re-ship alone, a dark mass, still
stood a few yards from the door. The firing ceased, and an uncomfortable
silence succeeded to the deadly conflict.

In the hall of the upper story Anton and Fink met, and were immediately
joined by the forester. Each of the friends silently sought to
ascertain, in the dim light, whether the other stood before him
unharmed. "Capitally done, forester," cried Fink. "Demand to be admitted
to the baron, and give in your report."

"And request Fraeulein Lenore to give you linen for dressings; we have
had losses," said Anton, mournfully, as he pointed to the floor, where
two men sat leaning against the wall and groaning.

"Here comes a third," replied Fink, as a dark shape was slowly carried
down stairs from the tower. "I fear the man is dead; he lay at my feet
like a log."

"Who is it?" inquired Anton, shuddering.

"Barowsky, the tailor," whispered one of the bearers.

"What a fearful night!" cried Anton, turning away.

"We must not think of that now," said Fink. "Human life is only valuable
when one is ready to surrender it on a fitting opportunity. The great
point is, that we have shaken off that fiery millstone from our throats.
It is not impossible that the wretches may yet succeed in kindling it;
but it will not do much harm at its present distance."

At that moment a bright light shone through the loop-holes of the tower.
All rushed to the window. A dazzling light flamed up from the opposite
side of the wagon, and a sudden impetus hurled the heavy mass against
the wall of the house. A single man sprang back from the wagon; a dozen
guns were pointed at him at once.

"Stop!" cried Fink, in a piercing voice. "It is too late. Spare him; he
is a fine fellow; the mischief is done."

"Merci, Monsieur; au revoir!" said a voice from below; and the man
sprang uninjured into the darkness.

In a moment the wagon was in a blaze, and from the straw and rushes with
which it was laden on the top, the yellow flames rose crackling, while
firebrands flew in all directions. The house was suddenly illuminated:
masses of smoke burst through the shattered windows.

"That is powder," cried Fink. "Steady, steady, my men! We will keep the
enemy off if they force an entrance. You, Anton, see whether you can put
out the fire."

"Water!" cried the men; "the window-frame has caught!" Without, there
were fresh orders shouted out. The drums beat; and, with a wild cry of
triumph, a cordon of skirmishers