The fellow led the way up a flight of outside steps which gave access to the upper granary floor; and my lady followed, rejecting the Waldgrave"s hand and gazing with an unmoved eye at the unfenced edge on her left; for the stairs had no rail. At the top the groom opened the door and squeezed himself aside, and my lady entered. The Waldgrave had given place to Fraulein Anna--whom desire to see what would happen had blinded to the risks of the stairs--and she was not slow to follow. The young lord and I pressed in a pace behind.
"This is not a fit place for a maiden!" I heard my lady say severely; and then she stopped. That was before I could see inside, the sudden pause coming as I entered. The loft was dark, the unglazed windows being shuttered; but my eyes are good, and I knew the place, and saw at once--what my lady had seen, I think, at a second glance only--that the man beside whom the girl was kneeling--or had been kneeling, for as I entered she rose to her feet with a word of alarm--was bandaged from his chin to his crown, was helpless and maundering, talking strange nonsense, and rolling his head restlessly from side to side.
"Why, you are a child!" my lady said; and this time her voice was soft and low and full of surprise. "Who is this?" she continued, pointing to the man; who never ceased to babble and move.
"It is Steve, my lady," I said. "He was hurt below, in the town, and the girl has been nursing him. I suppose she--I think no one told her to go elsewhere," I added by way of apology for her.
"Where could she be better?" my lady said in a low voice. "Child," she continued gently," come here. Do not be afraid."
The girl had shrunk back at the sound of my lady"s first words, or at sight of so large a company, and had taken her stand on the farther side of Steve, where she crouched trembling and looking at us with a terrified face. Hearing herself summoned, she came slowly and timidly forward, the little boy who had run to her holding her hand, and hiding his face in her skirts.
"I am the countess," my lady said, looking at her closely, but with kindness, "and I have come to see how you fare."
It was a hard moment for the girl, but she did the very best thing she could have done, and one that commended her to my lady"s heart for ever. For, bursting into tears--I doubt not the sound of a woman"s voice speaking mildly to her touched her heart--she dropped on her knees before the countess and kissed her hand, sobbing piteous words of thankfulness and appeal.
"Chut! chut!" my lady said, a little tremor in her own voice. "You are safe now. Be comforted. You shall be protected here, whatever betide.
But you have lost your father? Yes, I remember, child. Well, it is over now. You are quite safe. See, this gentleman shall be your champion. And Martin there. He is a match for any two. Tell me your name."
"Marie--Marie Wort." The girl answered suppressing her tears with an effort.
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen, please your excellency."
"And where were you born, Marie?"
"At Munich, in Bavaria."
"You are a Romanist, I hear?"
"If it please your excellency."
"It does not please me at all," my lady answered promptly; but she said it with so much mildness that Marie"s eyes filled again. "I warn you, we shall, try to convert you--by kindness. So you are nursing this poor fellow?" And my lady went up to Steve, and touched his hand and spoke to him. But he did not know her, and she stepped back, looking grave.
"The fever is on him now," Marie said timidly. "He is at his worst; but he will be better by-and-by, if your excellency pleases."
"He is fortunate in his nurse," my lady answered, gazing searchingly at the other"s pale face. "Will you stay with him, child, or would you rather come into the house, where my women could take care of you, and you would be more comfortable?"
A look of distress flickered in the girl"s eyes. She hesitated and looked down, colouring painfully. I dare say that with feminine tact she knew that my lady even now thought it scarcely proper for her to be there--in a house where only the men about the stable lived. But she found her answer.
"He was hurt trying to protect me," she murmured, in a low voice.
My lady nodded. "Very well," she said; and I saw that she was not displeased. "You shall stay with him. I will see that you are taken care of. Come, Rupert, I think we have seen enough."
She signed to us to go before her, and we all went out, and she closed the door. At the head of the steps, when the Waldgrave offered her his hand, she waved it away, and stood.
"Bring me a hammer and a nail," she cried.
Three or four men, nearly half our garrison, had collected below, hearing where we were. One of these ran and fetched what she called for; while we all waited and wondered what she meant. I took the hammer and nail from the man and went up again with them.
[Ill.u.s.tration: ... with her own hands she drove the nail.... Then she turned ...]
"Give me my glove," she said, turning abruptly to the Waldgrave.
He had possessed himself of one in the course of the conversation I have partly detailed; and no doubt he did not give it up very willingly. But there was no refusing her under the circ.u.mstances.
"Hold it against the door!" she said.
He obeyed, and with her own hands she drove the nail through the glove, pinning it to the middle of the door. Then she turned with a little colour in her face.
"That is my room!" she said, with a ring of menace in her tone. "Let no one presume to enter it. And have a care, men! Whatever is wanted inside, place at the threshold and begone."
Then she came down, followed by the Waldgrave, and walked through the middle of us and went back to the terrace, with Fraulein Anna at her heels. The Waldgrave lingered a moment to look at a sick horse, and I to give an order. When we reached the terrace court a few minutes later, we found my lady walking up and down alone in the sunshine.
"Why, where is the learned Anna?" the Waldgrave said.
"She is gone to amuse herself," my lady answered, laughing. "Voetius is put aside for the moment in favour of Master Dietz!"
"No?" the young lord exclaimed, in a tone of surprise. "That yellow-faced atomy? She is not in love with him?"
"No, sir, certainly not."
"Then what is it?"
"Well, I think she is a little jealous," my lady answered with a smile. "We have been so long colloguing with a papist, Anna thinks some amends are due to the Church. And she is gone to make them. At any rate, she asked me a few minutes ago if she might pay a visit to Dietz. "For what purpose?" I said. "To discuss a point with him," she answered. So I told her to go, if she liked, and by this time I don"t doubt that they are hard at it."
"Over Voetius?"
"No, sir," my lady answered gaily. "Beza more probably, or Calvin. You know little of either, I expect. I do not wonder that Anna is driven to seek more improving company."
CHAPTER VIII.
A CATASTROPHE.
All that day the town remained quiet, and all day the Waldgrave and my lady walked to and fro in the sunshine; or my lady sat working on one of the stone seats, while he built castles in the air, which she knocked down with a sly word or a merry glance. Fraulein Anna, always with the big book, flitted from door to door, like an unquiet spirit.
The sentries dozed at their posts, old Jacob in his chair in the guard-room, the cannons under their breech-clouts. If this could be said to be a state of siege, it was the most gentle and joyous one paladin ever shared or mistress imagined.
But no message reached us from the town, and that disturbed me. Half a dozen times I went to the wall and, leaning over it, listened. Each time I came away satisfied. All seemed quiet; the market-place rather fuller perhaps than on common days, the hum of life more steady and persistent; but neither to any great extent. Despite this I could not shake off a feeling of uneasiness. I remembered certain faces I had seen in the town, grim faces lurking in corners, seen over men"s shoulders or through half-open doors; and a dog barking startled me, the shadow of a crow flying over the court made me jump a yard.
Night only added to my nervousness. I doubled all the guards, stationing two men at the town-wicket and two at the stable-gate, which leads to the bridge. And not content with these precautions, though the Waldgrave laughed at them and me, I got out of bed three times in the night, and went the round to a.s.sure myself that the men were at their posts.
When morning came without mishap, but also without bringing any overture from the town, the Waldgrave laughed still more loudly.