 CHAPTER IX. HOW ONE-EYED HONDS CAME TO TRUTZTRACKEN Fritz the swine-herd sat eating his late supper of porridge out of a great coarse wooden bowl. Life Catherine sat at the other end of the table, and the half-maked little children played upon the earthen floor. A shaggy dog curled up in front of the fire in a grunting pake scratched against a leg of the rude table close behind where the woman sat. "'Yes, yes,' said Catherine, speaking of the matter of which they had already been talking. "'It is all very true to say that the dragon-housons are a bad lot, and I, for one, am of no mind to say no to that. All the same, it is a sad thing that a simple-witted little child like the young baron should be so treated as the boy has been, and now that our Lord baron has served him so that he, at last, will never be able to do us harm, I, for one, say that he should not be left there to die alone in that black cell.' Fritz the swine-herd gave a grunt at this without raising his eyes from the bowl. "'Yes, good,' said Catherine, "'I know what thou meanest, Fritz, and that is none of my business to be thrusting my finger into the baron's dish. But to hear the way that dear little child spoke when she was here this morning, it would have moved a heart of stone to hear her tell all this pretty talk. Thou wilt try to let the red-beard know that that poor boy, his son, is sick to death in the black cell. Wilt thou not, Fritz?' The swine-herd dropped his wooden spoon into the bowl with a clatter. "'Pots, thousand!' he cried. Art thou gone out of thy head to let thy wits run upon such things as this of which thou talk is to me? If it should come to our Lord Baron's ears, he would cut the tongue out of thy head, and my head off my shoulders for it. Does thou think I am going to meddle in such a matter as this? Listen. These proud baron folk with their masterful ways drive our sort hither and thither. They beat us, they drive us, they kill us as they choose. Our lives are not as much to them as one of my black swine. Why should I trouble my head if they choose to lop and trim one another? The fewer there are of them, the better for us, say I. We poor folk have a hard enough life of it, without thrusting our heads into the noose to help them out of their troubles. What thinkest thou would happen to us if Baron Henry should hear of our betraying his affairs to the red-beard?' Nay, said Catherine, thou hast not to do in the matter but to tell the red-beard in what part of the castle the little baron lies. And what good would that do? said Fritz, the swine-herd. I know not, said Catherine, but I have promised the little one that thou wouldst find the baron Conrad and tell him that much. Thou hast promised a mare's egg, said her husband angrily. How shall I find the baron Conrad to bear a message to him, when our baron has been looking for him in vain, for two days past? Thou hast found him once, and thou mayst find him again, said Catherine, for it is not likely that he will keep far away from here whilst his boy is in such sore need of help. I will have nothing to do with it, said Fritz, and he got up from the wooden block whereon he was sitting and stumped out of the house. But then Catherine had heard him talking that way before, and knew in spite of his saying no, that sooner or later he would do what she wished. Two days later a very stout little one-eyed man clad in a leathern jerken and wearing a round leathern cap upon his head came toiling up the path to the posterendor of Trotsdraken, his back bowed under the burden of a great peddler's pack. It was our old friend, the one-eyed Hans, though even his brother would hardly have known him in that present guise, for besides having been turned peddler he had grown of a sudden surprisingly fat. Wrap-tap-tap he knocked at the door with a knotted end of a crooked thorn staff upon which he leaned. He waited for a while and then knocked again. Wrap-tap-tap. Presently with a click a little square wicket that pierced the door was opened, and a woman's face peered out through the iron bars. The one-eyed Hans whipped off his leathern cap. Good day, pretty one! said he, and hast thou any need of glass beads, ribbons, combs, or trinkets? Here I come all the way from Grünstadt with a pack full of such gay things as thou never laid eyes upon before. Here be rings and bracelets and necklaces that might be of pure silver and set with diamonds and rubies for anything that thy dear one could tell if he saw the decked in them, and all are so cheap that thou hast only to say, I want them, and they are thine. The frightened face at the window looked from right to left and from left to right. Hush! said the girl, and laid her finger upon her lips. There! Thou hadst best get away from here, poor soul, as fast as thy legs can carry thee, for if the Lord Baron should find thee here talking secretly at the poster-endor he would lose the wolfhounds upon thee. Proud! said one-eyed Hans with a grin. The Baron is too big a fly to see such a little net as I, but wolfhounds are no wolfhounds, I can never go hence without showing thee the pretty things that I have brought from the town, even though my stay may be at the danger of my own hide. He flung the pack from off his shoulders as he spoke, and fell to unstrapping it, while the round face of the lass, her eyes big with curiosity, peered down at him through the grated iron bars. Hans held up a necklace of blue and white beads that glistened like jewels in the sun, and from them hung a gorgeous filigree cross. Didst thou ever see a sweeter thing than this? said he, and look, here is a comb that even the silversmith would swear was all pure silver all the way through. Then in a soft weatling voice, Hans thou not let me in, my little bird? Sure there are other lasses besides thyself who would like to trade with a poor peddler who has travelled all the way from Grundstadt just to please the pretty ones of Trotsdrakon. Nay, said the lass in a frightened voice, I cannot let thee in. I know not what the Baron would do to me, even now if he knew that I was here talking to a stranger at the postern. And she made as if she would clap to the little window in his face. But the one-eyed Hans thrust his staff betwixt the bars, and so kept the shutter open. Nay, nay! he said eagerly. Do not go away from me too soon. Look, dear one, seeest thou this necklace? I, she said, looking hungrily at it. Then listen, if thou wilt but lead me into the castle so that I may strike a trade I will give it to thee for thine own, without thy paying a barley corn for it. The girl looked, and hesitated, and then looked again. The temptation was too great. There was a noise of softly drawn bolts and bars. The door was hesitatingly opened a little way, and in a twinkling of the one-eyed Hans had slipped inside the castle, pack and all. The necklace, said the girl, in a frightened whisper. Hans thrust it into her hand. It's thine, said he, and now wilt thou not help me to a trade? I will tell my sister that thou art here, said she. And away she ran from the little stone hallway, carefully bolting and locking the further door behind her. The door that the girl had locked was the only one that connected the post turned hail with the castle. The one-eyed Hans stood looking after her. Thou fool! he muttered to himself, to lock the door behind thee. What shall I do next? I should like to know. Here I am I, just as badly off as I was when I stood outside the walls. Thou hussy! If thou hadst but led me into the castle for only two little minutes I would have found somewhere to have hidden myself while thy back was turned. But what shall I do now? He rested his pack upon the floor and stood looking about him. Built in the stone wall opposite him was a high narrow fireplace without carving of any sort. As Hans one eye wandered around the bare stone space his glance fell at last upon it, and there it rested. For a while he stood looking intently at it. Presently he began rubbing his hand over his bristling chin in a thoughtful meditative manner. Finally he drew a deep breath and giving himself a shake as though to arouse himself from his thoughts, and after listening a moment or two to make sure that no one was nigh he walked softly to the fireplace and stooping peered up the chimney. Above him yawned black cavernous depth, inky with the soot of years. Hans straightened himself, and tilting his leathern cap to one side began scratching his bullet head. At last he drew a long breath. Yes, good! he muttered to himself. He who jumps into the river musty and swim the best he can. It is a vile dirty place to thrust oneself, but I am in for it now, and must make the best of a lame horse. He settled the cap more firmly upon his head, spat upon his hands, and once more stooping in the fireplace gave a leap, and up the chimney he went with a rattle of loose mortar and a black trickle of soot. By and by footsteps sounded outside the door. There was a pause, a hurried whispering of women's voices. The twitter of nervous laughter, and then the door was pushed softly opens, and the girl, to whom one eyed Hans had given the necklace of blue and white beads with the filigree cross-singing from it, peeped uncertainly into the room. Behind her broad heavy face were three others, equally homely and solid. For a while all four stood there, looking blankly into the room and around it. Nothing was there but the peddler's knapsack, lying in the middle of the floor. The man was gone. The light of expectancy slowly faded out of the girl's face, and in its place succeeded first bewilderment and then dull alarm. "'But dear heaven,' she said, "'where then has the peddler man gone?' A moment or two of silence followed her speech. "'Perhaps,' said one of the others, and a voice hushed with awe, "'perhaps it was the evil one himself to whom thou didst open the door.' Again there was a hushed and breathless pause. It was the last who had let Hans in at the post turn whom next spoke. "'Yes,' said she, in a voice trembling with fright at what she had done. "'Yes, it must have been the evil one for now I remember he had but one eye.' The four girls crossed themselves, and their eyes grew big and round with the fright. Suddenly a shower of mortar came rattling down the chimney. "'Ah!' cried the four, as with one voice. "'Bang!' the door was clapped to in a way they scurried like a flock of frightened rabbits. When Jacob the Watchman came that way an hour later upon his evening-ground of the castle, he found a peddler's nap sack lying in the middle of the floor. He turned it over with his pike-saff, and saw that it was full of beads and trinkets and ribbon. "'How came this here?' said he. And then, without waiting for the answer which he did not accept, he flung it over his shoulder and marched away with it.' End of CHAPTER IX CHAPTER X Now Hans brought terror to the kitchen. Hans found himself in a pretty pickle in the chimney, for the soot got into his one eye and set it to watering, and into his nose and set him to sneezing, and into his mouth and his ears and his hair. But still he struggled on, up and up. "'For every chimney has a top,' said Hans to himself, and I am sure to climb out somewhere or other.' Suddenly he came to a place where another chimney joined the one he was climbing, and here he stopped to consider the matter at his leisure. "'See now,' he muttered. "'If I still go upward, I may come out at the top of some tall chimney-stack with no way of getting down outside. Now below here there must be a fireplace somewhere, for a chimney does not start from nothing at all. "'Yes, good. We will go down a while, and see what we make of that.' It was a crooked zigzag road that he had to travel, and rough and hard into the bargain. His one eye tingled and smarted, and his knees and elbows were rubbed to the quick. Nevertheless one-eyed Hans had been in worse trouble than this in his life. Down he went. And down he went. Other than he had climbed upward before. "'Sure, I must be near some place or other,' he thought. As though in instant answer to his thoughts he heard the sudden sound of a voice, so close beneath him that he stopped short in his downward climbing, and stood as still as a mouse, with his heart in his mouth. A few inches more and he would have been discovered. What would have happened then would have been no hard matter to foretell. Hans braced his back against one side of the chimney, his feet against the other, and then leaning forward looked down between his knees. The gray light of the coming evening glimmered in a wide stone fireplace just below him. Within the fireplace two people were moving about upon the broad hearth, a great fat woman and a shock-headed boy. The woman held a spit, with two newly-trust fowls upon it, so that one eyed Hans knew that she must be the cook. "'Thou ugly toad,' said the woman to the boy, did I not bid thee make a fire an hour ago? And now here there is not so much as a spark to roast the fowls withal, and they to be basted for the Lord Baron Supper. Where hast thou been for all this time?' "'No matter,' said the boy sullenly, as he laid the faggots ready for the lighting. "'No matter. I was not running after long Jacob the bowman, to try to catch him for a sweetheart, as thou hast been doing. The reply was instant and ready. The cook raised her hand, smack! She struck, and a roar from the scullion followed. "'Yes, good,' thought Hans, as he looked down upon them. I am glad that the boy's ear was not on my head. "'Now give me no more of thy talk,' said the woman, but do the work that thou hast been bidden. And then—' "'How came all this black soot here? I should like to know.' "'How should I know?' snuffled the scullion. "'May have thou what's blamed that on me also.' "'That is my doing,' whispered Hans to himself. But if they like the fire, what then becomes of me? "'See now,' said the cook, I go to make the cakes ready, if I come back and find that thou hast not built the fire, I will warm thy other ear for thee.' "'So,' thought Hans, then will be my time to come down the chimney, for there will be but one of them.' The next moment he heard the door close, and knew that the cook had gone to make the cakes ready, as she said. And as he looked down he saw that the boy was bending over the bundle of faggots, blowing the spark that he had brought in upon the punk into a flame. The dry faggots began to crackle and blaze. "'Now is my time,' said Hans to himself. Bracing his elbows against each side of the chimney, he straightened his legs so that he might fall clear. His motions loosened little showers of soot that fell rattling upon the faggots that were now beginning to blaze brightly, whereupon the boy raised his face and looked up. Hans loosened his hold upon the chimney. Crash! He fell, lighting upon his feet in the midst of the burning faggots. The scullion boy tumbled backward upon the floor, where he lay upon the broad of his back, with a face as white as dough, and eyes and mouth agape, staring speachlessly at the frightful, inky black figure standing in the midst of the flames and smoke. Then his scattered wits came back to him. "'It is the evil one,' he roared, and thereupon, turning upon his side, he half rolled, half scrambled to the door. Then out he leapt, and banging the door behind him, flew down the passageway, yelling with fright, and never daring once to look behind him. All the time one-eyed Hans was brushing away the sparks that clung to his clothes. He was as black as ink, from head to foot, with the soot from the chimney. So far all is good, he muttered to himself, but if I go wandering about in my sooty shoes I will leave black tracks to follow me. So there is nothing to do but even to go barefoot. He stooped, and drawing the pointed, soft leather shoes from his feet, he threw them upon the now-blazing faggots, where they writhed and twisted and wrinkled, and at last burst into a flame. Meanwhile Hans lost no time. He must find a hiding-place and quickly, if he would yet hope to escape. A great bread-troph stood in the corner of the kitchen, a hopper-shaped chest with a flat lid. It was the best hiding-place that the room afforded. Without further thought Hans ran to it, snatching up from the table as he passed, a loaf of black bread, and a bottle half full of stale wine, for he had had nothing to eat since that morning. Into the great bread-troph he climbed, and drawing the lid down upon himself he curled himself up as snugly as a mouse in its nest. For a while the kitchen lay in silence, but at last the sound of voices was heard at the door, whispering together in low tones. Suddenly the door was flung open, and a tall, lean, lantern-jawed fellow, clad in rough frieze, strode into the room and stood there, glaring, with half-frightened boldness around about him, three or four women and the trembling schoolyon crowded together in a frightened group behind him. The man was long Jacob the bowman. But after all his boldness was all wasted, for not a thread or a hare was to be seen, but only the crackling fire throwing its cheerful, ruddy glow upon the wall of the room, now rapidly darkening in the falling gray of the twilight without. The fat cook's fright began rapidly to turn into anger. "'Thou imp!' she cried, it is one of thy tricks! And she made a dive for the schoolyon, who ducked around the skirts of one of the other women, and so escaped for the time. But long Jacob wrinkled up his nose and sniffed. "'Nay,' he said, me thinks that there lieeth some truth in the tale that the boy hath told, for here is a vile smell of burned horn that the black one hath left behind him. It was the smell from the soft leather shoes that Hans had burned. The silence of night had fallen over the castle of Trute-Strocken. Not a sound was heard but the squeaking of mice scurrying behind the wainscotting, the dull dripping of moisture from the eaves, or the sighing of the night wind around the gables and through the naked windows of the castle. The lid of the great dough trough was softly raised, and a face, black with soot, peeped cautiously out from under it, then little by little arose a figure as black as the face, and one eyed Hans stepped out upon the floor, stretching and rubbing himself. "'Nay, thinks I must have slept,' he muttered. "'Oi! I am as stiff as a new leather doublet! And now what is next to become of me? I hope my luck may yet stick to me in spite of this foul black soot!' Along the middle of the front of the great hall of the castle ran a long stone gallery, opening at one end upon the courtyard by a high flight of stone steps, a man at arms in breastplate and steel cap, and bearing a long pike, paced up and down the length of this gallery, now and then stopping, leaning over the edge and gazing up into the starry sky above, then with a long, drawn yawn, lazily turning back to the monotonous watch again, a dark figure crept out from an arched doorway at the lower part of the long straight building, and some little distance below the end gallery, but the sentry saw nothing of it, for his back was turned, as silently and as stealthily as a cat, the figure crawled along by the dark shadowy wall, now and then stopping, and then again creeping slowly forward toward the gallery where the man at arms moved monotonously, up and down. It was one-eyed haunts in his bare feet. Inch by inch, foot by foot, the black figure crawled along the angle of the wall, inch by inch, and foot by foot, but ever nearer and nearer to the long straight row of stone steps that led to the covered gallery. At last it crouched at the lowest step of the flight. Just then the sentinel upon watch came to the very end of the gallery, and stood there leaning upon his spear. When he looked down below he could not have failed to have seen one-eyed haunts lying there motionlessly. But he was gazing far away, over the steep black roofs beyond, and never saw the unsuspected presence. Minute after minute passed, and the one stood there looking out into the night, and the other leg crouching by the wall. Then with the weary sigh the sentry turned and began slowly pacing back again toward the farther end of the gallery. Instantly the motionless figure below arose and glided noiselessly and swiftly up the flight of steps. Two rude stone pillars flanked either side of the end of the gallery. Like a shadow the black figure slipped behind one of them, flattening itself up against the wall, where it stood straight and motionless as the shadows around it. Upon the long gallery came the watchman, his sword clinking loudly in the silence as he walked. Tramp, tramp, tramp! Clink, clank, jingle! Within three feet of the motionless figure behind the pillar he turned, and began retracing his monotonous steps. Instantly the other left the shadow of the post and crept rapidly and stealthily after him. One step, two steps the sentinel took. For a moment the black figure behind him seemed to crouch and draw together. Then like a flash it leapt forward upon his victim. A shadowy cloth fell upon the man's face, and in an instant he was flung back and down with a muffled crash upon the stones. Then followed a fierce and silent struggle in the darkness, but strong and sturdy as the man was he was no match for the almost superhuman strength of one-eyed haunts. The cloth which he had flung over his head was tied tightly and securely. Then the man was forced upon his face, and in spite of his fierce struggles his arms were bound, around and around with strong fine cord. Next his feet were bound in the same way, and the task was done. Then Han stood upon his feet, and wiped the sweat from his swarthy forehead. "'Listen, brother,' he whispered, and as he spoke he stooped and pressed something cold and hard against the neck of the other. Does thou know the feel of this? It is a broad dagger, and if thou dost contrive to lose that gag from thy mouth and make an outcry, it shall be sheathed, and thy weasened.' So sane he thrust the knife back again into its sheath. Then stooping and picking up the other he flung him across his shoulder like a sack, running down the steps as lightly as though his load was nothing at all. He carried his burden to the arch-store way, whence he had come a little while before. There having first stripped his prisoner of all his weapons, Han set the man up in the angle of the wall. "'So, brother,' he said, now we can talk with some more ease than we could up yonder. I will tell thee frankly why I am here. It is to find where the young barren auto of Drakkenhausen is kept. "'If thou canst tell me, well and good. If not, I must even cut thy weasened and find me one who knoweth more. Now, canst thou tell me what I would learn, brother?' The other nodded dimly in the darkness. "'That is good,' said Hans. "'Then I will loose thy gag until thou hast told me. Only bear in mind what I said concerning my dagger. Thereupon he unbound his prisoner, and the fellow slowly rose to his feet. He shook himself, and looked all about him in a heavy bewildered fashion, as though he had just awakened from a dream. His right hand slid furtively down to his side, but the dagger sheath was empty. "'Come, brother,' said Hans impatiently, time is passing, and once lost can never be found again. Show me the way to the young barren auto, or?' And he whetted the shining blade of his dagger on his horny palm. The fellow needed no further bidding. Turning he led the way, and together they were swallowed up in the yawning shadows, and again the hush of the night-time lay upon the castle of Trutes-Drocken. Auto of the Silver Hand, by Howard Pyle. CHAPTER XI. HOW AUTO WAS SAVED Little Otto was lying upon the hard couch in his cell, tossing in restless and feverish sleep. Suddenly a heavy hand was laid upon him, and a voice whispered in his ear. "'Waken! Rouse yourself! I am come to help you! I am One-Eyed Hans!' Otto was awakened an instant, and raised himself upon his elbow in the darkness. One-Eyed Hans,' he breathed, "'One-Eyed Hans! Who is One-Eyed Hans?' "'True,' said the other, "'thou dost not know me. I am thy father's trusted servant, and am the only one accepting his own blood and kin, who has clung to him during this hour of trouble. Yes, all are gone but me alone, and so I have come to help thee away from this vile place. "'Oh, dear good Hans, if only thou canst,' cried Otto, "'if only thou canst take me away from this wicked place. Alas, dear Hans! I am weary and sick to death. A poor little Otto began to weep silently in the darkness. "'I, I,' said Hans gruffly, "'it is no place for little child to be. Canst thou climb, my little master? Canst thou climb a knotted rope?' "'Nay,' said little Otto, "'I can never climb again. See, Hans?' and he flung back the covers from off him. "'I cannot see,' said Hans. "'It is too dark.' "'Then feel, dear Hans,' said Otto. Hans bent over the poor little white figure, glimmering palely in the darkness. Suddenly he drew back with a snarl like an angry wolf. "'Oh, the black bloody wretches,' he cried hoarsely. "'And they have done that to thee, a little child.' "'Yes,' said Otto. "'The Baron Henry did it.' And he began to cry. "'There, there,' said Hans gruffly, "'weep no more. Thou shalt get away from here, even if thou canst not climb. I, myself, will help thee. Thy father is already waiting below the window here, and thou shalt soon be with him. There, there, cry no more.' While he was speaking, Hans had stripped off his peddler's leather jacket, and there, around his body, was wrapped coil after coil of stout hempen rope tied in knots at short distances. He began unwinding the rope, and when he had done, he was as thin as ever he had been before. Next he drew from the pouch that hung at his side a ball of fine cord and a leaden weight pierced by a hole, both of which he had brought with him for the use to which he now put them. He tied the lead to the end of the cord, then whirling the weight about his head, he flung it upward toward the window high above. Twice the piece of lead fell back again into the room. The third time it flew out between the iron bars, carrying the cord with it. Hans held the ball in his hand and paid out the string as the weight carried it downward and toward the ground beneath. Suddenly the cord stopped running. Hans jerked it and shook it, but it moved no farther. Pray heaven, little child, said he, that it hath reached the ground, for if it hath not, we are certainly lost. I do pray, said Otto, and he bowed his head. Then, as though in answer to his prayer, there came a twitch upon the cord. See, said Hans, they have heard the up above in heaven. It was thy father who did that. Quickly and deftly he tied the cord to the end of the knotted rope. Then he gave an answering jerk upon the string. The next moment the rope was drawn up to the window and down the outside by those below. Otto lay watching the rope as it crawled up to the window and out to the night like a great snake, while one eyed Hans held the other end, lest it should be drawn too far. At last it stopped. Good! Muttered Hans, as so to himself, the rope is long enough. He waited for a few minutes, and then, drawing upon the rope and finding that it was held from below, he spat upon his hands and began slowly climbing up to the window above. Winding his arm about the iron bars of the grating that guarded it, he thrust his hand into the pouch that hung by his side, and drawing forth a file fell to work cutting through all that now lay between Otto and Liberty. It was slow, slow work, and it seemed to Otto as though Hans would never finish his task, as lying upon his hard couch he watched that figure black against the sky, bending over its work. Now and then the file would screech against the hard iron, and then Hans would cease for a moment, but only to begin again as industriously as ever. Three or four times he tried the effects of his work, but still the iron held. At last he set his shoulder against it, and as Otto looked he saw the iron penned. Suddenly there was a sharp crack and a piece of the grating went flying out into the night. Hans tied the rope securely about the stump of the stout iron bar that yet remained, then slid slowly down again into the room below. My little lord, said he, does thou think that if I carry thee thou wilt be able and strong enough to cling to my neck? I, said Otto, me thinks I will be able to do that. Then come, said Hans. He stooped as he spoke, and gently lifting Otto from his rude and rugged bed, he drew his broad leathern belt around them both, buckling it firmly and securely. It does not hurt thee, said he. Not much, whispered Otto faintly. Then Hans spat upon his hands and began slowly climbing the rope. They reached the edge of the window, and there they rested for a moment, and Otto renewed his hold about the neck of the faithful Hans. And now are thou ready, said Hans. I, said Otto, then courage, said Hans, and he turned and swung his leg over the abyss below. The next moment they were hanging in mid-air. Otto looked down and gave a gasp. The mother of heaven bless us, he whispered, and then closed his eyes, faint and dizzy at the sight of that sheer depth beneath. Hans said nothing, but shutting his teeth and wrapping his legs around the rope, he began slowly descending, hand under hand. Down, down, down he went. Until to Otto, with his eyes shut and his head leaning upon Hans's shoulder, it seemed as though it could never end. Down, down, down. Suddenly he felt Hans draw a deep breath. There was a slight jar, and Otto opened his eyes. Hans was standing upon the ground. A figure wrapped in a dark cloak arose from the shadow of the wall, and took Otto in its arms. It was Baron Conrad. My son, my little child, he cried, in a choked, trembling voice, and that was all. And Otto pressed his cheek against his father's and began crying. Suddenly the Baron gave a sharp, fierce cry. Dear heaven, he cried, what have they done to thee? But poor little Otto could not answer. Oh, gasped the Baron in a strangled voice. My little child, my little child! And therewith he broke down, and his whole body shook, with fierce dry sobs. For men in these days did not seek to hide their grief as they do now, but were fierce and strong in the expression of that as of all else. Never mind, dear father, whispered Otto. It does not hurt me so very much. And he pressed his lips against his father's cheek. Little Otto had but one hand. End of Chapter 11. CHAPTER XII. OF AUTO OF THE SILVER HAND. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Brett Condren. AUTO OF THE SILVER HAND. By Howard Pyle. CHAPTER XII. A RIDE FOR LIFE. But not yet was Otto safe and all danger passed and gone by. Suddenly as they stood there, the harsh clanger of a bell broke the silence of the starry night above their heads. And as they raised their faces and looked up, they saw lights flashing from window to window. Presently came the sound of a horse voice shouting something that from the distance they could not understand. One eyed Han smote his hand upon his thigh. Look, said he, here is what comes of having a soft heart in one's bosom. I overcame and bound a watchman up yonder and forced him to tell me where our young Baron lay. It was on my mind to run my knife into him after he had told me everything. But then, but thinking how the young Baron hated the thought of bloodshed, I said to myself, no, Hans, I will spare the villain's life. See now what comes of being merciful? Here, by hook or by crook, the fellow has loosed himself from his bonds and brings the whole castle about our ears like a nest of wasps. We must fly, said the Baron. For nothing else in the world has left me, now that all have deserted me in this black time of trouble, accepting these six faithful ones. His voice was bitter, bitter as he spoke. Then, stooping, he raised on over his arms, and bearing him gently began rapidly dissenting the rocky slope to the level road that ran along the edge of the hill beneath. Close behind him followed the rest, Hans still rimmed with soot and in his bare feet. A little distance from the road and under the shade of the forest trees, seven horses stood waiting. The Baron mounted upon his great black charger, seating little Otto upon the saddle in front of him. Forward, he cried, and away they clattered and out upon the road. Then, to Tsangtmikesburg, said Baron Conrad, in his deep voice, and the horses' heels were turned to the westward, and away they galloped through the black shadows of the forest, leaving Trutzdraken behind them. But still, the sound of the alarm bell rang through the beating of the horses' hooves, and as Hans looked over his shoulder, he saw the light of torches flashing hither and thither along the outer walls in front of the great Barbican. In Castle Trutzdraken, all was confusion and uproar, flashing torches lit up the dull gray walls. Horses nade and stamped, and men shouted and called to one another in the bustle of making ready. Presently, Baron Henry came striding along the corridor, clad in light armor, which he had hastily dawned when roused from his sleep by the news that his prisoner had escaped. Below, in the courtyard, his horse was standing, and without waiting for assistance, he swung himself into the saddle. Then, away they all rode, and down the steep path, armor-ringing, swords clinking, and iron shod hooves striking sparks of fire from the hard stones. At their head rode Baron Henry, his triangular shield hung over his shoulder, and in his hand he wore a long, heavy, steel-pointed lance with a penent flickering darkly from the end. At the high road, at the base of the slope, they paused, for they were at a loss to know which direction the fugitives had taken. A half a score of the retainers leaped from their horses and began hurrying about hither and thither, and up and down, like hounds searching for the lost scent. And all the time Baron Henry sat still as a rock in the midst of the confusion. Suddenly, a shout was raised from the forest just beyond the road. They had come upon the place where the horses had been tied. It was an easy matter to trace the way that Baron Conrad and his followers had taken thence back to the high road, but there again they were still at a loss. The road ran straight as a narrow eastward and westward. Had the fugitives taken their way to the east or to the west? Baron Henry called his headman, Nicholas Stein, to him, and the two spoke together for a while in an undertone. At last the Baron's lieutenant reigned his horse back in choosing first one, then another, divided the company into two parties. The Baron placed himself at the head of one band and Nicholas Stein at the head of the other. Forward he cried, and away clattered the two companies of horsemen in opposite directions. It was toward the westward that Baron Henry of Trotsrachen rode at the head of his men. The early springtide sun shot its rays of misty yellow light across the rolling tops of the forest trees, where the little birds were singing in the glory of the May morning. But Baron Henry and his followers thought nothing of the beauty of the peaceful day, and heard nothing of the multiteness sound of the birds singing. As with the confused sound of galloping hooves they swept along the highway, leaving behind them a slow, curling, low-trailing cloud of dust. As the sun rose more full and warm the misty wreaths began to dissolve until at last they parted and rolled asunder like a white curtain, and there before the pursuing horsemen lay the crest of the mountain toward which they were riding, and up which the road wound steeply. �Yonder they are!� cried a sudden voice behind Baron Henry of Trotsrachen, and at the cry they all looked upward, far away upon the mountain side curled the cloud of dust from the midst of which came a star-like flash of burnished armour gleaming in the sun. Baron Henry never said a word, but his lips curled in a grim smile. And as the mistreats parted one eyed haunts looked behind and down into the leafy valley beneath. �Yonder they come!� said he. �They have followed sharply to gain so much upon us. Even though our horses are wearied with all the travelling we have done hither and yawn these five days past. How far is it, Lord Baron? From here to Michelsburg? �About ten leagues!� said the Baron in a gloomy voice. Hans puckered his mouth as though to whistle, but the Baron saw nothing of it for he was gazing straight before him with a set and stony face. Those who followed looked at one another and the same thought was in the mind of each. How long would it be before those who pursued would close the distance between them? When that happened it meant death to one and all. They reached the crest of the hill and down they dashed upon the one side. For there the road was smooth and level as it sloped away into the valley, but it was in dead silence that they rode. Now and then those who followed the Baron looked back over their shoulders. They had gained a mile upon their pursuers when the helmeted heads rose above the crest of the mountain, but what was the gain of a mile with a smooth road between them and fresh horses to weary ones? On they rode and on they rode. The sun rose higher and higher and hotter and hotter. There was no time to rest in water their panting horses. Only once when they crossed a shallow stretch of water the poor animals bent their heads and caught a few gulps from the cool stream, and the one-eyed Hans washed apart of the soot from his face and hands. On and on they rode. Never once did the Baron Conrad move his head or alter that steadfast look as gazing straight before him he rode steadily forward along the endless stretch of road with poor little autos yellow head and white face resting against his steel clad shoulder, and St. Michel's book Still Eight Leagues Away. A little rise of ground lay before them, and as they climbed it all accepting the Baron turned their heads as with one accord and looked behind them. Then more than one heart failed, for through the leaves of the trees below they caught the glint of the armor of those who followed, not more than a mile away. In the next moment they swept over the crest and there below them lay the broad shining river and nearer a tributary stream spanned by a rude narrow three-arch stone bridge where they crossed the deep, slow-moving water. Down the slope plotted the weary horses and so to the bridgehead. Halt! cried the Baron suddenly and drew rain, the others should be wielded. What did he mean to do? He turned to Hans and his blue eyes shone like steel. Hans, said he in his deep voice, thou hast served me long and truly. Wilt thou for this one last time do my bidding? I, said Hans briefly, swear it, said the Baron. I swear it, said Hans, and he drew the sign of the cross upon his heart. That is good, said the Baron grimly. Then take thou this child and with the others ride with all the speed thou canst St. Michael'sburg. Give the child into the charge of the Abbot Otto. Tell him how that I have sworn my fealty to the Emperor and what I have gained thereby. My castle burnt, my people slain, and this poor simple child, my only son, mutilated by my enemy. And thou, Lord Baron, said Hans, I will stay here, said the Baron quietly, and keep back those who follow as long as God will give me grace to do so. A murmur of remonstrance rose among the faithful few who were with him, two of whom were near of kin, but Conrad of Drakkenhausen turned fiercely upon them. How now, said he, have I fallen so low in my troubles that even ye dare to raise your voices against me? By the good heaven I will begin my work here by slaying the first man who dares to raise word against my bidding. Then he turned from them. Hear Hans, said he, take the boy and remember, Nave, what thou hast sworn. He pressed Otto close to his breast in one last embrace. My little child, he murmured, Try not to hate thy father when thou thinkest of him here, even though he be hard and bloody as thou knowest. But with his suffering and weakness, little Otto knew nothing of what was passing. It was only as in a faint flickering dream that he lived in what was done around him. Farewell, Otto, said the Baron, but Otto's lips only moved faintly in answer. His father kissed him upon either cheek. Come, Hans, he said hastily. Take him hence. And he loosed Otto's arms from about his neck. Hans took Otto upon the saddle in front of him. O my dear Lord Baron, said he, and then stopped with a gulp and turned his grotesquely twitching face aside. Go, said the Baron harshly. There is no time to lose in woman's tears. Farewell, Conrad, farewell, Conrad, said his two kinsmen. And coming forward they kissed him upon the cheek. Then they turned and rode away after Hans, and Baron Conrad was left alone to his mortal foe. Chapter 13 How Baron Conrad Held the Bridge As the last of his followers swept around the curving road and was lost to sight, Baron Conrad gave himself a shake, as though to drive away the thoughts that lay upon him. Then he rode slowly forward to the middle of the bridge, where he wheeled his horse, so as to face his coming enemies. He lowered the visor of his helmet, and bolted it to its place. And then saw that sword and dagger were loose in the scabbard, and easy to draw when the need for drawing should arise. Down the steep path from the hill above swept the pursuing horseman. Down the steep path to the bridgehead, and there drew rain, for in the middle of the narrow way sat the motionless steel-clad figure upon the great war-horse, with wide-red panting nostrils, and bodies strict with sweat and flecked with patches of foam. One side of the road-wave the bridge was guarded by a low stone wall, the other side was naked and open and bare to the deep, slow-moving water beneath. It was a dangerous place to attack a desperate man, clad in armour of proof. Forward, cried Baron Henry, but not a soul stirred in answer, and still the iron-clad figure sat motionless and erect upon the panting horse. How! cried the Baron Henry, are you afraid of one man? Then follow me! And he spurred forward to the bridgehead. But still no one moved in answer, and the Lord of Trutzdrakken reigned back his horse again. He wheeled his horse and glared around upon the stolid faces of his followers, until his eyes seemed fairly to blaze with passion, beneath the bars of his visor. Baron Conrad gave a roar of laughter. How! now he cried! Are you all afraid of one man? Is there none among you that dares come forward and meet me? I know thee, Baron Henry, thou art not afraid to cut off the hand of a little child. Hast thou not now the courage to face the father? Baron Henry gnashed his teeth with rage as he glared upon the faces of his men at arms. Suddenly his eyes lit upon one of them. Ha! Carl Spigler! he cried. Thou hast thy crossbow with thee. Shoot me down, yonder dog! Nay! he said. Thou canst do him no harm under his armor. Shoot the horse upon which he sits. Baron Conrad heard the speech. Oh! thou coward villain! he cried. Stay! Do not shoot the good horse. I will dismount and fight him. Thereupon, armed as he was, he leapt, clashing from his horse and turning the animal's head gave it a slap upon the flank. The good horse first trotted and then walked to the further end of the bridge, but it stopped and began cropping at the grass that grew beside the road. Now, then, cried Baron Henry fiercely, now then you cannot fear him. Villains, down with him, forward. Slowly they spurred their horses forward upon the bridge and toward that one figure that grasping tightly the great two-handed sword stood there alone, guarding the passage. Then Baron Conrad whirled the great blade above his head until it caught the sunlight and flashed again. He did not wait for the attack, for when the first of the advancing horseman had come within a few feet of him, but he was left with a shout upon them. The fellow thrust at him with his lands and the Baron went staggering a few feet back, but instantly he recovered himself and again leapt forward. The great sword flashed in the air, whistling it fell and the nearest man dropped his lands, clattering, and with a loud and articulate cry grasped the main of his horse with both hands. Again the blade whistled in the air and this time it was stained with red. Again it fell and with another shrill cry the man toppled head long beneath the horse's feet. The next instant they were upon him, each striving to strike at the one figure to ride him down or to thrust him down with their lances. Baron Conrad thrust with it as though it were a lance. Stabbing at horse or man it mattered not. Crowded upon the narrow roadway of the bridge, those who attacked had not only to guard themselves against the dreadful strokes of that terrible sword, but to keep their wounded horses rearing a mad with fright from toppling bodily over with them into the water beneath. Presently the cry was raised back, back and those nearest the Baron began raining in their horses forward, roared Baron Henry from the midst of the crowd. But in spite of his command and even the blows that he gave those behind were born back by those in front, struggling and shouting and the bridge was cleared again, accepting for three figures that lay motionless upon the roadway and that one who with the brightness of his armor dimmed and stained leaned panting against the wall of the bridge. The Baron Henry rage like a madman, gnashing his teeth together he rode back a little way, then turning and couching his lance he suddenly clapped spurs to his horse and the next instant came thundering down upon his solitary enemy. Baron Conrad whirled his sword in the air as he saw the other take a thunderbolt upon him he leapt aside and the lance passed close to him as it passed he struck and the iron point flew from the shaft of the spear at the blow and fell clattering upon the stone roadway of the bridge. Baron Henry drew in his horse until it rested upon its haunches then slowly rained it backward down the bridge still facing his foe and still holding the wooden stump another lance in his hand at the bridge head he flung it from him another lance he cried hoarsely one was silently reached to him and he took it his hand trembling with rage again he rode to a little distance and wheeled his horse then driving his steel spurs into its quivering side he came again thundering down upon the other terrible sword whirled in the air and fell but this time the lance was snatched to one side and the blow fell harmlessly the next instant and with a twitch of the bridal rain the horse struck full and fair against the man Conrad of Drakenhausen was whirled backward and downward and the cruel iron hoofs crashed over his prostrate body as horse and man passed with a rush beyond him and to the bridge beyond a shout went up from those who stood watching the next moment the prostrate figure rose and staggered blindly to the side of the bridge and stood leaning against the stone wall at the further end of the bridge Baron Henry had wheeled his horse once again he couched lance and again he drove down upon his bruised and wounded enemy this time the lance struck full and fair and those who watched saw the steel point pierced the iron breast plate and then snapped short leaving the barved point within the wound Baron Conrad sunk to his knees and the roderberg looming upon his horse above him unsheathed his sword to finish the work he had begun then those who stood looking on saw a wondrous thing happen the wounded man rose suddenly to his feet and before his enemy could strike he leaped with a great and bitter cry of agony and despair upon him as he sat in the saddle above Henry of Trutzdrakken grasped at the horse's mane but the attack was so fierce so sudden and so unexpected that before he could save himself he was dragged to one side and fell crashing in his armour upon the stone roadway of the bridge the dragon the dragon roared in a voice of thunder and with the energy of despair he dragged his prostrate foe toward the open side of the bridge forward cried the chief of the Trutzdrakken men and down they rode upon the struggling knights to the rescue of their master in this new danger but they were too late there was a pause at the edge of the bridge for Baron Henry had gained his feet and stunned and bewildered as he was by the suddenness of his fall he was now struggling fiercely desperately for a moment they stood swaying backward and forward clasped in one another's arms the blood from the wounded man's breast staining the armour of both the moment passed and then with a shower of stones and mortar from beneath their iron shot heels they toppled and fell there was a thunderous splash in the water below and as the men at arms came hurry up and peered with awestruck faces of the parapet of the bridge they saw the whirling eddies sweep down with the current of the stream a few bubbles rise to the surface of the water and there nothing for the smooth river flowed onward as silent as ever presently a loud voice burst through the odd hush that followed it came from William of Roderberg Baron Henry's Kinsman forward he cried a murmur of voices from the others was all the answer that he'd received forward cried the young man again the boy and those with him are not so far away that we might yet catch up with them then one of the men spoke up in answer a man with a seemed weather-beaten face and crisp grizzled hair and he said he our Lord Baron is gone this is no quarrel of ours here be four of us that are wounded and three I missed out that are dead why should we follow further only to suffer more blows for no gain a growl of ascent rose from those that stood around and William of Roderberg saw that nothing more was to be done by their truts dragons that day End of chapter Otto of the Silver Hand Chapter 14 from the book of books all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information and to find out how you can volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Otto of the Silver Hand by Howard Pyle Chapter 14 How Otto Saw the Great Emperor Through weakness and sickness and fakeness Otto had lain in a half swoon through all that long journey the hot May sun it was as in a dreadful nightmare that he had heard on and on and on that monotonous throbbing of galloping hooves upon the ground had felt that last kiss that his father had given him upon his cheek then the onward ride again until all faded away into a dull mist and he knew no more when next he woke it was with the pungent smell of burned vinegar in his nostrils and with the feeling of a cool napkin bathing his brow he opened his eyes and then closed them again thinking he must have been in a dream for he lay in his old room at the peaceful monastery of the White Cross on the hill the good father Abbott sat nearby gazing upon his face with the old absent student look brother John sat in the deep window seat also gazing at him and brother Theodore the leech of the monastery sat beside him bathing his head beside these old familiar faces were the faces of those who had been with him in that long flight the one eyed hans old master Nicholas his kinsman and the others so he closed his eyes thinking that maybe it was all a dream for the sharp throbbing of the poor stump at his wrist soon taught him that he was still awake am I then really home in St. Michael's Burg again? he murmured without enclosing his eyes brother Theodore began snuffling through his nose there was a pause yes said the old Abbott at last and his gentle voice trembled as he spoke yes my dear little child thou art back again in thine own home thou hast not been long out in the great world but truly thou hast had a sharp and bitter trial of it but they will not take me away again will they? said Otto quickly and closing his blue eyes nay said the Abbott gently not until thou art healed in body and art ready and willing to go three months or more had passed and Otto was well again and now escorted by one eyed hans and those faithful few who had clung to the barren Conrad through his last few bitter days he was riding into the quaint old town of Nuremberg for the Emperor Rudolph was there at that time waiting for King Otto Carbohemia to come hither and answer the imperial summons before the council and Otto was travelling to the court as they rode in through the gates of the town Otto looked up at the high peaked houses with their overhanging gables the like of which he had never seen before and he stared with his round blue eyes at seeing them so crowded together along the length of the street but most of all he wondered at the number of people that passed hither and hither jostling each other in their hurry and at the tradesmen's booths opening upon the street with the wonderful wares hanging within armour of the smiths glittering ornaments of the goldsmiths and rich fabrics of silks and satins of the mercers he had never seen anything so rich and grand in all of his life oh look he cried at that wonderful lady see Holy Father sure the Emperor's wife can be no finer than that lady the abbot smiled nay Otto said he that is but a burger's wife or daughter the ladies of the Emperor's court are far grander than such as she so said Otto and then fell silent in wonder and now at last the great moment had come when little Otto with his own eyes was to behold the mighty Emperor who ruled over all the powerful kingdoms of Germany and Austria and Italy and Bohemia and other kingdoms and principalities and states his heart beat so that it could hardly speak as for a moment the good abbot who held him by the hand stopped outside of the Arras doorway to whisper some last instructions into his ear then they entered the apartment it was a long stone paved room the floor was covered with rich rugs and the walls were hung with woven tapestry wherein were depicted knights and ladies in leafy gardens and kings and warriors at battle a long row of high glazed windows extended along the length of the apartment flooding it with the mellow light of the autumn day at the further end of the room far away and standing by a great carved chimney-place wherein smouldered the remains of a fire stood a group of nobles in gorgeous dress of velvet and silks and with glittering golden chains hung about their necks one figure stood alone in front of the great yawning fireplace his hands were clasped behind him and his look bent thoughtfully upon the floor he was dressed only in a simple grey robe without ornament or adornment a plain leather belt girded his waist and from it hung a sword with a bone hilt encased in a brown leadon scabbard a noble staghound lay close behind him curled up upon the floor basking in the great full warmth of the fire as the father Abbott and Otto drew near he raised his head and looked at them it was a plain homely face that Otto saw with a wrinkled forehead and a long mouth drawn at the corners it was the face of a good honest burger burdened with the cares of a prosperous trade who can he be? thought Otto and why does the poor man stand there among all the great nobles but the Abbott walked straight up to him and kneeled upon the floor little Otto full of wonder did the same it was the great emperor Rudolf who have we here? said the emperor and he bent his brow upon the Abbott and the boy Sire said Abbott Otto we have humbly besought you by petition in the name of your late vassal Baron Conrad of wealth of Drakenhausen but justice to this his son the Baron Otto whom Sire, as you may see have been cruelly mutilated at the hands of Baron Henry of Roderberg of Trutzdraken he have moreover been despoiled of his lands, his castle burnt and his household made prisoner the emperor frowned until the shaggy eyebrows nearly hit the keen grey twinkle of the eyes beneath yes said he I do remember me of that petition and have given it consideration both in private and in council he turned to the group of listening nobles look said he poor little child, marred by the inhumanity and the cruelty of those robber villains by heaven I will put down their lawless repine if I have to give every castle from the north to the south to the flames and to the sword then turning to Otto again poor little child said he thy wrong shall be righted and so far as they are able those cruel roderbergs shall pay the penny for penny and grain for grain for what thou has lost and until such indemnity have been paid the family of the man who wrought this deed shall be held as surety little Otto looked up at the kind rugged face above him Nay Lord Emperor said he and his quaint quiet way these are but two in the family the mother and the daughter and I have promised to marry the little girl when she and I are old enough so if you please I would not have harm happen to her the Emperor continued to look down at the kneeling boy and at last he gave a short dry laugh so be it said he thy plan is not without its wisdom may have it is all for the best that the affairs should be ended thus peacefully the estate of the roderberg shall be held in trust for thee until thou art come of age otherwise it shall be as thou hast proposed the little maiden shall be taken into ward under our own care and as to thee art thou willing that I should take thee under my own charge in the room of thy father who is dead I said Otto simply I am willing for it seems to me thou art a good man the nobles who stood near smiled at the boy's speech as for the Emperor he laughed outright I give thee thanks my Lord Baron said he there is no one in all my court who has paid me greater courtesy than that so comes the end of our tale but perhaps you may like to know what happened afterwards for no one cares to leave the thread of a story without tying a knot in it eight years had passed and Otto grew up to manhood in the Emperor's court and was with him through war and peace but he himself never drew sword or struck a blow for the right hand that hung at his side was of pure silver and the hard cold fingers never closed folks called him Otto of the silver hand but perhaps there was another reason than that for the name that had been given him for the pure simple wisdom that the old monks of the white cross on the hill had taught him clung to him through all the honours that the Emperor bestowed upon his favourite and as he grew older his words were listened to and weighed by those who were high in the council and even by the Emperor himself and now for the end of all one day Otto stood done certainly at the doorway of a room in the Imperial Castle hesitating before he entered and yet there was nothing so very dreadful within only one poor girl whose heart fluttered more than his poor little Pauline whom he had not seen since that last day in the black cell at Trutzdrakken at last he pushed aside the hangings and entered the room she was sitting upon a rude bench beside the window looking at him out of her great dark eyes he stopped short and stood for a moment confused and silent for he had no thought in his mind but of the little girl whom he had last seen and for a moment he stood confused before the fair maiden with her great beautiful dark eyes she on her part beheld a tall slender youth with curling golden hair one hand white and delicate the other of pure and shining silver he came to her and took her hand and set it to his lips and all that she could do was to gaze with her great dark eyes upon the hero of whom she had heard so many talk the favourite of the emperor the wise young Otto of the silver hand End of Part 14