The Outlaws of Falkensteig, Page 3

  A faint, half-stifled woman's cry rang in my ears. “To me, Ronshausen! To the rescue!"

  After them I dashed. Through the intervening trees, across the glade, and round the granite boulders I went, with set teeth and bloody spurs, at a mad pace that might have earned me a short shrift at any moment had my horse but chanced to founder. In front of me ran an almost level road, and along this, some thirty yards ahead, rode Kervenheim. His hat had fallen off, and his long, fair locks fluttered behind him in the breeze his speed created.

  Yet, in spite of the double load upon his horse, I did not gain upon him, for his mount was fresh, whilst mine had ridden hard that day, and was beginning to snort in a manner that made me fear a halt at any moment.

  "Stoffel!” I thundered. “Stoffel!"

  The next minute a shot rang out, fired from the tree on my right, and a bullet whistled past me. Then came another, and yet another. I cursed, and drove my spurs deeper. My horse, infuriated by the punishment, plunged, then reared, and I had but time to leap from the saddle before it toppled over with a bullet in its breast. I did not pause to look to right or left, but, taking my sword under my arm, I ran on as fast as my stiff knees and heavy boots would let me. Behind me came a thunder of hoofs. I turned to look, and, to my joy, I beheld Stoffel and the others advancing towards me at a stretched gallop.

  A musket cracked somewhere; then came half-a-dozen shots; then a whole regiment seemed to have let fly a volley. I glanced behind me again. Stoffel still rode a good ten yards in front of his men, but behind him I espied more than one riderless horse.

  There was a bridge before me. I sprang upon it, and pushed blindly on. Kervenheim was but a blurred shadow in the twilight, waxing every moment less distinct. My gorge rose at my powerlessness, and, in my rage, I cursed and raved and wept as I ran.

  But my feet had scarcely left the bridge when out from the trees on either side of that dusty mountain road came a rush of armed men. In an instant I was seized, flung down, and disarmed before I could draw. Then kneeling upon me they bound me hand and foot; a gag was thrust into my mouth, and I was left there on my back like a trussed fowl to stare up at the blue sky wherein a star was here and there becoming visible, whilst my captors turned to hold the bridge against my men. The galloping company drew nearer, and presently the hoofs rang out upon the bridge as they came fighting their way across. Shouts, oaths, groans broke forth, mingling with the fearful shrieks of the wounded animals.

  Presently there was a rush towards the spot where I lay. Half-a-dozen brigands came struggling with a stout knave, who gave their twelve hands more work than they could comfortably deal with. But in the end they bore him down, and pinioned him, then flung him down beside me. It was poor Stoffel. He, too, was gagged and could not speak, but the eloquence of his flashing eye was terrifying.

  And there side by side we lay until presently the fighting ceased, and we knew that those of ours who were not dead had run. It mattered little. The dawn, I doubted not, would find us hanging from the Falken's gibbet, whereof I had heard some gruesome stories—and my heart was heavy within me, not for myself, but for those I had brought upon this mad errand.

  * * * *

  Stoffel and I spent the night in a dismal dungeon of the old castle, and dawn saw us cold and despondent. We were ready to meet the end we thought in store for us, but our preparations differed somewhat. I sat upon the solitary wooden bench and strove to remember an odd prayer or two which my mother had taught me in childhood. Stoffel stalked the chamber with bent head and racked his mind for long forgotten imprecations.

  But, when presently my mind wandered back to things material, my thoughts naturally reverted to my lady, and I groaned aloud at my folly in allowing her to accompany us. For us—Stoffel and I—it mattered little. A short shrift is reckoned in a soldier's wage, and death—although not over sweet when one is young—is soon dealt with. For her, however, it was different. She would not even be vouchsafed the mercy of dying. She would be bidden to live—to live in the power of the lawless bandit of Falkensteig.

  Vainly did I try to console myself with the argument that Kervenheim was of noble blood and a gentleman. I realised in all its fullness that a man who for two years had led the reckless life of the Lord of Falkensteig, and mingled with such associates as had been his, would scarcely be over nice in his ways and manners.

  My wretched brooding was at last cut short by the opening of our door, and the advent of him who officiated as our gaoler.

  "Which of you calls himself Otto von Ronshausen?” the outlaw inquired rudely. And when I told him that ‘twas I, he bid me go with him to wait upon the Lord of Falkensteig.

  Kervenheim nodded pleasantly as I entered the Rittersaal where he awaited me.

  "Welcome to Falkensteig, my dear Ronshausen.” he cried in a jovial voice. “This visit of His Majesty's prime favourite is an honour I had never dared to hope for, albeit I had often thought of it as one thinks of a castle in Spain. Come, we'll crack a bottle over it."

  "'Twould suit my mood better to crack a head over it.” I answered surlily. "Herr Gott, sir, are you so lost to all sense of decency, and to the principles taught you, and bred in you, that you can make a jest of it? If there is a spark of honour left beneath that doublet, which I make no doubt you have filched from the packhorse of some travelling tailor, let us settle this matter between ourselves. Give me my sword, and take a turn with me outside."

  He answered me with a burst of laughter.

  "Plague take you, sir,” he cried. “I am not minded to kill you; you are worth more to me alive. For the rest, if you are tired of life, there are other means of being rid of it besides my sword—although ‘twould be a scurvy trick to die before you have served your turn with me."

  "And what may that be?” I inquired, curiosity overcoming the anger which his taunt excited.

  "'Tis said that the King loves you very dearly."

  "I have heard it said,” I answered idly.

  "And, therefore, it is to be supposed that he would pay a high ransom for you."

  "Kervenheim, you disgust me,” I cried. "Himmel! I have associated with you, I have sat at table with you, I have thrown a main with you, but perdition take me if I would willingly stand in the same room with one who can think of such a Judas bargain—a traffic of flesh and blood that a Jew would scorn!"

  A dark flush mounted to his brow, and his blue eyes grew hard and terrible. For a moment I thought he would have struck me.

  "Silence, you fool!” he muttered harshly. “And if the wines of Ludwig's table have not addled your brains utterly, reflect. Who was the first to enter upon the game you and I have played? You have sat at table with me, say you. Yet you did not scruple to ask the King for a troop of horse, that you might come and capture your former associate, for whom a maid who pleased your fancy had set a trap. Did I ever wrong you, Ronshausen? What grudge had you against me? Think you that had you been outlawed and left at war with all the world to fight bitterly for your existence—think you that I would have done what you have done at a mere woman's bidding? Faugh! my lord, methinks the Judas bargain lay with you."

  What could I answer him? Every word he spoke was true, although until then I had not seen the matter so. I had regarded him merely as an enemy of King and State, against whom I was justified, as a loyal subject, to wage war, without pausing to think that my action was dictated by neither loyalty nor honour, but by a woman's tongue.

  Strangely enough, as I realised all this, the Lady Hilda seemed to sink in my estimation, and I loved her less from that moment for having dragged me into so unworthy an enterprise. My thoughts flew to Freda von Horst—so gentle, so good, so innocent. She would not have brought me to play the tipstaff.

  And yet was I not more to blame than the Lady Hilda? Was it not I, myself, who proffered to undertake this business? She had not bidden me; she had not even suggested that I should. What were her words? Yes, I remembered them—"Until he whom they call the lord of Falkensteig be broug
ht to Schwerlingen, Hilda von Barnabatt will listen to no wooings."

  I was unjust; she was not to blame. And then the memory of her own unfortunate position rushed in upon my mind, and almost unconsciously—

  "What have you done with her?” I blurted out.

  "With whom?"

  "The Countess of Barnabatt. Where is she?"

  He laughed softly.

  "On her way to Schwerlingen,” he answered.

  "You have set her free!” I exclaimed eagerly.

  He picked up his hat from the table and pressed it over his locks.

  "She has gone to dictate the terms of your ransom to the King. ‘Tis said he loves you. I trust he does, for the lands of Kervenheim, my name and honour are your ransom. Within three days either I ride to Schwerlingen to receive my pardon from His Majesty, or you, my friend, will hang from yonder pine tree."

  I began to understand.

  "She has gone to propose these terms?” I gasped.

  "And to crave the King's permission to become my wife,” he said.

  My senses swam beneath that terrific blow of disillusionment.

  "God's curse!” I cried, “I have been fooled?"

  He looked at me sadly for a moment, then uttered a sigh.

  "I would that it had been otherwise, Ronshausen, yet what is done is done. Do not blame her. She loved me very dearly, and so forgot her pride to help me seize the one man in all Sachsenberg for whom I could demand the ransom I have mentioned. Still"—he sighed again—"I would that it had been otherwise."

  * * * *

  But I, Otto von Ronshausen, as I stroke my wife's fair head, and look into her soft, brown eyes, am glad that it was not otherwise, for the King paid my ransom promptly and reinstated Kervenheim, who has since become one of his most loyal champions.

  D'AUBEVILLE'S ENTERPRISE

  I had been warned that His Majesty's mood was passing short that morning, and it was not without some trepidation that I crossed the ante-chamber in the wake of the lackey who had summoned me from my guard-room.

  I found the King closeted with my Lord of Ronshausen, and the moment I stood in his presence I knew that my informer had not exaggerated the condition of the royal nerves. His face was flushed, and the usual good-humoured expression was marred by a frown, which became a scowl the moment he set eyes on me.

  "How is this, booby?” he cried, turning upon the lackey. “Why do you bring me Lieutenant Stoffel? Did I not say Captain von Grünhain?"

  "Will your Majesty graciously condescend to learn that the Ritter von Grünhain is abed with an attack of gout, which prevents him from setting foot on the ground?"

  "Bah! It seems my guards are in want of a new Captain whose feet are sound. Well,” he thundered, blazing out again upon the luckless servant, “did I bid you wait? Will you stand there all day, dummkopf?"

  The wretch retreated with alacrity before the storm of august irritability, and was lost to view a second later, in the folds of the portière. When he was gone the King recovered somewhat, and went over to the window by which my Lord of Ronshausen was standing. For some moments they conversed together in tones so low that, saving stray oaths which His Majesty rapped out at intervals, I caught nothing of what was said. At last, with a final gesture of impatience, Ludwig IV turned to me once more.

  "So,” he said, “your captain is unable to attend us! You have heard the news?"

  "Concerning the raid upon Moritzau, sire?"

  "Aye, what other? Heilige Jungfrau, but I thought to have done with those cursed Falkensteig outlaws when I pardoned Kervenheim. I looked for a disbandment, instead of which I learn that they have got themselves a new leader. Know you aught of this Felsheim, whom they have elected for their captain?"

  "The Ritter von Grünhain informs me, sire, that he is a ruined gamester of Württemberg, and that he joined the outlaws of Falkensteig about a year ago. He was for a while Kervenheim's lieutenant. ‘Tis said he is a very daring and reckless man."

  "Aye, and a facetious one,” murmured Ronshausen, “to parody your Majesty's privilege of levying taxes."

  "By the Holy Grave, the laugh may be his to-day,” quoth the King savagely, “but when he is dangling on the Schwarzenbaum, the humor of it will be more apparent to me. Stoffel,” he added sharply, “get a score of men together, and see that you are in the saddle and ready to leave Schwerlingen in an hour."

  "Where shall I go, your Majesty?"

  "Where?” he ejaculated, with a fresh show of temper. “Where? To Moritzau—to the devil, wherever you please, so that you return with Felsheim or his carrion. You understand me now?"

  "Perfectly, sire; I go at once.” And seeing that it was dangerous to tarry in such an atmosphere, I bowed, and without more ado made shift to leave.

  "Stoffel,” he cried, as my hand touched the portière. “I shall offer a reward of five thousand crowns for this robber, dead or alive. Bring him to Schwerlingen and the reward shall be paid to you."

  I bowed in silence, and I had already one foot in the ante-chamber when again he called me back.

  "Stoffel—a plague on your impatience—if you bring him back, I'll make you Captain of my Guards, and pension old Grünhain—curse his gouty foot!"

  "Your Majesty overwhelms me. I shall do—"

  "Yes, yes. Go, man, don't stand there for ever. Away with you."

  In a breath he cursed my impatience and stormed at me for a sluggard because at his bidding I had lingered. In very truth his mood had scant sweetness in it that morning.

  An hour later, having exchanged my plumed hat for a steel cap, and armed myself as if bent upon foreign war, I rode through the streets of Schwerlingen at the head of my troop, and clattered out through the Heinrichsthor on to the road that led to Moritzau.

  We arrived there at noon the next day to be greeted with information that Felsheim had moved south, and that another raid had taken place the night before at the village of Fensbrücke. He was truly a daring knave to venture thus far from the Falkensteig stronghold.

  In the hills—or rather, on the Falkensteig—he could hold his own against any army without fear of capture. But to move further into the open, whilst the King's men were hot upon his track, and to thus run the risk of having his retreat cut off, was a bold stroke which I had not looked for.

  I dispatched a trooper immediately to Schwerlingen to beg the King to send me at least another score of men, and forthwith I rode on to Fensbrücke. We arrived there that evening, and the villagers hailed us gladly enough, for our coming meant protection—a thing whereof they need not have been so eager, for Felsheim had left them little that was worth protecting. Bearing this fact in mind, and also in virtue of certain news I gleaned concerning Felsheim's movements, we scarcely halted in the village, but pushed on that very night to the neighbouring town of Steinau, where for the while I set up my headquarters and awaited the troop I had solicited.

  I wove a strong web wherein to catch the outlaw—with the details of which I need not weary you—as, indeed, was my duty, being Lieutenant of the Guards, and, moreover, having had his capture intrusted to me. But there was more than duty in the ardour wherewith I went to work. There was a bright maid, with merry eyes and fair hair, who sat in Schwerlingen anxiously waiting to hear that Hans Stoffel had earned glory, five thousand crowns, and a Captaincy, and that he was riding to the capital to make her his wife. She was the Ritter von Grünhain's daughter, and the old knight had not looked over-graciously upon my suit. At the outset he had scowled upon it most damnably, but later he had suffered himself to promise that when I gained my Captaincy he would listen to me.

  And now my chance was come, and I was bent upon victory. In my heart I blessed Felsheim for affording me this opportunity, and I would bless him tenfold on the day that I took him to Schwerlingen to be hanged.

  For three days after my arrival at Steinau I was without news of Felsheim. Doubtless the knave thought well to make no sign that might draw attention to his whereabouts. Meanwhile I sent out my spie
s—mostly peasants whom I had enlisted into the service with the promise of a hundred crowns to the man who should bear me the news that led to Felsheim's capture.

  At last the troop arrived from Schwerlingen in command of a sergeant, who also brought me startling news of a rival who had entered the lists with me and engaged—in a wager of ten thousand crowns—that he would take Felsheim single-handed, save for such aid as he might levy at the eleventh hour for the purpose of making fast his man and conducting him to the Capital.

  The news bewildered me, and I was sore afraid that this intruder might rob me of my victory by forestalling me. Of the sergeant, howbeit, I asked with a laugh the name of this mad boaster.

  "'Tis a young French gentleman who arrived at Court on the very day of your departure, and who, I am told, having taken too much wine at table that evening, made the wager with my Lord of Ronshausen. At first His Majesty would lend no ear to the affair; but in the end the combined efforts of this Frenchman and my Lord of Ronshausen—who is greatly in need of money—induced him to grant M. d'Aubeville the warrant he craved, and whereby he is empowered to requisition the assistance for which he stipulated in his wager, should he stand in need of it."

  "Yet he calls it a single-handed business?"

  "Inasmuch as he is to plot, and trap Felsheim unaided. I learn that he is a bold and adventurous gentleman who performed great deeds of valour at La Rochelle in his own country, and who is held in high esteem by Louis XIV."

  "He will have need of his valour in this enterprise.” I muttered. “Did you see him in Schwerlingen?"

  "Nay, he left on the very night of his arrival, and immediately on obtaining the King's warrant."

  "Then where is he now?” I cried in amazement.

  "He has not since been heard of."

  I laughed at this, for it seemed most possible that he had lost himself or fallen into the hands of the bandits in his eagerness to be at close quarters with their captain.

  I had finished my noonday meal that very day, and was still at table in the common room of the “Schwarzen Stier,” where I had taken up my lodging, when the door which led to the stairs was opened, and a tall, well-built man of florid countenance entered the apartment. He wore a leather jerkin over his doublet, long riding-boots of untanned leather, and carried at his side a sword of prodigious length and stoutness. A long red feather drooped over the brim of his brown hat and mingled with his hair, to which it was near akin in colour.