My Lady Rotha - Part 15
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Part 15

'Of Weimar?' the general said, bowing.

'Of Weimar, sir,' the young lord answered.

The stranger said no more, but saluting him with a kind of careless punctilio, took hold of my lady's rein and led her horse forward into the firelight.

While he a.s.sisted her to dismount I had time to glance round; and the cheerful glow of the fire, which disclosed arms and accoutrements and camp equipments flung here and there in splendid profusion, did not blind me to other appearances less pleasant. Indeed, that very profusion did something to open my eyes to those appearances, and thereby to the nature of the men amongst whom we had come. The glittering hilts and battered plate, the gaudy cloaks and velvet housings which I saw lying about the roots of the trees, seemed to smack less of a travellers' camp than a robbers' bivouac; while the fierce, swarthy faces which cl.u.s.tered round the farther fire, reminded me of nothing so much as of the swash-buckling escort which had more than once accompanied Count Tilly to Heritzburg. Then, indeed, under the old tiger's paw Tilly's riders had been as lambs. But we were not now at Heritzburg, nor was Count Tilly here. And whether these knaves would be as amenable in the greenwood, whether the Waldgrave had not done us all an ill service when he voted for moving on, were questions I had a difficulty in answering to my satisfaction; the more as, even before we were off our horses, the rude stare the men fixed on my lady raised my choler.

On the other hand their leader's bearing left nothing to be desired.

He welcomed my mistress to the camp with perfect good breeding, the Waldgrave with civility. He hastened the preparation of supper, and in every way seemed bent on making us comfortable; sending his knaves to and fro with a hearty good-will, which showed that whoever stood in awe of them, he did not.

Meanwhile, I had a third fire kindled a score of paces away, where a small thicket held out the hope of privacy, and here I placed our women, bidding three or four of the steadier men remain with them. The injunction was scarcely needed however. Our servants were simple fellows born in Heritzburg. They eyed with shyness and awe the swaggering airs and warlike demeanour of Tzerclas' followers, and would not for a year's wages have intruded on their circle without invitation.

The moment I had seen to this I returned to my lady, and then for the first time I had an opportunity of examining our host. A man of middle height, sinewy and well-formed, with an upright carriage, he looked from head to foot the model of a soldier of fortune, and moved with a careless grace, which spoke of years of manly exercise. His face was handsome, cold, dark, stern; the nose prominent, the forehead high and narrow. Trimly pointed moustachios and a small pointed beard, both perfectly black, gave him a peculiar and somewhat cynical aspect; and nothing I ever witnessed of his dealings with his troops led me to suppose that this belied the man. He could be, as he was now, courteous, polished, almost genial. I judged that he could be also the reverse. He was richly, even splendidly, dressed, and seemed to be about forty years of age.

My lady sent me for Fraulein Max, who had been overlooked, and was found cowering beside the newly kindled fire in company with Marie Wort and the women. Though I think she had only herself to thank for her effacement, she was inclined to be offended. But I had no time to waste on words, and disregarding her ill temper I brought her, feebly sniffing, to my lady, who introduced her to her new-found kinsman.

'Pardon me,' he said, looking negligently round him. 'That reminds me.

I, too, have a presentation to make. Where is--oh yes, here is friend Von Werder. I thought, my friend,' he continued, addressing the other and older man whom we had seen by his fire, 'that you had disappeared as mysteriously as you came. Herr von Werder, Countess, was my first chance guest to-night. You are the second.'

He spoke in a tone of easy patronage, with his back half turned to the person he mentioned. I looked at the man. He seemed to be over fifty years old, tall, strong, and grey-moustachioed. And that was almost all I could see, for, as if acknowledging an inferiority, and admitting that the terms on which he had been with his host were now altered, he had withdrawn himself a pace from the fire. Sitting on the opposite side of it near the outer edge of light and wearing a heavy cloak, he disclosed little of his appearance, even when he rose in acknowledgment of my lady's salute.

'Herr von Werder is not travelling with you, then?' my lady said; chiefly, I think, for the sake of saying something that should include the man.

'No, he is not of my persuasion,' the general answered in the same tone of good-natured contempt. 'Whither are you bound, my friend?' he continued, glancing over his shoulder and throwing a note of command into his voice. 'I did not ask you, and you did not tell me.'

'I am going north,' the stranger answered in a husky tone. 'It may be as far as Magdeburg, general.'

'And you come from?'

'Last, sir? Frankfort.'

'Well, as you say last, whence before that?'

'The Rhine Bishoprics.'

'Ah! Then you have seen something of the war? If you were there before it swept into Bavaria, that is. But a truce to this,' he continued.

'Here is supper. I beg you not to judge of my hospitality by this night's performance, Countess. I hope to entertain you more fittingly before we part.'

Though he made this apology, the supper needed none. Indeed, it was such as made me stare--there in the forest--and was served in a style and with accompaniments I little expected to find in a soldiers' camp.

Silver dishes and chased and curious flagons, flasks of old Rhenish and Burgundy, gla.s.s from Nuremberg, a dozen things which made my lady's road equipage seem poor and trifling, appeared on the board.

And the cooking was equal to the serving. The wine had not gone round many times before the Waldgrave lost his air of reserve. He complimented our host, expressed his surprise at the excellence of the entertainment, asked with a laugh how it was done, and completely resumed his usual manner. Perhaps he talked a little too freely, a little too fast, and viewed by the other's side, he grew younger.

What my lady saw or thought as she sat between the two men it was impossible to say, but she seemed in high spirits. She too talked gaily and laughed often; and doubtless the novelty of the scene, the great fires, the dark background, the burnished trunks of the beeches, the bizarre splendour of the feast, the laughter and s.n.a.t.c.hes of song which came from the other fire, were well calculated to excite and amuse her.

'These are not all your troops?' I heard her ask.

'Not quite,' the general answered drily. 'My men lie six hours south of us. I hope that you will do me the honour of reviewing them to-morrow.'

'You are marching south, then?'

'Yes. Everything and every one goes south this year.'

'To join the King of Sweden?'

'Yes,' the general answered, holding out his silver cup to be filled, and for that reason perhaps speaking very deliberately, 'to join the King of Sweden--at Nuremberg. But you have not yet told me, countess,'

he continued, 'why you are afield. This part is not in a very settled state, and I should have thought that the present time was----'

'A bad one for travelling?' my lady answered. 'Yes. But, I regret to say, Heritzburg is not in a very settled state either.' And thereon, without dwelling much on the cause of her troubles, she told him the main facts which had led to her departure.

I saw his lip curl and his eyes flicker with scorn. 'But had you no gunpowder?' he said, turning to the Waldgrave.

'We had, but no cannon,' he answered confidently.

'What of that?' the general retorted icily. 'I would have made a bomb, no matter of what, and fired it out of a leather boot hooped with cask-irons! I would have had half a dozen of their houses burning about their ears before they knew where they were, the insolents!'

The Waldgrave looked ashamed of himself. 'I did not think of that,' he said; and he hastened to hide his confusion in his gla.s.s.

'Well, it is not too late,' General Tzerclas rejoined, showing his teeth in a smile. 'If the Countess pleases, we will soon teach her subjects a lesson. I am not pushed for time. I will detach four troops of horse and return with you to-morrow, and settle the matter in a trice.'

But my lady said that she would not have that, and persisted so firmly in her refusal that though he pressed the offer upon her, and I could see was keenly interested in its acceptance, he had to give way. The reasons she put forward were the loss of his time and the injury to his cause; the real one consisted, I knew, in her merciful reluctance to give over the town to his troops, a reluctance for which I honoured her. To appease him, however, for he seemed inclined to take her refusal in bad part, she consented to go out of her way to visit his camp.

At this point my lady sent me on an errand to her women, which caused me to be away some minutes. When I came back I found that a change had taken place. The Waldgrave was speaking, and, from his heated face and the tone of his voice, it was evident that the old wine which had begun by opening his heart had ended by rousing his pugnacity.

'Pooh! I protest _in toto!_' he said as I came up. 'I deny it altogether. You will tell me next that the Germans are worse soldiers than the Swedes!'

'Pardon me, I did not say so,' General Tzerclas answered. The wine had taken no effect on him, or perhaps he had drunk less. He was as suave and cold as ever.

'But you meant it!' the younger man retorted.

'No, I did not mean it,' the general answered, still unmoved. 'What I said was that Germany had produced no great commander in this war, which has now lasted thirteen years.'

'Prince Bernard of Weimar, my kinsman!' the Waldgrave cried.

'Pardon me,' Tzerclas replied politely. 'Pardon me again if I say that I do not think he has earned that t.i.tle. He is a soldier of merit. No more.'

'Wallenstein, then?'

'You forget. He is a Bohemian.'

'Count Tilly, then?'

'A Walloon,' the general answered with a shrug. 'The King of Sweden? A Swede, of course.'

'A German by the mother's side,' my lady said with a smile.

'As you, Countess, are a Walloon,' Tzerclas answered with a low bow.

'Yet doubtless you count yourself a German?'