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The Strong Arm

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"So the Archbishop has at last summoned courage to attack, after all
this patient waiting."

"My Lady," shouted the Count, "these are my forces and not the
Archbishop's. I am Konrad, Count of Hochstaden."

"The more shame, then, that you, who have fought bravely with men,
should now turn your weapons against a woman, and she your neighbour
and the sister of your friend."

"Indeed, Lady Brunhilda, you misjudge me. I am come to your rescue and
not to your disadvantage.. The Archbishop's men were put to some
inconvenience by our unexpected arrival, and to gather from the sounds
far down the valley they have not ceased running yet. We come with
bread, and use the sword but as a spit to deliver it."

"Your words are welcome were I but sure of their truth," said the lady
with deep distrust in her tone, for she had had experience of the
Archbishop's craft on many occasions, and the untimely hour of the
succour led her to fear a ruse. "I open my gates neither to friend nor
to foe in the darkness," she added.

"Tis a rule that may well be commended to others of your bewitching
sex," replied the Count, "but we ask not the opening of the gates,
although you might warn those within your courtyard to beware what
comes upon them presently."

So saying, he gave the word, and each two of his servitors seized a
sack of bread by the ends and, heaving it, flung it over the wall. Some
of the sacks fell short, but the second effort sent them into the
courtyard, where many of them burst, scattering the round loaves along
the cobble-stoned pavement, to be eagerly pounced upon by the starving
servitors and such men-at-arms as had escaped from the encounter with
the Archbishop's troops when the Baron was slain. The cries of joy that
rang up from within the castle delighted the ear of the Count and
softened the suspicion of the lady on the wall.

"Now," cried Konrad to his Captain, "back to Schloss Hochstaden before
the dawn approaches too closely, and let there be no mistake in the
Archbishop's camp that you are on the way."

They all departed in a series of earsplitting, heart-appalling whoops
that shattered the still night air and made a vocal pandemonium of that
portion of the fair Rhine valley. The colour left the cheeks of the
Lady of Bernstein as she listened in palpable terror to the fiendish
outcry which seemed to scream for blood and that instantly, looking
down she saw the Knight of Hochstaden still there at the foot of her
wall gazing up at her.

"My Lord," she said with concern, "if you stay thus behind your noisy
troop you will certainly be captured when it comes day."

"My Lady of Bernstein, I am already a captive, and all the Archbishop's
men could not hold me more in thrall did they surround me at this
moment."

"I do not understand you, sir," said Brunhilda coldly, drawing herself
up with a dignity that well became her, "your language seems to partake
of an exaggeration that doubtless you have learned in the tropical
East, and which we have small patience with on the more temperate banks
of the Rhine."

"The language that I use, fair Brunhilda, knows neither east nor west;
north nor south, but is common to every land, and if it be a stranger
to the Rhine, the Saints be witness 'tis full time 'twere introduced
here, and I hold myself as competent to be its spokesman, as those
screeching scoundrels of mine hold themselves the equal in battle to
all the archbishops who ever wore the robes of that high office."

"My Lord," cried Brunhilda, a note of serious warning in her voice, "my
gates are closed and they remain so. I hold myself your debtor for
unasked aid, and would fain see you in a place of safety."

"My reverenced Lady, that friendly wish shall presently be gratified,"
and saying this, the Count unwound from his waist a thin rope woven of
horse-hair, having a long loop at the end of it. This he whirled round
his head and with an art learned in the scaling of eastern walls flung
the loop so that it surrounded one of the machicolations of the
bastion, and, with his feet travelling against the stone work, he
walked up the wall by aid of this cord and was over the parapet before
any could hinder his ascent. The Maid of the Schloss, her brows drawn
down in anger, stood with sword ready to strike, but whether it was the
unwieldiness of the clumsy weapon, or whether it was the great celerity
with which the young man put his nimbleness to the test, or whether it
was that she recognised him as perhaps her one friend on earth, who can
tell; be that as it may, she did not strike in time, and a moment,
later the Count dropped on one knee and before she knew it raised one
of her hands to his bending lips.

"Lovely Warder of Bernstein," cried Count Konrad, with a tremor of
emotion in his voice that thrilled the girl in spite of herself, "I lay
my devotion and my life at your feet, to use them as you will."

"My Lord," she said quaveringly, with tears nearer the surface than she
would have cared to admit, "I like not this scaling of the walls; my
permission unasked."

"God's truth, my Lady, and you are not the first to so object, but the
others were men, and I may say, without boasting, that I bent not the
knee to them when I reached their level, but I have been told that
custom will enable a maid to look more forgivingly on such escapades if
her feeling is friendly toward the invader, and I am bold enough to
hope that the friendship with which your brother has ever regarded me
in the distant wars, may be extended to my unworthy self by his sister
at home."

Count Konrad rose to his feet and the girl gazed at him in silence,
seeing how bronzed and manly he looked in his light well-polished
eastern armour, which had not the cumbrous massiveness of western mail,
but, while amply protecting the body, bestowed upon it lithe freedom
for quick action; and unconsciously she compared him, not to his
disadvantage, with the cravens on the Rhine, who, while sympathising
with her, dared not raise weapon on her behalf against so powerful an
over-lord as the warlike Archbishop. The scarlet cross of the Crusader
on his broad breast seemed to her swimming eyes to blaze with lambent
flame in the yellow torchlight. She dared not trust her voice to answer
him, fearing its faintness might disown the courage with which she had
held her castle for so long, and he, seeing that she struggled to hold
control of herself, standing there like a superb Goddess of the Rhine,
pretended to notice nothing and spoke jauntily with a wave of his hand:
"My villains have brought to the foot of the walls a cask of our best
wine which we dared not adventure to cast into the courtyard with that
freedom which forwarded the loaves; there is also a packet of dainties
more suited to your Ladyship's consideration than the coarse bread from
our ovens. Give command, I beg of you, that the gates be opened and
that your men bring the wine and food to safety within the courtyard,
and bestow on me the privilege of guarding the open gate while this is
being done."

Then gently, with insistent deference, the young man took from her the
sword of her father which she yielded to him with visible reluctance,
but nevertheless yielded, standing there disarmed before him. Together
in silence they went down the stone steps that led from the battlements
to the courtyard, followed by the torch-bearers, whom the lightening
east threatened soon to render unnecessary. A cheer went up, the first
heard for many days within those walls, and the feasters, flinging
their caps in the air, cried "Hochstaden! Hochstaden!" The Count turned
to his fair companion and said, with a smile:

"The garrison is with me, my Lady."

She smiled also, and sighed, but made no other reply, keeping her eyes
steadfast on the stone steps beneath her. Once descended, she gave the
order in a low voice, and quickly the gates were thrown wide, creaking
grumblingly on their hinges, long unused. Konrad stood before the
opening with the sword of Bernstein in his hands, swinging it this way
and that to get the hang of it, and looking on it with the admiration
which a warrior ever feels for a well hung, trusty blade, while the
men-at-arms nodded to one another and said: "There stands a man who
knows the use of a weapon. I would that he had the crafty Archbishop
before him to practise on."

When the barrel was trundled in, the Lady of Bernstein had it broached
at once, and with her own hand served to each of her men a flagon of
the golden wine. Each took his portion, bowing low to the lady, then
doffing cap, drank first to the Emperor, and after with an enthusiasm
absent from the Imperial toast, to the young war lord whom the night
had flung thus unexpectedly among them. When the last man had refreshed
himself, the Count stepped forward and begged a flagon full that he
might drink in such good company, and it seemed that Brunhilda had
anticipated such a request, for she turned to one of her women and held
out her hand, receiving a huge silver goblet marvellously engraved that
had belonged to her forefathers, and plenishing it, she gave it to the
Count, who, holding it aloft, cried, "The Lady of Bernstein," whereupon
there arose such a shout that the troubled Archbishop heard it in his
distant tent.

"And yet further of your hospitality must I crave," said Konrad, "for
the morning air is keen, and gives me an appetite for food of which I
am deeply ashamed, but which nevertheless clamours for an early
breakfast."

The lady, after giving instruction to the maids who waited upon her,
led the way into the castle, where Konrad following, they arrived in
the long Rittersaal, at the end of which, facing the brightening east,
was placed a huge window of stained glass, whose great breadth was
gradually lightening as if an unseen painter with magic brush was
tinting the glass with transparent colour, from the lofty timbered
ceiling to the smoothly polished floor. At the end of the table, with
her back to the window, Brunhilda sat, while the Count took a place
near her, by the side, turning so that he faced her, the ever-
increasing radiance illumining his scintillating armour. The girl ate
sparingly, saying little and glancing often at her guest. He fell to
like the good trencherman he was, and talked unceasingly of the wars in
the East, and the brave deeds done there, and as he talked the girl
forgot all else, rested her elbows on the table and her chin in her
hands, regarding him intently, for he spoke not of himself but of her
brother, and of how, when grievously pressed, he had borne himself so
nobly that more than once, seemingly certain defeat was changed into
glorious victory. Now and then when Konrad gazed upon Brunhilda, his
eloquent tongue faltered for a moment and he lost the thread of his
narrative, for all trace of the warrior maid had departed, and there,
outlined against the glowing window of dazzling colours, she seemed
indeed a saint with her halo of golden hair, a fit companion to the
angels that the marvellous skill of the artificer had placed in that
gorgeous collection of pictured panes, lead-lined and cut in various
shapes, answering the needs of their gifted designer, as a paint-brush
follows the will of the artist. From where the young man sat, the girl
against the window seemed a member of that radiant company, and thus he
paused stricken speechless by her beauty.

She spoke at last, the smile on her lips saddened by the down turning
of their corners, her voice the voice of one hovering uncertain between
laughter and tears.

"And you," she said, "you seem to have had no part in all this stirring
recital. It was my brother and my brother and my brother, and to hear
you one would think you were all the while hunting peacefully in your
Rhine forests. Yet still I do believe the Count of Hochstaden gave the
heathen to know he was somewhat further to the east of Germany."

"Oh, of me," stammered the Count. "Yes, I was there, it is true, and
sometimes--well, I have a fool of a captain, headstrong and reckless,
who swept me now and then into a melee, before I could bring cool
investigation to bear upon his mad projects, and once in the fray of
course I had to plead with my sword to protect my head, otherwise my
bones would now be on the desert sands, so I selfishly lay about me and
did what I could to get once more out of the turmoil."

The rising sun now struck living colour into the great window of
stained glass, splashing the floor and the further wall with crimson
and blue and gold. Count Konrad sprang to his feet. "The day is here,"
he cried, standing in the glory of it, while the girl rose more slowly.
"Let us have in your bugler and see if he has forgotten the battle call
of the Bernsteins. Often have I heard it in the desert. 'Give us the
battle call,' young Heinrich would cry and then to its music all his
followers would shout 'Bernstein! Bernstein!' until it seemed the far-
off horizon must have heard."

The trumpeter came, and being now well fed, blew valiantly, giving to
the echoing roof the war cry of the generations of fighting men it had
sheltered.

"That is it," cried the Count, "and it has a double significance. A
challenge on the field, and a summons to parley when heard from the
walls. We shall now learn whether or no the Archbishop has forgotten
it, and I crave your permission to act as spokesman with his Lordship."

"That I most gratefully grant," said the Lady of the Castle.

Once more on the battlements, the Lord of Hochstaden commanded the
trumpeter to sound the call The martial music rang out in the still
morning air and was echoed mockingly by the hills on the other side of
the river. After that, all was deep silence.

"Once again," said Konrad.

For a second time the battle blast filled the valley, and for a second
time returned faintly back from the hills. Then from near the great
tent of the Archbishop, by the margin of the stream, came the answering
call, accepting the demand for a parley.

When at last the Archbishop, mounted on a black charger, came slowly up
the winding path which led to the castle, attended by only two of his
officers, he found the Count of Hochstaden awaiting him on the
battlements above the gate. The latter's hopes arose when he saw that
Cologne himself had come, and had not entrusted the business to an
envoy, and it was also encouraging to note that he came so poorly
attended, for when a man has made up his mind to succumb he wishes as
few witnesses as possible, while if he intends further hostilities, he
comes in all the pomp of his station.

"With whom am I to hold converse?" began the Archbishop, "I am here at
the behest of the Bernstein call to parley, but I see none, of that
name on the wall to greet me."

"Heinrich, Baron Bernstein, is now on his way to his castle from the
Holy Land, and were he here it were useless for me to summon a parley,
for he would answer you with the sword and not with the tongue when he
learned his father was dead at your hand."

"That is no reply to my question. With whom do I hold converse?"

"I am Konrad, Count of Hochstaden, and your Lordship's vassal."

"I am glad to learn of your humility and pleased to know that I need
not call your vassalage to your memory, but I fear that in the darkness
you have less regard for either than you now pretend in the light of
day."

"In truth, my Lord, you grievously mistake me, for in the darkness I
stood your friend. I assure you I had less than a thousand rascals at
my back last night, and yet nothing would appease them but that they
must fling themselves upon your whole force, had I not held them in
check. I told them you probably outnumbered us ten to one, but they
held that one man who had gone through an eastern campaign was worth
ten honest burghers from Cologne, which indeed I verily believe, and
for the fact that you were not swept into the Rhine early this morning
you have me and my peaceful nature to thank, my Lord. Perhaps you heard
the rogues discussing the matter with me before dawn, and going angrily
home when I so ordered them."

"A man had need to be dead and exceedingly deep in his grave not to
have heard them" growled the Archbishop.

"And there they stand at this moment, my Lord, doubtless grumbling
among themselves that I am so long giving the signal they expect, which
will permit them to finish this morning's work. The men I can generally
control, but my captains are a set of impious cut-throats who would
sooner sack an Archbishop's palace than listen to the niceties of the
feudal law which protects over-lords from such pleasantries."

The Archbishop turned on his horse and gazed on the huge bulk of
Schloss Hochstaden, and there a wonderful sight met his eye. The walls
bristled with armed men, the sun glistening on their polished
breastplates like the shimmer of summer lightning. The Archbishop
turned toward the gate again, as though the sight he beheld brought
small comfort to him.

"What is your desire?" he said with less of truculence in his tone than
there had been at the beginning.

"I hold it a scandal," said the Count gravely, "that a prince of the
Church should assault Christian walls while their owner is absent in
the East venturing his life in the uplifting of the true faith. You can
now retreat without loss of prestige; six hours hence that may be
impossible. I ask you then to give your assurance to the Lady of
Bernstein, pledging your knightly word that she will be no longer
threatened by you, and I ask you to withdraw your forces immediately to
Cologne where it is likely they will find something to do if Baron
Heinrich, as I strongly suspect, marches directly on that city."

"I shall follow the advice of my humble vassal, for the strength of a
prince is in the sage counsel of his war lords. Will you escort the
lady to the battlements?"

Then did Count Konrad von Hochstaden see that his cause was won, and
descending he came up again, leading the Lady Brunhilda by the hand.

"I have to acquaint you, madame," said the Archbishop, "that the siege
is ended, and I give you my assurance that you will not again be
beleaguered by my forces."

The Lady of Bernstein bowed, but made no answer. She blushed deeply
that the Count still held her hand, but she did not withdraw it.

"And now, my Lord Archbishop, that this long-held contention is
amicably adjusted," began Von Hochstaden, "I crave that you bestow on
us two your gracious blessing, potentate of the Church, for this lady
is to be my wife"

"What!" cried Brunhilda in sudden anger, snatching her hand from his,
"do you think you can carry me by storm as you did my castle, without
even asking my consent?"

"Lady of my heart," said Konrad tenderly, "I did ask your consent. My
eyes questioned in the Rittersaal and yours gave kindly answer. Is
there then no language but that which is spoken? I offer you here
before the world my open hand; is it to remain empty?"

He stood before her with outstretched palm, and she gazed steadfastly
at him, breathing quickly. At length a smile dissolved the sternness of
her charming lips, she glanced at his extended hand and said:

"'Twere a pity so firm and generous a hand should remain tenantless,"
and with that she placed her palm in his.

The Archbishop smiled grimly at this lovers' by-play, then solemnly,
with upraised hands, invoked God's blessing upon them.




THE LONG LADDER


Every fortress has one traitor within its walls; the Schloss Eltz had
two. In this, curiously enough, lay its salvation; for as some Eastern
poisons when mixed neutralise each other and form combined a harmless
fluid, so did the two traitors unwittingly react, the one upon the
other, to the lasting glory of Schloss Eltz, which has never been
captured to this day.

It would be difficult to picture the amazement of Heinrich von
Richenbach when he sat mute upon his horse at the brow of the wooded
heights and, for the first time, beheld the imposing pile which had
been erected by the Count von Eltz. It is startling enough to come
suddenly upon a castle where no castle should be; but to find across
one's path an erection that could hardly have been the product of other
agency than the lamp of Aladdin was stupefying, and Heinrich drew the
sunburned back of his hand across his eyes, fearing that they were
playing him a trick; then seeing the wondrous vision still before him,
he hastily crossed himself, an action performed somewhat clumsily
through lack of practice, so that he might ward off enchantment, if, as
seemed likely, that mountain of pinnacles was the work of the devil,
and not placed there, stone on stone, by the hand of man. But in spite
of crossing and the clearing of his eyes, Eltz Castle remained firmly
seated on its stool of rock, and, when his first astonishment had
somewhat abated, Von Richenbach, who was a most practical man, began to
realise that here, purely by a piece of unbelievable good luck, the
very secret he had been sent to unravel had been stumbled upon, the
solving of which he had given up in despair, returning empty-handed to
his grim master, the redoubtable Archbishop Baldwin of Treves.

It was now almost two months since the Archbishop had sent him on the
mission to the Rhine from which he was returning as wise as he went,
well knowing that a void budget would procure him scant welcome from
his imperious ruler. Here, at least, was important matter for the
warlike Elector's stern consideration--an apparently impregnable
fortress secretly built in the very centre of the Archbishop's domain;
and knowing that the Count von Eltz claimed at least partial
jurisdiction over this district, more especially that portion known as
the Eltz-thal, in the middle of which this mysterious citadel had been
erected. Heinrich rightly surmised that its construction had been the
work of this ancient enemy of the Archbishop.

Two months before, or nearly so, Heinrich von Richenbach had been
summoned into the presence of the Lion of Treves at his palace in that
venerable city. When Baldwin had dismissed all within the room save
only Von Richenbach, the august prelate said:

"It is my pleasure that you take horse at once and proceed to my city
of Mayence on the Rhine, where I am governor. You will inspect the
garrison there and report to me."

Heinrich bowed, but said nothing.

"You will then go down the Rhine to Elfield, where my new castle is
built, and I shall be pleased to have an opinion regarding it."

The Archbishop paused, and again his vassal bowed and remained silent.

"It is my wish that you go without escort, attracting as little
attention as possible, and perhaps it may be advisable to return by the
northern side of the Moselle, but some distance back from the river, as
there are barons on the banks who might inquire your business, and
regret their curiosity when they found they questioned a messenger of
mine. We should strive, during our brief sojourn on this inquisitive
earth, to put our fellow creatures to as little discomfort as
possible."

Von Richenbach saw that he was being sent on a secret and possibly
dangerous mission, and he had been long enough in the service of the
crafty Archbishop to know that the reasons ostensibly given for his
journey were probably not those which were the cause of it, so he
contented himself with inclining his head for the third time and
holding his peace. The Archbishop regarded him keenly for a few
moments, a derisive smile parting his firm lips; then said, as if his
words were an afterthought:

"Our faithful vassal, the Count von Eltz, is, if I mistake not, a
neighbor of ours at Elfield?"

The sentence took, through its inflection, the nature of a query, and
for the first time Heinrich von Richenbach ventured reply.

"He is, my Lord."

The Archbishop raised his eyes to the vaulted ceiling, and seemed for a
time lost in thought, saying, at last, apparently in soliloquy, rather
than by direct address:

"Count von Eltz has been suspiciously quiet of late for a man so
impetuous by nature. It might be profitable to know what interests him
during this unwonted seclusion. It behooves us to acquaint ourselves
with the motives that actuate a neighbour, so that, opportunity
arising, we may aid him with counsel or encouragement. If, therefore,
it should so chance that, in the intervals of your inspection of
governorship or castle, aught regarding the present occupation of the
noble count comes to your ears, the information thus received may
perhaps remain in your memory until you return to Treves."

The Archbishop withdrew his eyes from the ceiling, the lids lowering
over them, and flashed a keen, rapier-like glance at the man who stood
before him.

Heinrich von Richenbach made low obeisance and replied:

"Whatever else fades from my memory, my Lord, news of Count von Eltz
shall remain there."

"See that you carry nothing upon you, save your commission as
inspector, which my secretary will presently give to you. If you are
captured it will be enough to proclaim yourself my emissary and exhibit
your commission in proof of the peaceful nature of your embassy. And
now to horse and away."

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