"You did right, Steinmetz, and I am glad there is one man in the castle who obeys the master of it unquestioning. It is war!" and as with increased violence the Black Count roared these words, he smote the grinning head with his gigantic paw and sent it spinning along the floor like a round projectile from a catapult.
"It is not war, it is murder!" wailed the Countess. "There is a curse on this doomed roof, and it shall fall in deserved ruin."
"Hush, hush," whispered Rodolph in her ear. "Bend to the storm; nothing can be done with him now."
"I am going with Hilda; I am going with Hilda. I care not where, so long as it is away from Thuron."
"No, no. Hilda will be safe enough, while you are not, outside those walls. Let me conduct you to your apartments, and I will be surety that you shall see Hilda shortly. For her sake as well as your own, bend to the storm. Don't you see you are dealing with a madman?"
Count Heinrich stood watching them, laughing in short snarling harsh snatches that did indeed resemble the ejaculations of a lunatic, but he made no attempt to interfere with them. Hilda, thoroughly hysterical through fear, leaving her mistress in the care of Rodolph, had flung herself at the feet of the Count, beseeching him to deal with her as he pleased, saying she would go anywhere he ordered her to go, and in the same breath imploring him not to be harsh with her mistress.
"Take her away, Steinmetz," commanded Heinrich, spurning her with his foot. "Send her down to the village."
The Captain, grasping her wrist, jerked her rudely to her feet, pushed past Rodolph and the Countess, dragging the girl out with him. The Countess seemed again about to protest, pausing in her progress, but the young man urged her towards the door, still counselling silence.