But nothing of the kind happened. Instead of the desperate body of defenders they had expected to confront they saw the great hall empty. Then Ompertz rushed in like an avenging fury, and with a cheer the troops followed.
“Take care! Look out for a surprise! These devils are capable of anything,” the other captain cried warningly, but, for anything that could be seen, the devils had lost heart and fled. So easily, in the absence of its leading spirit, was this famed outlaw’s stronghold taken.
Through the now deserted rooms and passages Ompertz hurried, careless of the tempting spoil which presented itself on every hand, and by means of which he might easily have mended his fortunes, his mind occupied by but one object, the finding of Ludwig. “Prince!” he shouted, till the silent corridors echoed again, “Prince Ludwig! Where are you?” But no answer came, and as his search went fruitlessly on, the honest soldier began to have a sickening fear that he would never hear that voice again. “Prince!” he cried, in his desperation, “I am here, Ompertz, to set you free. Where are you?”
Shouting as he went, he reached a part of the building where the dimly lighted passages radiated into the rock. The place was indeed the den of a human brute. It struck despair into the soldier’s heart.
“A fine limbo for that smooth-spoken villain to live over,” he groaned in his desperation. “And I gave him his life that he might finish his butcher’s work. Poor Prince Ludwig! With all his mettle, and after all his escapes, to find his death in this beast’s den!”
But he was not going to give up the search until he found the prisoner, dead or alive. He tried one wedge-like passage after another, shouting the while like a madman. One of the soldiers, hot for plunder, ran against him.
“What’s the noise for, Captain?” he said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You ought to know the bearings of this infernal rookery; now show me where the money-chest is, and we will keep quiet, and share alike.”
“To the devil with your money-chest,” Ompertz returned impatiently. “I neither know nor care where that murdering dog kept his plunder. I am looking for a man.”
“A man?”
“Ay; the finest fellow that ever buckled on sword. Come, help me; though I fear to find his corpse after all.”