Algernon Grey understood the appeal, and saying in a low tone, "On my life! on my honour!" he led Agnes from the room; and, without passing through the chamber where he had left Frederic, advanced to the top of the great staircase. There he paused for a moment, and, drawing Agnes' arm through his, looked down on her face tenderly, asking in a low voice, "Are you afraid, Agnes?"
She raised her eyes, beaming through her tears: "Not in the least," she answered--"sorrowful, but not afraid."
When they reached the court-yard, it presented a strange wild scene; carriages, horses, men mounted and dismounted, were all gathered together by the light of a few torches; and some minutes elapsed before Algernon Grey could discover which was the horse that had been prepared for his fair companion. At length, however, a strong but light jennet was found, with a lady's saddle and a small leathern bag, or portmanteau, strapped upon the croup. A page held it, saying, that it had been got ready by the Queen's order; and, lifting the sweet girl lightly into the saddle, Algernon Grey mounted his own horse, bade the boy Frill, who was waiting, to follow, and rode out, turning towards the great gates of the citadel. There he found assembled the men of his own band, who had escaped into Prague, after the slaughter on the Weissenberg. He spoke for some minutes to a fine-looking young man at their head, and then bade his old servant Tony, who was with them, mount and come after him. Then, riding quickly through the streets, he reached the gates of the old town, and began to descend into the lower part of Prague.
The city was now comparatively quiet. The news of an armistice, which he himself had given, had spread amongst the people, calming their fears and cooling their heated passions. Multitudes had retired to their own houses; others had gone to consult at the town-house as to their future conduct; and none but a few stragglers were seen here and there, as the young Englishman and his fair companion rode through the dark unlighted streets. A cold November wind was whistling amongst the tall houses; the sky was varying every moment, now showing a star or two, now loaded with heavy clouds; and every thing seemed to bear the same sad and cheerless aspect that was presented by the fate of the royal persons he had just left. Summer had passed away, and the long, cold, desolate winter was close at hand.
A flaming sort of beacon, raised in an iron frame upon a pole, shed a broad glare over the open space before the guard-house of the inner gate, to which he directed his course; but no one was seen there but a sentry walking up and down; and Algernon Grey directed his servant to give the rein of the baggage-horse, which was led with them, to the page, and desire some one to open the gates. The warder, who came forth with one or two soldiers, seemed disposed to make difficulties; but the young Englishman produced the pass which he had received some hours before when going to the Bavarian camp; and, with a surly and discontented air, the man unlocked the heavy gates and let him pass. The drawbridge was slowly lowered; and, after a careful examination from the wicket-tower, to see that no enemy was near, the warder of the night opened the outer gates and let the whole party go forth, murmuring something about--"The fewer mouths in Prague the better!"
All was darkness, except where upon the summit of the Weissenberg the light of a fire here and there marked the bivouac of an Imperial regiment, occupying the position where the Bohemian army had been encamped the night before. Taking a narrow road to the right, though he knew not well whither it led, Algernon Grey rode on for some way through a sandy part of the ground, and then passed a small stream by a narrow bridge hardly wide enough for two horses to advance abreast. The moment after a broader glare of light was seen upon the left, and innumerable flames, flickering and flashing on the clouds of smoke which rose from the wood fires, showed where the whole host of the enemy lay.
Algernon Grey laid his hand gently upon that of Agnes Herbert, saying in a low tone, "We are safe for the present, dear Agnes. On our journey we will be brother and sister. God send the time may come when we may call each other by dearer names!"
These were the first words that had been spoken, but they made Agnes's whole frame thrill; and the next moment, putting his horse into a quicker pace, Algernon Grey led the way onward to the dark woods that stretched out before them.
CHAPTER V.
"I fear there are storms in the sky, dear Agnes," said Algernon Grey, as the stars disappeared, and the heavy clouds rolled broad over the heavens. "How cold the night wind blows!--does it not chill you, dear sister?"