With the hilt of his sword Trafford banged at the base of one of the huge icicles that fringed the overhanging cornice. At the third blow it parted—four feet of glistening ice pointed to dagger fineness descended like a javelin on to the back of one of the storming party. The man fell without a sound. A snarl, half horror and half rage, burst from the crowd. His comrades raised his limp and lifeless body from the snow, and bore it from the danger zone.
"Forward again!" cried Von Hügelweiler, furiously rushing against the shop and burying his hatchet in the splintering shutter.
But Trafford was busy dislodging another icicle of even more formidable dimensions, and when that was used there were a score of others. The men drew back; one traitor's life was not worth the risk, and Von Hügelweiler, finding himself unsupported, withdrew too.
Whether caution would have prevailed, or whether the spirited harangue which Von Hügelweiler now addressed to his followers would have had its effect, can never be known. A diversion, more serious than hurtling snow or crashing icicle, occurred to change men's moods. A troop of horse, cuirassed, high-booted, armed with naked swords, was making its slow but irresistible way down the congested thoroughfare; and in the midst, with black slouch hat and sable uniform, rode the grimly smiling person of Father Bernhardt. A cheer greeted him, for his errand was unknown, and he might have come, for all they knew, to help in taking the traitor. If that was their idea, however, they were soon undeceived. The ex-priest's quick eye detected Von Hügelweiler, and the latter, reading its sinister message, commenced a hasty retreat.
"Two hundred kronen to the man who brings me Von Hügelweiler, dead or alive!" called out Bernhardt.
There was a movement in the crowd, and in it the late Captain of the Guard was lost to view.
"Good-morning, Father Bernhardt!" cried Trafford from the roof. "You arrive at an opportune moment; her Majesty's lieges were getting troublesome. At first I contented myself with snow-balling them, but they turned nasty and I had to despatch an icicle. I am afraid one liege was rather hurt."
Bernhardt's smile widened as he took in the situation.
"A pity it wasn't Von Hügelweiler," he said. "But you'd better let me escort you to your rooms. For the moment you seem to have fallen out of favour with the plebs."
"I fear so," replied the American, "and had it not been for good Herr Krantz, I might have fared badly at the hands of these gentlemen."