men to splice several lengths of rope, and the long rope thus formed was let down from the top of the keep and knotted to one end of the poles, which were then drawn up the tower on the side facing the courtyard.

When these tasks had been completed, the prisoners were placed in the ground-floor room of one of the towers, and a man was set over them, with orders to shoot any who should attempt to move from the place. Harry divided his garrison into watches as on board ship, each watch to be on duty for four hours. Every man had his post, and, entering into their young leader's spirit, the dragoons accepted readily the duties laid upon them, and showed themselves full of a light-hearted confidence that augured well for their success. One and all they were hugely delighted with the trick, and discussed it among themselves with much merriment, exasperating Max, however, by the mock deference they still paid to him as Prince Eugene.

As soon as he had a spare moment, Harry got from Fanshawe and Buckley an account of their experiences. As he had guessed, Fanshawe had been captured at dead of night in the inn, his captors coming through the trap-door. Buckley had been misdirected by the landlord, and, losing his way, had fallen into an ambush. Both had been kept in the dungeon day and night, and fed twice a day. In his turn Harry related the chain of adventures which had ended so happily for them, and when he told them something of his plans for the future they both declared themselves well enough to assist him. This, however, he would not allow for the present, promising to avail himself of their help as soon as they had had time to recover from the effects of their confinement.

Just before noon, the man on the look-out at the gateway announced that one of the enemy was approaching with a flag of truce. Harry climbed up to the battlements to the left of the keep, and as soon as the man was within earshot demanded his business. Speaking in French, the messenger said that he had come at his captain's order to say that if Prince Eugene surrendered, he would be granted honourable treatment, and conducted to the camp of his highness the Elector of Bavaria, his men being allowed to go free. If these terms were rejected, the castle would be stormed and every member of the garrison would be put to the sword. The decision must be made in half an hour. Harry smiled.

"You may take our answer now," he said. "Tell your captain that soldiers of the confederate army do not yield to brigands and cut-throats."

The messenger rode back to the copse, and for some hours there was no further sign of the enemy, except for a few men who were noticed moving about a stretch of marshy ground about a mile from the castle. Harry wondered what their object could be, and calling Max to him, asked what there was on the marsh that they were likely to find useful.

"There is nothing there, Monsieur, but mud and reeds."

"Reeds! Of course. They are cutting reeds to bind together lengths of timber for a bridge. I heard the sound of chopping from the copse this morning. Well, Max, I think we are prepared for them."

Soon after three o'clock a body of about two hundred men was seen approaching on foot in open order. When within musket-shot they took what cover the irregularities of the ground and the scattered shrubs afforded, and opened fire on every embrasure. Among them Harry had no difficulty in recognizing the burly figure of Aglionby. Word was passed round among the defenders to make no reply. The enemy were at present too far off to do much damage, or for the fire of the garrison to be effective. A few minutes later Harry, who had posted himself on the keep, so that while invisible himself he could see everything, observed a small body of men emerge from the copse, bearing a number of narrow palisades, consisting, as he discovered on their nearer approach, of thin logs roughly bound together. When they had come within about two hundred yards of the castle, the main body of the enemy directed a more continuous fire upon the battlements and loopholes, many advancing close up to the edge of the fosse. Still there was no reply from the defenders. The bridge-bearers came up at a slow run.

Harry had disposed of his little force as follows. Three men were stationed on the top of the keep, four at loopholes on the stairways half-way up each side, five behind the barricade of stones in the gateway, and one to carry orders from his own position on the keep to the men below. As soon as he saw the bridge-bearers approaching he instructed his dragoons to fire when he gave the word, but only at the men carrying the palisades. The extemporized bridge was in four sections, each about two feet across, and carried by six men.

The twenty-four came on, halted at the brink of the gully, and prepared to raise their palisades. Then Harry gave the word. The troopers below had been instructed to fire at the left-hand sections, those above at the right-hand sections. At the word they sprang up, thrust their muzzles through the embrasures and loopholes, and, undeterred by the patter of the enemy's bullets around them, took deliberate aim. The effect was all that Harry had hoped. The range was short; the men were old campaigners of iron nerve, and almost every shot told. Two or three men in each section of the bridge-bearers fell; the rest, dismayed by the fate of their comrades, loosened their hold on the palisades, which dropped back on to the farther side of the fosse. There was a rush among the bolder spirits to supply their places, and Aglionby himself, his red face purple with fury and excitement, threw himself at the head of his men, who strove with desperate haste to raise the palisades once more. But there was no cessation of the fire from the walls. Harry had taken the precaution of collecting from the stock of arms four muskets for each man, so that they needed to waste no time in reloading. No sooner had the palisades begun to rise again than a second fusillade burst forth from the castle; again the unwieldy poles fell clattering to the ground; again the men who had survived rushed back out of range. Aglionby and one or two others at first refused to budge, and took shelter behind the timber; but when they found themselves deserted they at length scoured away after the rest, and the whole force drew off.

"Fire no more," cried Harry. "Let them look to their wounded."

Finding that the firing from the castle had ceased, a party of the enemy ventured to the edge of the fosse and removed the hapless men there, some stark dead, others wounded more or less severely. Half a dozen men remained on watch at points surrounding the castle; the rest withdrew to the copse; and the members of the garrison, not one of whom was hurt, rejoiced in the repulse of this first assault, and went in relays to eat the meal which Otto the landlord had prepared for them.

No further movement of the enemy was observable. Max suggested that they had encamped in a large open glade within the wood. As night drew on, a slight glow above the tree-tops and thin columns of smoke proclaimed that camp fires had been lighted. Evidently, then, the enemy had not relinquished their hope of recapturing the castle. They were, of course, aware that its present garrison could not escape, for the plank bridge could not be collected and replaced unobserved; without it the inmates could only leave on foot, and they would thus easily be overtaken by the horsemen.

Harry sat down with Fanshawe and Buckley to eat his supper and discuss the situation. He was most apprehensive of a night-attack.

"They would have far better chances than by day," he said, "for their numbers would tell against us, and we should have to divide our force so as to guard points that might be threatened at any moment."

"But the battlements are inaccessible," said Fanshawe.

"The tower by which I escaped, you remember, is not. 'Tis difficult of approach, indeed, but not impossible to resolute men. I should have to leave at least one man to guard the postern. Of course, I shall block up the underground entrance by the tunnel; a few stones piled on the trap will prevent it from being lifted from below. But in the darkness 'twill not be so easy to hinder the enemy from throwing a bridge across the fosse: that is most to be feared."

"Defend it with a mine," suggested Buckley.

"A good thought!"

"And easy to do. The soil at the edge of the fosse will be soft: dig a hole and bury half a bag of powder in it. Pack it tightly with earth and stones; you can lead a train of powder through the barricade into the courtyard."

"Take care it is out of the reach of stray sparks from the men's matches," said Fanshawe, "or there'll be an explosion too soon and all spoilt."

"You're good counsellors, both of you. We'll make something of this defence among us."

Harry waited until dusk before carrying out Buckley's suggestion, in order that his movements might not be seen by the enemy. Having removed several stones from the barricade, he set two men to dig a hole near the gateway, filled it with a large charge of powder, and rammed down the earth upon it, taking care that several large stones were placed near the surface. Then the barricade was restored, and the garrison rearranged, only two men being now left in the keep, the rest being ordered to take up their position in the courtyard.

These arrangements had only just been completed, and those of the dragoons who were not on watch had just turned in, when a body of men was heard approaching. The garrison was instantly called to arms, and Harry went up to a coign of safety in the battlements to await events. It was almost pitch-dark: he dimly saw black masses moving about on the farther side of the fosse; but he had resolved not to waste powder and shot by opening fire with uncertain aim, and the enemy, finding their progress unmolested, came, as his ears told him, right up to the fosse. He wished he had some means of throwing a light on the scene, but knew of nothing in the castle sufficiently inflammable for the purpose.

After a time the noise outside, strikingly in contrast with the absolute silence in the castle itself, increased; the sound was like that of men slowly moving forward with heavy loads. Harry heard the clank of stone against stone, low whispers from across the fosse, less guarded commands from a short distance farther back, where work of some kind was evidently in progress. As Harry listened, his uncertainty as to what was going on at length became intolerable, and racking his brains to devise some means of making a light he at last hit upon an idea. The cushions of the coach were probably stuffed with hay; that would burn, and if smeared with grease might give a blaze strong enough to illumine the scene for a few moments. He immediately had the cushions ripped up, and found that their stuffing was as he had guessed. There was a good stock of candles in the store-room; some of these were melted down and the grease poured into the long bundle of hay made from the cushions. The mass was carried to the top of the keep, weighted with a stone, kindled, and thrown down. It fell steadily, the flame increasing as it gained impetus, casting a yellow glare upon the walls of the castle and its surroundings. Its appearance caused a sensation among the enemy: as it reached the ground several men rushed forward and stamped it out; but it had already fulfilled its purpose, and Harry had seen all that he wished to see.

At the brink of the fosse the enemy had constructed a low parapet: a large supply of stones was stacked about thirty yards to the rear, and men were still adding to the store from the scattered debris in the fosse and at the base of the ruined walls. The intention was clear: protected by the parapet, the enemy hoped to throw their bridge across the fosse in safety. With this knowledge Harry's fear of a night-attack was removed, for if the enemy intended to assault in the darkness the parapet would be unnecessary. They had apparently not cared to risk such an enterprise. The bridge would be none too wide even in daylight for the passage of a body of men rushing pell-mell over it. The attack, then, was probably to be deferred until dawn. Having completed their task the enemy by and by drew off, and in anticipation of desperate work on the morrow Harry went to snatch a brief sleep, leaving Max as responsible head of the watch.

In the cool glimmering dawn of that June morning Harry was awakened by Max with the news that the brigands were moving from the copse. He hastened at once to his post, and saw that the parapet extended for some twenty yards along the farther side of the fosse, with a gap in the centre protected by a traverse. The enemy came forward rapidly, took up the palisades they had vainly endeavoured to throw across the fosse on the previous day, and under cover of the parapet began to rear them. As Harry had feared, musketry fire from the castle was almost wholly ineffectual: only the men on the top of the keep got an occasional chance as the besiegers incautiously moved away from their breastwork, thus exposing the upper part of their bodies. The long palisades were slowly reared on end, and lowered as slowly across the fosse, till the end nearer to Harry rested on the base of the barricade beneath the archway. When the last section was in its place, the fosse was spanned by a bridge wide enough to allow four men to cross it abreast.