CHAPTER XVII.
STALHANSKE'S FINNS.
It was my ill luck, on that day which began so inauspiciously, to seetwo shadows: one on a man's face, the Waldgrave's, and of that I needsay no more; the other, the shadow of a man's body, an odd, sinisteroutline, crooked and strange and tremulous, that I came upon in aremote corner of the camp, to which I had wandered in my perplexity; aplace where a few stunted trees ran down a steep bank to the river. Ihad never been to this place before, and, after a glance which showedme that it was the common sink and rubbish-bed of the camp, I wasturning moodily away, when first this shadow and then the body whichcast it caught my eye. The latter hung from the branch of an oldgnarled thorn, the feet a few inches from the ground. A shudderingkind of curiosity led me to go up and look at the dead man's face,which was doubled up on his breast; and then the desire to test thenerves, which is common to most men, induced me to stand staring athim.
The time was two hours after noon, and there were few personsmoving. The camp was half asleep. Heat, and flies, and dust wereeverywhere--and this gruesome thing. The body was stripped, and thefeatures were swollen and disfigured; but, after a moment's thought, Irecognized them, and saw that I had before me the poor wretch who hadappealed to my lady's compassion after the shooting-match, and to whomthe general had opened his hand so freely. The grim remarks I had thenheard recurred now, and set me shuddering. If any doubt still remainedin my mind, it was dissipated a moment later by a placard which hadonce hung round the dead man's neck, but now lay in the dust at hisfeet. I turned it over. Chalked on it in large letters were the words'Beggars, beware!'
I felt at first, on making the discovery, only horror and indignation,and a violent loathing of the camp. But these feelings soon passed,and left me free to consider how the deed touched us. Could I proveit? Could I bring it home to the general to my lady's satisfaction,beyond denial or escape, and so open her eyes? And if I could, wouldit be wise, by doing so, to rouse his anger while she remained in thecamp and in General Tzerclas' power? I might only hasten thecatastrophe.
I found this a hard nut to crack, and was still puzzling over it, withmy eyes on the senseless form which was already so far out of mythoughts, when a heavy hand fell on my shoulder and a harsh voicegrated on my ear.
'Well, Master Steward, a penny for your thoughts! They should be worthhaving, to judge by the way you rub your chin.'
I started and looked round. The speaker was Captain Ludwig, who, withtwo of his fellows, had come up behind me while I mused. Something inhis tone rather than his words--a note of menace--warned me to becareful; while the glum looks of his companions, as they glanced fromme to the dead man, added point to the hint, and filled my mind with asudden sense of danger. I had learned more than I had been intended tolearn; I had found out something I had not been intended to find out.The very quietness and sunshine and the solitude of the place addedhorror to the moment. It was all I could do to hide my discomfitureand face them without flinching.
'My thoughts?' I said, forcing a grin. 'They were not very difficultto guess. A sharp shrift, and a short rope? What else should a manthink here?'
'Ay?' Ludwig said, watching me closely with his eyes half closed andhis lips parted.
He would say no more, and I was forced to go on. 'It is not the firsttime I have seen a man dancing on nothing!' I said recklessly; 'but itgave me a turn.'
He kicked the placard. 'You are a scholar,' he said. 'What is this?'
My face grew hot. I dared not deny my learning, for I did not know howmuch he knew; but, for the nonce, I wished heartily that I had neverbeen taught to read.
'That?' I said, affecting a jovial tone to cover my momentaryhesitation. 'A seasonable warning. They are as thick here as nuts inautumn. We could spare a few more, for the matter of that.'
'Ay, but this one?' he retorted, coolly tapping the dead man with alittle stick he carried, and then turning to look me in the face. 'Youhave seen him before.'
I made a great show of staring at the body, but I suppose I played mypart ill, for before I could speak Ludwig broke in with a brutallaugh.
'Chut, man!' he said, with a sneer of contempt; 'you know him; I seeyou do. And knew him all along. Well, if fools will poke their nosesinto things that do not concern them, it is not my affair. I musttrouble you for your company awhile.'
'Whither?' I said, setting my teeth together and frowning at him.
'To my master,' he replied, with a curt nod. 'Don't say you won't,' hecontinued with meaning, 'for he is not one to be denied.'
I looked from one to another of the three men, and for a moment thedesperate clinging to liberty, which makes even the craven bold, setmy hands tingling and sent the blood surging to my head. But reasonspoke in time. I saw that the contest was too unequal, the advantageof a few minutes' freedom too trivial, since the general must sooneror later lay his hand on me; and I crushed down the impulse to resist.
'What scares you, comrades?' I said, laughing savagely. They hadrecoiled a foot. 'Do you see a ghost or a Swede, that you look sopale? Your general wants me? Then let him have me. Lead on! I won'trun away, I warrant you.'
Ludwig nodded as he placed himself by my side. 'That is the right wayto take it,' he said. 'I thought that you might be going to be a fool,comrade.'
'Like our friend there,' I said dryly, pointing to the senseless formwe were leaving. 'He made a fuss, I suppose?'
Ludwig shrugged his shoulders. 'No,' he answered, 'not he so much; buthis wife. Donner! I think I hear her screams now. And she cursed us!Ah!'
I shuddered, and after that was silent. But more than once before wereached the general's quarters the frantic desire to escape seized me,and had to be repressed. I felt that this was the beginning of theend, the first proof of the strong grasp which held us all helpless. Ithought of my lady, I thought of Marie Wort, and I could have shriekedlike a woman; for I was powerless like a woman--gripped in a hand Icould not resist.
The camp grilling and festering in the sunshine--how I hated it! Itseemed an age I had lived in its dusty brightness, an age of vaguefears and anxieties. I passed through it now in a feverish dream,until an exclamation, uttered by my companion as we turned into thestreet, aroused me. The street was full of loiterers, all standing ingroups, and all staring at a little band of horsemen who satmotionless in their saddles in front of the general's quarters. For amoment I took these to be the general's staff. Then I saw that theywere dressed all alike, that their broad, ruddy faces were alike, thatthey held themselves with the same unbending precision, and seemed, ina word, to be ten copies of one stalwart man. Near them, a servant onfoot was leading two horses up and down, and they and he had the airof being on show.
Captain Ludwig, holding me fast by the arm, stopped at the first groupof starers we came to. 'Who are these?' he asked gruffly.
The man he addressed turned round, eager to impart his knowledge.'Finns!' he said; 'from head-quarters--Stalhanske's Finns. No less,captain.'
My companion whistled. 'What are they doing here?' he asked.
The other shook his head. 'I don't know,' he said. 'Their leader iswith the general. What do you think of them, Master Ludwig?'
But Ludwig only grunted, looking with disparaging eyes at themotionless riders, whose air betrayed a certain consciousness of theirfame and the notice which they were exciting. From steel cap tospurred boot, they showed all metal and leather. Nothing gay, nothinggaudy; not a chain or a sash differenced one from another. Grim,stern, and silent, they stared before them. Had no one named the Kingof Sweden's great regiment, I had known that I was looking no longeron brigands, but on soldiers--on part of the iron line that atBreitenfeld broke the long repute of years, and swept Pappenheim fromthe hillside like chaff before the storm.
After hesitating a moment, Ludwig went forward a few paces, as if toenter the house, taking me with him. Then he paused. At the sameinstant the man who was leading the two horses turned. His eye lit onme,
and I saw an extraordinary change come over the fellow's face. Hestopped short and, pulling up his horses, stared at me. It seemed tome, too, that I had seen him before, and I returned his look; butwhile I was trying to remember where, the door of the general'squarters opened. Two or three men who were loitering before it,stepped quickly aside, and a tall, stalwart man came out, followed byGeneral Tzerclas himself.
I looked at the foremost, and in a twinkling recognized him. It wasVon Werder. But an extraordinary change had come over the traveller.He was still plainly dressed, in a buff coat, with untanned boots, aleather sword-belt, and a grey hat with a red feather; and in all ofthese there was nothing to catch the eye. But his air and manner as hespoke to his companion were no longer those of an inferior, while hisstern eye, as it travelled over the crowd in the street, expressedcold and steady contempt.
As the servant brought up his horse, he spoke to his companion. 'Youare sure that you can do it--with these?' he said, flicking hisriding-whip towards the silent throng.
'You may consider it done,' the general answered rather grimly.
'Good! I am glad. Well, man, what is it?'
He spoke the last words to his servant. The man pointed to me and saidsomething. Von Werder looked at me. In a moment every one looked atme. Then Von Werder swung himself into his saddle, and turned toGeneral Tzerclas.
'That is the man, I am told,' he said, pointing suddenly to me withhis whip.
'He is at your service,' the general answered with a shrug ofindifference.'
In an instant Von Werder's horse was at my side. 'A word with you, myman,' he said sharply. 'Come with me.'
Ludwig had hold of my arm still. He had not loosed me, and at this heinterposed. 'My lord,' he cried to the general, 'this man--I havesomething to----'
'Silence, fool!' Tzerclas growled. 'And stand aside, if you value yourskin!'
Ludwig let me go; immediately, as if an angel had descended to speakfor me, the crowd parted, and I was free--free and walking away downthe street by the side of the stranger, who continued to look at mefrom time to time, but still kept silence. When we had gone in thisfashion a couple of hundred paces or more, and were clear of thecrowd, he seemed no longer able to control himself, though he lookedlike a man apt at self-command. He waved his escort back and reined inhis horse.
'You are the man to whom I talked the other night,' he said, fixing mewith his eyes--'the Countess of Heritzburg's steward?'
I replied that I was. His face as he looked down at me, with his backto his following, betrayed so much agitation that I wondered more andmore. Was he going to save us? Could he save us? Who was he? What didit all mean? Then his next question scattered all these thoughts anddoubled my surprise.
'You had a chain stolen from you,' he said harshly, 'the night I layin your camp?'
I stared at him with my mouth open. 'A chain?' I stammered.
'Ay, fool, a chain!' he replied, his eyes glaring, his cheeks swellingwith impatience. 'A gold chain--with links like walnuts.'
'It is true,' I said stupidly. 'I had. But----'
'Where did you get it?'
I looked away. To answer was easy; to refrain from answering, with hiseye upon me, hard. But I thought of Marie Wort. I did not know how thechain had come into her hands, and I asked him a question in return.
'Have you the chain?' I said.
'I have!' he snarled. And then in a sudden outburst of wrath he cried,'Listen, fool! And then perhaps you will answer me more quickly. I amHugo of Leuchtenstein, Governor of Cassel and Marburg, and Presidentof the Landgrave's Council. The chain was mine and came back to me.The rogue who stole it from you, and joined himself to my company,blabbed of it, and where he got it. He let my men see it. He would notgive it up, and they killed him. Will that satisfy you?' he continued,his face on fire with impatience. 'Then tell me all--all, man, or itwill be the worse for you! My time is precious, and I cannot stay!'
I uncovered myself. 'Your excellency,' I stammered, 'the chain wasentrusted to me by a--a woman.'
'A woman?' he exclaimed, his eyes lightening. 'Man, you are wringingmy heart. A woman with a child?'
I nodded.
'A child three years old?'
'About that, your excellency.' On which, to my astonishment, hecovered his face with both his hands, and I saw the strong man's frameheave with ill-suppressed emotion. 'My God, I thank thee!' I heard himwhisper; and if ever words came from the heart, those did. It was aminute or more before he dared to uncover his face, and then his eyeswere moist and his features worked with emotion.
'You shall be rewarded!' he said unsteadily. 'Do not fear. And nowtake me to him--to her.'
I was in a maze of astonishment, but I had sense enough to understandthe order. We had halted scarcely more than a hundred yards from mylady's quarters, and I led the way thither, comprehending little morethan that something advantageous had happened to us. At the door hesprang from his horse, and taking me by the arm, as if he were afraidto suffer me out of his reach, he entered, pushing me before him.
The principal room was empty, and I judged my lady was out. I cried'Marie! Marie!' softly; and then he and I stood listening. Thesunshine poured in through the windows; the house was still with thestillness of afternoon. A bird in a cage in the corner pecked at thebars. Outside the bits jingled, and a horse pawed the roadimpatiently.
'Marie!' I cried. 'Marie!'
She came in at last through a door which led to the back of the house,and I stepped forward to speak to her. But the moment I saw herclearly, the words died on my lips. The pallor of her face, thedisorder of her hair struck me dumb. I forgot our business, mycompanion, all. 'What is it?' was all I could say. 'What is thematter?'
'The child!' she cried, her dark eyes wild with anxiety. 'The child!It is lost! It is lost and gone. I cannot find it!'
'The child? Gone?' I answered, my voice rising almost to a shout, inmy surprise. 'It is missing? Now?'
'I cannot find it,' she answered monotonously. 'I left it for a momentat the back there. It was playing on the grass. Now it is gone.'
I looked at. Count Leuchtenstein. He was staring at the girl,listening and watching, his brow contracted, his face pale. But Isuppose that this sudden alarm, this momentary disappearance did notaffect him, from whom the child had been so long absent, as itaffected us; for his first words referred to the past.
'This child, woman?' he said in his deep voice, which shook despiteall his efforts. 'When you found it, it had a chain round its neck?'
But Marie was so wrapped up in her sudden loss that she answered himwithout thought, listening the while. 'Yes,' she said mechanically,'it had.'
'Where did you find it, then--the child?' he asked eagerly.
'In the forest by Vach,' she replied, in the same indifferent tone.
'Was it alone?'
'It was with a dead woman,' she answered. She was listening still,with a strained face--listening for the pattering of the little feet,the shrill music of the piping voice. Only half of her mind was withus. Her hands opened and closed continually with anxiety; she held herhead on one side, her ear to the door. When the Count went to putanother question, she turned upon him so fiercely, I hardly knew her.'Hush!' she said, 'will you? They are here, but they have not foundhim. They have not found him!' And she was right; though I, whose earswere not sharpened by love, did not discern this until two men, whohad been left at home with her, and who had been out to search, camein empty-handed and with scared looks. They had hunted on all sidesand found no trace of the child, and, certain that it could not havestrayed far itself, pronounced positively that it had been kidnapped.
Marie at that burst into weeping so pitiful, that I was glad to sendthe men out, bidding them make a larger circuit and inquire in thecamp. When they were gone, I turned to Count Leuchtenstein to see howhe took it. I found him leaning against the wall, his face grave,dark, and thoughtful.
'There seems a fatality in it!' he muttered, meeting my eyes, butspeaking to himself. 'That
it should be lost again--at this moment!Yet, God's will be done. He who sent the chain to my hands can stilltake care of the child.'
He paused a moment in deep thought, and then, advancing to Marie Wort,who had thrown herself into a chair and was sobbing passionately withher face on the table, he touched her on the shoulder.
'Good girl!' he said kindly. 'Good girl! But doubtless the child issafe. Before night it will be found.'
She sprang up and faced him, her cheeks flaming with anger. I supposethe questions he had put to her had made no distinct impression on hermind.
'Oh,' she cried, in the voice of a shrew, 'how you prate! By night itwill be found, will it? How do you know? But the child is nothing toyou--nothing!'
'Girl,' he said solemnly, yet gently, 'the child is my child--my onlychild, and the hope of my house.'
She looked at him wildly. 'Who are you, then?' she said, her voicesinking almost to a whisper.
'I am his father,' he answered; when I looked to hear him state hisname and titles. 'And as his father, I thank and bless you for allthat you have done for him.'
'His mother?' she whispered, open-eyed with awe.
'His mother is dead. She died three years ago,' he answered gravely.'And now tell me your name, for I must go.'
'You must go!' she exclaimed. 'You will go--you can go--and your childlost and wandering?'
'Yes,' he replied, with a dignity which silenced her, 'I can, for Ihave other and greater interests to guard than those of my house, andI dare not be negligent. He may be found to-morrow, but what I have todo to-day cannot be done to-morrow. See, take that,' he continued moregently, laying a heavy purse on the table before her. 'It is for you,for your own use--for your dowry, if you have a lover. And rememberalways that, in the house of Hugo of Leuchtenstein, at Cassel, orMarburg, or at the Schloss by Leuchtenstein, you will find a home andshelter, and stout friends whenever you need them. Now give me yourname.'
She stared at him dumfounded and was silent. I told him Marie Wort ofMunich, at present in attendance on the Countess of Heritzburg; and heset it down in his tablets.
'Good,' he said. And then in his stern, grave fashion he turned to me.'Master Steward,' he said, in a measured tone which neverthelessstirred my blood, 'are you an ambitious man? If so, search for mychild, and bring him to Cassel or Marburg, or my house, and I willfulfil your ambition. Would you have a command, I will see to it; or afarm, it shall be yours. You can do for me, my friend' he continuedstrenuously, laying his hand on my arm, 'what in this stress of warand statecraft I cannot do for myself. I have a hundred at my call,but they are not here; and by to-night I must be ten leagues hence, byto-morrow night beyond the Main. Yet God, I believe,' he went on,uncovering himself and speaking with reverent earnestness, 'whobrought me to this place, and permitted me to hear again of my son,will not let His purpose fail because He calls me elsewhere.'
And he maintained this grave composure to the last. A man more worthyof his high repute, not in Hesse only, but in the Swedish camp, atDresden, and Vienna, I thought that I had never seen. Yet still underthe mask I discerned the workings of a human heart. His eye, as heturned to go, wandered round the room; I knew that it was seeking sometrace of his boy's presence. On the threshold he halted suddenly; Iknew that he was listening. But no sound rewarded him. He noddedsternly to me and went out.
I followed to hold his stirrup. The Finland riders, sitting upright intheir saddles, looked as if they had not moved an eyelash in ourabsence. As I had left them so I found them. He gave a short, sharpword of command; a sudden jingling of bridles followed; the troopwalked forward, broke into a trot, and in a twinkling disappeared downthe road in a cloud of dust.
Then, and not till then, I remembered that I had not said a word tohim about my lady's position. His personality and the loss of thechild had driven it from my mind. Now it recurred to me; but it wastoo late, and after stamping up and down in vexation for a while, Iturned and went into the house.
Marie Wort had fallen back into the old position at the table, and wassitting with her face on her arms, sobbing bitterly. I went up to herand saw the purse lying by her side.
'Come,' I said, trying awkwardly to cheer her, 'the child will befound, never fear. When my lady returns she will send to the general,and he will have it cried through the camp. It is sure to be found.And you have made a powerful friend.'
But she took no heed of me. She continued to weep; and her sobs hurtme. She seemed so small and lonely and helpless that I had not theheart to leave her by herself in the house and go out into thesunshine to search. And so--I scarcely know how it came about--in amoment she was sobbing out her grief on my shoulder and I waswhispering in her ear.
Of love? of our love? No, for to have spoken of that while she weptfor the child, would have seemed to me no better than sacrilege. And,besides, I think that we took it for granted. For when her sobspresently ceased, and she lay quiet, listening, and I found her softdark hair on my shoulder, I kissed it a hundred times; and still shelay silent, her cheek against my rough coat. Our eyes had spokenmorning and evening, at dawn when we met, and at night when we parted;and now that this matter of the chain was settled, it seemed fittingthat she should come to me for comfort--without words.
At length she drew herself away from me, her cheek dark and her eyesdowncast. 'Not now,' she said, gently stopping me--for then I think Ishould have spoken. 'Will you please to go out and search? No, I willnot grieve.'
'But your purse!' I reminded her. She was leaving it on the table, andit was not safe there. 'You should put it in a place of safety,Marie.'
She took it up and very simply placed it in my hands. 'He said it wasfor my--dowry,' she whispered, blushing. And then she fled awayshamefaced to her room.
My Lady Rotha: A Romance Page 18
