mber, knave, what thou hast sworn."

He pressed Otto close to his breast in one last embrace. "My little
child," he murmured, "try not to hate thy father when thou thinkest of
him hereafter, even though he be hard and bloody as thou knowest."

But with his suffering and weakness, little Otto knew nothing of what
was passing; it was only as in a faint flickering dream that he lived in
what was done around him.

"Farewell, Otto," said the Baron, but Otto's lips only moved faintly in
answer. His father kissed him upon either cheek. "Come, Hans," said
he, hastily, "take him hence;" and he loosed Otto's arms from about his
neck.

Hans took Otto upon the saddle in front of him.

"Oh! my dear Lord Baron," said he, and then stopped with a gulp, and
turned his grotesquely twitching face aside.

"Go," said the Baron, harshly, "there is no time to lose in woman's
tears."

"Farewell, Conrad! farewell, Conrad!" said his two kinsmen, and coming
forward they kissed him upon the cheek then they turned and rode away
after Hans, and Baron Conrad was left alone to face his mortal foe.

XIII. How Baron Conrad Held the Bridge.

As the last of his followers swept around the curving road and was lost
to sight, Baron Conrad gave himself a shake, as though to drive away the
thoughts that lay upon him. Then he rode slowly forward to the middle of
the bridge, where he wheeled his horse so as to face his coming enemies.
He lowered the vizor of his helmet and bolted it to its place, and then
saw that sword and dagger were loose in the scabbard and easy to draw
when the need for drawing should arise.

Down the steep path from the hill above swept the pursuing horsemen.
Down the steep path to the bridge-head and there drew rein; for in the
middle of the narrow way sat the motionless, steel-clad figure upon the
great war-horse, with wide, red, panting nostrils, and body streaked
with sweat and flecked with patches of foam.

One side of the roadway of the bridge was guarded by a low stone wall;
the other side was naked and open and bare to the deep, slow-moving
water beneath. It was a dangerous place to attack a desperate man clad
in armor of proof.

"Forward!" cried Baron Henry, but not a soul stirred in answer, and
still the iron-clad figure sat motionless and erect upon the panting
horse.

"How," cried the Baron Henry, "are ye afraid of one man? Then follow
me!" and he spurred forward to the bridge-head. But still no one move