"He will already have formed his plans," said Lambert. "We on the creek will doubtless have to look out for ourselves, we are pushed ahead so far. There shall be nothing lacking with us, though I did not expect to have the murdering incendiaries here so soon again."
Out of Lambert's entire being spoke the settled courage of a man who well knew the threatened danger, but was resolved to defy it, come what would. His eyes sought Catherine's, who went quietly back and forth serving the men, and whose large, glistening eyes said: "You see, beloved, I am, like you, quiet and self-contained."
Adam seemed to have forgotten all his fear, while engaged in eating and drinking. He looked up at Catherine, when she filled his plate for the second time, bowing with a friendly grin. At last he slowly laid down his knife and fork and looked about him contentedly, as though he would say: "One sits here a good deal more comfortably than in the cursed high saddle of the mare, who threw me at every step from one side to the other."
"Are you ready, Adam?" asked Lambert, who had risen and had hung about him his rifle.
"Indeed," replied Adam, "but hardly the mare. The poor beast is not accustomed to anything like this."
"I will water her, and saddle Hans," said Lambert.
Catherine followed him to the door. Lambert caught her hand and said: "Catherine, I thank you, I thank you with my whole heart. I now know that I need cast no more reproaches on myself."
"You should not have cast any," said Catherine. "Your affairs are mine Your fate is mine. I live and die with you."
"And so will I give every drop of my blood for you," said Lambert, "but I hope to God that there are yet many good days appointed us. It cannot for the present have much significance. Conrad, who was up there for a week, and in the region from which they must come, surely knows more about our enemies than anyone else; and he told me that there is at least no immediate danger."
"So I think, too," said Catherine, "and for that reason I will ask a favor of you, Lambert. You have on my account slightly neglected your duty. Had you returned alone you would yesterday already have seen and spoken with your friends, for you would have taken the road through the valley instead of through the woods. To-day it is fortunate that your friend Adam has found us, for you might easily have failed to be where you belong. This is not right, and lies heavy on my mind. Now you have a long ride. I know well that Hans can carry us both, but he will go better if you alone ride him. And then what would be the result should everyone, on such an occasion, drag his wife with him? The others also stay at home. You will leave me here, Lambert. Is it not so?"