The king's ring

CHAPTER IV.

LADY REGINA'S OATH.

The next day was one of hot and furious battle. The Swedes bombarded the castle with a heavy fire, and drew near to the walls under the cover of earthworks. The Imperial troops fought well. Time was precious for both sides; in a few days Tilly would be in the rear of Gustaf Adolf; a possible thunder-bolt to the Swedes; a certain relief for the garrison.

Lady Regina and her attendants were now shut up in the inner rooms, and could no longer view the extraordinary spectacle of the siege. But there was much to do within. Large numbers of wounded had to be nursed; the young lady moved like a spirit of light from couch to couch in the armoury, where the wounded had been placed; her healing hands poured balm on their wounds; her compassionate voice poured consolation into their hearts. She spoke of the Holy Faith for which they suffered; promised honours and rewards to those who recovered, and eternal salvation to the dying.

The heavy artillery thunder made the walls tremble. Lady Regina suddenly remembered that she had left her rosary up in the little turret, and it was now needed for the prayers of the dying. She had already reached the threshold of the armoury, when a terrific crash shook the castle to its very base. Pale with fear, she hesitated, and at the same moment the Count of Lichtenstein rushed in.

"What has happened?" exclaimed the young lady.

"Thank the saints, my fair cousin, that you took my advice yesterday. The turret has fallen."

"Then we are lost."

"Not yet. The Swedes thought it would fall into the moat, but it has fallen inside. The enemy will soon try an assault. Come to this window which overlooks the walls. Can you see? Father Hieronymus is on his knees by the large gun. I will wager that he sees the Swedish king."

The count was right. The Jesuit's keen glance was fixed on one spot, and his lips hastily muttered prayer after prayer. He had discovered Gustaf Adolf on horseback with Pehr Brahe. The two kept near the outworks, sheltered somewhat by a heap of debris. Father Hieronymus relied upon the heavy shot, into which, with prayers and fasting, he had run the gold from the Holy Mother's mantle. He stooped to direct the cannon, and the pupils of his eyes contracted, his nostrils expanded, while Latin prayers continued to flow from his lips. Then he rose quickly, and after swinging the lighted match in the form of a cross, fired.

The gun belched forth flame and smoke. Oh, hate and fury! When the smoke cleared off, the two horsemen still rode unharmed side by side. But this time Gustaf Adolf had a narrow escape, for the ball had struck the debris, and covered both with dust.

Tired, weary, and quite exasperated, the Jesuit left the ramparts.

"Wait, ruler of Belial, until I succeed in taking your ring from you, and then you shalt be destroyed!"

The king now commanded an assault on the outworks. Axel Lilje, Jacob Ramsay, and Hamilton, pressed on with their men. Frightful difficulties were here encountered. They were obliged to climb up the steep rocks under a heavy fire, and then cross the moat and scale the walls. The irresistible Scots and Finns led the way. Those who fell were immediately replaced by others, with their swords between their teeth. The king himself rode as near as possible in order to encourage his troops. A bullet tore away a piece of his glove, without wounding him. It was now a common belief that Gustaf Adolf was invulnerable.

At last, after two hours desperate conflict, the Scots and the Finns triumphed. The outworks were captured, and the defenders driven back into the castle. It was then four in the afternoon.

A few hours rest ensued. At a council of war it was resolved to storm the castle at daybreak, and the Finns were to lead the forlorn hope.

The position of the garrison was far from hopeless. They could still concentrate 1,000 men at any threatened point. But they had lost their moral courage. In vain did Keller try to restore their spirits; in vain did the monks carry the golden image of the Virgin around the ramparts. At nightfall disorder reigned; the troops refused to obey orders, and some wished to escape in the darkness.

At midnight, Lady Regina was praying before the altar in the chapel to the mother of God.

"Holy Mary," she whispered, "guard this castle against the heretics. But if it be thy will that the fortress shall fall, then also bury in its ruins all thy enemies: the godless king, and his heathen Finns who have fought the most to-day against thy Holy Cause."

"Amen!" said the voice of Father Hieronymus behind her. A dark smile played over his pale countenance.

"Do you realise what you are asking for, my daughter?"

"Victory for the Catholic faith. Death to the heretics."

"The youthful mind is subject to change. Have you sufficient devotion to hate the enemies of the faith, even if ever, as a woman, you felt tempted to love one of them?"

"I have, my father; yes, I declare it!"

"You are my penitent, and I would save your soul from eternal damnation. Have you courage to sacrifice yourself for the holy faith, and thereby secure the eternal crown of a martyr?"

"Yes, my father!"

"Very well; then know that the fortress will be taken in a short time. You will be a prisoner; you are young and beautiful, and may easily win the king's favour. When you can approach his person, and the Holy Virgin grants an opportunity, you must——"

The Jesuit now took out a crucifix of silver, and when he pressed a spring in the breast of the image, a keen dagger flew out.

"Grace, my father; this task is terrible.

"No respite. The Holy Church demands a blind obedience. Perinde ac cadaver. As a corpse which has no will of its own. Do you love the Holy Virgin?"

"You know that I do."

"Look at her golden robe. She has lost a part of it during the night. It is a bad omen, and indicates her anger. Do you love me also, my daughter?"

"I revere you more than anyone else, my father."

"Then look at this mutilated head."

The Jesuit removed his black leather cap, and exposed the horrible stumps of two severed ears.

"Thus have the blasphemous king's Finns treated your confessor and friend. Do you still hesitate to avenge the mother of God and myself?"

"What must I do, my father?"

"Listen! The heretic king wears on his right forefinger a ring of copper; this is a talisman against death and injury. You must gain possession of this ring by some artifice, and then if your arm is too weak to deal the blow, call upon me. We will reach his heart, even if it was guarded by a dragon's scales."

"If it is the will of the saints ... so be it."

"Place two fingers on this crucifix, and repeat this oath. I swear by this cross, and by all the saints, to accomplish what I now vow before the image of the Holy Virgin. If I ever break this oath, may a curse rest upon me and my posterity to the seventh generation.

"Thy will be done on earth, as it is done in Heaven. Amen!"

Lady Regina faithfully repeated these words after the monk.

The night's silence sealed this terrible oath, which, with iron fetters, chained the coming generations to the hesitating decision of a girl of sixteen.

While this passed, the troops of stormers assembled in the outworks. A number of volunteers had obtained permission to join them. All relied upon victory.

Among the volunteers appeared Lieutenant Bertel.

"Thunder and lightning! is that you, Bertel?" exclaimed Lieutenant Larsson.

"As you see," said the youth, shaking his hand cordially.

"Well, I declare, the good boy wishes to sport his new commission. There's not a single drop left in my flask. But say, why have you changed your name, Bertel? What sort of a mixture is it? neither Swedish or Finnish."

"It was done at Breitenfeld," said Bertel, slightly blushing. "The comrades have long called me so, and—it is shorter."

"Well, I hope you are not too proud to bear a peasant's name, now you are an officer?"

"Have the lots already been drawn?" said Bertel.

"No. You are just in time to try your luck."

As all the younger officers desired the honour of leading the forlorn hope, the difficulty was settled by drawing lots. After these were shaken up in a helmet, Bertel was the successful competitor.

"Look out for yourself, my boy!" cried little Larsson. "Thunder and lightning, remember that the castle is full of Jesuits. Trap-doors everywhere, a dagger in every crucifix, and at the moment of victory the castle will be blown up."

It was half an hour to the dawn. Bertel with seven men was ordered to closely reconnoitre the fortress. The rest of the troops were held in readiness.

The night was pitch dark. Bertel's men approached the drawbridge without being challenged: To their complete astonishment they found it down.*

* Some authors say that the drawbridge could not be drawn up on account of the weight of the many dead who were left there after the strife.

Bertel stopped for an instant, remembering Larsson's warnings. Was this a trap? All was silent. Then Bertel and his men stepped softly over the bridge.

"Who goes there?" thundered a German sentinel through the darkness.

"Swede!" cried Bertel, cleaving his head. "Comrades, the castle is ours!"

And the seven pushed on resolutely after him.

Inside the drawbridge stood two hundred Imperialists on guard. These became panic-stricken and thought the whole Swedish army was upon them. They tried to regain the sally-port, but the bold lieutenant and his seven men opposed them. The darkness in the arched gateway was impenetrable; friend could not be distinguished from foe. The press soon became so great that no sword could be used, and the rash assailants were in danger of being crushed to death by the rushing host of mailed warriors.

But those in the outworks had heard Bertel's cry, and the whole Swedish force now rushed against the castle; the rest of the garrison seized their weapons and hastened to defend the entrance. But the Finns had obtained a footing, and in a short time stood inside the castle yard. Keller and his men fought desperately, and many Swedes and Finns fell here, at the very moment of victory. Their fall excited their countrymen to revenge. They began to cry, "Magdeburger pardon," and this shout meant death without quarter to all the Imperialists. The carnage became awful. Many monks threw themselves into the mêlée, some with torches, some sword in hand. Most were cut down, others cast themselves on the ground feigning death. Day had broken over the sanguinary scene.

Then Lennart Torstensson started forward, seized the madly struggling Keller round the waist, and took him prisoner. The remainder of the Imperialists laid down their arms, and all was over.

CHAPTER V.

JUDITH AND HOLOFERNES.

When the first rays of the sun glittered in the waves of the River Main, the castle of Marienburg was in the hands of the Swedes. The king rode up to the courtyard, which was covered with killed and wounded enemies, and amongst these were more than a score of monks. Some of these appeared to the king to be shamming death.

"Stand up," he said to them, "and no evil shall befall you."

Immediately many of those who were pretending to be dead stood on their feet sound and well, and bowed low, full of joy and gratitude to the king.

The castle had been taken by storm, and the soldiers were allowed to plunder. The quantity of silver, and gold, and weapons, and other valuable things was enormous. The king reserved the armoury, with its complete equipments for 7,000 infantry and 4,000 cavalry, 48 guns and 4 mortars, the stables with fine and valuable horses, and the wine cellar filled with the very best wines. The library was sent to Upsala, and donated to the university. The sacred statues of gold and silver found their way to the Treasury. Although many of the inhabitants of the town were allowed to take away their property, the booty was so great that when the soldiers divided it, the money was measured in helmets. At last Keller had to lead the way to the concealed treasure vault. This was deep down in the rock underneath the cellar of the castle; here the bishop kept his treasures. Fryxell relates, that when the soldiers carried up the heavy chests, the bottom fell out of one of them, and the gold rolled over the courtyard. The soldiers hurried to pick it up. Some they gave to the king, but most of it went into their own pockets. Gustaf Adolf saw this, and said, laughing, "Never mind, boys; now that it has once come into your hands, you may as well keep it." The spoil was so great that after that day there was scarcely a soldier in the whole army who did not have a new suit of clothes. In the camp a cow was sold for a riks thaler, a sheep for a few stivers, and the learned Salvius writes, "Our Finnish boys, who are now accustomed to the winelands down here, are not likely to wish to return to Savolax. In the Livonian war they often had to put up with water and mouldy bread, now the Finns can concoct a beverage in their helmets with wine and spices."

Amongst the prisoners was the Count of Lichtenstein and Lady Regina. The king ordered that they should both be treated with the greatest respect. He offered the young lady a safe conduct to go to the bishop, her uncle. Lady Regina rejected this on account of the insecurity of the times, and asked as a favour to be allowed to remain under the king's protection for the present. Gustaf Adolf agreed to this.

"I do this unwillingly," said the king, smiling, to the Margrave of Baden Durlach, who was riding by his side. "Young ladies are a luxury in the camp, and they turn the heads of my attendants; but she may come with me to Frankfurt, as a hostage; it will bind the hands of the bishop."

"Your Majesty knows how to attract everybody through your generosity," replied the Margrave with the politeness of a courtier.

"Lieutenant Bertel," said the king, turning to the officer close to him, who had the command of a troop of Finnish cavalry, "I give Lady Regina von Emmeritz into your charge. She has my permission to bring with her an elderly lady, a young girl, and her father confessor. See to it, that you are not smitten, lieutenant, and above all give close heed to the monk; that set is not to be relied upon."

Bertel saluted with his sword, and remained silent.

"One thing more," continued the king. "I have not forgotten that you were the first one who entered the sally-port. When you have brought the young lady to safety, you must appear on duty in my life-guards. Have you understood me?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Good." And the king then said to the Margrave with a smile, "Believe me, it would have been serious to leave this beautiful dark-eyed girl in the charge of one of my susceptible Swedes. This boy is a Finn; they are the most phlegmatic people I know of. They are poor gallants; they need a year to catch fire. A girl can drive twenty of them out of a ball-room; but if it comes to a battle with Pappenheim, then your grace knows what they can do."

Gustaf Adolf gained victory after victory in the late autumn. Tilly, who had come too late to save Würzburg, did not dare to attack him, and irritated by his bad luck and constant defeats, drew back to the Bavarian frontier. Gustaf Adolf marched down the Main, entered Aschaffenburg, and compelled the cautious Frankfurters to open their gates. On December the 6th the king forced a march over the Rhine near Oppenheim, and entered Mainz on the 9th, which the Spaniard de Sylva had so proudly thought that he could defend against three Swedish kings. The victorious Swedish army was now spread over the north and west part of Germany, and the conqueror had chosen his winter quarters in Frankfurt-on-the-Main. A splendid court here assembled around the hero; it was here that flattery had previously adorned his head with the crown of the German Empire. It was here that Maria Elenora came flying on longing wings to embrace her husband; in Henau, where he had come to meet her, she clasped him in her arms and said,

"At last the great Gustaf Adolf is captured."

One day at the end of December, 1631, the king gave a splendid banquet in Frankfurt on account of the queen's arrival. Great crowds of people filled the place outside the castle, the high Gothic windows at night shone bright as day. Ale and wines flowed constantly from big casks for the people's entertainment; around the tap-holes workmen and soldiers jostled each other, holding out tankards and goblets, which were quickly filled and as suddenly empty again. The good citizens of Frankfurt were beside themselves with admiration for the great king. From man to man, the famous tales of his justice and mildness circulated: now he had ordered a soldier to be hanged because he had taken with force a burgher's hen; now he had stopped in the streets and spoken familiarly with those whom he met. They imagined that they saw his shadow reflected by the small window-panes and wondered whether the German crown would not be placed upon that mighty head that very evening.

In the saloon of the castle a royal magnificence prevailed. Gustaf Adolf knew his consort's weakness for display, and probably wished to produce an effect on the assembled German nobility. The floor was covered with rich Flemish carpets, and over the windows were draperies of crimson velvet with tassels of gold; costly chandeliers, heavy with a thousand wax-lights, hung from the ceiling, which was adorned with arabesques.

They had just finished one of those measured and stately Spanish dances, which were at that time in vogue, and the heavy-footed Northmen had tried in vain to compete with the German and French aristocracy.

The king had offered his arm to the queen, and they made a promenade through the magnificent saloons. His tall and corpulent figure, and simple dignity of manner, which at once inspired reverence and love, seemed still more majestic by the side of the slender and delicate queen, who with sincere devotion leaned on his arm. Maria Elenora was then thirty-two years of age, and had retained a great portion of her beauty, which had gained her so many admirers in her youth. On her black hair, which was arranged in small curls about her snow-white temples, flashed a diadem of fabulous value, which was a recent gift from the king; her expressive blue eyes rested with indescribable affection upon her royal spouse; she seemed to forget herself, absorbed in the admiration which the king excited.

In the wake of the royal couple followed a crowd of all the illustrious personages of whom Protestant Germany could boast at that time.

One saw here the deposed King Frederick of Bohemia, the Duke of Weimar and Würtemberg, the Landgrave of Hesse, the Margrave of Baden Durlach, the Count of Wetterau, as well as other distinguished chevaliers; not less than twelve ambassadors from foreign courts had assembled here round the hero feared by all Europe. Of the king's own, Tott, Baner, and Gustaf Horn were occupied in other directions with affairs of war; but here at Gustaf Adolf's side, great as himself, even in outer form, was the gifted Oxenstjerna, and behind him the man with the pale, unpretending aspect, the calm, penetrating, and commanding look, Lennart Torstensson, as well as the proud Finn, Wittenberg, then colonel. Many of the Swedish generals, and almost all the Finns, Stälhandske, Ruuth, Forbus, and others, did not thrive well amidst the ceremonial of the royal saloon and amongst this haughty nobility whose court etiquette appeared to the stern warriors unbearably tedious, and had therefore withdrawn in good time to one of the smaller saloons, where pages in gold-embroidered velvet suits profusely poured the choicest Rhine wines into silver goblets.

Among this brilliant assemblage ought to be included the members of the common council of the city of Frankfurt, and many of its most prominent citizens, with their wives and daughters, as well as a large number of ladies, from the high-born duchess down to the scarcely less proud councillor's wife. Yes, and one saw here even a small number of Catholic prelates, easily recognisable by their bald heads; for the king wished to proclaim religious freedom by word and deed; the prelates, although in their hearts cursing the paltry rôle they played here, once invited, did not dare to stay away.

This scene was doubly gorgeous from the splendour of the attire. The king, however, wore a tight-fitting suit of black velvet stitched with silver, a Spanish cape of white satin, embroidered by the queen's hands, short yellow leather top-boots, and the broad lace collar which one sees in all his portraits, with the short hair and long goatee. The luxury-loving queen wore a richly jewelled dress of silver brocade with a short waist and half-bare arms; even the little white satin slippers glittered with brilliants.

The ladies of the aristocracy and the rich burghers' wives vied with each other in display; silver and gold fabrics, velvet, satin, and costly Brabant laces; also ribbons of all sorts of colours, buckles, rosettes, and long sashes, which, fluttering in the air, gave a picturesque effect. Princes and knights, some in wide German, others in close-fitting Spanish costumes, with their plumed hats under their arms, and attendant pages in silver and velvet, completed this bright scene in a time when uniforms were unknown. Flattery and admiration followed the king.

"Sire," said the artful king of Bohemia to him, "your Majesty can only be compared to Alexander of Macedon."

"My cousin," answered Gustaf Adolf, smiling, "you do not mean to liken the good city of Frankfurt to Babylon?"

"No, sire," joined in the French ambassador, Breze, who walked by their side; "his Bohemian Majesty only wishes to liken the Rhine to Granicus, and hopes that the new Alexander's Hyphasis may lie beyond the frontiers of Bohemia."

"You must confess, Count Breze," said the king, changing the conversation, "that our Northern beauties and your French beauties have been conquered to-day by a German."

"Sire, I am of your opinion, that her Majesty the Queen does not need the enviable position by your side to be truly victorious," replied the courteous Frenchman.

"My consort will be grateful for your politeness, minister, but she resigns to Lady von Emmentz the preference that belongs to youth."

"Your Majesty flatters to a great extent our national German pride," said the Duke of Würtemberg bowing.

"Beauty is cosmopolitan, your grace. It was truly a great booty my soldiers took at Würzburg."

The king then approached Lady Regina. Her radiant beauty was still more charming through the tight-fitting black velvet dress strewed with silver stars in which she was robed.

"My lady," he said courteously. "I should be happy if the mourning you wear covered a heart that could forget all sad memories and only live in the hope of a brighter future, when war and battles no longer frighten the colour away from your beautiful cheeks. Believe me, lady, the time will come, and I am wishing for it with all my heart as much as you are, and let this hope bring joy to these lips where it always ought to remain."

"By your Majesty's side one forgets everything," replied Lady Regina, and rose respectfully from her high crimson-covered chair. But her cheeks grew still paler while she spoke, which showed that she could not forget the past and her present captivity.

"Are you not well, lady?"

"Very well, your Majesty."

"Perhaps you have something to complain of? Have confidence in me—as a friend!"

"Your Majesty is very kind——"

Regina struggled with herself. At last she said, with her eyes on the floor,

"Your Majesty's goodness leaves nothing to wish for."

"We shall meet again."

The king continued his walk through the saloon.

Lady Regina withdrew to a deep window recess in one of the other rooms and wept.

"Holy Virgin," she prayed, "forgive me, that my heart does not belong to you alone. You who can see into my inmost being, you know that I have not enough strength to hate this heretic king as you demand of me. He is so great, so noble. Woe unto me, I shudder to think of the holy charge you have given me!"

"Courage, my daughter," whispered a voice close by, and Lady Regina's evil spirit, the pale Jesuit, stood behind her.

"The hour is approaching," he said in a low tone. "The godless king has been taken by your beauty; rejoice, my child. The Holy Virgin has decided his destruction. This night he shall die."

"Oh, my father, my father, what do you demand of me?"

"Listen to me, my daughter. When Holofernes, the King of Assyria, besieged Bethulia, there was a widow, Judith, the daughter of Merari, beautiful as you, my child, devoted as you. She fasted three times, and then she walked out and gained the favour of the enemy of her faith and people. The saints gave his life into her hands, she drew his sword and cut off his head, and delivered her people."

"Mercy, my father!"

"It was counted unto her great honour and ever-lasting salvation, and her name was mentioned among the greatest in Israel. You will some day be mentioned like that, my daughter, amongst the saints of the Holy Catholic Church. Last night the Holy Franciscus was visible by my bedside. He said, the time has come, go to Judith, tell her that I will give Holofernes' head into her hands."

"What shall I do, my father?"

"Mark closely how you ought to deport yourself. This very evening you must request a private audience of the king."

"Impossible!"

"You shall reveal to him a fictitious plot against his life. He will listen to you. You shall entice the ring from him. Once in possession of it, I will be ready to assist you. But if he refuses you the ring, then take this paper, it contains a deadly poison; St. Franciscus has given it himself to me. You shall mix it in the beverage which the king drinks at night."

Lady Regina took the paper, and leaned her curly head against the window-frame, and she hardly seemed to have taken any notice of the Jesuits terrible injunction. An entirely new thought had seized this ardent soul, and was working itself to clearness. The Jesuit misunderstood her; he supposed that her silence proceeded from submission to his despotism, from fanatic ecstasy over the martyr-crown he had held up to her.

"Have you understood me, my daughter?" asked he.

"Yes, my father."

"You will, then, this evening, ask the king for a private audience? You will..."

"Yes, my father."

"Benedicta, ten benedicta, thou thrice-blessed instrument, go to thy heavenly glory!" And the Jesuit disappeared in the throng.

The large clock in the coronation chamber pointed to midnight. Through an ingenious mechanism, invented by a Nuremberger, two immense tables, set with elegant silver service, rolled out from an adjoining room at the twelfth stroke, and stood at once, as if risen from the floor, in the centre of the saloon. Upon a given sign from the master of the ceremonies, the king and queen placed themselves before two crimson chairs at the middle of the upper table, and all the guests in rows, according to rank and dignity, around the festive boards. One of the prelates present said grace in a loud voice, after which the king himself recited a short psalm, and the rest with practised voices joined in. They now seated themselves with considerable bustle, and once arrived so far, they did not allow themselves to be too much incommoded by ceremony. The courses were both many and savoury. Richelieu had sent Gustaf Adolf a French cook; but the king, far from spoiled by good living, only employed the fine Frenchman for ornamental dishes on occasions like this; perhaps he did not rely fully upon the cardinal's gift, for it was said that Richelieu's dinners were scarcely less dangerous than those of the former Borgias. And besides, the Netherland and German cooking was at that time more praised than the French. The tables' greatest ornaments at this banquet were a wild boar roasted whole, decorated with flowers and laurel leaves, and a piece of pastry, presented by a baker of Frankfurt, and representing the triumphant march of a Roman Emperor. Everyone believed that they recognised in this small hero, Gustaf Adolf's features, and many jesting words were exchanged, when each found a resemblance between the attending Romans and his neighbour. The queen, whose delicate hand was destined to break this masterpiece of culinary art, with a smile put one of the last slaves in the triumphal march on her silver plate; but Gustaf Adolf, generally endowed with a good appetite, seized the great pastry hero rather ungently with his warrior hand, and placed a considerable portion of his person upon his plate.

In the meantime the goblets were filled with the best Rhenish and Spanish wines, and the king drank the queen's health in a plain simple manner, and all the other guests followed his example. At the top of the table stood the royal pages in glittering uniforms, one behind each chair, and at the lower end one stood behind every other chair. They refilled the goblets, and the king then drank to Frankfurt's welfare; immediately afterwards he rose from the table and left the room with the queen on his arm, and they retired to their own apartments. Gustaf Adolf always lived as a plain soldier ought to do, and was generally quick at his meals, but under favourable circumstances would stay an hour at the table. The king, however, did not ask the others to follow his example, and left in his place as host a high officer of the court.

This time it was the old Scotchman, Patrick Ruthwen, who was a good boon companion, and he filled his post with great credit. Oxenstjerna left the room with the king. The ladies also left the hall, but the gentlemen remained behind enjoying themselves over their wine and the nuts which had been handed round on silver dishes; amongst the latter were artificial ones made of stone, which looked so natural that they were constantly mistaken for real From this joke came the saying, "it is a hard nut to crack." The heroes of the Thirty Years' War were nearly all great topers; to empty at a draught one of the large beakers of Rhenish wine was a small matter to them. But on this occasion they had to restrain themselves, because they all knew the high moral principles of the king, and hence did not dare to turn their goblets upside down too often. They did not break up until a late hour, and some of the commanders treated each other to a rare product just imported from the Low Countries, and it was passed from hand to hand in small boxes; each man bit off a piece, and some with frightful grimaces spat it out again, whilst others kept it in their mouths with evident enjoyment. Doubtless, the reader has already guessed, this was tobacco.

While this feasting was going on in the hall, the queen had gone to rest with her ladies in waiting, but the king was still talking to Axel Oxenstjerna. What these two great men were conversing about is easier to guess than to tell. Perhaps it was about Sweden's poverty, or the Emperor's power, or the power of God, which is still greater, or the victory of the Light, or the crown of the Roman kingdom, or a German Protestant empire in the future. No one knows this for certain; for after the king's death all his secrets followed Oxenstjerna to the grave.

It was very late, and Oxenstjerna was about to leave, when Bertel, the officer on duty, announced that a closely veiled lady requested an audience of the king. It was a strange favour to ask at this time of the night, and both Gustaf Adolf and his minister were greatly surprised; but that there must be an important reason for such a secret visit was obvious to them both, and the king ordered Bertel to bring the lady in, and told Oxenstjerna to remain.

Bertel left the room, and returned in a few moments with a tall lady thickly veiled, and dressed in black. She seemed greatly agitated and surprised not to find the king alone; she was unable to utter a word.

"Madam," said the king in a somewhat irritable tone—he did not like such a visit at this late hour; for if it was known it would tend to excite gossip amongst the courtiers, and perhaps awaken the jealousy of his sensitive wife—"a visit at this hour of the night must have some important object in order to justify it. I should first of all like to know who you are."

The lady was still silent.

The king thought he could guess the cause of her silence, and continued, pointing to his companion:

"This is minister Oxenstjerna, my friend, and I have no secrets from him."

The lady dressed in black then threw herself at the king's feet and drew back her veil. The king retreated several paces when he recognised Lady Regina von Emmeritz; her dark eyes flashed with an enthusiastic fire, but her face was as pale as that of a marble statue.

"Stand up, lady," said Gustaf Adolf in a kind tone, and stretched out his hand to lift her up. "What now leads you to seek an audience with me? Speak, I beg of you; tell me without fear what troubles you have in your heart; will you not comply with my wish?"

Lady Regina sighed deeply, and began to speak in a low voice almost impossible to hear, but she gradually assumed a louder tone, supported by her enthusiasm.

"Your Majesty, I have come to you because you asked me to come. I come to you because I have hated you, sire; for a long time I have prayed daily to the Holy Virgin, that she would destroy you, and your whole army. Your Majesty, I am only a weak girl, but an honest Catholic; you have pursued our Church with war, and plundered our convents; driven away our holy fathers, and melted down our holy golden images; you have slain our soldiers, and dealt our cause deadly blows that can never be repaired. Therefore I have taken a Holy Oath to bring about your destruction, and relying upon the Holy Virgin's help I have followed your steps from Würzburg in order to kill you."

The king and Oxenstjerna looked at each other as if they doubted the young girl's sanity. Lady Regina saw this, and continued to speak with more vehemence than before.

"Sire, you think me mad, because I speak thus to the conqueror of Germany. But listen to me further. When I saw you for the first time in the castle of Würzburg, and how kindly and generously you sheltered the weak, and spared those who had been captured, I then said to myself, 'This conduct seems to be inspired from Heaven, but nevertheless it must come from hell.' But when I followed you here, and saw your greatness as a man combined with your heroic qualities, sire, I hesitated to carry out my vow, and my hatred became a burden to me. I struggled with myself, and your kindness to-night has conquered my resolve. Sire, now I love you as much as I have hated you before. I admire you, and am devoted to you——"

The beautiful girl let her eyes sink to the floor.

"Well," said the king, hesitating with great emotion.

"Your Majesty, I have made this confession because you are great and noble enough not to misunderstand me. But I have not come to you at this late hour only to confess an unhappy girl's feelings. I have come here to save you, sire."

"Explain yourself."

"Hear me, your Majesty. I am disarmed, but others much more dangerous remain. Some of our body, men without mercy, have sworn to kill you. Oh! you do not know what these men are capable of doing. They have drawn lots in order to decide who shall kill you, and the most dangerous of them is near you in disguise daily. Your Majesty cannot escape from them. To-day or to-morrow, perhaps, you may be assassinated or poisoned. Your death is sure."

"My life is in the hand of God, and not at the mercy of a murderous fanatic," said Gustaf Adolf in a very calm voice. "The evil have not as much power as Will. Be assured, Lady von Emmeritz, I do not fear them."

"No, sire, the saints have decided your death. I know that you rely upon this ring"—and Regina grasped the king's hand—"but it will not help you. Sire, I say to you that your death is certain, and I have not come here to save your life and thus betray the cause of our Holy Church."

"Then why, lady, did you come here now?"

Lady Regina again threw herself at the king's feet with almost adoration.

"Sire, I have come to save your soul. I cannot bear to think that a hero like yourself, so noble, so great, should be lost for ever. Hear me, I beg, I implore you by your eternal salvation, with certain death staring you in the face, do not continue in your heretical faith, whose fruit is eternal damnation. I pray you, abjure these evil doctrines while there is still time, and come back to the only way of redemption, the Holy Catholic Church; give up your faith and go to the Holy Father in Rome; confess your sins to him, and use your victorious sword in the service of the true Church, instead of using it for her destruction. She will receive you with open arms, and whether your Majesty lives or dies, your Majesty can always depend upon being placed among the chosen saints in Heaven."

The king for the second time raised the young girl from the ground, and looked straight into her burning eyes, and said in an impressive voice:

"When I was as young as you are, Lady von Emmeritz, my teacher, old Skytte, brought me up with the same enthusiastic devotion to the Protestant faith that you have for the Catholic. At that time I hated the Pope with all my soul, as you now hate Luther, and I prayed to God that the time might come when I could destroy Antichrist and convert all those that believed in him to the true light. Since then I have not altered my principles, but I have learned through experience that the paths are many, although the goal is One. I stand steadily by my faith, and am prepared to die for it, if God so decides. But I respect the faith of a Christian, even if it is quite different from my own, and I know that God's mercy can bring a soul to salvation, even if its way is obscured by dark mists and illusions. Go, Lady von Emmeritz, I forgive you; although deluded by the fanatical teachings of the monks, you have tried to draw me from the battle for the Light. Go, poor child, and let the Word of God, and the lessons of Life, teach you not to rely upon saints, who are no better than we are, or images, or rings, as they cannot alter the highest law. I thank you because your intentions are good, although you are inexperienced. Be without fear for my life, which is in the hand of Him who knows how to use it."

King Gustaf Adolf was truly great when he spoke these words.

Lady Regina stood there, at the same time crushed and uplifted by the king's magnanimous spirit. Perhaps she remembered his answer to the burghers of Frankfurt, when they asked him to be allowed to remain neutral; "neutrality is a word which I cannot bear to hear, least of all amidst the battle between light and darkness, betwixt liberty and slavery." Brought up to hate the Protestant faith, she could not understand how it was possible for the sword which had destroyed the worldly power of the church to be laid aside in the presence of its spiritual power over the hearts and minds of men.

The fanatical young girl raised her tear-stained eyes towards the king. Her cheeks turned pale, on which had before burned the fire of enthusiasm, and her eyes were fixed with terror on the scarlet-coloured hangings which surrounded the king's bed.

Oxenstjerna, who was more suspicious than Gustaf Adolf, had closely watched the young lady the whole time, and at once noticed her agitation.

"Your Majesty," said he in Swedish to the king, "be on your guard, there are owls in the marshes."

Then without waiting for an answer he drew his sword and walked steadily towards the magnificent bed, which was a gift from the burghers of Frankfurt; the royal hero had exchanged the eider-down pillows for a simple mattress, and a coarse blanket of Saxon wool, the same as his soldiers used in their winter camps.

"Stop!" cried Regina with evident reluctance. But it was too late. Oxenstjerna had with a sudden movement pulled back the hangings, and revealed a pale face with dark burning eyes, surmounted by a black leather skull-cap. The hangings were still further drawn back, and the whole features of the monk became visible; his hands were clasped round a crucifix of silver.

"Step forward, devoted father," said Oxenstjerna in a satirical tone. "A man of your merits should not remain in concealment. Your reverence has chosen a peculiar place for your evening devotions. With his Majesty's permission I will furnish you with a larger audience."

At the sound of the bell, Lieutenant Bertel with two men from the life-guards entered, and placed themselves on both sides of the exit with their long halberts.

The king looked at Lady Regina, but more sadness than anger was to be seen in his eyes. It pained him that so young and beautiful a girl could take part in such a detestable plot.

"Mercy, your Majesty! mercy for my father confessor! He is innocent!" cried the unhappy girl.

"Will your Majesty allow me to ask a few questions in your place?" said Oxenstjerna.

"Do as you think best, minister," said the king.

"Very well. What did your reverence come here for?"

"To bring back a great sinner to the true fold," said the monk hypocritically, with his eyes turned upwards.

"Really, one must say that you are very zealous. And for such a holy purpose you carry with you the image of the crucified Saviour?"

The monk bowed whilst devoutly making the sign of the cross.

"Your reverence is very humble. Give me the crucifix, that I may admire this work of art."

The monk unwillingly handed it to him.

"A beautiful object. It required a clever artist to design this holy image."

The minister passed his hands over all parts of the crucifix. At last, when he touched the breast of the image, a sharp dagger sprang forth.

"See, your reverence carries a very innocent-looking toy. A keen dagger, just suitable to thrust through a noble king's heart! Miserable monk," said Oxenstjerna in a terrible voice, "do you know that your horrible crime becomes a hundred times more detestable through the blasphemous method you wish to employ?"

Like all the kings of the Vasa line, Gustaf Adolf had a hasty temper in his youth, which more than once brought him into trouble. But the experience of manhood had cooled his blood; still one could sometimes see the quick Vasa disposition get beyond control. This now happened. He was quite great enough, however, to look calmly upon this treacherous attempt against his life, although the preservation of Germany depended upon it, and he looked down with great disgust upon the discovered traitor, who now stood trembling before his indignant judge. But the horrible misuse of the Saviour's holy image as a weapon against his life—he who was prepared to sacrifice himself for the pure teachings of Jesus Christ—appeared to him to be such a terrible blasphemy against all in life that he considered holy and right, that his calmness was instantly changed to the most terrible anger.

Noble and great as a lion in his wrath, he stood in front of the cringing Jesuit, who was unable to bear the glance of his eyes.

"On your knees," said the king in a thunderous voice, stamping violently with his foot on the floor.

The Jesuit fell down as if struck by lightning, and crawled in mortal terror to the king's feet, like a poisonous reptile, spell-bound by the king's look: powerless at the conqueror's feet.

"Ye serpent's brood," continued the king beside himself with anger, "how long do ye think that the Almighty will endure your iniquities? By God! I have seen much; I have seen your Antichrist and Romish rule cover the world with all the deeds of darkness; I have seen ye, monks and Jesuits, poison frightened consciences with your devil's teachings about murder and crimes committed for the glory of Heaven; but a deed so black as this, a blasphemy against everything that is holy in Heaven and upon earth, I have never before dreamed of. I have forgiven ye all; ye have plotted against my life at Demmin and other places; I have not taken revenge; ye have acted worse than Turks and barbarians towards the innocent Lutherans; wherever ye have had the power ye have destroyed their churches, and burned them at the stake, driven them away from house and home; and what is worse, ye have tried to draw them from their faith with arguments and force to your idolatrous religion, which worships deeds and miserable images instead of the living God and His only Son. For all this, I have not retaliated upon your cloisters and churches and consciences; ye have gone free in your faith, and no one has touched a hair of your heads. But now I know you, servants of the devil; the Almighty God has delivered ye into my hand; I shall scatter ye like chaff; I shall punish you, ye desecrators of the temple; I shall follow you to the end of the world, as long as this arm is able to wield the Lord's sword. Ye have hitherto seen me mild and merciful, ye will now see me hard and terrible; I will destroy you and your accursed faith on earth; it will be such a judgment as the world has not seen since the destruction of Rome."

The king walked up and down the room with hasty steps, without deigning to bestow a glance on the prostrate Jesuit or the trembling Regina, who was standing by the window covering her face with her hands. Oxenstjerna, always calm and collected, was alarmed at the king's anger, and feared that he would go too far, and now tried to modify it.

"Will your Majesty deign to order Lieutenant Bertel to take the monk into safe custody, and let a court-martial make a terrible example of him?"

"Mercy, your Majesty!" cried Regina, who was blindly devoted to her father confessor. "Mercy! I am the guilty one. I have advised him to take this terrible step. I alone deserve to be punished for it."

At this noble self-sacrifice a faint ray of hope illumined the Jesuit's pale features, but he did not dare to rise up. The king took no notice of this appeal. Instead, he turned all his wrath upon the guard.

"Lieutenant Bertel," he said sharply, "you have commanded my life-guard to-night; through your neglect this wretch has slipped into the room. Take him at once to prison, and you shall answer for his safety with your head. Then you can go and take your place in the ranks. From this moment you are degraded to the position of a private soldier."

Bertel saluted, but did not speak. What pained him more than the loss of his commission was the sacrifice of the king's favour, especially as he knew that he had kept a ceaseless watch. It was a complete mystery to him how the Jesuit had got in. The latter had now grasped the king's knees and prayed for mercy. But in vain. The king pushed him backwards, and he was taken away gnashing his teeth and his heart full of revenge.

Gustaf Adolf then turned to the trembling girl at the window, took her hand and looked straight into her eyes.

"Lady," he said with asperity, "it is said that when the king of the darkness wishes to do a terrible evil deed on earth, he sends his instruments dressed as angels of light. What do you wish me to think of you?"

Lady Regina had courage enough to lift up her eyes once more to the great king.

"I have nothing more to say. Kill me, sire, but save my father confessor!" she said with fanatical resolution.

The king, still looking angrily into her eyes, could not yet control himself.

"If your father, lady, had been an honest man, he would have taught his daughter to fear God, honour the king, and speak the truth to every man. You wished to convert me; I will instead educate you, you seem to be in great want of it. Go, you remain my prisoner until you have learned to speak the truth. Oxenstjerna, is the severe old Lady Marta at Korsholm still alive?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"She will have a pupil to educate. At the first opportunity this girl is to be sent to Finland."

Lady Regina, proud and silent, left the room.

"Your Majesty!" said Oxenstjerna reproachfully.

CHAPTER VI.

THE FINNS AT LECH.

Before our story proceeds further, it is necessary to bestow one more look on Frankfurt.

Lady Regina was closely guarded after her midnight visit to the king; and later in the spring, when the waters were released from their icy fetters, she was sent to Finland, where we may find her again. No religious hatred, still less revenge, prompted the anger of the usually generous Gustaf Adolf towards the young girl; abused confidence deeply stabs a noble heart, and Regina said nothing to remove the idea of her guilt from the king's mind; in fact, she strengthened it more and more by her fanaticism, and hatred still possessed her young heart, which ought to have been given to love alone.

An extraordinary incident increased the king's resentment. On the night that the Jesuit was taken to prison, to be executed next day, the terrible monk escaped; no one knew how. These fearful men had allies and secret emissaries and passages everywhere; that very night a hitherto concealed door was discovered in the king's bed-chamber. Bertel's innocence came to light through this, but the mysterious escape of the monk again excited the king's wrath, and the late lieutenant had still to remain a private soldier.

By the middle of February, 1632, the king was ready for departure; he then took the stronghold at Kreutznach in March, after a short siege, and left the queen, as well as Axel Oxenstjerna, in Mayence. But Tilly had in the meantime surprised Gustaf Horn at Bamberg, and done great mischief. The king pursued him down the Danube, and wished to invade Bavaria by crossing the Lech. In vain did his generals object that the river was too deep and rapid, and that the Elector, with Tilly, Altringer, and 22,000 men, stood on the opposite side. The king spoke like Alexander at the passage of the Granicus.

"Shall we, who have crossed the Elbe, Oder, and Rhine, nay, even the Baltic, stop alarmed at the River Lech?"

The passage was decided upon.

The king tried for some time to find a suitable crossing. At last he discovered it near a bend in the stream; a dragoon disguised as a peasant heard that the Lech was twenty-two feet deep. Trestles were made of timber torn from cabins; four batteries of seventy cannon in all, were erected on the bank, and breastworks thrown up for the skirmishers, while fires of damp straw and green wood enveloped the neighbourhood in thick smoke. Still, Tilly was old and experienced; he soon occupied the wood on the other side with his force; dug trenches and made fortifications, from which he directed a heavy fire. On the 3rd of April the Swedish cannon replied with terrific effect. On April 5th the trestles for a bridge were laid in spite of the fire of the enemy; planks were then thrown across, and, as usual, the Finns led the attack. Three hundred infantry, headed by little Larsson, and the brave Savolaxen Paavo Lyydikain, were ordered to cross the planks, and defend the bridge on the opposite shore; each was promised a reward of ten riks thalers. In a few moments the fate of Bavaria would be decided.

The Finns carried spades and trenching tools, and cheering as they advanced, rushed at the double over the bridge. Immediately a tremendous cross-fire from all Tilly's batteries was directed upon them; every moment balls dropped splashing into the foaming waters, or flew over the charging Finns, and now and then fell amongst them, scattering death on every side. Those who got over worked vigorously at throwing up earthworks, which soon protected their front, although their flanks were still exposed to the enemy's fire.

Tilly realised the importance of this position, and his fire redoubled. The Swedes riddled the opposite wood with a storm of shot, which struck the stones and tree-tops, scattering fragments and branches far and wide upon the Bavarians, who stood underneath awaiting the order to charge. The king, in order to encourage his men, hastened to the front, and himself fired sixty shots. The cannon thunder was heard for miles.

More than half of the Finns had now been killed, wounded, or drowned, but the entrenchments were completed. And at that instant the king ordered the afterwards celebrated Count Carl Gustaf Wrangel to go to their assistance. The Finns, exalted with pride by their countrymen's success, and also anxious for the safety of their comrades, begged eagerly to be led into the midst of the fight, and in a moment Wrangel was surrounded by 300 Finnish volunteers, with whom he heroically charged across the shaking planks. The gallant Duke Bernhard, who, like the king, had a certain partiality for the Finns, received permission to make a diversion in their favour. Followed by a troop of Finnish cavalry, he found and passed over a ford, and fell upon the enemy's right flank. The surprised Bavarians fell into disorder, and in spite of their numerical superiority, gave ground before the attack. Duke Bernhard's troop played havoc with the enemy, and soon cut their way through to their comrades at the end of the bridge. Through this daring exploit the Finns obtained the dreaded name, "Hackapeliter," from the words "hakkaa päälle!" Go Ahead! which they shouted as they charged.

Stimulated by the Finns' success, the Swedish and German infantry now began to cross the bridge. Tilly, avoiding exposing his troops to the murderous Swedish fire till the last moment, now sent Altringer's infantry to take the fortifications, and drive the enemy into the river. The Bavarians advanced at the double, and although decimated by the hail of bullets, threw themselves furiously on the earthworks.

Wrangel's men stood firm. Almost enveloped by the enemy's massive column, the Finns gave them a hot reception. Pouring in a deadly volley at fifty yards, every bullet told. The Bavarians wavered for a moment; most of them were new recruits; they faltered. The Finns got time to reload; another volley; and the assailants fled in disorder along the bank. Altringer rallied them with great difficulty, and again led them to the onset; at that moment a cannon-shot whizzed so close to his head that he fell senseless to the ground. Again the Bavarians gave way. Tilly saw this, and sent his favourite Wallachians to their assistance. But even these veterans had to retreat, so terrific was the fire. Then Tilly seized a banner, and led the attack in person. Before, however, he had taken many steps, he fell, struck down by a falconet ball, which had smashed one leg. The old general was carried from the field, and died a fortnight afterwards at Ingolstadt.

The Bavarian army now became utterly demoralised. The Elector retreated under cover of the darkness, leaving 2,000 dead on the field, and the way open to the heart of Bavaria.

Next day the entire Swedish army crossed the Lech. The king with a liberal hand distributed rewards to his brave troops. Amongst these was a horseman who had accompanied Duke Bernhard, who praised him in the highest terms. This was Bertel; three slight wounds attested the duke's account. Bertel regained his rank, but not the king's confidence, which he valued above everything. But he resolved to win this back at all costs.

Gustaf Adolf then marched to Augsburg, which took the oath of allegiance, and gave brilliant festivals in his honour. Here report, which joined the names Gustafva Augusta, whispered that the king had abandoned himself, like another Hannibal in Capua, to effeminacy and pleasure. Rumour was wrong. Gustaf Adolf was merely resting, and revolving still more daring enterprises in his mind. But from this time the king's pathway began to darken. The death angel went before him with drawn sword, and aimed now here, now there, a blow at his life, as if to cry constantly in his ear, "Mortal, thou art not a god."

One could almost think that the powers of darkness had obtained more power over him; now ambition began to gain ground in his mind, and he was no longer solely animated by the sacred cause of Liberty and Faith. A secret and terrible enemy seemed everywhere in his path, dealing deadly blows which could not as yet reach their mark. At the bold but unsuccessful attack on Ingolstadt there was, relates Fryxell, a cannon on the ramparts called a "Fikonet," and celebrated for shooting both far and true. The gunner on the ramparts saw out on the field a man with a waving plume riding a fine charger, and surrounded by attentive followers. "There," he said, "rides a great lord, but this will stop his career;" then he aimed and fired the "Fikonet." The ball brought down horse and rider, and the others hastened to the place in great dread; but the king, for it was he, raised himself up, covered with blood and dust, but unharmed, from underneath the dead horse, exclaiming,

"The apple is not yet ripe."

The citizens of Ingolstadt buried the horse, and stuffed his skin as a remembrance. Shortly afterwards the king was riding at the side of the young Margrave of Baden Durlach, who had just before been one of the most brilliant figures at the Augsburg balls. A cannon-shot passed very near the king, and as he looked round, a headless horseman rode by his side and then sank to the ground.

CHAPTER VII.

NEW ADVENTURES.

From Ingolstadt the king turned to Landshut, in the centre of Bavaria. The farther he advanced into this country, where they had never seen an army of heretics before, the people became more fanatical, wild, and bloodthirsty. Large bands of peasants assembled, commanded by the monks, lying in ambush everywhere for the Swedes, and cutting off every straggler; they also tortured their prisoners in the most horrible manner. The king's army on their side, inebriated by their successes, were infuriated by this cruel guerilla warfare, and began to burn and destroy all the places they passed through. Hitherto the Swedish army had been remarkable for its good conduct in the field, but now they left in their rear a broad track of murder and crime; and woe to those troops who in insufficient numbers wandered far from the main body.

The king had now marched far into the country, and wished to send some new important orders to Baner, who followed slowly in his steps from Ingolstadt. On account of the lawless state of the country this was attended with great risk, and the king would not order a large body to go. A young officer, a Finn, volunteered to try, accompanied by two horsemen. The king agreed to this, and the three horsemen set out one evening in May on this dangerous journey.

The young officer was no other than our friend Bertel, and his companions were Pekka from East Bothnia, and Vitikka from Tavastland. The night was dark and gloomy, and the three horsemen rode carefully in the middle of the road, much afraid of missing their way in this strange country, and dreading an ambush from their enemies. It began to rain, which made the roads still worse; these had already been much damaged by the passage of the heavy baggage-wagons, and at every step they risked an accident.

"Here," said Vitikka ironically to his companion, "you are a northern Finn, and ought to be able to practise witchcraft."

"I should not be worth much if I could not do it," responded Pekka in the same bantering tone.

"Try, then, and take us in a minute to Hattelmala mountain and let us see the light shining from Hämeenlinna's castle. There is a little gipsy girl whom I once loved, and I would rather be by her side to-night, than here in the ruts of this damned forest."

"That will be easy for me to do," said Pekka; "see, you can already see the lights shining from Hämeenlinna."

His comrade looked sharply around, uncertain if Pekka was joking or in earnest; he thought the latter quite as likely as the former. And truly, in the brushwood underneath, a light appeared, but he soon understood that he was still hundreds of miles away from his home. Suddenly their horses stopped, and would not move. A barrier of tree trunks was stretched across the road.

"Hush!" whispered Bertel, "I hear a noise in the wood."

The horsemen leaned forward and listened attentively. On the opposite side of the wood they heard footsteps and the breaking of branches.

"They must be here in a quarter of an hour," said a voice in the well-known Bavarian dialect.

"How many of them are there?"

"Thirty horsemen, and ten or twelve baggage animals. They left Geisenfeld at dusk, and they have a young girl with them as a prisoner."

"How many are we?"

"About fifty musketeers, and seventy or eighty armed with pitchforks and axes."

"Good. No firing is allowed until they are within three paces."

At this moment Bertel's horse neighed, whose name was Lapp; he was small but strong and active.

"Who is there?" sounded from the road.

"Swedes!" cried Bertel boldly, just as he did at the Würzburg sally-port, and fired off a pistol in the direction of the voice, and saw by the flash a large band of peasants, who had encamped by the barricade. He then turned his horse, and, calling upon his companions to follow him, rode at full gallop on the road back to Landshut.

But the peasants had by the flash also seen the three horsemen, and now hurried to cut off their retreat. Bertel's horse easily distanced the pursuers, but Vitikka's fell over the stump of a tree, and Pekka's clumsy animal was hurt by the thrust of a pitchfork in his neck as he tried to get out of the marsh. Bertel saw his followers' danger, and would not leave them; he turned back and killed the nearest peasants, and caught Pekka's horse by the bridle and tried to pull him up, calling also to Vitikka to leave his horse and jump on the back of Lapp. This brave effort was successful, and the three were on their way to safety, when suddenly a whizzing noise was heard, and a lasso settled upon Bertel's shoulders, tightened, and jerked him from his saddle. Vitikka fell at the same moment, and Lapp, thus delivered from his heavy burden, galloped off, and Pekka followed with or without his will. Bertel and Vitikka were taken prisoners and bound with their hands behind their backs.

"Hang the dogs before the others arrive!" cried one.

"Hang them by the heels!" suggested another.

"With a little fire underneath!" said a third.

"No fire! no noise!" ordered a fourth, who appeared to be in command. "Listen, comrades," whispered he Ito the prisoners lying on the ground, "was it Finnish you spoke?"

"Go to the devil!" said Vitikka in a rage.

"Maledicti, maledicti Fennones!" said the former speaker in the darkness. "You are mine!"

"Now they are coming!" cried one of the band, and the trampling of horses was heard on the road to Ingolstadt. The peasants remained still, and for greater safety gagged the prisoners. The approaching troop were provided with torches, and seemed to be Germans, who were returning from a marauding expedition. They were riding so quickly that they did not notice the barricade until they were close upon it; at the same moment a murderous fire opened upon them from behind this obstruction. Ten or twelve of the foremost fell to the ground, and their riderless horses reared and dragged them along by the stirrups; the greatest confusion prevailed amongst them, some turned back, riding over their comrades and the pack-horses; others fired off their pistols towards the enemy behind the barricade. The peasants rushed from their ambush and furiously attacked those that remained, and pulled them off their horses with lassos. In vain the horsemen endeavoured to defend themselves; in less than ten minutes the whole troop was scattered; eight or ten had escaped, fifteen were lying wounded on the road, and six or seven were made prisoners. Only four of the peasants had fallen. The revenge of the Bavarians was inhuman. They fired blank charges in the prisoners' faces, which burnt them black, and partially buried some of them in the ground and stoned them slowly to death.

When this terrible work was finished, they carried away the booty to a place of safety. Bertel and his companion were thrown across one of the horses, and they marched deep into the forest. After some time they stopped at a lonely farm, and the prisoners were dragged in and thrown on the floor in a separate room, while the peasants in the next room rejoiced over their victory, and drank captured wine. A deathly pale monk now entered the room, carrying a sword by his side with a rope. He held up a torch to the prisoners' faces, took away their gags, and looked at them in silence.

"Am I right," said he at last, sarcastically; "this is Lieutenant Bertel, of the king's life-guards."

Bertel looked up and recognised the Jesuit Hieronymus.

"You are welcome to me, lieutenant, and thank you for our last meeting. Such an important guest must be well entertained. I fancy I have seen this comrade before, also," he said, pointing to Vitikka.

The wild Finn looked him straight in the eyes and opened his mouth with an obstinate grin.

"What have you done with your ears, monk?" he said tauntingly. "Take away your skull-cap, foul thief, and let us see if you have grown any ass's ears in their place."

At this daring remark about the incident at Breitenfeld a dark frown contracted the Jesuit's eyebrows, and a blush arose on his pale features; he bit his lips with rage.

"Think of your own ears, comrade," said he. "Anathema maranatha! They will soon have heard enough in this world."

With these words the Jesuit clapped his hands twice, and a blacksmith with his leather apron entered, carrying a pair of red-hot pincers.

"Well, comrade, do your ears begin to burn?" said the monk cruelly.

Vitikka replied stubbornly, "Now you think you are clever, but you are only a fumbler in comparison with the devil. Your lord and master does not need any pincers, he uses his claws."

"The right ear," said the Jesuit. The smith approached the Finn and put the pincers to his head. Vitikka smiled disdainfully. A sudden blush coloured his brown cheeks, but only for a moment. He had now only one ear.

"Will you now abjure your faith, and believe in the Holy Father and damn Luther, and you shall keep your other ear?"

"Niggard!" cried the Finn. "Your lord and master generally offers countries and kingdoms, and you only offer me a wretched ear!"

"The left ear," continued the Jesuit coldly. The smith carried out the order. The mutilated soldier smiled.

"Monk, it is shameful!" said Bertel, who was lying close by. "Kill us, if you like, but do it quickly!"

"Who has said that I intend to kill you?" replied the Jesuit, smirking. "Never; it entirely depends upon yourself whether you regain your freedom this very night."

"What do you ask of me?"

"You are a brave young man, Lieutenant Bertel! I am sorry that the king so shamefully and unjustly deprived you of your rank, which you had gained with your blood."

"Are you really sorry? And what then?"

"If I was in your place I should take revenge."