The Lion of the North: A Tale of the Times of Gustavus Adolphus by G. A. Henty (popular books of all time .txt) 📗
- Author: G. A. Henty
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“Whom have you here?” the governor asked, indicating Malcolm by a motion of the head.
“It is a craftsman from Nuremberg. The clock had stopped, and the count, with whom the hours pass but slowly, fretted himself at not being able to count them; so I asked our attendant to bring hither a craftsman to put it in order, first sending her with a note to you asking for permission for him to come; as you were out your deputy signed the order.”
“He should not have done so,” the baron said shortly, “for the orders are strict touching the entry of any here. However, as he has taken the clock to pieces, he can put it together again.” So saying he went over to the table where Malcolm was at work and stood for a minute or two watching him. The manner in which Malcolm fitted the wheels into their places, filing and oiling them wherever they did not run smoothly, satisfied him that the youth was what he seemed.
“You are young to have completed your apprenticeship,” he said.
“It is expired but two months, sir,” Malcolm said, standing up respectfully.
“Under whom did you learn your trade?” the governor asked; “for I have been in Nuremberg and know most of the guild of clockmakers by name.”
“Under Jans Boerhoff, the syndic of the guild,” Malcolm replied.
“Ah!” the baron said shortly; “and his shop is in—”
“The Cron Strasse,” Malcolm said promptly in answer to the implied question.
Quite satisfied now, the baron turned away and conversed a few minutes with the count, telling him that as the surgeon said he could now be safely removed he would in three days be transferred to an apartment in the fortress.
“Will the countess be permitted to accompany me?” the count asked.
“That I cannot tell you,” the baron replied. “We are expecting a messenger with his majesty's orders on the subject tomorrow or next day. I have already informed you that, in his solicitude for her welfare, his majesty has been good enough to order that the young countess shall be placed in the care of the lady superior of the Convent of St. Catherine.”
A few minutes later he left the room. Not a word was spoken in the room until the sound of horse's hoofs without told that he had ridden off.
As the door closed the countess and Thekla had dropped their work and sat anxiously awaiting the continuance of the conversation. The count was the first to speak.
“How mean you, Malcolm? How think you it possible that Thekla can escape, and where could she go?”
“I like not to make the proposal,” Malcolm said gravely, “nor under any other circumstances should I think of doing so; but in a desperate position desperate measures must be adopted. It is impossible that in your present state you can escape hence, and the countess will not leave you; but what is absolutely urgent is that your daughter should be freed from the strait. Save myself you have no friends here; and therefore, count, if she is to escape it must be through my agency and she must be committed wholly to my care. I know it is a great responsibility; but if you and the countess can bring yourselves to commit her to me I swear to you, as a Scottish gentleman and a Protestant soldier, that I will watch over her as a brother until I place her in all honour in safe hands.”
The count looked at the countess and at Thekla, who sat pale and still.
“We can trust you, Malcolm Graheme,” he said after a pause. “There are few, indeed, into whose hands we would thus confide our daughter; but we know you to be indeed, as you say, a Scottish gentleman and a Protestant soldier. Moreover, we know you to be faithful, honourable, and true. Therefore we will, seeing that there is no other mode of escape from the fate which awaits her, confide her wholly to you. And now tell us what are your plans?”
CHAPTER XXI FLIGHT
“I THANK you, count, and you, dear lady,” Malcolm said gratefully, “for the confidence you place in me, and will carry out my trust were it to cost me my life. My plan is a simple one. The guard will be changed in half an hour's time. I have brought hither a suit of boy's garments, which I must pray the Countess Thekla to don, seeing that it will be impossible for her to sally out in her own garb. I show my pass to the sentry, who will deem that my companion entered with me, and is my apprentice, and will suppose that, since the sentry who preceded him suffered him to enter with me he may well pass him out without question. In the town I have a wagon in readiness, and shall, disguised as a peasant, start with it this evening. Thekla will be in the bottom covered with straw. We shall travel all night.
“Tomorrow, when your attendant discovers that your daughter has escaped, she will at once take the news to the governor. The sentries will all be questioned, and it will be found that, whereas but one clockmaker came in two went out. The city will be searched and the country round scoured but if the horsemen overtake me they will be looking for a craftsman and his apprentice, and will not suspect a solitary peasant with a wagon.
“The first danger over I must be guided by circumstances; but in any case Thekla must travel as a boy to the end of the journey, for in such troubled times as these it were unsafe indeed for a young girl to travel through Germany except under a strong escort of men-at-arms. I design to make my way to Nuremberg, and shall then place her in the hands of my good friend Jans Boerhoff, whose wife and daughters will, I am sure, gladly receive and care for her until the time, which I hope is not far off, that peace be made and you can again rejoin her.”
“The plan is a good one,” the count said when Malcolm had concluded, “and offers every prospect of success. 'Tis hazardous, but there is no escape from such a strait as ours without risk. What say you, wife?”
“Assuredly I can think of nothing better. But what say you, Thekla? Are you ready to run the risks, the danger, and the hardships of such a journey under the protection only of this brave Scottish gentleman?”
“I am ready, mother,” Thekla said quickly, “but I wish—I wish”—and she hesitated.
“You wish you could go in your own garments, Thekla, with jewels on your fingers and a white horse to carry you on a pillion behind your protector,” the count said with a smile, for his spirits had risen with the hope of his daughter's escape from the peril in which she was placed. “It cannot be, Thekla. Malcolm's plan must be carried out to the letter, and I doubt not that you will pass well as a 'prentice boy. But your mother must cut off that long hair of yours; I will keep it, my child, and will stroke it often and often in my prison as
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