the other shore, aiming the guns with his own hand.
The Walloons, Tilly's last hope, charged, but broke under the
withering fire. In desperation the old field-marshal seized the
standard and himself led the forlorn hope. Half-way to the bridge he
fell, one leg shattered by a cannon-ball, and panic seized his men.
The imperialists fled in the night, carrying their wounded leader.
He died on the march soon after. Men said of him that he had served
his master well.

The snow-king had not melted in the south. He was master of the
Roman empire from the Baltic to the Alps. The way to Austria and
Italy lay open before him. Protestant princes crowded to do him
homage, offering him the imperial crown. But Gustav Adolf did not
lose his head. Toward the humbled Catholics he showed only
forbearance and toleration. In Munich he visited the college of the
Jesuits, and spoke long with the rector in the Latin tongue,
assuring him of their safety as long as they kept from politics and
plotting. The armory in that city was known to be the best stocked
in all Europe and the King's surprise was great when he found
gun-carriages in plenty, but not a single cannon. Looking about him,
he saw evidence that the floor had been hastily relaid and
remembered the "dead" monks at Wuerzburg. He had it taken up and a
dark vault appeared. The King looked into it.

"Arise!" he called out, "and come to judgment," and amid shouts of
laughter willing hands brought out a hundred and forty good guns,
welcome reenforcements.

The ignorant Bavarian peasants had been told that the King was the
very anti-Christ, come to harass the world for its sins, and carried
on a cruel guerilla warfare upon his army. They waylaid the Swedes
by night on their foraging trips and maimed and murdered those they
caught with fiendish tortures. The bitterest anger filled Gustav
Adolf's soul when upon his entry into Landshut the burgomaster knelt
at his stirrup asking mercy for his city.

"Pray not to me," he said harshly, "but to God for yourself and for
your people, for in truth you have need."

For once thoughts of vengeance seemed to fill his soul. "No, no!" he
thundered when the frightened burgomaster pleaded that his townsmen
should not be held accountable for the cruelty of the country-folk,
"you are beasts, not men, and deserve to be wiped from the earth
with fire and sword." From out the multitude there came a warning
voice: "Will the King now abandon the path of mer