—“I advise you by every means in your power,” said he, “to avoid committing yourselves to the power of this intruder: depend upon it, this removal to a different place of confinement is only a pretence to persuade you to follow him without trouble; and I doubt not, he intends to convey you to some solitary spot, and put an end at once to your captivity and your lives. But take my counsel, and you shall be rescued from this danger: Walter is accompanied but by few attendants, and those badly armed; our people are treble the number of his, and we can easily overpower him, if you will but give us the command. Call to us for assistance; we will all be on your side; and as we have carefully avoided asking to see our master’s orders for giving you into Walter’s custody, we can easily make it believed that we took him for an impostor, and thus shall we escape Count Ethelbert’s vengeance, if you will but engage not to betray our secret!”—
The fellow, who hitherto had seldom deigned to hold a parley with us, said much more to the same effect. He left us undecided, what we ought to think of this proposal, and what mode of conduct it would be most prudent for us to pursue: yet after mature deliberation, and having completely canvassed the business by ourselves, the consideration, that in a situation so desolate as ours, any change must be for the better, made us resolve to submit quietly Ethelbert’s lately-issued commands.—New situations might furnish new resources, perhaps even an opportunity for flight; at all events our present condition was so hopeless, that we could not wish it to continue; and when at midnight Walter Forest unbarred our dungeon door, we followed him without a murmur.
In all probability the enemies of our new comptroller had agreed, that our resistance should be the signal for falling upon him. We found our anti-chamber filled with them; all were armed, and the threatening looks, which they threw on our conductor, sufficiently declared their purpose.—But when they saw that we accompanied him willingly, their courage appeared to fail them. Some few indeed unsheathed their swords, and made a faint show of resistance; but Walter’s people were neither cowards nor ignorant of the use of arms, and we were soon permitted to quit the Castle unimpeded.
—“Tremble!” we heard Walter exclaim, as we crost the threshold, “tremble, rebels, when I return! You shall not have opposed our master’s will without reward, and you shall find, that I am able to preserve the office, which Count Ethelbert has thought fit to intrust to my care!”—
At the entrance of the steep and narrow path, by which we descended the rock on whose brow the fortress was situated, stood a close litter, to which we were conducted. We entered it; the carriage moved on with rapidity; and now it was, that I ventured to discover to my friend my astonishment, at a circumstance which had just occurred. In quitting the Castle one of Walter’s people had raised the visor of his casque for a moment, and had shewn me what seemed to be the countenance of Henric Melthal! My narrative had already made Edith acquainted with the character of this man. In the whole circle of the ten jurisdictions there existed not a heart more honest or more brave. He had been one of my uncle’s most faithful vassals; and even when that domain where he resided was made over to the Count of Carlsheim, Henric still remained most tenderly attached to the interests of Count Venosta and his unhappy niece.
—“Henric Melthal?” exclaimed the Countess; “Oh! Urania, if this honest man is among our attendants, we are already more than half at liberty.—He surely knows not the prisoners whom he is guarding, and doubtless if we can but find an opportunity of discovering to him our names and danger, he will omit no endeavour to free us from our chains.”—
To confirm her in these pleasing hopes I was on the point of informing her, that when I was forcibly removed from the Castle of Sargans, this very Henric was the only person who dared to assert my innocence; when Walter Forest rode up to the side of the litter.
—“Noble ladies,” said he, while the moon showed us, that the gloom, which had overspread his countenance, was replaced by the smile of benevolence, and while the tone in which he addrest us was the most gentle and respectful, “Fear nothing; you are safe, and here is the person, whom you have to thank for your rescue.”—
I will not attempt to describe our feelings at hearing these words, which were no sooner spoken, than Walter again withdrew. The litter was dark; we could not see the person who entered it; but how were our doubts converted into rapture, when Edith felt her neck encircled by two little arms, and heard herself called by the name of mother!
With one voice we both pronounced the name of the dear lost child, who was now restored to us so unexpectedly. Rapture almost deprived the Countess of speech and recollection; and I was myself too much bewildered with the joy of having recovered the little Ludolf and my own liberty at the same time, to be capable of affording my friend much assistance. As soon as we could recollect ourselves, we endeavoured to call Walter to the side of the litter, in order that he might explain these mysterious transactions; but he paid no attention to us. This was not a fit time for explanations and expressions of gratitude. Not a moment was to be lost, and we traversed the valley with the rapidity of the tempest. Till we were safe on the other side of the mountains, or had crost the lake of Thun, we were desired not to expect our curiosity to be fully gratified; in the mean while we were obliged to content ourselves with such circumstances, as we could collect from Ludolf’s unconnected account, which however left us no doubt, that we were indebted for our rescue to the courage and address of Walter Forest.