smelling at a walnut, for any knight of them all to try to make way
into this castle!'

'Who are they? For pity's sake, tell us, dear Barbe,' entreated Eleanor.

'They say it is the Duke himself; but he has never durst meddle with my
Lords before. All but the Hawk's tower is in Lorraine, and my Lord
can bring a storm about his ears if he lifts a finger against us. A
messenger would soon bring Banget and Steintour upon him. But never you
fear, fair ladies, you have friends, and he will come to terms,' said
good old Barbe, divided between pity for her guests and loyalty to her
masters.

'If it is the Duke, he will free you, Elleen,' said Jean weeping; 'he
will not care for me!'

'Jeanie, Jeanie, could you think I would be set free without you?'

'You might not be able to help yourself. 'Tis you that the German
wants.'

'Never shall he have me if he be such a recreant, mansworn fellow as to
leave my sister to the reiver. Never!'

'Ah! if poor Geordie were there, he would have moved heaven and earth to
save me; but there is none to heed me now,' and Jean fell into a passion
of weeping.

When they had to go down to supper, the younger Baron received them with
the news--'So, ladies, the Duke has been shouting his threats at us, but
this castle is too hard a nut for the like of him.'

'I have seen others crack their teeth against it,' said his father; and
they both laughed, a hoarse derisive laugh.

The ladies vouchsafed not a word till they were allowed to retire to
their chamber.

They listened in the morning for the sounds of an assault, but
none came; there was absolutely nothing but an occasional hum of voices
and clank of armour. When summoned to the mid-day meal, it was scanty.

'Ay,' said the elder Baron, we shall have to live hard for a day or two,
but those outside will live harder.'

'Till they fall out and cut one another's throats,' said his son.
'Fasting will not mend the temper of Hans of Schlingen and Michel au Bec
rouge.'

'Or till Banget descends on him for meddling on Lorraine ground,' added
old Balchenburg. 'Eat, lady,' he added to Jean; 'your meals are not so
large that they will make much odds to our stores. We have corn and beer
enough to starve out those greedy knaves outside!'

Poor Jean was nearly out of her senses with distress and uncertainty,
and being still weak, was less able to endure. She burst into violent
hysterical weeping, and had to be helped up to her own room, where