A little village lay immediately before him, when he parted with his new companions; but it was all dark and solitary; and, though the clouds had gathered thickly over the sky, and the north-east wind was blowing keen, he asked Agnes if she could still proceed; and, on her answering in the affirmative, rode on along the broad and even road, catching, from time to time, a glimpse of the glistening Moldau on the left, though at a much greater distance than before.
"If I recollect right, dear Agnes," he said, "some six or seven miles ahead is the small town of Weltrus, where there is a passage-boat across the river. We can discover there whether there is any danger to be expected on the other side; and, if not, can get across, placing ourselves in the enemy's rear; after which we shall have no difficulty in reaching Waldsachsen, where we shall be in a friendly country, and able, I trust, to make our way through the Upper Palatinate to Heilbronn and Heidelberg."
Agnes agreed to all that he proposed; but the distance was somewhat greater than he had imagined. His own horse showed great symptoms of fatigue. It became necessary to proceed more slowly as they advanced; and the church clock struck three as they entered the narrow street. All was dark and silent as they advanced, till, when they were about midway through the little town, they heard the watchman of the night, as was then common in almost every village in Germany, and is still practised in remote places, knocking at the doors of the principal houses, and waking the drowsy inhabitants, to assure them that "all is right."
With the aid of this functionary, the landlord of the little Guest-house was brought to the door, and rooms speedily prepared for the travellers to repose. He would fain, to say the truth, have put them all into one chamber; for the manners of that part of the country were somewhat rude in their simplicity; and the good man could not understand the delicacy of a more refined state. All, however, was arranged at length; and Agnes lay down to repose. Her lover occupied a chamber near; and his two attendants were placed on a pallet across the lady's door.
It was evident, from the quiet manner of the host, that no tidings had yet reached him of the rout of Prague; but Algernon Grey was anxious to depart before the rumour spread through the country, and, with the first ray of morning light, he was on foot. From the boatmen at the ferry he found that the only intelligence they had yet received from the scene of war was nearly four days old. Men spoke of the combat of Rakonitz as the last great event, and satisfied that, on the way before him, there would be found none but the ordinary dangers which awaited all travellers in those days, he returned and roused Agnes from the deep slumber into which she had fallen.
In a few minutes she was by his side, saying, "How strange a thing is sleep, Algernon! I had forgot all, and, in the only dream I had, I was a child again, in the happy valley by the banks of the Meuse."
Algernon Grey smiled sadly. "Sometimes I hardly know," he said, "which is the dream, which the reality: the vivid images of sleep or those that pass before our waking eyes. Perhaps a time may come when we shall wake to truer things, and find that this life and all that it presents was but a vision."
"No," said his fair companion, after a moment's thought; "there are some things that must be real. The strong affections that go down with us to death; good actions, and, alas! evil ones, likewise.--But I am ready; let us set out again."
Algernon Grey would not suffer her to encounter renewed fatigue without some refreshment; and, after a light meal already ordered, they passed across the river in the ferry-boat.
"Great news! great news!" cried a stranger, riding up to cross over from the other side, just as they were remounting their horses after landing, "The good Duke of Bavaria and General Bucquoy have defeated the heretic Elector Palatine under the walls of Prague, and taken him and his English wife prisoners!"