by G. A. Henty
“Marauders killed in the commission of crime, and their bodies hung by order of the king, as a lesson to anyone who ventures to break the law against plundering.”
Then he rode on his way, and did not return until one o’clock. The marshal was occupied. He therefore simply handed in the reply to the despatch that he had carried, and immediately retired.
“Is Mr. Drummond up?” he asked one of the attendants.
“He is still in his room, sir. His servant is with him, and he is taking food.”
He went straight to the room. Fergus was sitting up in a chair, eating a basin of strong chicken broth.
“This is a nice hour to be breakfasting, Lindsay,” he said with a smile. “I feel quite ashamed of myself, I can tell you; but I am under orders. The doctor came here half an hour ago. I had just woke and got out of bed, and was going to dress, when he told me that I was not to do so. I might sit up to take breakfast, but was to keep perfectly quiet for the rest of the day. He said I only needed feeding up, that he would send me some strong broth, and three hours later I was to have some soup and a pint of Burgundy; and that if I obeyed his instructions, and ate and drank well, I should be able to leave my room tomorrow; though of course, I should not be fit for active service till my arm began to heal.”
“But what is it all about, Drummond? I was sent off to Brunswick’s camp, as soon as I got up, and have heard nothing about it; and the marshal forbade me to speak to you, when you were brought in last night. He merely said that you had done a very gallant action.”
“There was nothing very gallant in it, Lindsay; but it turned out very fortunate.”
Then he gave a very brief account of the previous evening’s events.
“Well I should call that a gallant action, Drummond, if you don’t. It is no joke for one man to tackle six, and those not ordinary marauders but Pomeranian soldiers. Of course, it was somewhat lucky that you had rid yourself of three of them, before the other three entered the room; and had it not been, as you say, for that girl, things might have turned out differently. Still, that does not affect the matter. It was a gallant business.
“What happened when you came in?”
“I don’t know much about what happened. At first I made some sort of report to the marshal, and then I believe I fainted. When I came to, I found that they had bandaged up my shoulder, and poured some wine down my throat. I felt very shaky at first, but I know that I drank some wine, and was then able to give some sort of account of what had happened. The king was there, then, and asked me questions; but whether or not he was there, at first, I cannot say. I have a vague idea that he told the marshal, too, that he promoted me; but I am not quite sure about that, nor do I know how I got here.”
“Well, if you are not mistaken about your step, I congratulate you most heartily. It is seldom, indeed, that anyone gains one in six weeks after his first appointment. I thought myself lucky, indeed, in getting it after serving only two years and a half; but I got it simply on nomination as one of the marshal’s aides-de-camp. It is customary to get promotion, on such appointment, if there has been two or three years’ previous service.
“Well, you have drawn the first blood in this campaign, Drummond; and have not been long in giving very striking proof that your month’s hard work in the fencing school has not been thrown away.”
The conversation was broken off by the entry of the marshal, himself.
“Pooh, pooh, Fergus!” he said, as the latter rose, “there is no occasion for saluting in a bedroom. I am glad to see you looking so much better. You could not have looked more ghastly, when you came in yesterday evening, if you had been your own wraith.
“There, lad,” he said, handing him a parchment. “It is not usual to have a new commission on promotion, but the king told me that he had had it done, in the present case, in order that you might have a record of the exploit for which you have been promoted. You will see it is set down inside that, although but six weeks in service, you were promoted to the rank of lieutenant for a deed of extraordinary gallantry. You had attacked and killed, with your own hand, six marauding soldiers; who had entered the chateau of Count Eulenfurst, well-nigh murdered the count, killed six of his servants, and were occupied in plundering the house. In token of his thankfulness, that the life of so distinguished and enlightened a nobleman had been saved by you; as well as of approbation for the gallantry of your conduct, his majesty promoted you to the rank of lieutenant.
“You should keep that paper, Fergus, and pass it down to your descendants, as an heirloom. I congratulate you, my boy, with all my heart; and feel some satisfaction on my own account, for such an action as this shows those who are inclined to grumble, at what they may consider the favour shown to Scotchmen, that at any rate the favour is not misplaced. A general order to the army has been issued this morning saying that, some scoundrels, having disgraced their uniform and brought discredit upon the army, by a murderous and wicked attack upon the house of Count Eulenfurst, the king reiterates and confirms his previous order that any man caught when engaged in pillaging, or upon whose person any stolen goods are found, will be summarily hung by the provost marshal, or by any general officer before whom he may be brought.
“The king himself has ridden to the count’s chateau, this morning, to make personal inquiries into his state, and to express his deep regret at the outrage that has taken place. It is a politic action, as well as a kind one. Of course, the event has occasioned great excitement in the city.”
“And may I ask how the count is going on, sir?”
“The last report of the surgeons is a favourable one. He has partly recovered consciousness, and at any rate recognizes his daughter, who has divided her time between his bedside and her mother’s. The latter has fallen into a deep sleep of exhaustion; but will, I doubt not, recover. The girl came down into the hall when the king called. She bore herself well, they tell me, and would have retained her composure, had it not been for the king himself. She came down the grand staircase, with four of her maids behind her—for a notice had been sent, half an hour before of his coming—prepared, no doubt, to meet a stiff and haughty king; but though Frederick can be every inch a king, when he chooses, there is, as you know, no kinder-hearted man alive.
“He went forward bare-headed to meet her and, as she stopped and curtsied low, he took her two hands and said:
“‘My poor child, I am sorry, more sorry than I can tell you, for what has happened; and hope with all my heart that your father, whom all respect and honour, will not be taken from you. No doubt you look upon me as an enemy; but although compelled to come here, because your king is leagued with those who intend to destroy me and my country, I bear no ill will to the people; and have given the strictest orders that my soldiers shall, in all respects, treat them as firm friends. But unfortunately, there are scoundrels everywhere. These men have been punished as they deserved, and the whole army will join with me in deep regret at what has happened, and in the fervent hope that your father’s life will be spared. I grieve, too, to hear that the countess, your mother, has suffered so greatly from the shock; and hope soon to be able to express to her, in person, the regret I feel for what has taken place.’
“The kindness of his tone, in saying all this, broke her down more than the words of the king. He saw that she was unable to speak.
“‘There, there, child,’ he said. ‘I know what you are feeling, and that you are longing to go upstairs again, so I will say goodbye. Keep up a brave heart. The surgeons have every hope that your father will recover. And believe that you will always have a friend in Frederick of Prussia.’
“He kissed her on the cheek, and then turned and left the hall, followed by his staff.”
Three days later the doctors were able to say confidently that, unless some change occurred for the worse, they believed the count would recover. On the fourth day, Fergus was sufficiently well to mount his horse. The countess and her daughter had repeatedly asked after him, and express
ed their desire that he would come over, as soon as he was well enough to do so.
One of the aides-de-camp had gone over, twice a day, to inquire as to the progress the count was making. A guard had been placed at the gate, and an officer stationed there to receive the names of the stream of visitors from the city, and to inform them that the count was making satisfactory progress. By the doctor’s orders, even the count’s most intimate friends were refused admission, as absolute quiet was needed.
Fergus dismounted at the gate, and walked up to the house. The maid who opened the door recognized him at once.
“Will you come in, sir?” she said, with a beaming face. “I will tell the young countess you are here; and she will, I am sure, see you.”
A minute later, the girl ran down the stairs. As she came forward she stopped, with sudden shyness. Absorbed in her anxiety for her father and mother, she had taken but little heed of the appearance of the officer who had saved them. That he was kind as well as brave she was sure for, although he had scarce spoken to her, the gentleness with which he had moved her father and her mother from the bloodstained room, and the promptness and decision with which he had given his orders, had inspired her with absolute confidence in him. She had a vague idea that he was young, but his face, flecked here and there with blood, had left but a faint impression upon her memory; and when she saw the young officer, in his spotless and imposing uniform, she almost felt that there must be some mistake.
“Are you Lieutenant Drummond, sir?” she asked timidly.
“I am, countess.”
“Was it really you who saved us, the other night?”
“I had that good fortune,” he said with a smile.
She took the hand he held out, wonderingly, and then suddenly burst into tears.
“Oh, sir,” she said, “is it possible that you, who look so young, can be the one who came to our assistance, and killed those six evil men? It seems impossible.
“I have been so unhappy, since. I did not know that you were wounded until the maids told me, afterwards. I had never even asked. I let you go, without one word of thanks for all that you have done for us. What must you have thought of me?”
“I thought that you were a very courageous girl,” Fergus said earnestly; “and that, after what you had gone through, the sight of your father as you believed dying, and your mother in such a state, you were wonderfully calm and composed. It would have been strange, indeed, had you thought of anything else at such a time.”
“You are very good to say so, sir; but when I heard, from the surgeons you sent, that you had fainted from loss of blood after delivering your message, I felt that I should never forgive myself. You had thought so much of us, and not of yourself. You had gone about seeing to our comfort, and giving orders and arranging everything, and all the time you yourself needed aid.”
“The wound was a mere trifle,” he said, “and I scarce gave it a thought, myself, until I began to feel faint from loss of blood. I can assure you that the thought that you were ungrateful has never once entered my head.”
“And now, will you please come up to see my mother, sir. She will be most anxiously expecting you.”
They went upstairs together and, turning to the right on the top of the stairs, entered a pretty apartment that was evidently the countess’s boudoir.
“This is our preserver, mother,” the girl said, as she entered.
The countess, who was advancing towards the door, stopped in surprise. She had been able, from her daughter, to gain no idea of the age of their rescuer; but the maids had all asserted that he was quite young. As he was, for so the surgeons had told her, one of Marshal Keith’s aides-de-camp, she had pictured to herself a fierce soldier; and the sight of this youth, with his smooth pleasant face, surprised her, indeed.
“Yes, mother, it is himself,” the girl said. “I was as surprised as you are.”
“I have no words to thank you, sir, for the most inestimable service which you have rendered us,” the countess said warmly, as she held out her hand. “Assuredly my husband would have died, had aid been delayed but a few minutes. As to my daughter and myself, they would probably have killed us, to prevent our ever recognizing or giving evidence against them. They only spared our lives, for a time, in order to learn where our jewels were kept. This was but a comparative trifle, though the jewels are precious, and there are none more valuable in Saxony. I have no doubt that after stripping the house of its valuables they would have buried them, intending some day to recover them; and would then have fired the house, in order to conceal all evidence of the crime that had been committed. It seemed to me wonderful, before, that one man should, single handed, have attacked and slain them; but now that I see you, it seems almost a miracle that you performed in our favour.”
“It was no great feat, madam. I have the good fortune to be a fair swordsman; and soldiers, although they may know their military drill, have little chance with one who can use his weapon well. Then, too, I had fortunately but three to deal with at a time; and even then, I should not have come off victorious had it not been for the courage of the maid, who ran boldly in, sprang on the back of one, and threw him to the ground, while he was waiting to get a steady aim at me with his pistol. I assuredly owe my life to her.”
“The King of Prussia left twenty gold crowns for her, when he was here, saying that it was payment for saving the life of one of his officers; and you may be sure that we shall not be ungrateful to her. Your death would have involved that of my husband, and us. The king also ordered that inquiry should be made as to whether our men who were killed had families dependent upon them; and that if so, pensions were to be given to these, as their loss had been occasioned by the evil deeds of some of his soldiers. It was very thoughtful and kind, and my daughter seems quite to have fallen in love with him.
“I hope that in a few days my husband will be able to see you. He does not know that you are here. If he did, I am sure that he would wish to see you now; but the surgeons have insisted so strongly on absolute quiet, that I dare not let him hear of your coming.”
“I am delighted to learn that he is going on so well, madame. I sincerely trust that he will not long remain an invalid.”
“I suppose you would not have recognized me?” the countess asked.
“I should not, indeed. Of course, I could do nothing to aid you, and was chiefly occupied by the count. But indeed, you were then so pale that I might well be excused for not knowing you again.”
The countess was a very handsome woman, of some seven or eight and thirty, with a noble figure and a gracious air; and bore no resemblance to the almost distraught woman, with her hair falling over her face, whom he had seen before.
“I am not a coward, Mr. Drummond,” she said, “and when those villains first ran in and attacked my husband, I struggled desperately with the two who seized me; until I saw him drop, as I believed, dead. Then my strength suddenly left me, and I should have fallen to the ground, had the men not thrown me back into the chair. I have a vague recollection of seeing Thirza, who had retired for the night but a minute or two previously, carried in bound and gagged. They asked me several questions, but I could not reply; and I think they learned from the frightened servants where the family jewels were kept. The clashing of swords and the firing of pistols roused me a little, and after it was all over, and I heard you say that my husband was still living, my heart gave one bound, and I knew nothing more of what happened until next day.”
After chatting for a short time longer Fergus took his leave, well pleased to have got through a visit he had somewhat dreaded.
The king remained for nearly a month at Dresden, engaged in carrying on negotiations with the Elector. By this delay he lost most of the advantages that his sudden movement had given him; but he was most anxious to detach Saxony and Poland from the confederacy against him, as he would then be able to turn his attention wholly to Austria, aided by the Saxons, while the Poles would aid his army in the east to keep t
he Russians in check. The Elector of Saxony—who was also King of Poland—however, was only negotiating in order to give time for Austria to gather an army in Bohemia; and so to relieve the Saxons, who were watched by the eastern column, which had crossed the defiles into Bohemia and taken post near Koeniggraetz; while that of Prince Maurice of Brunswick pushed forward farther, to threaten their line of retreat from the west.
The king at last became convinced that the King of Poland was but trifling with him, and in the last week of September started to take the command of the centre, which was facing the entrance to the defile, at Pirna. Marshal Keith had been sent, a week after Fergus was wounded, to assume the command of the western column, hitherto commanded by Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick.
Fergus remained behind for ten days, at the end of which time he felt perfectly fit for service again. He still carried his arm in a sling, but a generous diet and good wine had filled his veins again, and upon the day the king left he rode with Karl to rejoin the marshal.
He had been several times over to the chateau, and had on the last occasion seen the count; who, although still terribly weak, was now out of danger, and able to sit on a couch, propped up by pillows. His thanks were as earnest as those of the countess had been and, having heard that Fergus was to start on the following morning to join the army on the frontier, he said to him:
“There is no saying how far your king may carry his arms, nor where you may find yourself. The countess will, therefore, write letters addressed to intimate friends at various large towns; telling them that you have placed us under a vast obligation, and praying them to do, for our sake, all in their power for you, under whatever circumstances you may arrive there. She will write them on small pieces of paper, each with its name and address on the back, so that they will make a small and compact packet, not much bigger than an ordinary letter.