'For shame, my love!' answered Oswald. 'Will you, who spoke so boldly for me to the grim Wallenstein, lose your courage here in the bosom of harmonious nature, where we are especially and wholly in the hands of a protecting G.o.d?'

'We are at the end!' exclaimed the Bohemian, stepping out into the clear sunshine. The fugitives followed him, and found themselves in a narrow but pleasant valley, surrounded by high snow-covered rocks which cut off this quiet retreat from the rest of the world. A clear, silver fountain, which gushed from a cleft in the rocks, meandered through the vale, while among and upon the rocks, like eyries, were to be seen about ten huts, built of rough branches, and well covered with moss, to secure their inhabitants from the inclemencies of the weather. Men, women, and children, were moving in and about these simple dwellings as quietly and confidently as if they had resided there all their lives.

The fire ordered by the Bohemian twirled its smoke up into the clear heavens, and there sat Lotek, a.s.siduously turning a haunch of venison which was roasting before it. An old and venerable man with a long white beard, in a black clerical dress, and with a black cap surmounting his white hairs, came forth from one of the best of the huts to meet the new comers.

'Welcome, ye who have become outcasts and wanderers for the sake of your faith!' said he, with solemnity, as he extended to them the hand of friendship. 'Welcome to the Hussite's Rest. In my hut there is yet room for you. Come, eat of my bread and drink of my cup. By the grace of G.o.d you have here found an asylum which will conceal and protect you as long as may be necessary; for the destructive storm which now rages over the land, reaches not here.'

'Heartfelt thanks for your hospitable offer, reverend father,' said Oswald. 'Have you dwelt long among these rocks?'

'For the last five years,' answered the venerable pastor. 'After our emperor (who will one day have to answer for the deed before the judgment seat) destroyed the sacred edict which a.s.sured toleration, and burned its seal, there was no longer peace or safety for the poor Hussites in Bohemia. As he openly declared that 'he would have none but catholic subjects,' more than thirty thousand of our most respected families, embracing all ranks, wandered abroad to strengthen and enrich foreign countries by their wealth and industry. The poor cultivators of the soil could not avail themselves of the generous permission to emigrate with their property. They could not carry the soil with them, and being thus compelled to remain, they seized their arms and fell upon their persecutors. I myself, with the cross in my hand, led my parishioners against the enemy, and we struck boldly for our religion.

Fresh armies were sent against us; the gallows and racks were enc.u.mbered with the corpses of our brethren, and we were compelled to yield; but it was impossible for us wholly to abandon our father-land, and we therefore threw ourselves into the caverns among these rocks, where a deep seclusion from the world is our only safety. Here we live quietly and peacefully upon the produce of our labor and the chase, which we dispose of in Bohemia and Silesia, and are much rejoiced whenever a victim of priestly rage wanders. .h.i.ther to claim our protection and hospitality.'

'We may now dismiss all anxiety,' said Oswald to Faith. 'We have at last reached a safe and well concealed haven.'

'That beauteous form inclines so confidingly and yet so modestly toward you, young man,' said the venerable pastor, 'that I should judge you were not yet man and wife, but only lovers. If you desire it, I will p.r.o.nounce the blessing of the church over you. I am fully authorized to perform the ceremony, having received ordination from our right reverend bishop, who now wears the crown of martyrdom before the throne of the Lamb.'

'Have I your consent, my dearest?' asked Oswald, warmly pressing the maiden's hand. 'We already have your mother's blessing.'

'Not now, dear Oswald,' said Faith, with mingled sadness and resignation. 'I cannot consent to take that important step while yet so deeply impressed with sorrow for the fate of my dearest relatives. Our love must now wear the mourning dress in which it has been clad by these unhappy times. It would be almost wicked to put on the myrtle now; and the decisive _yes_, which should be spoken out of a joyful heart, would be stifled by my sobs and tears, under the present circ.u.mstances.'

'Your wish can alone decide the question,' said Oswald, tenderly, impressing a chaste kiss upon her forehead.

'Maiden, it is evident you have chosen a worthy partner,' said the pastor. 'And early has your betrothed learnt the lesson of self-denial, the hardest in this life to be acquired.'

Delighted to hear from such reverend lips the praise of one so dear to her, the maiden threw her arms about Oswald's neck and embraced him with love and joy.

CHAPTER XIX.

'The morning is fine,' said Faith to Oswald after breakfast, as their venerable host seated himself with his bible upon his knee; 'and the valley here is so narrow and close that these huge rocks seem to press upon my heart. Let us therefore walk out a short distance beyond their confines.'

'Venture not too far, my children!' said the pastor, in a warning voice without raising his eyes from his book. 'My old body is a true and faithful weather-prophet, and tells me that we shall have a severe storm to-day. These storms rage much more furiously here than in the plains, and, when they come, every living creature finds it necessary to seek a shelter.'

'We will soon return,' promised Faith, skipping forth by Oswald's side.

'Mark well the place of entrance to our retreat,' said the Hussite, who opened the outer stone door for them; 'that you may be sure to find it again. The pa.s.sages among the rocks are very similar, and if by mistake you enter a wrong one you may be compelled to wander about all day long.'

'Never fear! 'answered Oswald. 'It would illy become a soldier to be unable to remember any locality it might be necessary for him to find again. He then looked at the highest peaks in the vicinity, impressed their relative positions upon his memory, carefully examined the secret door, and thus prepared, they went forth into the clear fresh morning air and soon became engaged in a conversation of such interest as to render them entirely heedless of the lapse of time.

'I know not how it is,' said Faith, fanning her glowing face with her handkerchief; 'it is yet mid winter here, and I am so very warm.'

'It is incident to the summer of life,' said their former guide, who suddenly stood before them as they turned a corner; 'especially when the sun of love shines warmly. It is not probable you will have much further occasion to complain of the heat to-day, for a storm is approaching.'

'With the sky so clear? Impossible!' cried Faith.

'You know nothing of the tricks of the mountain-sprites,' said the Bohemian. 'One moment we have sunshine, the next thunder and lightning.

That is the way with them. You will do well to return to the valley betimes.'

He pa.s.sed on and was soon out of sight.

'We had better follow him,' said Oswald.

'Yet but one quarter of an hour,' begged Faith; 'and then we will return as fast as we can.'

'Who can deny you any thing,' said the youth; 'even when you solicit what should not be granted?'

They still continued to advance, until they came where the rocks were less compactly cl.u.s.tered, and glimpses of the plain, presenting brilliant winter landscapes, were occasionally obtained through the openings.

'Ah, how much pleasanter it is here than in the pent up valley!' cried Faith, clapping her hands with childish joy.

Oswald suddenly started and listened. 'Did you hear nothing?' he asked the maiden. 'It sounded like a distant trumpet.'

'Yes,' said Faith, after listening a moment; 'it must be the blast of a trumpet.'

'It may be our pursuers!' cried Oswald. 'Let us hasten back to our asylum.'

He now turned quickly about with Faith, and, rather bearing than leading her, hastened to retrace the path by which they had come.

Before proceeding far on their return, they were met by a colder and sharper wind, and the snow which it blew from the summits of the rocks involved them in a white fleecy cloud.

'Alas, Oswald, I can no longer see,' complained Faith.

'It is but little better with me,' answered Oswald, groping after the path to the right, which he supposed to be the one he should take.

Still sharper blew the wind as the storm rapidly approached, and the dark gray mountain-clouds lashed the immense rocks with their mighty wings, sending down their acc.u.mulated snows upon the heads of the poor wanderers. Still more wildly rushed and whistled and howled the winds among the rocks, in strangely horrible tones, and in the midst of the uproar they distinguished the sounds of distant rolling thunder and the flashes of lightning in the low dark clouds. In this struggle of the elements, all the summits and other landmarks which Oswald had noted to guide his returning steps, had completely disappeared, and at length he impatiently cried: 'I have lost the way. Why was I weak enough to yield to the wishes of a child!'

'Chide not, dear Oswald,' entreated Faith, submissively. 'I will willingly endure every hardship which is suffered with you.'

'That is what distresses me,' said Oswald. 'Were I alone, I should enjoy this storm instead of trembling at it; for nature appears to me most beautiful in anger, and I have already been compelled to expose this brow to many a wild tempest. My anxiety for you troubles me. If your health should be injured by this exposure I should be inconsolable, and have only my own thoughtlessness to blame for it.'

A brighter flash and louder report now put it beyond doubt that a terrible storm was at hand. The echoes thundered among the rocks, now nearer and now farther off, until they finally died away in indistinct murmurs.

'A thunderstorm in winter!' cried the trembling Faith. 'That is doubly horrible.'

'Who knows that this tempest may not bring a blessing; and certainly it cannot do much harm here among these old rocks,' said Oswald by way of consoling her, still continuing to advance at random.

'Thank heaven, I hear human voices!' exultingly shouted Faith: and like a doe she skipped towards an eminence with such speed that Oswald could scarcely follow her.

A mult.i.tude of people were approaching, sure enough. It was composed of colonel Goes, the detestable Hurka, and a troop of the Lichtenstein dragoons, who immediately aimed their arms at the fugitives.

'Stand!' cried Goes, amid the thunder of the storm, to his son, whom he instantly recognised. 'Stand, or I command the troops to fire.'

'Father, do no violence!' cried the despairing youth, throwing himself before the maiden, who had sunk upon her knees; 'G.o.d judges righteously and protects the innocent! Hear how he warns you with the voice of his thunder!'

The captain gave a loud and scornful laugh.

'Seize the rebel and his heretic bride,' shrieked the angry colonel.

The captain, nothing loth, motioning his dragoons to follow him and confiding in his superior force, hastened forward, swinging his sword high above his head. The colonel accompanied him and the dragoons followed.