The Mercenary Part 48

The carriage stopped. Nigel sprang out. It was of no use, the postboy said. One horse had gone lame. He could kill the horse by thras.h.i.+ng him, but to get to Ratisbon with the carriage was impossible in the time. He had done his best. Neither Blick nor his troopers nor his groom had come up. Nigel went from one poor house and inn to another in search of one or two fresh horses. Not a horse was to be found.

"No one had a horse if not Farmer Grabstein, the last house in the village."

Postboy and coachman led the stumbling horses along to the house of Farmer Grabstein. No one was about. Nigel knocked at the door and it yielded. There was a fire upon the hearth. There was food of a rough sort upon the table. There were even candles hanging from a beam. He lit one at the embers and stuck it in a candlestick. Then he went back to the carriage and bade Stephanie alight.

She came into the farmhouse and sat down on a bench in the fireplace to warm herself while Nigel made a search. Downstairs there was no one.

Upstairs (it was a rough wooden stair, steep as a ladder) were garrets under the thatch. Rolled up in undistinguishable bundles appeared to be some human beings. The air was fetid with their breath and their personal exhalations. Was it worth while to wake them? At all events the Archd.u.c.h.ess could not go up that stair.

Then he bade the men put their horses in the stable and sleep there beside them. It would at least be warm.

"Stephanie! My beloved! There is no help for it but wait here till Blick comes up. Then he must get into Ratisbon and bring out horses by hook or by crook! The night is yet young. Our plans have gone dismally awry. Yet I would not have it different if it were not for the tongue of rumour that will even now be busy in Ratisbon!"

She knew well what he meant. The honour of the Emperor's daughter would be besmirched, despite anything that might be said or done or attested: and were it but one day's stain, that stain should not lie between her and the husband she had chosen.

"Show me the place!" she said with a touch of her old hauteur. Nigel took the candle and preceded her. There was yet another room on this floor, an apartment hung with leather, and having a good chest or two of carved work, an oaken table and some chairs: the farmer's state-room, doubtless used on high occasions.

"Here will I abide! Go you, Tall Captain, and fetch me some old dame from the village, so she be clean and not smelling of the cow-byre more than ordinary, and bid her bring a blanket or two."

Nigel went off into the dark again. But she without loss of a moment examined the room and found a door which led into an outermost room, where guns, boots, powder-flasks, and other utensils of the chase hung, and beyond was a great door bolted and barred. This she undid, though it taxed her strength, and found that it opened on to the stable-yard. That she crossed and entered the stable, roused one of the men and bade him rub down the soundest of the horses, feed and water it, and then strap on a saddle she had found in the gun-room, in one hour's time. He would be awakened if necessary. She would ride to Ratisbon. Neither his mate nor any one else was to know. The present of a gold crown made him promise mountains and marvels. She returned to their kitchen and awaited Nigel by the fire.

CHAPTER XLI.

A LATE ARRIVAL AT NICHOLAS KRAFT'S.

In one of the old burgher palaces of Ratisbon, then the dwelling of Nicholas Kraft, whose guest he was, the Elector Maximilian held a reception after supper each evening in the manner of the French monarch.

At these the ladies and gentlemen of his own household, Ferdinand the Archduke and his sister the Archd.u.c.h.ess, with their suite, were expected to attend, together with some of the great burghers and their wives, who, whether they possessed patents of n.o.bility or not, were in point of wealth and culture n.o.ble, and had the right of entry. The ruling cla.s.ses of the great free cities had long been accustomed to exchange courtesies on something like equal terms with the princes and n.o.bles who happened to be within their gates, but not to exhibit any undue servility in their regard. Maximilian fully understood this. In Munich, his capital city, there would be differences, but Ratisbon was Ratisbon. Ferdinand the Archduke held himself much aloof. As the son of the Emperor, and possibly his successor, if the Electors should again choose a Habsburg, he possessed much of the Habsburg pride of demeanour and tendency to self-isolation.

The guests had not all a.s.sembled. Maximilian himself, though talking affably with the princ.i.p.al burghers, the few officers present, or some of the ladies, looked gloomy. Indeed he had much to occupy his mind. The latest advices from Ingolstadt told that the fortress town still held out stoutly, and was still closely beset by Gustavus. Of movement towards Ratisbon there were rumours enough, but Maximilian was being well served with information, and these rumours did not trouble him so much as they did the burghers. As in all the great free cities, there was a party favouring Gustavus, another favouring the Emperor, a third whose one desire was to maintain an exact neutrality. All wished the war was at an end, because it interfered wofully with trade.

"I had thought to have seen the Archd.u.c.h.ess here to-night!" said Maximilian to the brother of the absent lady.

"In truth," said Ferdinand, "I cannot tell. She is accustomed to follow her whims. I learned that she went out riding to-day. It may be that she is late in returning, and is even now at supper."

Maximilian smiled sombrely and made some polite and meaningless reply, but his manner suggested that he was not at his ease.

"At what hour, Burgomaster, do you close the city gates?" Maximilian asked of his next fellow-guest.

"At eight, your Highness!"

"And the keys?"

"Are brought to my house, your Highness!"

"Ah! Very salutary! You have all things well-ordered in Ratisbon."

"Your Highness is good enough to commend us. Nevertheless, there are many things that may well be improved."

An hour slipped by. Some of the party played _truc_, some _scat_. In a corner some musicians discoursed on viols and lutes and a clavier. The Archduke grew impatient and sent a page to the lodging of the Archd.u.c.h.ess, bidding her attendance. An answer came back that she was indisposed, but that, if the Elector wished to see her particularly, she would endeavour to throw off her migraine and come.

The Archduke sent a still more peremptory message. Maximilian looked still more sombre.

This time he stopped to speak to an officer who had just come in. They stood apart.

"The gates are shut?" was Maximilian's inquiry.

"Yes, your Highness!"

"Has the Archd.u.c.h.ess in fact returned?"

"No, your Highness!"

"Have you had any message?"

"Her coach broke down at Obertraubling, three leagues from Ratisbon! She is spending the night at a farmhouse!"

"Alone?" There was a perceptible quiver in his voice.

"The Scottish officer, General Charteris, is with her!"

"Ah! He has recovered from his wounds?"

"I should have thought not! I have been doing my best, your Highness.

Two days ago he was too weak to mount a horse. But the eyes of an Archd.u.c.h.ess, your Highness, are a very potent salve!"

Again the Elector frowned.

"Can you make anything of this escapade?"

The Jesuit returned the look in the Elector's eyes. Each seemed to search the other's.

"Whatever it was meant to be it has been frustrated, and your Highness will find her submissive enough to-morrow."

"But if she has given herself...."

"Your Highness need not fear. She has but walked into one mouse-trap and the Scot into another."

Maximilian simply grumbled a dissatisfied "H'm!" His knowledge of the Jesuits and their deep schemes was tempered by an insatiable jealousy where the Archd.u.c.h.ess was concerned, and a knowledge of the wiles of women, which he deemed must be superior to that of any Jesuit but one, that one being Father Lamormain.

"It is time to apprise the Archduke Ferdinand that he is being fooled by her women." Then he left the Jesuit abruptly and crossed over to Ferdinand.

"Our dear Stephanie will not, I fear, be here to-night!"

"Why not, cousin?" was Ferdinand's somewhat petulant query. He was not at all gratified at having come to Ratisbon, only to find that Maximilian was once again defeated. He would almost have preferred him to have taken up the position of the neutral. He was angry with the Archd.u.c.h.ess for her persistent opposition to his father's wish for the match with Maximilian: annoyed with Maximilian for his continual fidgeting about her absence, to which Ferdinand attached no importance.

"Because she is not in Ratisbon!"