Across the Fosse
Shoulder to Shoulder—Wrecking the Bridge—Well Found—The Dungeons of Rauhstein—The Castle Cook—The Enemy's Plan—Unwilling Help—A Parley—The Bridge Builders—At Short Range—Supper—Counsel—Fireworks—Long Odds—A Rush—From a Sling—A Covered Way—Firing the Train—Shambles
The shouting and the clatter of the coach had drawn the garrison into the courtyard. From these twenty men, the remnant of the brigand band, a great cheer went up, and they pressed forward eagerly to see the princely captive. Two or three of them were unarmed, but the rest, with the habit of seasoned warriors, had their swords in their belts and carbines slung at their shoulders.
"Well done, Otto!" cried one, slapping the landlord on the back.
But at that moment both doors of the coach were flung open, and out of each sprang a man with a pistol in the left hand and a sword in the right. These were followed by others, and before the astonished garrison realized the situation, six fully armed men were among them, and one, a tall, dark, lissom young fellow, all fire and energy, was calling on them to surrender. A few, cowed by the pistols pointed within a foot of their heads, and taken utterly aback by this astounding change of scene, flung down their carbines from sheer inability to think; but the more nimble-witted, and those on the outskirts of the little group, scurried away, under cover of their comrades, out of range, unslinging their carbines and drawing their swords as they ran.
Meanwhile the foremost postilion, in obedience to orders previously given by Harry, whipped up his horses and drove them at a gallop round the courtyard, narrowly escaping a bullet from the carbine of one of the garrison, until he came opposite the gateway, where he drew up so as to present the side of the coach to the opening, and cut the traces. The garrison, having by this time perceived by how small a body they were confronted, came forward in a compact mass against the little band. Carbines cracked, pistols flashed, steel rang on steel, and with shouts and oaths the two bands engaged. Harry was not in this mellay, for in the confusion he had slipped away and rushed through the archway, just in time to see the sentry striving with might and main to hurl the planks of the bridge into the fosse. He had caught sight of eleven dragoons in Austrian uniform galloping up from the valley half a mile away. The man turned as he heard Harry's approach, snatched up his sword, which he had dropped for his work with the planks, and threw himself into his guard in the nick of time to meet the attack. Harry felt that it was not a moment for fine sword-play; the man was a burly fellow, clumsy, and to appearance dull of wits. Running a risk which would be fatal if his opponent were a keen swordsman, Harry gave him an opening. It was instantly accepted, but the thrust was parried with lightning rapidity, and before the man could recover himself Harry's sword had ploughed a deep furrow in his forearm, and with a yell of pain he let his own weapon fall to the ground. Stepping back at the same moment with the instinct of self-preservation, he tumbled headlong into the fosse.
Immediately Harry wheeled round and dashed back to the support of his men, now engaged in a desperate and unequal battle. Their backs to the coach, they were facing dauntlessly thrice their number of infuriated brigands, who had discarded their firearms and came to the attack with swords flashing in ever-narrowing circles. One of the dragoons had already fallen; but his comrades were all tough soldiers tried on many a battle-field, recking nothing of the odds, every man with full confidence in himself and his fellows. They were ranged in a quarter circle against the coach, with just enough space between them to allow free play with their weapons. Twice already had they beaten back the enemy; a third and more determined onslaught had somewhat broken their formation, and two men had been wounded and forced back, exposing the flank of the others. Harry sprang through the coach just in time to close the gap. He hurled himself into the fray with a shout; the enemy, taking him for the advance-guard of reinforcements, fell back for a moment; and before they could recover and return to the charge there was a thunderous clatter on the bridge, the eleven troopers flung themselves from their steeds, and scrambling man by man through the coach gave threefold strength to the hard-pressed line.
"Charge!" shouted Harry in his clear, ringing voice.
The men surged forward with a roar of exultation, scattering the brigands to the limits of the courtyard. Two or three bolted like rabbits into the keep; the rest cried for quarter and flung down their arms; the din of battle suddenly ceased, and some seventeen panic-stricken prisoners were the prize of the victors.
"Max, go into the keep, up the stairs to the top, and tell me what you see."