And Ernestine! I thought then of Ernestine—of her goodness and her beauty; of her father's wishes concerning that rough Reitre, Count Kœningheim; I writhed in my plaid at the thought of them, and grasped my dirk on recalling the conversation between Tilly and his ruffian follower.
By separation from Ernestine, the tender impression she had made upon me was increased—for such is the strength of imagination. This fancy or attachment I might doubtless have vanquished by an effort; but I had no reason to exert this effort, and so the fancy lingered in my breast, and strengthened there.
Something startled me.
Raising myself on an elbow, I looked round. Near me a hundred men were sleeping in the darkness; but beyond, at the skirts of the wood, a strange glow appeared between the trees. Some distant town was perhaps in flames; but no, it grew redder, deeper, broader, and then came a crackling sound, with a strong smell of smoke and burning wood. On turning round, the same appearance met my eye on two opposite points; and the lights brightened so fast, that I could see the helmets of the sleepers close beside me shining in the yet distant gleam.
Our sentinels fired their muskets. A pang of horror and dismay shot through my heart.
"Up, up! gentlemen and comrades!" I exclaimed, starting to my feet; "to your arms—to your arms! In three places the wood is on fire!"
At this appalling cry, the whole company sprang to their feet and unpiled their arms.
"The Imperialists are upon us!" cried Lumsdaine.
"The four corners of the wood are on fire," added Hugh Rose, drawing his claymore.
"Iosa—Iosa!" shouted the soldiers; "here come the flames!"