OTTO OF THE SILVER HAND

By Howard Pyle

CONTENTS

 I. The Dragon's House, II. How the Baron Went Forth to Shear, III. How the Baron Came Home Shorn, IV. The White Cross on the Hill, V. How Otto Dwelt at St. Michaelsburg, VI. How Otto Lived in the Dragon's House, VII. The Red Cock Crows on Drachenhausen, VIII. In the House of the Dragon Scorner, IX. How One-eyed Hans Came to Trutz-Drachen, X. How Hans Brought Terror to the Kitchen, XI. How Otto was Saved, XII. A Ride for Life, XIII. How Baron Conrad Held the Bridge, XIV. How Otto Saw the Great Emperor, FOREWORD. 

Between the far away past history of the world, and that which lies nearto us; in the time when the wisdom of the ancient times was dead andhad passed away, and our own days of light had not yet come, there lay agreat black gulf in human history, a gulf of ignorance, of superstition, of cruelty, and of wickedness. 

That time we call the dark or middle ages. 

Few records remain to us of that dreadful period in our world's history, and we only know of it through broken and disjointed fragments that havebeen handed down to us through the generations. 

Yet, though the world's life then was so wicked and black, there yetremained a few good men and women here and there (mostly in peacefuland quiet monasteries, far from the thunder and the glare of the worldsbloody battle), who knew the right and the truth and lived according towhat they knew; who preserved and tenderly cared for the truths that thedear Christ taught, and lived and died for in Palestine so long ago. 

This tale that I am about to tell is of a little boy who lived andsuffered in those dark middle ages; of how he saw both the good and thebad of men, and of how, by gentleness and love and not by strife andhatred, he came at last to stand above other men and to be looked up toby all. And should you follow the story to the end, I hope you may findit a pleasure, as I have done, to ramble through those dark ancientcastles, to lie with little Otto and Brother John in the highbelfry-tower, or to sit with them in the peaceful quiet of the sunnyold monastery garden, for, of all the story, I love best those earlypeaceful years that little Otto spent in the dear old White Cross on theHill. 

Poor little Otto's life was a stony and a thorny pathway, and it is wellfor all of us nowadays that we walk it in fancy and not in truth. 

I. The Dragon's House. 

Up from the gray rocks, rising sheer and bold and bare, stood the wallsand towers of Castle Drachenhausen. A great gate-way, with a heavyiron-pointed portcullis hanging suspended in the dim arch above, yawnedblackly upon the bascule or falling drawbridge that spanned a chasmbetween the blank stone walls and the roadway that winding down thesteep rocky slope to the little valley just beneath. There in the lap ofthe hills around stood the wretched straw-thatched huts of the peasantsbelonging to the castle--miserable serfs who, half timid, half fierce, tilled their poor patches of ground, wrenching from the hard soil barelyenough to keep body and soul together. Among those vile hovels playedthe little children like foxes about their dens, their wild, fierce eyespeering out from under a mat of tangled yellow hair. 

Beyond these squalid huts lay the rushing, foaming river, spanned by ahigh, rude, stone bridge where the road from the castle crossed it, andbeyond the river stretched the great, black forest, within whose gloomydepths the savage wild beasts made their lair, and where in winter timethe howling wolves coursed their flying prey across the moonlit snow andunder the net-work of the black shadows from the naked boughs above. 

The watchman in the cold, windy bartizan or watch-tower that clung tothe gray walls above the castle gateway, looked from his narrow window, where the wind piped and hummed, across the tree-tops that rolled inendless billows of green, over hill and over valley to the blue anddistant slope of the Keiserberg, where, on the mountain side, glimmeredfar away the walls of Castle Trutz-Drachen. 

Within the massive stone walls through which the gaping gateway led, three great cheerless brick buildings, so forbidding that even theyellow sunlight could not light them into brightness, looked down, withrow upon row of windows, upon three sides of the bleak, stone courtyard. Back of and above them clustered a jumble of other buildings, tower andturret, one high-peaked roof overtopping another. 

The great house in the centre was the Baron's Hall, the part to the leftwas called the Roderhausen; between the two stood a huge square pile, rising dizzily up into the clear air high above the rest--the greatMelchior Tower. 

At the top clustered a jumble of buildings hanging high aloft in thewindy space a crooked wooden belfry, a tall, narrow watch-tower, and arude wooden house that clung partly to the roof of the great tower andpartly to the walls. 

From the chimney of this crazy hut a thin thread of smoke would now andthen rise into the air, for there were folk living far up in that empty, airy desert, and oftentimes wild, uncouth little children were seenplaying on the edge of the dizzy height, or sitting with their barelegs hanging down over the sheer depths, as they gazed below at what wasgoing on in the court-yard. There they sat, just as little children inthe town might sit upon their father's door-step; and as the sparrowsmight fly around the feet of the little town children, so the circlingflocks of rooks and daws flew around the feet of these air-borncreatures. 

It was Schwartz Carl and his wife and little ones who lived far up therein the Melchior Tower, for it overlooked the top of the hill behind thecastle and so down into the valley upon the further side. There, dayafter day, Schwartz Carl kept watch upon the gray road that ran like aribbon through the valley, from the rich town of Gruenstaldt to the richtown of Staffenburgen, where passed merchant caravans from the one tothe other--for the lord of Drachenhausen was a robber baron. 

Dong! Dong! The great alarm bell would suddenly ring out from the belfryhigh up upon the Melchior Tower. Dong! Dong! Till the rooks and dawswhirled clamoring and screaming. Dong! Dong! Till the fierce wolf-houndsin the rocky kennels behind the castle stables howled dismally inanswer. Dong! Dong!--Dong! Dong!

Then would follow a great noise and uproar and hurry in the castlecourt-yard below; men shouting and calling to one another, the ringingof armor, and the clatter of horses' hoofs upon the hard stone. With thecreaking and groaning of the windlass the iron-pointed portcullis wouldbe slowly raised, and with a clank and rattle and clash of iron chainsthe drawbridge would fall crashing. Then over it would thunder horse andman, clattering away down the winding, stony pathway, until the greatforest would swallow them, and they would be gone. 

Then for a while peace would fall upon the castle courtyard, the cockwould crow, the cook would scold a lazy maid, and Gretchen, leaning outof a window, would sing a snatch of a song, just as though it were apeaceful farm-house, instead of a den of robbers. 

Maybe it would be evening before the men would return once more. Perhapsone would have a bloody cloth bound about his head, perhaps one wouldcarry his arm in a sling; perhaps one--maybe more than one--would beleft behind, never to return again, and soon forgotten by all exceptingsome poor woman who would weep silently in the loneliness of her dailywork. 

Nearly always the adventurers would bring back with them pack-horsesladen with bales of goods. Sometimes, besides these, they would returnwith a poor soul, his hands tied behind his back and his feet beneaththe horse's body, his fur cloak and his flat cap wofully awry. A whilehe would disappear in some gloomy cell of the dungeon-keep, until anenvoy would come from the town with a fat purse, when his ransom wouldbe paid, the dungeon would disgorge him, and he would be allowed to goupon his way again. 

One man always rode beside Baron Conrad in his expeditions andadventures a short, deep-chested, broad-shouldered man, with sinewy armsso long that when he stood his hands hung nearly to his knees. 

His coarse, close-clipped hair came so low upon his brow that only astrip of forehead showed between it and his bushy, black eyebrows. Oneeye was blind; the other twinkled and gleamed like a spark under thepenthouse of his brows. Many folk said that the one-eyed Hans had drunkbeer with the Hill-man, who had given him the strength of ten, for hecould bend an iron spit like a hazel twig, and could lift a barrel ofwine from the floor to his head as easily as though it were a basket ofeggs. 

As for the one-eyed Hans he never said that he had not drunk beer withthe Hill-man, for he liked the credit that such reports gave him withthe other folk. And so, like a half savage mastiff, faithful to deathto his master, but to him alone, he went his sullen way and lived hissullen life within the castle walls, half respected, half feared by theother inmates, for it was dangerous trifling with the one-eyed Hans. 

II. How the Baron went Forth to Shear. 

Baron Conrad and Baroness Matilda sat together at their morning mealbelow their raised seats stretched the long, heavy wooden table, loadedwith coarse food--black bread, boiled cabbage, bacon, eggs, a greatchine from a wild boar, sausages, such as we eat nowadays, and flagonsand jars of beer and wine, Along the board sat ranged in the order ofthe household the followers and retainers. Four or five slatternly womenand girls served the others as they fed noisily at the table, movinghere and there behind the men with wooden or pewter dishes of food, nowand then laughing at the jests that passed or joining in the talk. Ahuge fire blazed and crackled and roared in the great open fireplace, before which were stretched two fierce, shaggy, wolfish-looking hounds. Outside, the rain beat upon the roof or ran trickling from the eaves, and every now and then a chill draught of wind would breathe through theopen windows of the great black dining-hall and set the fire roaring. 

Along the dull-gray wall of stone hung pieces of armor, and swords andlances, and great branching antlers of the stag. Overhead arched therude, heavy, oaken beams, blackened with age and smoke, and underfootwas a chill pavement of stone. 

Upon Baron Conrad's shoulder leaned the pale, slender, yellow-hairedBaroness, the only one in all the world with whom the fierce lord ofDrachenhausen softened to gentleness, the only one upon whom his savagebrows looked kindly, and to whom his harsh voice softened with love. 

The Baroness was talking to her husband in a low voice, as he lookeddown into her pale face, with its gentle blue eyes. 

"And wilt thou not, then, " said she, "do that one thing for me?"

"Nay, " he growled, in his deep voice, "I cannot promise thee never moreto attack the towns-people in the valley over yonder. How else could Ilive an' I did not take from the fat town hogs to fill our own larder?"

"Nay, " said the Baroness, "thou couldst live as some others do, for alldo not rob the burgher folk as thou dost. Alas! mishap will come uponthee some day, and if thou shouldst be slain, what then would come ofme?"

"Prut, " said the Baron, "thy foolish fears" But he laid his rough, hairyhand softly upon the Baroness' head and stroked her yellow hair. 

"For my sake, Conrad, " whispered the Baroness. 

A pause followed. The Baron sat looking thoughtfully down into theBaroness' face. A moment more, and he might have promised what shebesought; a moment more, and he might have been saved all the bittertrouble that was to follow. But it was not to be. 

Suddenly a harsh sound broke the quietness of all into a confusion ofnoises. Dong! Dong!--it was the great alarm-bell from Melchior's Tower. 

The Baron started at the sound. He sat for a moment or two with his handclinched upon the arm of his seat as though about to rise, then he sunkback into his chair again. 

All the others had risen tumultuously from the table, and now stoodlooking at him, awaiting his orders. 

"For my sake, Conrad, " said the Baroness again. 

Dong! Dong! rang the alarm-bell. The Baron sat with his eyes bent uponthe floor, scowling blackly. 

The Baroness took his hand in both of hers. "For my sake, " she pleaded, and the tears filled her blue eyes as she looked up at him, "do not gothis time. "

From the courtyard without came the sound of horses' hoofs clashingagainst the stone pavement, and those in the hall stood watching andwondering at this strange delay of the Lord Baron. Just then the dooropened and one came pushing past the rest; it was the one-eyed Hans. He came straight to where the Baron sat, and, leaning over, whisperedsomething into his master's ear. 

"For my sake, " implored the Baroness again; but the scale was turned. The Baron pushed back his chair heavily and rose to his feet. "Forward!"he roared, in a voice of thunder, and a great shout went up in answer ashe strode clanking down the hall and out of the open door. 

The Baroness covered her face with her hands and wept. 

"Never mind, little bird, " said old Ursela, the nurse, soothingly; "hewill come back to thee again as he has come back to thee before. "

But the poor young Baroness continued weeping with her face buried inher hands, because he had not done that thing she had asked. 

A white young face framed in yellow hair looked out into the courtyardfrom a window above; but if Baron Conrad of Drachenhausen saw it frombeneath the bars of his shining helmet, he made no sign. 

"Forward, " he cried again. 

Down thundered the drawbridge, and away they rode with clashing hoofsand ringing armor through the gray shroud of drilling rain. 

The day had passed and the evening had come, and the Baroness and herwomen sat beside a roaring fire. All were chattering and talking andlaughing but two--the fair young Baroness and old Ursela; the one satlistening, listening, listening, the other sat with her chin resting inthe palm of her hand, silently watching her young mistress. The nightwas falling gray and chill, when suddenly the clear notes of a buglerang from without the castle walls. The young Baroness started, and therosy light flashed up into her pale cheeks. 

"Yes, good, " said old Ursela; "the red fox has come back to his denagain, and I warrant he brings a fat town goose in his mouth; now we'llhave fine clothes to wear, and thou another gold chain to hang about thypretty neck. "

The young Baroness laughed merrily at the old woman's speech. "Thistime, " said she, "I will choose a string of pearls like that one my auntused to wear, and which I had about my neck when Conrad first saw me. "

Minute after minute passed; the Baroness sat nervously playing with abracelet of golden beads about her wrist. "How long he stays, " said she. 

"Yes, " said Ursela; "but it is not cousin wish that holds him by thecoat. "

As she spoke, a door banged in the passageway without, and the ring ofiron footsteps sounded upon the stone floor. Clank! Clank! Clank!

The Baroness rose to her feet, her face all alight. The door opened;then the flush of joy faded away and the face grew white, white, white. One hand clutched the back of the bench whereon she had been sitting, the other hand pressed tightly against her side. 

It was Hans the one-eyed who stood in the doorway, and black trouble saton his brow; all were looking at him waiting. 

"Conrad, " whispered the Baroness, at last. "Where is Conrad? Where isyour master?" and even her lips were white as she spoke. 

The one-eyed Hans said nothing. 

Just then came the noise of men s voices in the corridor and the shuffleand scuffle of feet carrying a heavy load. Nearer and nearer they came, and one-eyed Hans stood aside. Six men came struggling through thedoorway, carrying a litter, and on the litter lay the great BaronConrad. The flaming torch thrust into the iron bracket against the wallflashed up with the draught of air from the open door, and the lightfell upon the white face and the closed eyes, and showed upon his bodyarmor a great red stain that was not the stain of rust. 

Suddenly Ursela cried out in a sharp, shrill voice, "Catch her, shefalls!"

It was the Baroness. 

Then the old crone turned fiercely upon the one-eyed Hans. "Thou fool!"she cried, "why didst thou bring him here? Thou hast killed thy lady!"

"I did not know, " said the one-eyed Hans, stupidly. 

III. How the Baron came Home Shorn. 

But Baron Conrad was not dead. For days he lay upon his hard bed, nowmuttering incoherent words beneath his red beard, now raving fiercelywith the fever of his wound. But one day he woke again to the thingsabout him. 

He turned his head first to the one side and then to the other; theresat Schwartz Carl and the one-eyed Hans. Two or three other retainersstood by a great window that looked out into the courtyard beneath, jesting and laughing together in low tones, and one lay upon the heavyoaken bench that stood along by the wall snoring in his sleep. 

"Where is your lady?" said the Baron, presently; "and why is she notwith me at this time?"

The man that lay upon the bench started up at the sound of his voice, and those at the window came hurrying to his bedside. But Schwartz Carland the one-eyed Hans looked at one another, and neither of them spoke. The Baron saw the look and in it read a certain meaning that broughthim to his elbow, though only to sink back upon his pillow again with agroan. 

"Why do you not answer me?" said he at last, in a hollow voice; thento the one-eyed Hans, "Hast no tongue, fool, that thou standest gapingthere like a fish? Answer me, where is thy mistress?"

"I--I do not know, " stammered poor Hans. 

For a while the Baron lay silently looking from one face to the other, then he spoke again. "How long have I been lying here?" said he. 

"A sennight, my lord, " said Master Rudolph, the steward, who had comeinto the room and who now stood among the others at the bedside. 

"A sennight, " repeated the Baron, in a low voice, and then to MasterRudolph, "And has the Baroness been often beside me in that time?"Master Rudolph hesitated. "Answer me, " said the Baron, harshly. 

"Not--not often, " said Master Rudolph, hesitatingly. 

The Baron lay silent for a long time. At last he passed his hands overhis face and held them there for a minute, then of a sudden, beforeanyone knew what he was about to do, he rose upon his elbow and then satupright upon the bed. The green wound broke out afresh and a dark redspot grew and spread upon the linen wrappings; his face was drawn andhaggard with the pain of his moving, and his eyes wild and bloodshot. Great drops of sweat gathered and stood upon his forehead as he satthere swaying slightly from side to side. 

"My shoes, " said he, hoarsely. 

Master Rudolph stepped forward. "But, my Lord Baron, " he began and thenstopped short, for the Baron shot him such a look that his tongue stoodstill in his head. 

Hans saw that look out of his one eye. Down he dropped upon his kneesand, fumbling under the bed, brought forth a pair of soft leathernshoes, which he slipped upon the Baron's feet and then laced the thongsabove the instep. 

"Your shoulder, " said the Baron. He rose slowly to his feet, grippingHans in the stress of his agony until the fellow winced again. For amoment he stood as though gathering strength, then doggedly startedforth upon that quest which he had set upon himself. 

At the door he stopped for a moment as though overcome by his weakness, and there Master Nicholas, his cousin, met him; for the steward had sentone of the retainers to tell the old man what the Baron was about to do. 

"Thou must go back again, Conrad, " said Master Nicholas; "thou art notfit to be abroad. "

The Baron answered him never a word, but he glared at him from out ofhis bloodshot eyes and ground his teeth together. Then he started forthagain upon his way. 

Down the long hall he went, slowly and laboriously, the others followingsilently behind him, then up the steep winding stairs, step by step, now and then stopping to lean against the wall. So he reached a longand gloomy passageway lit only by the light of a little window at thefurther end. 

He stopped at the door of one of the rooms that opened into thispassage-way, stood for a moment, then he pushed it open. 

No one was within but old Ursela, who sat crooning over a fire with abundle upon her knees. She did not see the Baron or know that he wasthere. 

"Where is your lady?" said he, in a hollow voice. 

Then the old nurse looked up with a start. "Jesu bless us, " cried she, and crossed herself. 

"Where is your lady?" said the Baron again, in the same hoarse voice;and then, not waiting for an answer, "Is she dead?"

The old woman looked at him for a minute blinking her watery eyes, andthen suddenly broke into a shrill, long-drawn wail. The Baron needed tohear no more. 

As though in answer to the old woman's cry, a thin piping complaint camefrom the bundle in her lap. 

At the sound the red blood flashed up into the Baron's face. "Whatis that you have there?" said he, pointing to the bundle upon the oldwoman's knees. 

She drew back the coverings and there lay a poor, weak, little baby, that once again raised its faint reedy pipe. 

"It is your son, " said Ursela, "that the dear Baroness left behind herwhen the holy angels took her to Paradise. She blessed him and calledhim Otto before she left us. "

IV. The White Cross on the Hill. 

Here the glassy waters of the River Rhine, holding upon its bosom amimic picture of the blue sky and white clouds floating above, runssmoothly around a jutting point of land, St. Michaelsburg, rising fromthe reedy banks of the stream, sweeps up with a smooth swell untilit cuts sharp and clear against the sky. Stubby vineyards covered itsearthy breast, and field and garden and orchard crowned its brow, wherelay the Monastery of St. Michaelsburg--"The White Cross on the Hill. "There within the white walls, where the warm yellow sunlight slept, allwas peaceful quietness, broken only now and then by the crowing ofthe cock or the clamorous cackle of a hen, the lowing of kine or thebleating of goats, a solitary voice in prayer, the faint accord ofdistant singing, or the resonant toll of the monastery bell from thehigh-peaked belfry that overlooked the hill and valley and the smooth, far-winding stream. No other sounds broke the stillness, for in thispeaceful haven was never heard the clash of armor, the ring of iron-shodhoofs, or the hoarse call to arms. 

All men were not wicked and cruel and fierce in that dark, far-away age;all were not robbers and terror-spreading tyrants, even in that timewhen men's hands were against their neighbors, and war and rapine dweltin place of peace and justice. 

Abbot Otto, of St. Michaelsburg, was a gentle, patient, pale-faced oldman; his white hands were soft and smooth, and no one would have thoughtthat they could have known the harsh touch of sword-hilt and lance. Andyet, in the days of the Emperor Frederick--the grandson of the greatRed-beard--no one stood higher in the prowess of arms than he. But allat once--for why, no man could tell--a change came over him, and in theflower of his youth and fame and growing power he gave up everythingin life and entered the quiet sanctuary of that white monastery on thehill-side, so far away from the tumult and the conflict of the world inwhich he had lived. 

Some said that it was because the lady he had loved had loved hisbrother, and that when they were married Otto of Wolbergen had left thechurch with a broken heart. 

But such stories are old songs that have been sung before. 

Clatter! clatter! Jingle! jingle! It was a full-armed knight that cameriding up the steep hill road that wound from left to right and right toleft amid the vineyards on the slopes of St. Michaelsburg. Polished helmand corselet blazed in the noon sunlight, for no knight in those daysdared to ride the roads except in full armor. In front of him thesolitary knight carried a bundle wrapped in the folds of his coarse graycloak. 

It was a sorely sick man that rode up the heights of St. Michaelsburg. His head hung upon his breast through the faintness of weariness andpain; for it was the Baron Conrad. 

He had left his bed of sickness that morning, had saddled his horse inthe gray dawn with his own hands, and had ridden away into the mistytwilight of the forest without the knowledge of anyone excepting theporter, who, winking and blinking in the bewilderment of his brokenslumber, had opened the gates to the sick man, hardly knowing what hewas doing, until he beheld his master far away, clattering down thesteep bridle-path. 

Eight leagues had he ridden that day with neither a stop nor a stay; butnow at last the end of his journey had come, and he drew rein under theshade of the great wooden gateway of St. Michaelsburg. 

He reached up to the knotted rope and gave it a pull, and from withinsounded the answering ring of the porter's bell. By and by a littlewicket opened in the great wooden portals, and the gentle, wrinkled faceof old Brother Benedict, the porter, peeped out at the strange iron-cladvisitor and the great black war-horse, streaked and wet with the sweatof the journey, flecked and dappled with flakes of foam. A few wordspassed between them, and then the little window was closed again; andwithin, the shuffling pat of the sandalled feet sounded fainter andfainter, as Brother Benedict bore the message from Baron Conrad to AbbotOtto, and the mail-clad figure was left alone, sitting there as silentas a statue. 

By and by the footsteps sounded again; there came a noise of clatteringchains and the rattle of the key in the lock, and the rasping of thebolts dragged back. Then the gate swung slowly open, and Baron Conradrode into the shelter of the White Cross, and as the hoofs of hiswar-horse clashed upon the stones of the courtyard within, the woodengate swung slowly to behind him. 

Abbot Otto stood by the table when Baron Conrad entered the high-vaultedroom from the farther end. The light from the oriel window behind theold man shed broken rays of light upon him, and seemed to frame his thingray hairs with a golden glory. His white, delicate hand rested upon thetable beside him, and upon some sheets of parchment covered with rows ofancient Greek writing which he had been engaged in deciphering. 

Clank! clank! clank! Baron Conrad strode across the stone floor, andthen stopped short in front of the good old man. 

"What dost thou seek here, my son?" said the Abbot. 

"I seek sanctuary for my son and thy brother's grandson, " said the BaronConrad, and he flung back the folds of his cloak and showed the face ofthe sleeping babe. 

For a while the Abbot said nothing, but stood gazing dreamily atthe baby. After a while he looked up. "And the child's mother, " saidhe--"what hath she to say at this?"

"She hath naught to say, " said Baron Conrad, hoarsely, and then stoppedshort in his speech. "She is dead, " said he, at last, in a husky voice, "and is with God's angels in paradise. "

The Abbot looked intently in the Baron's face. "So!" said he, under hisbreath, and then for the first time noticed how white and drawn was theBaron's face. "Art sick thyself?" he asked. 

"Ay, " said the Baron, "I have come from death's door. But that is nomatter. Wilt thou take this little babe into sanctuary? My house is avile, rough place, and not fit for such as he, and his mother with theblessed saints in heaven. " And once more Conrad of Drachenhausen's facebegan twitching with the pain of his thoughts. 

"Yes, " said the old man, gently, "he shall live here, " and he stretchedout his hands and took the babe. "Would, " said he, "that all the littlechildren in these dark times might be thus brought to the house of God, and there learn mercy and peace, instead of rapine and war. "

For a while he stood looking down in silence at the baby in his arms, but with his mind far away upon other things. At last he roused himselfwith a start. "And thou, " said he to the Baron Conrad--"hath not thyheart been chastened and softened by this? Surely thou wilt not go backto thy old life of rapine and extortion?"

"Nay, " said Baron Conrad, gruffly, "I will rob the city swine no longer, for that was the last thing that my dear one asked of me. "

The old Abbot's face lit up with a smile. "I am right glad that thyheart was softened, and that thou art willing at last to cease from warand violence. "

"Nay, " cried the Baron, roughly, "I said nothing of ceasing from war. Byheaven, no! I will have revenge!" And he clashed his iron foot upon thefloor and clinched his fists and ground his teeth together. "Listen, "said he, "and I will tell thee how my troubles happened. A fortnight agoI rode out upon an expedition against a caravan of fat burghers in thevalley of Gruenhoffen. They outnumbered us many to one, but city swinesuch as they are not of the stuff to stand against our kind for a longtime. Nevertheless, while the men-at-arms who guarded the caravan werestaying us with pike and cross-bow from behind a tree which they hadfelled in front of a high bridge the others had driven the pack-horsesoff, so that by the time we had forced the bridge they were a leagueor more away. We pushed after them as hard as we were able, but when wecame up with them we found that they had been joined by Baron Frederickof Trutz-Drachen, to whom for three years and more the burghers ofGruenstadt have been paying a tribute for his protection against others. Then again they made a stand, and this time the Baron Frederick himselfwas with them. But though the dogs fought well, we were forcing themback, and might have got the better of them, had not my horse stumbledupon a sloping stone, and so fell and rolled over upon me. While I laythere with my horse upon me, Baron Frederick ran me down with his lance, and gave me that foul wound that came so near to slaying me--and didslay my dear wife. Nevertheless, my men were able to bring me out fromthat press and away, and we had bitten the Trutz-Drachen dogs so deepthat they were too sore to follow us, and so let us go our way in peace. But when those fools of mine brought me to my castle they bore me lyingupon a litter to my wife's chamber. There she beheld me, and, thinkingme dead, swooned a death-swoon, so that she only lived long enough tobless her new-born babe and name it Otto, for you, her father's brother. But, by heavens! I will have revenge, root and branch, upon that viletribe, the Roderburgs of Trutz-Drachen. Their great-grandsire built thatcastle in scorn of Baron Casper in the old days; their grandsire slew myfather's grandsire; Baron Nicholas slew two of our kindred; and now thisBaron Frederick gives me that foul wound and kills my dear wife throughmy body. " Here the Baron stopped short; then of a sudden, shaking hisfist above his head, he cried out in his hoarse voice: "I swear by allthe saints in heaven, either the red cock shall crow over the roof ofTrutz-Drachen or else it shall crow over my house! The black dog shallsit on Baron Frederick's shoulders or else he shall sit on mine!" Againhe stopped, and fixing his blazing eyes upon the old man, "Hearest thouthat, priest?" said he, and broke into a great boisterous laugh. 

Abbot Otto sighed heavily, but he tried no further to persuade the otherinto different thoughts. 

"Thou art wounded, " said he, at last, in a gentle voice; "at least stayhere with us until thou art healed. "

"Nay, " said the Baron, roughly, "I will tarry no longer than to hearthee promise to care for my child. "

"I promise, " said the Abbot; "but lay aside thy armor, and rest. "

"Nay, " said the Baron, "I go back again to-day. "

At this the Abbot cried out in amazement: "Sure thou, wounded man, wouldnot take that long journey without a due stay for resting! Think! Nightwill be upon thee before thou canst reach home again, and the forestsare beset with wolves. "

The Baron laughed. "Those are not the wolves I fear, " said he. "Urge meno further, I must return to-night; yet if thou hast a mind to do me akindness thou canst give me some food to eat and a flask of your goldenMichaelsburg; beyond these, I ask no further favor of any man, be hepriest or layman. "

"What comfort I can give thee thou shalt have, " said the Abbot, in hispatient voice, and so left the room to give the needful orders, bearingthe babe with him. 

V. How Otto Dwelt at St. Michaelsburg. 

So the poor, little, motherless waif lived among the old monks at theWhite Cross on the hill, thriving and growing apace until he had reachedeleven or twelve years of age; a slender, fair-haired little fellow, with a strange, quiet serious manner. 

"Poor little child!" Old Brother Benedict would sometimes say to theothers, "poor little child! The troubles in which he was born must havebroken his wits like a glass cup. What think ye he said to me to-day?'Dear Brother Benedict, ' said he, 'dost thou shave the hair off of thetop of thy head so that the dear God may see thy thoughts the better?'Think of that now!" and the good old man shook with silent laughter. 

When such talk came to the good Father Abbot's ears, he smiled quietlyto himself. "It may be, " said he, "that the wisdom of little childrenflies higher than our heavy wits can follow. "

At least Otto was not slow with his studies, and Brother Emmanuel, who taught him his lessons, said more than once that, if his wits werecracked in other ways, they were sound enough in Latin. 

Otto, in a quaint, simple way which belonged to him, was gentleand obedient to all. But there was one among the Brethren of St. Michaelsburg whom he loved far above all the rest--Brother John, a poorhalf-witted fellow, of some twenty-five or thirty years of age. Whena very little child, he had fallen from his nurse's arms and hurt hishead, and as he grew up into boyhood, and showed that his wits had beenaddled by his fall, his family knew not what else to do with him, andso sent him off to the Monastery of St. Michaelsburg, where he livedhis simple, witless life upon a sort of sufferance, as though he were atame, harmless animal. 

While Otto was still a little baby, he had been given into BrotherJohn's care. Thereafter, and until Otto had grown old enough to care forhimself, poor Brother John never left his little charge, night or day. Oftentimes the good Father Abbot, coming into the garden, where he lovedto walk alone in his meditations, would find the poor, simple Brothersitting under the shade of the pear-tree, close to the bee-hives, rocking the little baby in his arms, singing strange, crazy songs toit, and gazing far away into the blue, empty sky with his curious, paleeyes. 

Although, as Otto grew up into boyhood, his lessons and his tasksseparated him from Brother John, the bond between them seemed to growstronger rather than weaker. During the hours that Otto had for his ownthey were scarcely ever apart. Down in the vineyard, where the monkswere gathering the grapes for the vintage, in the garden, or in thefields, the two were always seen together, either wandering hand inhand, or seated in some shady nook or corner. 

But most of all they loved to lie up in the airy wooden belfry; thegreat gaping bell hanging darkly above them, the mouldering cross-beamsglimmering far up under the dim shadows of the roof, where dwelt a greatbrown owl that, unfrightened at their familiar presence, stared down atthem with his round, solemn eyes. Below them stretched the white wallsof the garden, beyond them the vineyard, and beyond that again the farshining river, that seemed to Otto's mind to lead into wonder-land. There the two would lie upon the belfry floor by the hour, talkingtogether of the strangest things. 

"I saw the dear Angel Gabriel again yester morn, " said Brother John. 

"So!" says Otto, seriously; "and where was that?"

"It was out in the garden, in the old apple-tree, " said Brother John. "Iwas walking there, and my wits were running around in the grass like amouse. What heard I but a wonderful sound of singing, and it was likethe hum of a great bee, only sweeter than honey. So I looked up into thetree, and there I saw two sparks. I thought at first that they weretwo stars that had fallen out of heaven; but what think you they were, little child?"

"I do not know, " said Otto, breathlessly. 

"They were angel's eyes, " said Brother John; and he smiled in thestrangest way, as he gazed up into the blue sky. "So I looked at the twosparks and felt happy, as one does in spring time when the cold weatheris gone, and the warm sun shines, and the cuckoo sings again. Then, by-and-by, I saw the face to which the eyes belonged. First, it shonewhite and thin like the moon in the daylight; but it grew brighter andbrighter, until it hurt one's eyes to look at it, as though it had beenthe blessed sun itself. Angel Gabriel's hand was as white as silver, andin it he held a green bough with blossoms, like those that grow on thethorn bush. As for his robe, it was all of one piece, and finer than theFather Abbot's linen, and shone beside like the sunlight on pure snow. So I knew from all these things that it was the blessed Angel Gabriel. "

"What do they say about this tree, Brother John?" said he to me. 

"They say it is dying, my Lord Angel, " said I, "and that the gardenerwill bring a sharp axe and cut it down. "

"'And what dost thou say about it, Brother John?' said he. "

"'I also say yes, and that it is dying, ' said I. "

"At that he smiled until his face shone so bright that I had to shut myeyes. "

"'Now I begin to believe, Brother John, that thou art as foolish as mensay, ' said he. 'Look, till I show thee. ' And thereat I opened mine eyesagain. "

"Then Angel Gabriel touched the dead branches with the flowery twig thathe held in his hand, and there was the dead wood all covered with greenleaves, and fair blossoms and beautiful apples as yellow as gold. Eachsmelling more sweetly than a garden of flowers, and better to the tastethan white bread and honey. 

"'They are souls of the apples, ' said the good Angel, ' and they cannever wither and die. '

"'Then I'll tell the gardener that he shall not cut the tree down, ' saidI. "

"'No, no, ' said the dear Gabriel, 'that will never do, for if the treeis not cut down here on the earth, it can never be planted in paradise. '"

Here Brother John stopped short in his story, and began singing one ofhis crazy songs, as he gazed with his pale eyes far away into nothing atall. 

"But tell me, Brother John, " said little Otto, in a hushed voice, "whatelse did the good Angel say to thee?"

Brother John stopped short in his song and began looking from right toleft, and up and down, as though to gather his wits. 

"So!" said he, "there was something else that he told me. Tschk! If Icould but think now. Yes, good! This is it--'Nothing that has lived, 'said he, 'shall ever die, and nothing that has died shall ever live. '"

Otto drew a deep breath. "I would that I might see the beautiful AngelGabriel sometime, " said he; but Brother John was singing again and didnot seem to hear what he said. 

Next to Brother John, the nearest one to the little child was the goodAbbot Otto, for though he had never seen wonderful things with the eyesof his soul, such as Brother John's had beheld, and so could not tell ofthem, he was yet able to give little Otto another pleasure that no oneelse could give. 

He was a great lover of books, the old Abbot, and had under lock and keywonderful and beautiful volumes, bound in hog-skin and metal, and withcovers inlaid with carved ivory, or studded with precious stones. Butwithin these covers, beautiful as they were, lay the real wonder of thebooks, like the soul in the body; for there, beside the black lettersand initials, gay with red and blue and gold, were beautiful picturespainted upon the creamy parchment. Saints and Angels, the Blessed Virginwith the golden oriole about her head, good St. Joseph, the three Kings;the simple Shepherds kneeling in the fields, while Angels with gloriesabout their brow called to the poor Peasants from the blue sky above. But, most beautiful of all was the picture of the Christ Child lying inthe manger, with the mild-eyed Kine gazing at him. 

Sometimes the old Abbot would unlock the iron-bound chest where thesetreasures lay hidden, and carefully and lovingly brushing the few grainsof dust from them, would lay them upon the table beside the oriel windowin front of his little namesake, allowing the little boy freedom to turnthe leaves as he chose. 

Always it was one picture that little Otto sought; the Christ Child inthe manger, with the Virgin, St. Joseph, the Shepherds, and the Kine. And as he would hang breathlessly gazing and gazing upon it, the oldAbbot would sit watching him with a faint, half-sad smile flickeringaround his thin lips and his pale, narrow face. 

It was a pleasant, peaceful life, but by-and-by the end came. Otto wasnow nearly twelve years old. 

One bright, clear day, near the hour of noon, little Otto heard theporter's bell sounding below in the court-yard--dong! dong! BrotherEmmanuel had been appointed as the boy's instructor, and just then Ottowas conning his lessons in the good monk's cell. Nevertheless, at thesound of the bell he pricked up his ears and listened, for a visitor wasa strange matter in that out-of-the-way place, and he wondered who itcould be. So, while his wits wandered his lessons lagged. 

"Postera Phoeba lustrabat lampade terras, " continued Brother Emmanuel, inexorably running his horny finger-nail beneath the line, "humentemqueAurora polo dimoverat umbram--" the lesson dragged along. 

Just then a sandaled footstep sounded without, in the stone corridor, and a light tap fell upon Brother Emmanuel's door. It was BrotherIgnatius, and the Abbot wished little Otto to come to the refectory. 

As they crossed the court-yard Otto stared to see a group of mail-cladmen-at-arms, some sitting upon their horses, some standing by thesaddle-bow. "Yonder is the young baron, " he heard one of them say in agruff voice, and thereupon all turned and stared at him. 

A stranger was in the refectory, standing beside the good old Abbot, while food and wine were being brought and set upon the table for hisrefreshment; a great, tall, broad-shouldered man, beside whom the Abbotlooked thinner and slighter than ever. 

The stranger was clad all in polished and gleaming armor, of plate andchain, over which was drawn a loose robe of gray woollen stuff, reachingto the knees and bound about the waist by a broad leathern sword-belt. Upon his arm he carried a great helmet which he had just removed fromhis head. His face was weather-beaten and rugged, and on lip and chinwas a wiry, bristling beard; once red, now frosted with white. 

Brother Ignatius had bidden Otto to enter, and had then closed the doorbehind him; and now, as the lad walked slowly up the long room, he gazedwith round, wondering blue eyes at the stranger. 

"Dost know who I am, Otto? said the mail-clad knight, in a deep, growling voice. 

"Methinks you are my father, sir, " said Otto. 

"Aye, thou art right, " said Baron Conrad, "and I am glad to see thatthese milk-churning monks have not allowed thee to forget me, and whothou art thyself. "

"An' it please you, " said Otto, "no one churneth milk here butBrother Fritz; we be makers of wine and not makers of butter, at St. Michaelsburg. "

Baron Conrad broke into a great, loud laugh, but Abbot Otto's sad andthoughtful face lit up with no shadow of an answering smile. 

"Conrad, " said he, turning to the other, "again let me urge thee; donot take the child hence, his life can never be your life, for he is notfitted for it. I had thought, " said he, after a moment's pause, "I hadthought that thou hadst meant to consecrate him--this motherless one--tothe care of the Universal Mother Church. "

"So!" said the Baron, "thou hadst thought that, hadst thou? Thou hadstthought that I had intended to deliver over this boy, the last of theVuelphs, to the arms of the Church? What then was to become of our nameand the glory of our race if it was to end with him in a monastery? No, Drachenhausen is the home of the Vuelphs, and there the last of the raceshall live as his sires have lived before him, holding to his rights bythe power and the might of his right hand. "

The Abbot turned and looked at the boy, who was gaping in simplewide-eyed wonderment from one to the other as they spoke. 

"And dost thou think, Conrad, " said the old man, in his gentle, patientvoice, "that that poor child can maintain his rights by the strength ofhis right hand?"

The Baron's look followed the Abbot's, and he said nothing. 

In the few seconds of silence that followed, little Otto, in his simplemind, was wondering what all this talk portended. Why had his fathercome hither to St. Michaelsburg, lighting up the dim silence of themonastery with the flash and ring of his polished armor? Why had hetalked about churning butter but now, when all the world knew that themonks of St. Michaelsburg made wine. 

It was Baron Conrad's deep voice that broke the little pause of silence. 

"If you have made a milkmaid of the boy, " he burst out at last, "I thankthe dear heaven that there is yet time to undo your work and to make aman of him. "

The Abbot sighed. "The child is yours, Conrad, " said he, "the will ofthe blessed saints be done. Mayhap if he goes to dwell at Drachenhausenhe may make you the better instead of you making him the worse. "

Then light came to the darkness of little Otto's wonderment; he saw whatall this talk meant and why his father had come hither. He was to leavethe happy, sunny silence of the dear White Cross, and to go out intothat great world that he had so often looked down upon from the highwindy belfry on the steep hillside. 

VI. How Otto Lived in the Dragon's House. 

The gates of the Monastery stood wide open, the world lay beyond, andall was ready for departure. Baron Conrad and his men-at-arms sat footin stirrup, the milk-white horse that had been brought for Otto stoodwaiting for him beside his father's great charger. 

"Farewell, Otto, " said the good old Abbot, as he stooped and kissed theboy's cheek. 

"Farewell, " answered Otto, in his simple, quiet way, and it broughta pang to the old man's heart that the child should seem to grieve solittle at the leave-taking. 

"Farewell, Otto, " said the brethren that stood about, "farewell, farewell. "

Then poor brother John came forward and took the boy's hand, and lookedup into his face as he sat upon his horse. "We will meet again, " saidhe, with his strange, vacant smile, "but maybe it will be in Paradise, and there perhaps they will let us lie in the father's belfry, and lookdown upon the angels in the court-yard below. "

"Aye, " answered Otto, with an answering smile. 

"Forward, " cried the Baron, in a deep voice, and with a clash of hoofsand jingle of armor they were gone, and the great wooden gates were shutto behind them. 

Down the steep winding pathway they rode, and out into the great wideworld beyond, upon which Otto and brother John had gazed so often fromthe wooden belfry of the White Cross on the hill. 

"Hast been taught to ride a horse by the priests up yonder onMichaelsburg?" asked the Baron, when they had reached the level road. 

"Nay, " said Otto; "we had no horse to ride, but only to bring in theharvest or the grapes from the further vineyards to the vintage. "

"Prut, " said the Baron, "methought the abbot would have had enough ofthe blood of old days in his veins to have taught thee what is fittingfor a knight to know; art not afeared?"

"Nay, " said Otto, with a smile, "I am not afeared. "

"There at least thou showest thyself a Vuelph, " said the grim Baron. Butperhaps Otto's thought of fear and Baron Conrad's thought of fear weretwo very different matters. 

The afternoon had passed by the time they had reached the end of theirjourney. Up the steep, stony path they rode to the drawbridge andthe great gaping gateway of Drachenhausen, where wall and tower andbattlement looked darker and more forbidding than ever in the graytwilight of the coming night. Little Otto looked up with great, wondering, awe-struck eyes at this grim new home of his. 

The next moment they clattered over the drawbridge that spanned thenarrow black gulph between the roadway and the wall, and the next werepast the echoing arch of the great gateway and in the gray gloaming ofthe paved court-yard within. 

Otto looked around upon the many faces gathered there to catch thefirst sight of the little baron; hard, rugged faces, seamed andweather-beaten; very different from those of the gentle brethren amongwhom he had lived, and it seemed strange to him that there was nonethere whom he should know. 

As he climbed the steep, stony steps to the door of the Baron's house, old Ursela came running down to meet him. She flung her withered armsaround him and hugged him close to her. "My little child, " she cried, and then fell to sobbing as though her heart would break. 

"Here is someone knoweth me, " thought the little boy. 

His new home was all very strange and wonderful to Otto; the armors, thetrophies, the flags, the long galleries with their ranges of rooms, the great hall below with its vaulted roof and its great fireplace ofgrotesquely carved stone, and all the strange people with their livesand thoughts so different from what he had been used to know. 

And it was a wonderful thing to explore all the strange places in thedark old castle; places where it seemed to Otto no one could have everbeen before. 

Once he wandered down a long, dark passageway below the hall, pushedopen a narrow, iron-bound oaken door, and found himself all at once ina strange new land; the gray light, coming in through a range of tall, narrow windows, fell upon a row of silent, motionless figures carven instone, knights and ladies in strange armor and dress; each lying uponhis or her stony couch with clasped hands, and gazing with fixed, motionless, stony eyeballs up into the gloomy, vaulted arch above them. There lay, in a cold, silent row, all of the Vuelphs who had died sincethe ancient castle had been built. 

It was the chapel into which Otto had made his way, now long sincefallen out of use excepting as a burial place of the race. 

At another time he clambered up into the loft under the high peakedroof, where lay numberless forgotten things covered with the dim dustof years. There a flock of pigeons had made their roost, and flappednoisily out into the sunlight when he pushed open the door from below. Here he hunted among the mouldering things of the past until, oh, joyof joys! in an ancient oaken chest he found a great lot of worm-eatenbooks, that had belonged to some old chaplain of the castle in days goneby. They were not precious and beautiful volumes, such as the FatherAbbot had showed him, but all the same they had their quaint paintedpictures of the blessed saints and angels. 

Again, at another time, going into the court-yard, Otto had foundthe door of Melchior's tower standing invitingly open, for old Hilda, Schwartz Carl's wife, had come down below upon some business or other. 

Then upon the shaky wooden steps Otto ran without waiting for a secondthought, for he had often gazed at those curious buildings hanging sofar up in the air, and had wondered what they were like. Round and roundand up and up Otto climbed, until his head spun. At last he reacheda landing-stage, and gazing over the edge and down, beheld the stonepavement far, far below, lit by a faint glimmer of light that enteredthrough the arched doorway. Otto clutched tight hold of the wooden rail, he had no thought that he had climbed so far. 

Upon the other side of the landing was a window that pierced the thickstone walls of the tower; out of the window he looked, and then drewsuddenly back again with a gasp, for it was through the outer wall hepeered, and down, down below in the dizzy depths he saw the hardgray rocks, where the black swine, looking no larger than ants in thedistance, fed upon the refuse thrown out over the walls of the castle. There lay the moving tree-tops like a billowy green sea, and the coarsethatched roofs of the peasant cottages, round which crawled the littlechildren like tiny human specks. 

Then Otto turned and crept down the stairs, frightened at the height towhich he had climbed. 

At the doorway he met Mother Hilda. "Bless us, " she cried, starting backand crossing herself, and then, seeing who it was, ducked him a courtesywith as pleasant a smile as her forbidding face, with its littledeep-set eyes, was able to put upon itself. 

Old Ursela seemed nearer to the boy than anyone else about the castle, excepting it was his father, and it was a newfound delight to Otto tosit beside her and listen to her quaint stories, so different from themonkish tales that he had heard and read at the monastery. 

But one day it was a tale of a different sort that she told him, and onethat opened his eyes to what he had never dreamed of before. 

The mellow sunlight fell through the window upon old Ursela, as she satin the warmth with her distaff in her hands while Otto lay close to herfeet upon a bear skin, silently thinking over the strange story of abrave knight and a fiery dragon that she had just told him. SuddenlyUrsela broke the silence. 

"Little one, " said she, "thou art wondrously like thy own dear mother;didst ever hear how she died?"

"Nay, " said Otto, "but tell me, Ursela, how it was. "

"Tis strange, " said the old woman, "that no one should have told theein all this time. " And then, in her own fashion she related to him thestory of how his father had set forth upon that expedition in spite ofall that Otto's mother had said, beseeching him to abide at home; how hehad been foully wounded, and how the poor lady had died from her frightand grief. 

Otto listened with eyes that grew wider and wider, though not all withwonder; he no longer lay upon the bear skin, but sat up with his handsclasped. For a moment or two after the old woman had ended her story, hesat staring silently at her. Then he cried out, in a sharp voice, "Andis this truth that you tell me, Ursela? and did my father seek to robthe towns people of their goods?"

Old Ursela laughed. "Aye, " said she, "that he did and many times. Ah!me, those day's are all gone now. " And she fetched a deep sigh. "Then welived in plenty and had both silks and linens and velvets besides in thestore closets and were able to buy good wines and live in plenty uponthe best. Now we dress in frieze and live upon what we can get andsometimes that is little enough, with nothing better than sour beer todrink. But there is one comfort in it all, and that is that our goodBaron paid back the score he owed the Trutz-Drachen people not only forthat, but for all that they had done from the very first. "

Thereupon she went on to tell Otto how Baron Conrad had fulfilled thepledge of revenge that he had made Abbot Otto, how he had watched dayafter day until one time he had caught the Trutz-Drachen folk, with Baron Frederick at their head, in a narrow defile back of theKaiserburg; of the fierce fight that was there fought; of how theRoderburgs at last fled, leaving Baron Frederick behind them wounded; ofhow he had kneeled before the Baron Conrad, asking for mercy, and ofhow Baron Conrad had answered, "Aye, thou shalt have such mercy as thoudeservest, " and had therewith raised his great two-handed sword and laidhis kneeling enemy dead at one blow. 

Poor little Otto had never dreamed that such cruelty and wickednesscould be. He listened to the old woman's story with gaping horror, andwhen the last came and she told him, with a smack of her lips, how hisfather had killed his enemy with his own hand, he gave a gasping cry andsprang to his feet. Just then the door at the other end of the chamberwas noisily opened, and Baron Conrad himself strode into the room. Otto turned his head, and seeing who it was, gave another cry, loud andquavering, and ran to his father and caught him by the hand. 

"Oh, father!" he cried, "oh, father! Is it true that thou hast killed aman with thy own hand?"

"Aye, " said the Baron, grimly, "it is true enough, and I think me I havekilled many more than one. But what of that, Otto? Thou must get out ofthose foolish notions that the old monks have taught thee. Here in theworld it is different from what it is at St. Michaelsburg; here a manmust either slay or be slain. "

But poor little Otto, with his face hidden in his father's robe, criedas though his heart would break. "Oh, father!" he said, again and again, "it cannot be--it cannot be that thou who art so kind to me should havekilled a man with thine own hands. " Then: "I wish that I were backin the monastery again; I am afraid out here in the great wide world;perhaps somebody may kill me, for I am only a weak little boy and couldnot save my own life if they chose to take it from me. "

Baron Conrad looked down upon Otto all this while, drawing his bushyeyebrows together. Once he reached out his hand as though to stroke theboy's hair, but drew it back again. 

Turning angrily upon the old woman, "Ursela, " said he, "thou must tellthe child no more such stories as these; he knowest not at all of suchthings as yet. Keep thy tongue busy with the old woman's tales that heloves to hear thee tell, and leave it with me to teach him what becometha true knight and a Vuelph. "

That night the father and son sat together beside the roaring fire inthe great ball. "Tell me, Otto, " said the Baron, "dost thou hate me forhaving done what Ursela told thee today that I did?"

Otto looked for a while into his father's face. "I know not, " said he atlast, in his quaint, quiet voice, "but methinks that I do not hate theefor it. "

The Baron drew his bushy brows together until his eyes twinkled out ofthe depths beneath them, then of a sudden he broke into a great loudlaugh, smiting his horny palm with a smack upon his thigh. 

VII. The Red Cock Crows on Drachenhausen. 

There was a new emperor in Germany who had come from a far away Swisscastle; Count Rudolph of Hapsburg, a good, honest man with a good, honest, homely face, but bringing with him a stern sense of justice andof right, and a determination to put down the lawlessness of the savageGerman barons among whom he had come as Emperor. 

One day two strangers came galloping up the winding path to the gatesof the Dragon's house. A horn sounded thin and clear, a parley was heldacross the chasm in the road between the two strangers and the porterwho appeared at the little wicket. Then a messenger was sent running tothe Baron, who presently came striding across the open court-yard to thegateway to parley with the strangers. 

The two bore with them a folded parchment with a great red sealhanging from it like a clot of blood; it was a message from the Emperordemanding that the Baron should come to the Imperial Court to answercertain charges that had been brought against him, and to give his bondto maintain the peace of the empire. 

One by one those barons who had been carrying on their private wars, orhad been despoiling the burgher folk in their traffic from town totown, and against whom complaint had been lodged, were summoned to theImperial Court, where they were compelled to promise peace and to swearallegiance to the new order of things. All those who came willingly wereallowed to return home again after giving security for maintaining thepeace; all those who came not willingly were either brought in chainsor rooted out of their strongholds with fire and sword, and their roofsburned over their heads. 

Now it was Baron Conrad's turn to be summoned to the Imperial Court, for complaint had been lodged against him by his old enemy ofTrutz-Drachen--Baron Henry--the nephew of the old Baron Frederickwho had been slain while kneeling in the dust of the road back of theKaiserburg. 

No one at Drachenhausen could read but Master Rudolph, the steward, who was sand blind, and little Otto. So the boy read the summons to hisfather, while the grim Baron sat silent with his chin resting upon hisclenched fist and his eyebrows drawn together into a thoughtful frown ashe gazed into the pale face of his son, who sat by the rude oaken tablewith the great parchment spread out before him. 

Should he answer the summons, or scorn it as he would have done underthe old emperors? Baron Conrad knew not which to do; pride said onething and policy another. The Emperor was a man with an iron hand, andBaron Conrad knew what had happened to those who had refused to obey theimperial commands. So at last he decided that he would go to the court, taking with him a suitable escort to support his dignity. 

It was with nearly a hundred armed men clattering behind him that BaronConrad rode away to court to answer the imperial summons. The castle wasstripped of its fighting men, and only eight remained behind to guardthe great stone fortress and the little simple-witted boy. 

It was a sad mistake. 

Three days had passed since the Baron had left the castle, and now thethird night had come. The moon was hanging midway in the sky, white andfull, for it was barely past midnight. 

The high precipitous banks of the rocky road threw a dense black shadowinto the gully below, and in that crooked inky line that scarred thewhite face of the moonlit rocks a band of some thirty men were creepingslowly and stealthily nearer and nearer to Castle Drachenhausen. At thehead of them was a tall, slender knight clad in light chain armor, hishead covered only by a steel cap or bascinet. 

Along the shadow they crept, with only now and then a faint clink orjingle of armor to break the stillness, for most of those who followedthe armed knight were clad in leathern jerkins; only one or two wearingeven so much as a steel breast-plate by way of armor. 

So at last they reached the chasm that yawned beneath the roadway, andthere they stopped, for they had reached the spot toward which they hadbeen journeying. It was Baron Henry of Trutz-Drachen who had thus comein the silence of the night time to the Dragon's house, and his visitboded no good to those within. 

The Baron and two or three of his men talked together in low tones, nowand then looking up at the sheer wall that towered above them. 

"Yonder is the place, Lord Baron, " said one of those who stood with him. "I have scanned every foot of the wall at night for a week past. An weget not in by that way, we get not in at all. A keen eye, a true aim, and a bold man are all that we need, and the business is done. " Hereagain all looked upward at the gray wall above them, rising up in thesilent night air. 

High aloft hung the wooden bartizan or watch-tower, clinging to the faceof the outer wall and looming black against the pale sky above. Threegreat beams pierced the wall, and upon them the wooden tower rested. Themiddle beam jutted out beyond the rest to the distance of five or sixfeet, and the end of it was carved into the rude semblance of a dragon'shead. 

"So, good, " said the Baron at last; "then let us see if thy plan holds, and if Hans Schmidt's aim is true enough to earn the three marks that Ihave promised him. Where is the bag?"

One of those who stood near handed the Baron a leathern pouch, the Baronopened it and drew out a ball of fine thread, another of twine, a coilof stout rope, and a great bundle that looked, until it was unrolled, like a coarse fish-net. It was a rope ladder. While these were beingmade ready, Hans Schmidt, a thick-set, low-browed, broad-shoulderedarcher, strung his stout bow, and carefully choosing three arrowsfrom those in his quiver, he stuck them point downward in the earth. Unwinding the ball of thread, he laid it loosely in large loops upon theground so that it might run easily without hitching, then he tied theend of the thread tightly around one of his arrows. He fitted the arrowto the bow and drew the feather to his ear. Twang! rang the bowstring, and the feathered messenger flew whistling upon its errand to thewatch-tower. The very first shaft did the work. 

"Good, " said Hans Schmidt, the archer, in his heavy voice, "the threemarks are mine, Lord Baron. "

The arrow had fallen over and across the jutting beam between the carveddragon's head and the bartizan, carrying with it the thread, which nowhung from above, glimmering white in the moonlight like a cobweb. 

The rest was an easy task enough. First the twine was drawn up to andover the beam by the thread, then the rope was drawn up by the twine, and last of all the rope ladder by the rope. There it hung like a thin, slender black line against the silent gray walls. 

"And now, " said the Baron, "who will go first and win fifty marks forhis own, and climb the rope ladder to the tower yonder?" Those aroundhesitated. "Is there none brave enough to venture?" said the Baron, after a pause of silence. 

A stout, young fellow, of about eighteen years of age, stepped forwardand flung his flat leathern cap upon the ground. "I will go, my LordBaron, " said he. 

"Good, " said the Baron, "the fifty marks are thine. And now listen, ifthou findest no one in the watch-tower, whistle thus; if the watchmanbe at his post, see that thou makest all safe before thou givest thesignal. When all is ready the others will follow thee. And now go andgood luck go with thee. "

The young fellow spat upon his hands and, seizing the ropes, beganslowly and carefully to mount the flimsy, shaking ladder. Those belowheld it as tight as they were able, but nevertheless he swung backwardand forward and round and round as he climbed steadily upward. Once hestopped upon the way, and those below saw him clutch the ladder closeto him as though dizzied by the height and the motion but he soon beganagain, up, up, up like some great black spider. Presently he came outfrom the black shadow below and into the white moonlight, and then hisshadow followed him step by step up the gray wall upon his way. At lasthe reached the jutting beam, and there again he stopped for a momentclutching tightly to it. The next he was upon the beam, dragging himselftoward the window of the bartizan just above. Slowly raising himselfupon his narrow foothold he peeped cautiously within. Those watchinghim from be low saw him slip his hand softly to his side, and then placesomething between his teeth. It was his dagger. Reaching up, he clutchedthe window sill above him and, with a silent spring, seated himselfupon it. The next moment he disappeared within. A few seconds of silencefollowed, then of sudden a sharp gurgling cry broke the stillness. Therewas another pause of silence, then a faint shrill whistle sounded fromabove. 

"Who will go next?" said the Baron. It was Hans Schmidt who steppedforward. Another followed the arch up the ladder, and another, andanother. Last of all went the Baron Henry himself, and nothing was leftbut the rope ladder hanging from above, and swaying back and forth inthe wind. 

That night Schwartz Carl had been bousing it over a pot of yellow winein the pantry with his old crony, Master Rudolph, the steward; and thetwo, chatting and gossiping together, had passed the time away untillong after the rest of the castle had been wrapped in sleep. Then, perhaps a little unsteady upon his feet, Schwartz Carl betook himselfhomeward to the Melchior tower. 

He stood for a while in the shadow of the doorway, gazing up into thepale sky above him at the great, bright, round moon, that hung like abubble above the sharp peaks of the roofs standing black as ink againstthe sky. But all of a sudden he started up from the post against whichhe had been leaning, and with head bent to one side, stood listeningbreathlessly, for he too had heard that smothered cry from thewatch-tower. So he stood intently, motionlessly, listening, listening;but all was silent except for the monotonous dripping of water in one ofthe nooks of the court-yard, and the distant murmur of the river borneupon the breath of the night air. "Mayhap I was mistaken, " mutteredSchwartz Carl to himself. 

But the next moment the silence was broken again by a faint, shrillwhistle; what did it mean?

Back of the heavy oaken door of the tower was Schwartz Carl's cross-bow, the portable windlass with which the bowstring was drawn back, and apouch of bolts. Schwartz Carl reached back into the darkness, fumblingin the gloom until his fingers met the weapon. Setting his foot in theiron stirrup at the end of the stock, he wound the stout bow-stringinto the notch of the trigger, and carefully fitted the heavy, murderous-looking bolt into the groove. 

Minute after minute passed, and Schwartz Carl, holding his arbelast inhis hand, stood silently waiting and watching in the sharp-cut, blackshadow of the doorway, motionless as a stone statue. Minute after minutepassed. Suddenly there was a movement in the shadow of the arch of thegreat gateway across the court-yard, and the next moment a leathern-cladfigure crept noiselessly out upon the moonlit pavement, and stood therelistening, his head bent to one side. Schwartz Carl knew very wellthat it was no one belonging to the castle, and, from the nature of hisaction, that he was upon no good errand. 

He did not stop to challenge the suspicious stranger. The taking ofanother's life was thought too small a matter for much thought or carein those days. Schwartz Carl would have shot a man for a much smallerreason than the suspicious actions of this fellow. The leather-cladfigure stood a fine target in the moonlight for a cross-bow bolt. Schwartz Carl slowly raised the weapon to his shoulder and took a longand steady aim. Just then the stranger put his fingers to his lips andgave a low, shrill whistle. It was the last whistle that he was to giveupon this earth. There was a sharp, jarring twang of the bow-string, thehiss of the flying bolt, and the dull thud as it struck its mark. Theman gave a shrill, quavering cry, and went staggering back, and thenfell all of a heap against the wall behind him. As though in answer tothe cry, half a dozen men rushed tumultuously out from the shadow ofthe gateway whence the stranger had just come, and then stood in thecourt-yard, looking uncertainly this way and that, not knowing from whatquarter the stroke had come that had laid their comrade low. 

But Schwartz Carl did not give them time to discover that; there was nochance to string his cumbersome weapon again; down he flung it upon theground. "To arms!" he roared in a voice of thunder, and then clapped tothe door of Melchior's tower and shot the great iron bolts with a clangand rattle. 

The next instant the Trutz-Drachen men were thundering at the door, butSchwartz Carl was already far up the winding steps. 

But now the others came pouring out from the gateway. "To the house, "roared Baron Henry. 

Then suddenly a clashing, clanging uproar crashed out upon the night. Dong! Dong! It was the great alarm bell from Melchior's tower--SchwartzCarl was at his post. 

Little Baron Otto lay sleeping upon the great rough bed in his room, dreaming of the White Cross on the hill and of brother John. By and byhe heard the convent bell ringing, and knew that there must be visitorsat the gate, for loud voices sounded through his dream. Presently heknew that he was coming awake, but though the sunny monastery gardengrew dimmer and dimmer to his sleeping sight, the clanging of the belland the sound of shouts grew louder and louder. Then he opened his eyes. Flaming red lights from torches, carried hither and thither by peoplein the court-yard outside, flashed and ran along the wall of hisroom. Hoarse shouts and cries filled the air, and suddenly the shrill, piercing shriek of a woman rang from wall to wall; and through thenoises the great bell from far above upon Melchior's tower clashed andclanged its harsh, resonant alarm. 

Otto sprang from his bed and looked out of the window and down uponthe court-yard below. "Dear God! what dreadful thing hath happened?" hecried and clasped his hands together. 

A cloud of smoke was pouring out from the windows of the building acrossthe court-yard, whence a dull ruddy glow flashed and flickered. Strangemen were running here and there with flaming torches, and the nowcontinuous shrieking of women pierced the air. 

Just beneath the window lay the figure of a man half naked and facedownward upon the stones. Then suddenly Otto cried out in fear andhorror, for, as he looked with dazed and bewildered eyes down into thelurid court-yard beneath, a savage man, in a shining breast-plate andsteel cap, came dragging the dark, silent figure of a woman across thestones; but whether she was dead or in a swoon, Otto could not tell. 

And every moment the pulsing of that dull red glare from the windows ofthe building across the court-yard shone more brightly, and the glarefrom other flaming buildings, which Otto could not see from his window, turned the black, starry night into a lurid day. 

Just then the door of the room was burst open, and in rushed poor oldUrsela, crazy with her terror. She flung herself down upon the floor andcaught Otto around the knees. "Save me!" she cried, "save me!" as thoughthe poor, pale child could be of any help to her at such a time. In thepassageway without shone the light of torches, and the sound of loudfootsteps came nearer and nearer. 

And still through all the din sounded continually the clash and clangand clamor of the great alarm bell. 

The red light flashed into the room, and in the doorway stood a tall, thin figure clad from head to foot in glittering chain armor. Frombehind this fierce knight, with his dark, narrow, cruel face, itsdeep-set eyes glistening in the light of the torches, crowded six oreight savage, low-browed, brutal men, who stared into the room andat the white-faced boy as he stood by the window with the old womanclinging to his knees and praying to him for help. 

"We have cracked the nut and here is the kernel, " said one of them whostood behind the rest, and thereupon a roar of brutal laughter went up. But the cruel face of the armed knight never relaxed into a smile;he strode into the room and laid his iron hand heavily upon the boy'sshoulder. "Art thou the young Baron Otto?" said he, in a harsh voice. 

"Aye, " said the lad; "but do not kill me. "

The knight did not answer him. "Fetch the cord hither, " said he, "anddrag the old witch away. "

It took two of them to loosen poor old Ursela's crazy clutch from abouther young master. Then amid roars of laughter they dragged her away, screaming and scratching and striking with her fists. 

They drew back Otto's arms behind his back and wrapped them round andround with a bowstring. Then they pushed and hustled and thrust himforth from the room and along the passageway, now bright with the flamesthat roared and crackled without. Down the steep stairway they drovehim, where thrice he stumbled and fell amid roars of laughter. At lastthey were out into the open air of the court-yard. Here was a terriblesight, but Otto saw nothing of it; his blue eyes were gazing far away, and his lips moved softly with the prayer that the good monks of St. Michaelsburg had taught him, for he thought that they meant to slay him. 

All around the court-yard the flames roared and snapped and crackled. Four or five figures lay scattered here and there, silent in all theglare and uproar. The heat was so intense that they were soon forcedback into the shelter of the great gateway, where the women captives, under the guard of three or four of the Trutz-Drachen men, were crowdedtogether in dumb, bewildered terror. Only one man was to be seen amongthe captives, poor, old, half blind Master Rudolph, the steward, who crouched tremblingly among the women. They had set the blaze toMelchior's tower, and now, below, it was a seething furnace. Above, thesmoke rolled in black clouds from the windows, but still the alarm bellsounded through all the blaze and smoke. Higher and higher the flamesrose; a trickle of fire ran along the frame buildings hanging aloft inthe air. A clear flame burst out at the peak of the roof, but still thebell rang forth its clamorous clangor. Presently those who watched belowsaw the cluster of buildings bend and sink and sway; there was a crashand roar, a cloud of sparks flew up as though to the very heavensthemselves, and the bell of Melchior's tower was stilled forever. Agreat shout arose from the watching, upturned faces. 

"Forward!" cried Baron Henry, and out from the gateway they swept andacross the drawbridge, leaving Drachenhausen behind them a flamingfurnace blazing against the gray of the early dawning. 

VIII. In the House of the Dragon Scorner. 

Tall, narrow, gloomy room; no furniture but a rude bench a bare stonefloor, cold stone walls and a gloomy ceiling of arched stone over head;a long, narrow slit of a window high above in the wall, through the ironbars of which Otto could see a small patch of blue sky and now and thena darting swallow, for an instant seen, the next instant gone. Suchwas the little baron's prison in Trutz-Drachen. Fastened to a boltand hanging against the walls, hung a pair of heavy chains with gapingfetters at the ends. They were thick with rust, and the red stain ofthe rust streaked the wall below where they hung like a smear of blood. Little Otto shuddered as he looked at them; can those be meant for me, he thought. 

Nothing was to be seen but that one patch of blue sky far up in thewall. No sound from without was to be heard in that gloomy cell ofstone, for the window pierced the outer wall, and the earth and itsnoises lay far below. 

Suddenly a door crashed without, and the footsteps of men were heardcoming along the corridor. They stopped in front of Otto's cell; heheard the jingle of keys, and then a loud rattle of one thrust intothe lock of the heavy oaken door. The rusty bolt was shot back with ascreech, the door opened, and there stood Baron Henry, no longer in hisarmor, but clad in a long black robe that reached nearly to his feet, a broad leather belt was girdled about his waist, and from it dangled ashort, heavy hunting sword. 

Another man was with the Baron, a heavy-faced fellow clad in a leathernjerkin over which was drawn a short coat of linked mail. 

The two stood for a moment looking into the room, and Otto, his paleface glimmering in the gloom, sat upon the edge of the heavy woodenbench or bed, looking back at them out of his great blue eyes. Then thetwo entered and closed the door behind them. 

"Dost thou know why thou art here?" said the Baron, in his deep, harshvoice. 

"Nay, " said Otto, "I know not. "

"So?" said the Baron. "Then I will tell thee. Three years ago the goodBaron Frederick, my uncle, kneeled in the dust and besought mercy at thyfather's hands; the mercy he received was the coward blow that slew him. Thou knowest the story?"

"Aye, " said Otto, tremblingly, "I know it. "

"Then dost thou not know why I am here?" said the Baron. 

"Nay, dear Lord Baron, I know not, " said poor little Otto, and began toweep. 

The Baron stood for a moment or two looking gloomily upon him, as thelittle boy sat there with the tears running down his white face. 

"I will tell thee, " said he, at last; "I swore an oath that the red cockshould crow on Drachenhausen, and I have given it to the dames. I sworean oath that no Vuelph that ever left my hands should be able to strikesuch a blow as thy father gave to Baron Frederick, and now I will fulfilthat too. Catch the boy, Casper, and hold him. "

As the man in the mail shirt stepped toward little Otto, the boy leapedup from where he sat and caught the Baron about the knees. "Oh! dearLord Baron, " he cried, "do not harm me; I am only a little child, I havenever done harm to thee; do not harm me. "

"Take him away, " said the Baron, harshly. 

The fellow stooped, and loosening Otto's hold, in spite of his strugglesand cries, carried him to the bench, against which he held him, whilstthe Baron stood above him. 

Baron Henry and the other came forth from the cell, carefully closingthe wooden door behind them. At the end of the corridor the Baronturned, "Let the leech be sent to the boy, " said he. And then he turnedand walked away. 

Otto lay upon the hard couch in his cell, covered with a shaggy bearskin. His face was paler and thinner than ever, and dark rings encircledhis blue eyes. He was looking toward the door, for there was a noise ofsomeone fumbling with the lock without. 

Since that dreadful day when Baron Henry had come to his cell, only twosouls had visited Otto. One was the fellow who had come with the Baronthat time; his name, Otto found, was Casper. He brought the boy his rudemeals of bread and meat and water. The other visitor was the leech ordoctor, a thin, weasand little man, with a kindly, wrinkled face and agossiping tongue, who, besides binding wounds, bleeding, and leeching, and administering his simple remedies to those who were taken sick inthe castle, acted as the Baron's barber. 

The Baron had left the key in the lock of the door, so that these twomight enter when they chose, but Otto knew that it was neither the onenor the other whom he now heard at the door, working uncertainly withthe key, striving to turn it in the rusty, cumbersome lock. At last thebolts grated back, there was a pause, and then the door opened a littleway, and Otto thought that he could see someone peeping in from without. By and by the door opened further, there was another pause, and thena slender, elfish-looking little girl, with straight black hair andshining black eyes, crept noiselessly into the room. 

She stood close by the door with her finger in her mouth, staring atthe boy where he lay upon his couch, and Otto upon his part lay, full ofwonder, gazing back upon the little elfin creature. 

She, seeing that he made no sign or motion, stepped a little nearer, andthen, after a moment's pause, a little nearer still, until, at last, shestood within a few feet of where he lay. 

"Art thou the Baron Otto?" said she. 

"Yes, " answered Otto. 

"Prut!" said she, "and is that so! Why, I thought that thou wert a greattall fellow at least, and here thou art a little boy no older than CarlMax, the gooseherd. " Then, after a little pause--"My name is Pauline, and my father is the Baron. I heard him tell my mother all about thee, and so I wanted to come here and see thee myself: Art thou sick?"

"Yes, " said Otto, "I am sick. "

"And did my father hurt thee?"

"Aye, " said Otto, and his eyes filled with tears, until one sparklingdrop trickled slowly down his white face. 

Little Pauline stood looking seriously at him for a while. "I am sorryfor thee, Otto, " said she, at last. And then, at her childish pity, hebegan crying in earnest. 

This was only the first visit of many from the little maid, for afterthat she often came to Otto's prison, who began to look for her comingfrom day to day as the one bright spot in the darkness and the gloom. 

Sitting upon the edge of his bed and gazing into his face with wide openeyes, she would listen to him by the hour, as he told her of his life inthat far away monastery home; of poor, simple brother John's wonderfulvisions, of the good Abbot's books with their beautiful pictures, and ofall the monkish tales and stories of knights and dragons and heroes andemperors of ancient Rome, which brother Emmanuel had taught him to readin the crabbed monkish Latin in which they were written. 

One day the little maid sat for a long while silent after he had endedspeaking. At last she drew a deep breath. "And are all these things thatthou tellest me about the priests in their castle really true?" saidshe. 

"Yes, " said Otto, "all are true. "

"And do they never go out to fight other priests?"

"No, " said Otto, "they know nothing of fighting. "

"So!" said she. And then fell silent in the thought of the wonder ofit all, and that there should be men in the world that knew nothing ofviolence and bloodshed; for in all the eight years of her life she hadscarcely been outside of the walls of Castle Trutz-Drachen. 

At another time it was of Otto's mother that they were speaking. 

"And didst thou never see her, Otto?" said the little girl. 

"Aye, " said Otto, "I see her sometimes in my dreams, and her face alwaysshines so bright that I know she is an angel; for brother John has oftenseen the dear angels, and he tells me that their faces always shine inthat way. I saw her the night thy father hurt me so, for I could notsleep and my head felt as though it would break asunder. Then shecame and leaned over me and kissed my forehead, and after that I fellasleep. "

"But where did she come from, Otto?" said the little girl. 

"From paradise, I think, " said Otto, with that patient seriousness thathe had caught from the monks, and that sat so quaintly upon him. 

"So!" said little Pauline; and then, after a pause, "That is why thymother kissed thee when thy head ached--because she is an angel. WhenI was sick my mother bade Gretchen carry me to a far part of the house, because I cried and so troubled her. Did thy mother ever strike thee, Otto?"

"Nay, " said Otto. 

"Mine hath often struck me, " said Pauline. 

One day little Pauline came bustling into Otto's cell, her head full ofthe news which she carried. "My father says that thy father is outin the woods somewhere yonder, back of the castle, for Fritz, theswineherd, told my father that last night he had seen a fire in thewoods, and that he had crept up to it without anyone knowing. There hehad seen the Baron Conrad and six of his men, and that they were eatingone of the swine that they had killed and roasted. Maybe, " said she, seating herself upon the edge of Otto's couch; "maybe my father willkill thy father, and they will bring him here and let him lie upon ablack bed with bright candles burning around him, as they did my uncleFrederick when he was killed. "

"God forbid!" said Otto, and then lay for a while with his handsclasped. "Dost thou love me, Pauline?" said he, after a while. 

"Yes, " said Pauline, "for thou art a good child, though my father saysthat thy wits are cracked. "

"Mayhap they are, " said Otto, simply, "for I have often been told sobefore. But thou wouldst not see me die, Pauline; wouldst thou?"

"Nay, " said Pauline, "I would not see thee die, for then thou couldsttell me no more stories; for they told me that uncle Frederick could notspeak because he was dead. "

"Then listen, Pauline, " said Otto; "if I go not away from here I shallsurely die. Every day I grow more sick and the leech cannot cure me. "Here he broke down and, turning his face upon the couch, began crying, while little Pauline sat looking seriously at him. 

"Why dost thou cry, Otto?" said she, after a while. 

"Because, " said he, "I am so sick, and I want my father to come and takeme away from here. "

"But why dost thou want to go away?" said Pauline. "If thy father takesthee away, thou canst not tell me any more stories. "

"Yes, I can, " said Otto, "for when I grow to be a man I will comeagain and marry thee, and when thou art my wife I can tell thee all thestories that I know. Dear Pauline, canst thou not tell my father where Iam, that he may come here and take me away before I die?"

"Mayhap I could do so, " said Pauline, after a little while, "forsometimes I go with Casper Max to see his mother, who nursed me when Iwas a baby. She is the wife of Fritz, the swineherd, and she will makehim tell thy father; for she will do whatever I ask of her, and Fritzwill do whatever she bids him do. "

"And for my sake, wilt thou tell him, Pauline?" said Otto. 

"But see, Otto, " said the little girl, "if I tell him, wilt thou promiseto come indeed and marry me when thou art grown a man?"

"Yes, " said Otto, very seriously, "I will promise. "

"Then I will tell thy father where thou art, " said she. 

"But thou wilt do it without the Baron Henry knowing, wilt thou not, Pauline?"

"Yes, " said she, "for if my father and my mother knew that I did sucha thing, they would strike me, mayhap send me to my bed alone in thedark. "

IX. How One-eyed Hans came to Trutz-Drachen. 

Fritz, the swineherd, sat eating his late supper of porridge out of agreat, coarse, wooden bowl; wife Katherine sat at the other end of thetable, and the half-naked little children played upon the earthen floor. A shaggy dog lay curled up in front of the fire, and a grunting pigscratched against a leg of the rude table close beside where the womansat. 

"Yes, yes, " said Katherine, speaking of the matter of which they hadalready been talking. "It is all very true that the Drachenhausens are abad lot, and I for one am of no mind to say no to that; all the same itis a sad thing that a simple-witted little child like the young Baronshould be so treated as the boy has been; and now that our Lord Baronhas served him so that he, at least, will never be able to do us 'harm, I for one say that he should not be left there to die alone in thatblack cell. "

Fritz, the swineherd, gave a grunt at this without raising his eyes fromthe bowl. 

"Yes, good, " said Katherine, "I know what thou meanest, Fritz, and thatit is none of my business to be thrusting my finger into the Baron'sdish. But to hear the way that dear little child spoke when she was herethis morn--it would have moved a heart of stone to hear her tell of allhis pretty talk. Thou wilt try to let the red-beard know that that poorboy, his son, is sick to death in the black cell; wilt thou not, Fritz?"

The swineherd dropped his wooden spoon into the bowl with a clatter. "Potstausand!" he cried; "art thou gone out of thy head to let thy witsrun upon such things as this of which thou talkest to me? If it shouldcome to our Lord Baron's ears he would cut the tongue from out thy headand my head from off my shoulders for it. Dost thou think I am going tomeddle in such a matter as this? Listen! these proud Baron folk, withtheir 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 muchto them as one of my black swine. Why should I trouble my head if theychoose to lop and trim one another? The fewer there are of them thebetter for us, say I. We poor folk have a hard enough life of it withoutthrusting 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 ourbetraying his affairs to the Red-beard?"

"Nay, " said Katherine, "thou hast naught to do in the matter but to tellthe Red-beard in what part of the castle the little Baron lies. "

"And what good would that do?" said Fritz, the swineherd. 

"I know not, " said Katherine, "but I have promised the little one thatthou wouldst find the Baron Conrad and tell him that much. "

"Thou hast promised a mare's egg, " said her husband, angrily. "How shallI find the Baron Conrad to bear a message to him, when our Baron hasbeen looking for him in vain for two days past?"

"Thou has found him once and thou mayst find him again, " said Katherine, "for it is not likely that he will keep far away from here whilst hisboy is in such sore need of help. "

"I will have nothing to do with it!" said Fritz, and he got up from thewooden block whereon he was sitting and stumped out of the house. But, then, Katherine had heard him talk in that way before, and knew, inspite of his saying "no, " that, sooner or later, he would do as shewished. 

Two days later a very stout little one-eyed man, clad in a leathernjerkin and wearing a round leathern cap upon his head, came toiling upthe path to the postern door of Trutz-Drachen, his back bowed under theburthen of a great peddler's pack. It was our old friend the one-eyedHans, though even his brother would hardly have known him in his presentguise, for, besides having turned peddler, he had grown of a suddensurprisingly fat. 

Rap-tap-tap! He knocked at the door with a knotted end of the crookedthorned staff upon which he leaned. He waited for a while and thenknocked again--rap-tap-tap!

Presently, with a click, a little square wicket that pierced the doorwas 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 am come all the way from Gruenstadt, with a pack full of such gay things as thou never laid eyes on before. Here be rings and bracelets and necklaces that might be of pure silverand set with diamonds and rubies, for anything that thy dear one couldtell if he saw thee decked in them. And all are so cheap that thou hastonly to say, 'I want them, ' and they are thine. "

The frightened face at the window looked from right to left and fromleft 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 thylegs can carry thee, for if the Lord Baron should find thee here talkingsecretly at the postern door, he would loose the wolf-hounds upon thee. "

"Prut, " said one-eyed Hans, with a grin, "the Baron is too big a fly tosee such a little gnat as I; but wolf-hounds or no wolf-hounds, Ican never go hence without showing thee the pretty things that I havebrought from the town, even though my stay be at the danger of my ownhide. "

He flung the pack from off his shoulders as he spoke and fell tounstrapping it, while the round face of the lass (her eyes big withcuriosity) peered down at him through the grated iron bars. 

Hans held up a necklace of blue and white beads that glistened likejewels in the sun, and from them hung a gorgeous filigree cross. "Didstthou ever see a sweeter thing than this?" said he; "and look, here is acomb that even the silversmith would swear was pure silver all the waythrough. " Then, in a soft, wheedling voice, "Canst thou not let me in, my little bird? Sure there are other lasses besides thyself who wouldlike to trade with a poor peddler who has travelled all the way fromGruenstadt just to please the pretty ones of Trutz-Drachen. "

"Nay, " said the lass, in a frightened voice, "I cannot let thee in; Iknow not what the Baron would do to me, even now, if he knew that I washere talking to a stranger at the postern;" and she made as if she wouldclap to the little window in his face; but the one-eyed Hans thrust hisstaff betwixt the bars and so kept the shutter open. 

"Nay, nay, " said he, eagerly, "do not go away from me too soon. Look, dear one; seest thou this necklace?"

"Aye, " said she, looking hungrily at it. 

"Then listen; if thou wilt but let me into the castle, so that I maystrike a trade, I will give it to thee for thine own without thy payinga barley corn for it. "

The girl looked and hesitated, and then looked again; the temptation wastoo great. There was a noise of softly drawn bolts and bars, the doorwas hesitatingly opened a little way, and, in a twinkling, the one-eyedHans 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 thounot help me to a trade?"

"I will tell my sister that thou art here, " said she, and away she ranfrom the little stone hallway, carefully bolting and locking the furtherdoor behind her. 

The door that the girl had locked was the only one that connected thepostern hail with the castle. 

The one-eyed Hans stood looking after her. "Thou fool!" he muttered tohimself, "to lock the door behind thee. What shall I do next, I shouldlike to know? Here am I just as badly off as I was when I stood outsidethe walls. Thou hussy! If thou hadst but let me into the castle for onlytwo little minutes, I would have found somewhere to have hidden myselfwhile thy back was turned. But what shall I do now?" He rested his packupon the floor and stood looking about him. 

Built in the stone wall opposite to him, was a high, narrow fireplacewithout carving of any sort. As Hans' one eye wandered around the barestone space, his glance fell at last upon it, and there it rested. Fora while he stood looking intently at it, presently he began rubbing hishand over his bristling chin in a thoughtful, meditative manner. Finallyhe drew a deep breath, and giving himself a shake as though to arousehimself from his thoughts, and after listening a moment or two tomake sure that no one was nigh, he walked softly to the fireplace, andstooping, peered up the chimney. Above him yawned a black cavernousdepth, inky with the soot of years. Hans straightened himself, andtilting his leathern cap to one side, began scratching his bullet-head;at last he drew a long breath. "Yes, good, " he muttered to himself; "hewho jumps into the river must e'en swim the best he can. It is a vile, dirty place to thrust one's self; but I am in for it now, and must makethe best of a lame horse. "

He settled the cap more firmly upon his head, spat upon his hands, andonce more stooping in the fireplace, gave a leap, and up the chimney hewent with a rattle of loose mortar and a black trickle of soot. 

By and by footsteps sounded outside the door. There was a pause; ahurried whispering of women's voices; the twitter of a nervous laugh, and then the door was pushed softly opens and the girl to whom theone-eyed Hans had given the necklace of blue and white beads with thefiligree cross hanging from it, peeped uncertainly into the room. Behindher broad, heavy face were three others, equally homely and stolid; fora while all four stood there, looking blankly into the room and aroundit. Nothing was there but the peddler's knapsack lying in the middle ofthe floor-the man was gone. The light of expectancy slowly faded Out ofthe girl's face, and in its place succeeded first bewilderment and thendull alarm. "But, dear heaven, " she said, "where then has the peddlerman gone?"

A moment or two of silence followed her speech. "Perhaps, " said one ofthe others, in a voice hushed with awe, "perhaps it was the evil onehimself to whom thou didst open the door. "

Again there was a hushed and breathless pause; it was the lass who hadlet Hans in at the postern, who 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 oneeye. " The four girls crossed themselves, and their eyes grew big andround with the fright. 

Suddenly a shower of mortar came rattling down the chimney. "Ach!" criedthe four, as with one voice. Bang! the door was clapped to and away theyscurried like a flock of frightened rabbits. 

When Jacob, the watchman, came that way an hour later, upon his eveninground of the castle, he found a peddler's knapsack lying in the middleof the floor. He turned it over with his pike-staff and saw that it wasfull of beads and trinkets and ribbons. 

"How came this here?" said he. And then, without waiting for the answerwhich he did not expect, he flung it over his shoulder and marched awaywith it. 

X. How Hans Brought Terror to the Kitchen. 

Hans found himself in a pretty pickle in the chimney, for the soot gotinto his one eye and set it to watering, and into his nose and set himto sneezing, and into his mouth and his ears and his hair. But stillhe struggled on, up and up; "for every chimney has a top, " said Hansto himself "and I am sure to climb out somewhere or other. " Suddenly hecame 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, " hemuttered, "if I still go upward I may come out at the top of some tallchimney-stack with no way of getting down outside. Now, below herethere must be a fire-place somewhere, for a chimney does not start fromnothing at all; yes, good! we will go down a while and see what we makeof that. "

It was a crooked, zigzag road that he had to travel, and rough and hardinto the bargain. His one eye tingled and smarted, and his knees andelbows were rubbed to the quick; nevertheless One-eyed Hans had been inworse trouble than this in his life. 

Down he went and down he went, further than he had climbed upwardbefore. "Sure, I must be near some place or other, " he thought. 

As though in instant answer to his thoughts, he heard the sudden soundof a voice so close beneath him that he stopped short in his downwardclimbing 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 havehappened then would have been no hard matter to foretell. 

Hans braced his back against one side of the chimney, his feet againstthe other and then, leaning forward, looked down between his knees. Thegray light of the coming evening glimmered in a wide stone fireplacejust below him. Within the fireplace two people were moving about uponthe broad hearth, a great, fat woman and a shock-headed boy. The womanheld a spit with two newly trussed fowls upon it, so that One-eyed Hansknew that she must be the cook. 

"Thou ugly toad, " said the woman to the boy, "did I not bid thee make afire an hour ago? and now, here there is not so much as a spark to roastthe fowls withall, and they to be basted for the lord Baron's supper. Where hast thou been for all this time?"

"No matter, " said the boy, sullenly, as he laid the fagots ready for thelighting; "no matter, I was not running after Long Jacob, the bowman, totry to catch him for a sweetheart, as thou hast been doing. "

The reply was instant and ready. The cook raised her hand; "smack!" shestruck and a roar from the scullion followed. 

"Yes, good, " thought Hans, as he looked down upon them; "I am glad thatthe boy's ear was not on my head. "

"Now give me no more of thy talk, " said the woman, "but do the workthat thou hast been bidden. " Then--"How came all this black soot here, Ishould like to know?"

"How should I know?" snuffled the scullion, "mayhap thou wouldst blamethat on me also?"

"That is my doing, " whispered Hans to himself; "but if they light thefire, what then becomes of me?"

"See now, " said the cook; "I go to make the cakes ready; if I come backand find that thou hast not built the fire, I will warm thy other earfor thee. "

"So, " thought Hans; "then will be my time to come down the chimney, forthere will be but one of them. "

The next moment he heard the door close and knew that the cook had goneto make the cakes ready as she said. And as he looked down he saw thatthe boy was bending over the bundle of fagots, blowing the spark thathe had brought in upon the punk into a flame. The dry fagots began tocrackle and blaze. "Now is my time, " said Hans to himself. Bracing hiselbows against each side of the chimney, he straightened his legs sothat he might fall clear His motions loosened little shower of soot thatfell rattling upon the fagots that were now beginning to blaze brightly, whereupon the boy raised his face and looked up. Hans loosened his holdupon the chimney; crash! he fell, lighting upon his feet in the midstof the burning fagots. The scullion boy tumbled backward upon the floor, where he lay upon the broad of his back with a face as white asdough and eyes and mouth agape, staring speechlessly at the frightfulinky-black figure standing in the midst of the flames and smoke. Thenhis scattered wits came back to him. "It is the evil one, " he roared. And thereupon, turning upon his side, he half rolled, half scrambled tothe door. Then out he leaped and, banging it to behind him, flew downthe passageway, yelling with fright and never daring once to look behindhim. 

All the time One-eyed Hans was brushing away the sparks that clung tohis clothes. He was as black as ink from head to foot with the soot fromthe chimney. 

"So far all is good, " he muttered to himself, "but if I go wanderingabout in my sooty shoes I will leave black tracks to follow me, so thereis nothing to do but e'en to go barefoot. "

He stooped and drawing the pointed soft leather shoes from his feet, hethrew them upon the now blazing fagots, where they writhed and twistedand wrinkled, and at last burst into a flame. Meanwhile Hans lost notime; he must find a hiding-place, and quickly, if he would yet hopeto escape. A great bread trough stood in the corner of the kitchen--ahopper-shaped chest with a flat lid. It was the best hiding place thatthe room afforded. Without further thought Hans ran to it, snatching upfrom the table as he passed a loaf of black bread and a bottle half fullof stale wine, for he had had nothing to eat since that morning. Intothe great bread trough he climbed, and drawing the lid down upon him, 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 voiceswas heard at the door, whispering together in low tones. Suddenly thedoor was flung open and a tall, lean, lantern-jawed fellow, clad inrough frieze, strode into the room and stood there glaring with halffrightened boldness around about him; three or four women and thetrembling scullion crowded together in a frightened group behind him. 

The man was Long Jacob, the bowman; but, after all, his boldness wasall wasted, for not a thread or a hair was to be seen, but only thecrackling fire throwing its cheerful ruddy glow upon the wall of theroom, 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 divefor the scullion, who ducked around the skirts of one of the other womenand so escaped for the time; but Long Jacob wrinkled up his nose andsniffed. "Nay, " said he, "me thinks that there lieth some truth in thetale that the boy hath told, for here is a vile smell of burned hornthat the black one bath 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 Trutz-Drachen; nota sound was heard but the squeaking of mice scurring behind thewainscoting, the dull dripping of moisture from the eaves, or thesighing of the night wind around the gables and through the nakedwindows of the castle. 

The lid of the great dough trough was softly raised, and a face, blackwith soot, peeped cautiously out from under it. Then little by littlearose a figure as black as the face; and One-eyed Hans stepped out uponthe floor, stretching and rubbing himself. 

"Methinks I must have slept, " he muttered. "Hui, I am as stiff as a newleather doublet, and now, what next is to become of me? I hope my luckmay 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 along stone gallery, opening at one end upon the court-yard by a highflight of stone steps. A man-at-arms in breast-plate and steel cap, andbearing a long pike, paced up and down the length of this gallery, nowand then stopping, leaning over the edge, and gazing up into the starrysky above; then, with a long drawn yawn, lazily turning back to themonotonous watch again. 

A dark figure crept out from an arched doorway at the lower part of thelong straight building, and some little distance below the end gallery, but the sentry saw nothing of it, for his back was turned. As silentlyand as stealthily as a cat the figure crawled along by the dark shadowywall, now and then stopping, and then again creeping slowly forwardtoward the gallery where the man-at-arms moved monotonously up and down. It was One-eyed Hans in his bare feet. 

Inch by inch, foot by foot--the black figure crawled along in the angleof the wall; inch by inch and foot by foot, but ever nearer and nearerto 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 thesentinel upon watch came to the very end of the gallery and stood thereleaning upon his spear. Had he looked down below he could not havefailed to have seen One-eyed Hans lying there motionlessly; but he wasgazing far away over the steep black roofs beyond, and never saw theunsuspected presence. Minute after minute passed, and the one stoodthere looking out into the night and the other lay crouching by thewall; then with a weary sigh the sentry turned and began slowly pacingback again toward the farther end of the gallery. 

Instantly the motionless figure below arose and glided noiselessly andswiftly 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 these, flatteningitself up against the wall, where it stood straight and motionless asthe shadows around it. 

Down the long gallery came the watchman, his sword clinking loudly inthe 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 theshadow of the post and crept rapidly and stealthily after him. One step, two steps the sentinel took; for a moment the black figure behind himseemed to crouch and draw together, then like a flash it leaped forwardupon its victim. 

A shadowy cloth fell upon the man's face, and in an instant he was flungback and down with a muffled crash upon the stones. Then followed afierce and silent struggle in the darkness, but strong and sturdy as theman was, he was no match for the almost superhuman strength of One-eyedHans. The cloth which he had flung over his head was tied tightly andsecurely. Then the man was forced upon his face and, in spite of hisfierce struggles, his arms were bound around and around with strong finecord; next his feet were bound in the same way, and the task was done. Then Hans stood upon his feet, and wiped the sweat from his swarthyforehead. "Listen, brother, " he whispered, and as he spoke he stoopedand pressed something cold and hard against the neck of the other. "Dost thou know the feel of this? It is a broad dagger, and if thoudost contrive to loose that gag from thy mouth and makest any outcry, itshall be sheathed in thy weasand. "

So saying, he thrust the knife back again into its sheath, then stoopingand picking up the other, he flung him across his shoulder like a sack, and running down the steps as lightly as though his load was nothing atall, he carried his burden to the arched doorway whence he had come alittle while before. There, having first stripped his prisoner ofall his weapons, Hans sat the man up in the angle of the wall. "So, brother;" said he, "now we can talk with more ease than we could upyonder. I will tell thee frankly why I am here; it is to find where theyoung Baron Otto of Drachenhausen is kept. If thou canst tell me, well and good; if not, I must e'en cut thy weasand and find me one whoknoweth 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 hasttold me; only bear in mind what I said concerning my dagger. "

Thereupon, he unbound his prisoner, and the fellow slowly rose to hisfeet. He shook himself and looked all about him in a heavy, bewilderedfashion, as though he had just awakened from a dream. 

His right hand slid furtively down to his side, but the dagger-sheathwas empty. 

"Come, brother!" said Hans, impatiently, "time is passing, and once lostcan never be found again. Show me the way to the young Baron Otto 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, andtogether they were swallowed up in the yawning shadows, and again thehush of night-time lay upon the Castle of Trutz-Drachen. 

XI. How Otto was Saved. 

Little Otto was lying upon the hard couch in his cell, tossing inrestless and feverish sleep; suddenly a heavy hand was laid upon him anda voice whispered in his ear, "Baron, Baron Otto, waken, rouse yourself;I am come to help you. I am One-eyed Hans. "

Otto was awake in an instant and raised himself upon his elbow in thedarkness. "One-eyed Hans, " he breathed, "One-eyed Hans; who is One-eyedHans?"

"True, " said the other, "thou dost not know me. I am thy father'strusted servant, and am the only one excepting his own blood and kinwho has clung to him in this hour of trouble. Yes, all are gone but mealone, 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 thoucanst take me away from this wicked place. Alas, dear Hans! I am wearyand sick to death. " And poor little Otto began to weep silently in thedarkness. 

"Aye, aye, " said Hans, gruffly, "it is no place for a little childto be. Canst thou climb, my little master? canst thou climb a knottedrope?"

"Nay, " said Otto, "I can never climb again! See, Hans;" and he flungback 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 thedarkness. Suddenly he drew back with a snarl like an angry wolf. "Oh!the black, bloody wretches!" he cried, hoarsely; "and have they donethat to thee, a little child?"

"Yes, " said Otto, "the Baron Henry did it. " And then again he began tocry. 

"There, there, " said Hans, roughly, "weep no more. Thou shalt get awayfrom here even if thou canst not climb; I myself will help thee. Thyfather is already waiting below the window here, and thou shalt soon bewith him. There, there, cry no more. "

While he was speaking Hans had stripped off his peddler's leathernjacket, and there, around his body, was wrapped coil after coil of stouthempen rope tied in knots at short distances. He began unwinding therope, 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 cordand a leaden weight pierced by a hole, both of which he had brought withhim for the use to which he now put them. He tied the lead to the end ofthe cord, then whirling the weight above his head, he flung it up towardthe window high above. Twice the piece of lead fell back again into theroom; the third time it flew out between the iron bars carrying the cordwith it. Hans held the ball in his hand and paid out the string as theweight carried it downward toward the ground beneath. Suddenly the cordstopped 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 thecord. 

"See, " said Hans, "they have heard thee up above in heaven; it was thyfather who did that. " Quickly and deftly he tied the cord to the end ofthe knotted rope; then he gave an answering jerk upon the string. Thenext moment the rope was drawn up to the window and down the outside bythose below. Otto lay watching the rope as it crawled up to the windowand out into the night like a great snake, while One-eyed Hans held theother end lest it should be drawn too far. At last it stopped. "Good, "muttered Hans, as though to himself. "The rope is long enough. "

He waited for a few minutes and then, drawing upon the rope and findingthat it was held from below, he spat upon his hands and began slowlyclimbing up to the window above. Winding his arm around the iron bars ofthe grating that guarded it, he thrust his hand into the pouch that hungby his side, and drawing forth a file, fell to work cutting through allthat now lay between Otto and liberty. 

It was slow, slow work, and it seemed to Otto as though Hans would neverfinish his task, as lying upon his hard couch he watched that figure, black against the sky, bending over its work. Now and then the filescreeched 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 hetried the effects of his work, but still the iron held. At last heset his shoulder against it, and as Otto looked he saw the iron bend. Suddenly there was a sharp crack, and a piece of the grating went flyingout into the night. 

Hans tied the rope securely about the stump of the stout iron bar thatyet remained, and then slid down again into the room below. 

"My little lord, " said he, "dost thou think that if I carry thee, thouwilt be able and strong enough to cling to my neck?"

"Aye, " said Otto, "methinks I will be able to do that. "

"Then come, " said Hans. 

He stooped as he spoke, and gently lifting Otto from his rude and ruggedbed he drew his broad leathern belt around them both, buckling it firmlyand 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 around the neck of the faithful Hans. 

"And now art thou ready?" said Hans

"Aye, " said Otto. 

"Then courage, " said Hans, and he turned and swung his leg over theabyss below. 

The next moment they were hanging in mid-air. 

Otto looked down and gave a gasp. "The mother of heaven bless us, " hewhispered, and then closed his eyes, faint and dizzy at the sight ofthat sheer depth beneath. Hans said nothing, but shutting his teethand wrapping his legs around the rope, he began slowly descending, handunder hand. Down, down, down he went, until to Otto, with his eyes shutand his head leaning upon Hans' shoulder, it seemed as though it couldnever 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 uponthe ground. 

A figure wrapped in a dark cloak arose from the shadow of the wall, andtook Otto in its arms. It was Baron Conrad. 

"My son--my little child!" he cried, in a choked, trembling voice, andthat was all. And Otto pressed his cheek against his father's and begancrying. 

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! mylittle child!" And therewith he broke down, and his whole body shookwith fierce, dry sobs; for men in those days did not seek to hide theirgrief as they do now, but were fierce and strong in the expression ofthat as of all else. 

"Never mind, dear father, " whispered Otto; "it did not hurt me so verymuch, " and he pressed his lips against his father's cheek. 

Little Otto had but one hand. 

XII. A Ride For Life. 

But not yet was Otto safe, and all danger past and gone by. Suddenly, asthey stood there, the harsh clangor of a bell broke the silence ofthe starry night above their heads, and as they raised their faces andlooked up, they saw lights flashing from window to window. Presentlycame the sound of a hoarse voice shouting something that, from thedistance, they could not understand. 

One-eyed Hans smote his hand upon his thigh. Look said he, "here iswhat comes of having a soft heart in one's bosom. I overcame and bound awatchman 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, bethinking how the young Baron hated the thought ofbloodshed, I said to myself, 'No, Hans, I will spare the villain'slife. ' See now what comes of being merciful; here, by hook or by crook, the fellow has loosed himself from his bonds, and brings the wholecastle about our ears like a nest of wasps. "

"We must fly, " said the Baron; "for nothing else in the world isleft me, now that all have deserted me in this black time of trouble, excepting these six faithful ones. "

His voice was bitter, bitter, as he spoke; then stooping, he raised Ottoin his arms, and bearing him gently, began rapidly descending the rockyslope to the level road that ran along the edge of the hill beneath. Close behind him followed the rest; Hans still grimed with soot and inhis bare feet. A little distance from the road and under the shade ofthe forest trees, seven horses stood waiting. The Baron mounted uponhis great black charger, seating little Otto upon the saddle in front ofhim. "Forward!" he cried, and away they clattered and out upon the road. Then--"To St. Michaelsburg, " said Baron Conrad, in his deep voice, andthe horses' heads were turned to the westward, and away they gallopedthrough the black shadows of the forest, leaving Trutz-Drachen behindthem. 

But still the sound of the alarm bell rang through the beating of thehorses' hoofs, and as Hans looked over his shoulder, he saw the lightof torches flashing hither and thither along the outer walls in front ofthe great barbican. 

In Castle Trutz-Drachen all was confusion and uproar: flashing torcheslit up the dull gray walls; horses neighed and stamped, and men shoutedand called to one another in the bustle of making ready. Presently BaronHenry came striding along the corridor clad in light armor, which he hadhastily donned when roused from his sleep by the news that his prisonerhad escaped. Below in the courtyard his horse was standing, and withoutwaiting for assistance, he swung himself into the saddle. Then away theyall rode and down the steep path, armor ringing, swords clanking, andiron-shod hoofs striking sparks of fire from the hard stones. At theirhead rode Baron Henry; his triangular shield hung over his shoulder, andin his hand he bore a long, heavy, steel-pointed lance with a pennantflickering darkly from the end. 

At the high-road at the base of the slope they paused, for they were ata loss to know which direction the fugitives had taken; a half a scoreof the retainers leaped from their horses, and began hurrying abouthither and thither, and up and down, like hounds searching for the lostscent, and all the time Baron Henry sat still as a rock in the midst ofthe confusion. 

Suddenly a shout was raised from the forest just beyond the road; theyhad come upon the place where the horses had been tied. It was an easymatter to trace the way that Baron Conrad and his followers had takenthence back to the high-road, but there again they were at a loss. Theroad ran straight as an arrow eastward and westward--had the fugitivestaken their way to the east or to the west?

Baron Henry called his head-man, Nicholas Stein, to him, and thetwo spoke together for a while in an undertone. At last the Baron'slieutenant reined his horse back, and choosing first one and thenanother, divided the company into two parties. The baron placed himselfat 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 inopposite directions. 

It was toward the westward that Baron Henry of Trutz-Drachen rode at thehead of his men. 

The early springtide sun shot its rays of misty, yellow light across therolling tops of the forest trees where the little birds were singing inthe glory of the May morning. But Baron Henry and his followers thoughtnothing of the beauty of the peaceful day, and heard nothing of themultitudinous sound of the singing birds as, with a confused sound ofgalloping hoofs, they swept along the highway, leaving behind them aslow-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 andthere, before the pursuing horsemen, lay the crest of the mountaintoward which they were riding, and up which the road wound steeply. 

"Yonder they are, " cried a sudden voice behind Baron Henry ofTrutz-Drachen, and at the cry all looked upward. 

Far away upon the mountain-side curled a cloud of dust, from the midstof which came the star-like flash of burnished armor gleaming in thesun. 

Baron Henry said never a word, but his lips curled in a grim smile. 

And as the mist wreaths parted One-eyed Hans looked behind and downinto the leafy valley beneath. "Yonder they come, " said he. "They havefollowed sharply to gain so much upon us, even though our horses arewearied with all the travelling we have done hither and yon these fivedays past. How far is it, Lord Baron, from here to Michaelsburg?"

"About ten leagues, " said the Baron, in a gloomy voice. 

Hans puckered his mouth as though to whistle, but the Baron saw nothingof it, for he was gazing straight before him with a set and stony face. Those who followed him looked at one another, and the same thought wasin the mind of each--how long would it be before those who pursued wouldclose 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 otherside; for there the road was smooth and level as it sloped away into thevalley, but it was in dead silence that they rode. Now and then thosewho followed the Baron looked back over their shoulders. They had gaineda mile upon their pursuers when the helmeted heads rose above the crestof the mountain, but what was the gain of a mile with a smooth roadbetween them, and fresh horses to weary ones?

On they rode and on they rode. The sun rose higher and higher, andhotter and hotter. There was no time to rest and water their pantinghorses. Only once, when they crossed a shallow stretch of water, thepoor animals bent their heads and caught a few gulps from the coolstream, and the One-eyed Hans washed a part of the soot from his handsand face. On and on they rode; never once did the Baron Conrad move hishead or alter that steadfast look as, gazing straight before him, herode steadily forward along the endless stretch of road, with poorlittle Otto's yellow head and white face resting against his steel-cladshoulder--and St. Michaelsburg still eight leagues away. 

A little rise of ground lay before them, and as they climbed it, all, excepting the baron, turned their heads as with one accord and lookedbehind them. Then more than one heart failed, for through the leavesof the trees below, they caught the glint of armor of those whofollowed--not more than a mile away. The next moment they swept over thecrest, and there, below them, lay the broad shining river, and nearer atributary stream spanned by a rude, narrow, three-arched, stone bridgewhere the road crossed the deep, slow-moving water. 

Down the slope plodded the weary horses, and so to the bridge-head. 

"Halt, " cried the baron suddenly, and drew rein. 

The others stood bewildered. What did he mean to do? He turned to Hansand 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?"

"Aye, " said Hans, briefly. 

"Swear it, " said the Baron. 

"I swear it, " said Hans, and he drew the sign of the cross upon hisheart. 

"That is good, " said the Baron, grimly. "Then take thou this child, and with the others ride with all the speed that thou canst to St. Michaelsburg. Give the child into the charge of the Abbot Otto. Tellhim how that I have sworn fealty to the Emperor, and what I have gainedthereby--my castle burnt, my people slain, and this poor, simple child, my only son, mutilated by my enemy. 

"And thou, my Lord Baron?" said Hans. 

"I will stay here, " said the Baron, quietly, "and keep back those whofollow as long as God will give me grace so to do. "

A murmur of remonstrance rose among the faithful few who were withhim, two of whom were near of kin. But Conrad of Drachenhausen turnedfiercely upon them. 

"How now, " said he, "have I fallen so low in my troubles that even yedare to raise your voices against me? By the good Heaven, I will beginmy work here by slaying the first man who dares to raise word againstmy bidding. " Then he turned from them. "Here, Hans, " said he, "take theboy; and remember, knave, what thou hast sworn. "

He pressed Otto close to his breast in one last embrace. "My littlechild, " he murmured, "try not to hate thy father when thou thinkest ofhim hereafter, even though he be hard and bloody as thou knowest. "

But with his suffering and weakness, little Otto knew nothing of whatwas passing; it was only as in a faint flickering dream that he lived inwhat was done around him. 

"Farewell, Otto, " said the Baron, but Otto's lips only moved faintly inanswer. His father kissed him upon either cheek. "Come, Hans, " saidhe, hastily, "take him hence;" and he loosed Otto's arms from about hisneck. 

Hans took Otto upon the saddle in front of him. 

"Oh! my dear Lord Baron, " said he, and then stopped with a gulp, andturned his grotesquely twitching face aside. 

"Go, " said the Baron, harshly, "there is no time to lose in woman'stears. "

"Farewell, Conrad! farewell, Conrad!" said his two kinsmen, and comingforward they kissed him upon the cheek then they turned and rode awayafter Hans, and Baron Conrad was left alone to face his mortal foe. 

XIII. How Baron Conrad Held the Bridge. 

As the last of his followers swept around the curving road and was lostto sight, Baron Conrad gave himself a shake, as though to drive away thethoughts that lay upon him. Then he rode slowly forward to the middle ofthe bridge, where he wheeled his horse so as to face his coming enemies. He lowered the vizor of his helmet and bolted it to its place, and thensaw that sword and dagger were loose in the scabbard and easy to drawwhen the need for drawing should arise. 

Down the steep path from the hill above swept the pursuing horsemen. Down the steep path to the bridge-head and there drew rein; for in themiddle of the narrow way sat the motionless, steel-clad figure upon thegreat war-horse, with wide, red, panting nostrils, and body streakedwith sweat and flecked with patches of foam. 

One side of the roadway of the bridge was guarded by a low stone wall;the other side was naked and open and bare to the deep, slow-movingwater beneath. It was a dangerous place to attack a desperate man cladin armor of proof. 

"Forward!" cried Baron Henry, but not a soul stirred in answer, andstill the iron-clad figure sat motionless and erect upon the pantinghorse. 

"How, " cried the Baron Henry, "are ye afraid of one man? Then followme!" and he spurred forward to the bridge-head. But still no one movedin answer, and the Lord of Trutz-Drachen reined back his horse again. He wheeled his horse and glared round upon the stolid faces of hisfollowers, until his eyes seemed fairly to blaze with passion beneaththe bars of his vizor. 

Baron Conrad gave a roar of laughter. "How now, " he cried; "are ye allafraid of one man? Is there none among ye that dares come forward andmeet me? I know thee, Baron Henry thou art not afraid to cut off thehand of a little child. Hast thou not now the courage to face thefather?"

Baron Henry gnashed his teeth with rage as he glared around upon thefaces of his men-at-arms. Suddenly his eye lit upon one of them. "Ha!Carl Spigler, " he cried, "thou hast thy cross-bow with thee;--shoot medown yonder dog! Nay, " he said, "thou canst do him no harm under hisarmor; 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 ye uponfoot. " Thereupon, armed as he was, he leaped clashing from his horse andturning the animal's head, gave it a slap upon the flank. The good horsefirst trotted and then walked to the further end of the bridge, where itstopped and began cropping at the grass that grew beside the road. 

"Now then!" cried Baron Henry, fiercely, "now then, ye cannot fear him, villains! Down with him! forward!"

Slowly the troopers spurred their horses forward upon the bridge andtoward that one figure that, grasping tightly the great two-handedsword, stood there alone guarding the passage. 

Then Baron Conrad whirled the great blade above his head, until itcaught the sunlight and flashed again. He did not wait for the attack, but when the first of the advancing horsemen had come within a few feetof him, he leaped with a shout upon them. The fellow thrust at him withhis lance, and the Baron went staggering a few feet back, but instantlyhe recovered himself and again leaped forward. The great sword flashedin the air, whistling; it fell, and the nearest man dropped his lance, clattering, and with a loud, inarticulate cry, grasped the mane of hishorse with both hands. Again the blade whistled in the air, and thistime it was stained with red. Again it fell, and with another shrill crythe man toppled headlong beneath the horse's feet. The next instant theywere upon him, each striving to strike at the one figure, to ride himdown, or to thrust him down with their lances. There was no room now toswing the long blade, but holding the hilt in both hands, Baron Conradthrust with it as though it were a lance, stabbing at horse or man, itmattered not. Crowded upon the narrow roadway of the bridge, those whoattacked had not only to guard themselves against the dreadful strokesof that terrible sword, but to keep their wounded horses (rearing andmad with fright) from toppling bodily over with them into the waterbeneath. 

Presently the cry was raised, "Back! back!" And those nearest the Baronbegan reining in their horses. "Forward!" roared Baron Henry, from themidst of the crowd; but in spite of his command, and even the blows thathe gave, those behind were borne back by those in front, struggling andshouting, and the bridge was cleared again excepting for three figuresthat lay motionless upon the roadway, and that one who, with thebrightness of his armor dimmed and stained, leaned panting against thewall of the bridge. 

The Baron Henry raged like a madman. Gnashing his teeth together, herode back a little way; then turning and couching his lance, he suddenlyclapped spurs to his horse, and the next instant came thundering downupon his solitary enemy. 

Baron Conrad whirled his sword in the air, as he saw the other cominglike a thunderbolt upon him; he leaped aside, and the lance passed closeto him. As it passed he struck, and the iron point flew from the shaftof the spear at the blow, and fell clattering upon the stone roadway ofthe bridge. 

Baron Henry drew in his horse until it rested upon its haunches, thenslowly reined it backward down the bridge, still facing his foe, and still holding the wooden stump of the lance in his hand. At thebridge-head he flung it from him. 

"Another lance!" he cried, hoarsely. One was silently reached to himand he took it, his hand trembling with rage. Again he rode to a littledistance and wheeled his horse; then, driving his steel spurs into itsquivering side, he came again thundering down upon the other. Once morethe terrible sword whirled in the air and fell, but this time the lancewas snatched to one side and the blow fell harmlessly. The next instant, and with a twitch of the bridle-rein, the horse struck full and fairagainst the man. 

Conrad of Drachenhausen was whirled backward and downward, and the crueliron hoofs crashed over his prostrate body, as horse and man passed witha rush beyond him and to the bridge-head beyond. A shout went up fromthose who stood watching. The next moment the prostrate figure rose andstaggered blindly to the side of the bridge, and stood leaning againstthe stone wall. 

At the further end of the bridge Baron Henry had wheeled his horse. Onceagain he couched lance, and again he drove down upon his bruised andwounded enemy. This time the lance struck full and fair, and those whowatched saw the steel point pierce the iron breast-plate and then snapshort, leaving the barbed point within the wound. 

Baron Conrad sunk to his knees and the Roderburg, looming upon his horseabove him, unsheathed his sword to finish the work he had begun. 

Then those who stood looking on saw a wondrous thing happen: the woundedman rose suddenly to his feet, and before his enemy could strike heleaped, with a great and bitter cry of agony and despair, upon him as hesat in the saddle above. 

Henry of Trutz-Drachen grasped at his horse's mane, but the attackwas so fierce, so sudden, and so unexpected that before he could savehimself he was dragged to one side and fell crashing in his armor uponthe stone roadway of the bridge. 

"The dragon! the dragon!" roared Baron Conrad, in a voice of thunder, and with the energy of despair he dragged his prostrate foe toward theopen side of the bridge. 

"Forward!" cried the chief of the Trutz-Drachen men, and down they rodeupon the struggling knights to the rescue of their master in this newdanger. But they were too late. 

There was a pause at the edge of the bridge, for Baron Henry had gainedhis feet and, stunned and bewildered as he was by the suddenness of hisfall, he was now struggling fiercely, desperately. For a moment theystood swaying backward and forward, clasped in one another's arms, theblood from the wounded man's breast staining the armor of both. Themoment passed and then, with a shower of stones and mortar from beneaththeir iron-shod heels, they toppled and fell; there was a thunderoussplash in the water below, and as the men-at-arms came hurrying up andpeered with awe-struck faces over the parapet of the bridge, they sawthe whirling eddies sweep down with the current of the stream, a fewbubbles rise to the surface of the water, and then--nothing; for thesmooth river flowed onward as silently as ever. 

Presently a loud voice burst through the awed hush that followed. Itcame from William of Roderburg, Baron Henry's kinsman. 

"Forward!" he cried. A murmur of voices from the others was all theanswer that he received. "Forward!" cried the young man again, "the boyand those with him are not so far away but that we might yet catch upwith them. "

Then one of the men spoke up in answer--a man with a seamed, weather-beaten face and crisp grizzled hair. "Nay, " said he, "our LordBaron is gone, and this is no quarrel of ours; here be four of us thatare wounded and three I misdoubt that are dead; why should we followfurther only to suffer more blows for no gain?" A growl of assent rosefrom those that stood around, and William of Roderburg saw that nothingmore was to be done by the Trutz-Dragons that day. 

XIV. How Otto Saw the Great Emperor. 

Through weakness and sickness and faintness, Otto had lain in a halfswoon through all that long journey under the hot May sun. It was as ina dreadful nightmare that he had heard on and on and on that monotonousthrobbing of galloping hoofs upon the ground; had felt that last kissthat his father had given him upon his cheek. Then the onward rideagain, until all faded away into a dull mist and he knew no more. Whennext he woke it was with the pungent smell of burned vinegar in hisnostrils and with the feeling of a cool napkin bathing his brow. Heopened his eyes and then closed them again, thinking he must have beenin a dream, for he lay in his old room at the peaceful monastery of theWhite Cross on the hill; the good Father Abbot sat near by, gazing uponhis face with the old absent student look, Brother John sat in the deepwindow seat also gazing at him, and Brother Theodore, the leech of themonastery, sat beside him bathing his head. Beside these old familiarfaces 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. But thesharp throbbing of the poor stump at his wrist soon taught him that hewas still awake. 

"Am I then really home in St. Michaelsburg again?" he murmured, withoutunclosing his eyes. 

Brother Theodore began snuffling through his nose; there was a pause. "Yes, " said the old Abbot at last, and his gentle voice trembled ashe spoke; "yes, my dear little child, thou art back again in thine ownhome; thou hast not been long out in the great world, but truly thouhast had a sharp and bitter trial of it. "

"But they will not take me away again, will they?" said Otto quickly, unclosing his blue eyes. 

"Nay, " said the Abbot, gently; "not until thou art healed in body andart ready and willing to go. "

Three months and more had passed, and Otto was well again; and now, escorted by One-eyed Hans and those faithful few who had clung to theBaron Conrad through his last few bitter days, he was riding into thequaint old town of Nurnburg; for the Emperor Rudolph was there at thattime, waiting for King Ottocar of Bohemia to come thither and answerthe imperial summons before the Council, and Otto was travelling to thecourt. 

As they rode in through the gates of the town, Otto looked up at thehigh-peaked houses with their overhanging gables, the like of which hehad never seen before, and he stared with his round blue eyes at seeingthem so crowded together along the length of the street. But most ofall he wondered at the number of people that passed hither and thither, jostling each other in their hurry, and at the tradesmen's boothsopening upon the street with the wonderful wares hanging within; armorat the smiths, glittering ornaments at the goldsmiths, and rich fabricsof silks and satins at the mercers. He had never seen anything so richand grand in all of his life, for little Otto had never been in a townbefore. 

"Oh! look, " he cried, "at that wonderful lady; see, holy father! surethe Emperor's wife can be no finer than that lady. "

The Abbot smiled. "Nay, Otto, " said he, "that is but a burgher's wife ordaughter; the ladies at the Emperor's court are far grander than such asshe. "

"So!" said Otto, and then fell silent with wonder. 

And now, at last the great moment had come when little Otto with his owneyes was to behold the mighty Emperor who ruled over all the powerfulkingdoms of Germany and Austria, and Italy and Bohemia, and otherkingdoms and principalities and states. His heart beat so that he couldhardly speak as, for a moment, the good Abbot who held him by the handstopped outside of the arrased doorway to whisper some last instructionsinto his ear. Then they entered the apartment. 

It was a long, stone-paved room. The floor was covered with rich rugsand the walls were hung with woven tapestry wherein were depictedknights and ladies in leafy gardens and kings and warriors at battle. A long row of high glazed windows extended along the length of theapartment, flooding it with the mellow light of the autumn day. Atthe further end of the room, far away, and standing by a great carvedchimney place wherein smouldered the remains of a fire, stood a group ofnobles in gorgeous dress of velvet and silks, and with glittering goldenchains hung about their necks. 

One figure stood alone in front of the great yawning fireplace. Hishands were clasped behind him, and his look bent thoughtfully upon thefloor. He was dressed only in a simple gray robe without ornament oradornment, a plain leathern belt girded his waist, and from it hung asword with a bone hilt encased in a brown leathern scabbard. A noblestag-hound lay close behind him, curled up upon the floor, basking inthe grateful warmth of the fire. 

As the Father Abbot and Otto drew near he raised his head and lookedat them. It was a plain, homely face that Otto saw, with a wrinkledforehead and a long mouth drawn down at the corners. It was the face ofa good, honest burgher burdened with the cares of a prosperous trade. "Who can he be, " thought Otto, "and why does the poor man stand thereamong all the great nobles?"

But the Abbot walked straight up to him and kneeled upon the floor, and little Otto, full of wonder, did the same. It was the great EmperorRudolph. 

"Who have we here, " said the Emperor, and he bent his brow upon theAbbot and the boy. 

"Sire, " said Abbot Otto, "we have humbly besought you by petition, inthe name of your late vassal, Baron Conrad of Vuelph of Drachenhausen, for justice to this his son, the Baron Otto, whom, sire, as you may see, hath been cruelly mutilated at the hands of Baron Henry of Roderburg ofTrutz-Drachen. He hath moreover been despoiled of his lands, his castleburnt, and his household made prisoner. "

The Emperor frowned until the shaggy eyebrows nearly hid the keen graytwinkle of the eyes beneath. "Yes, " said he, "I do remember me ofthat petition, and have given it consideration both in private and incouncil. " He turned to the group of listening nobles. "Look, " said he, "at this little child marred by the inhumanity and the cruelty of thoserobber villains. By heavens! I will put down their lawless rapine, if Ihave to give every castle from the north to the south to the flames andto the sword. " Then turning to Otto again, "Poor little child, " said he, "thy wrongs shall be righted, and so far as they are able, those cruelRoderburgs shall pay thee penny for penny, and grain for grain, for whatthou hast lost; and until such indemnity hath been paid the family ofthe man who wrought this deed shall be held as surety. "

Little Otto looked up in the kind, rugged face above him. "Nay, LordEmperor, " said he, in his quaint, quiet way, "there are but two in thefamily--the mother and the daughter--and I have promised to marry thelittle girl when she and I are old enough; so, if you please, I wouldnot have harm happen to her. "

The Emperor continued to look down at the kneeling boy, and at last hegave a short, dry laugh. "So be it, " said he, "thy plan is not withoutits wisdom. Mayhap it is all for the best that the affair should beended thus peacefully. The estates of the Roderburgs shall be held intrust for thee until thou art come of age; otherwise it shall be as thouhast proposed, the little maiden shall be taken into ward under our owncare. And as to thee--art thou willing that I should take thee under myown charge in the room of thy father, who is dead?"

"Aye, " said Otto, simply, "I am willing, for it seems to me that thouart a good man. "

The nobles who stood near smiled at the boy's speech. As for theEmperor, he laughed outright. "I give thee thanks, my Lord Baron, " saidhe; "there is no one in all my court who has paid me greater courtesythan that. "

So comes the end of our tale. 

But perhaps you may like to know what happened afterward, for no onecares 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'scourt, and was with him through war and peace. 

But he himself never drew sword or struck a blow, for the right handthat hung at his side was of pure silver, and the hard, cold fingersnever closed. Folks called him "Otto of the Silver Hand, " but perhapsthere 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 onthe hill had taught him, clung to him through all the honors that theEmperor bestowed upon his favorite, and as he grew older his words werelistened to and weighed by those who were high in Council, and even bythe Emperor himself. 

And now for the end of all. 

One day Otto stood uncertainly at the doorway of a room in the imperialcastle, hesitating before he entered; and yet there was nothing so verydreadful within, only one poor girl whose heart fluttered more than his. Poor little Pauline, whom he had not seen since that last day in theblack cell at Trutz-Drachen. 

At last he pushed aside the hangings and entered the room. 

She was sitting upon a rude bench beside the window, looking at him outof her great, dark eyes. 

He stopped short and stood for a moment confused and silent; for he hadno thought in his mind but of the little girl whom he had last seen, andfor 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 thatshe could do was to gaze with her great, dark eyes upon the hero of whomshe had heard so many talk; the favorite of the Emperor; the wise youngOtto of the Silver Hand. 

Afterword

The ruins of Drachenhausen were rebuilt, for the walls were as sound asever, though empty and gaping to the sky; but it was no longer the denof a robber baron for beneath the scutcheon over the great gate wascarved a new motto of the Vuelphs; a motto which the Emperor Rudolphhimself had given:

"Manus argentea quam manus ferrea melior est. "