When morning at last dawned, I was half dead. My head seemed bursting; my hands were purple with the tightness of my bonds. Deep groans broke from me. I moved my eyes--the only things I could move--in an agony. Round me I heard the sick thanking God as the light grew stronger, and muttering words of hope. But the light helped me little. Where I lay, trussed like a fowl, I could see nothing except the sky--whence the sun would soon add to my miseries--and the heads of the two men who sat propped against the waggon boards next to me.
I took one of these to be dead, for he had slipped to one side, and the arm with which he had stayed himself against the floor of the waggon stood out stiff and stark. The other man had the comfort of the corner; there was a cloak under him and a pad behind him. But his head was sunk on his breast, and for a while I thought him dead too, and had a horrible dread that he would slide over on to my face and stifle me. But he did not, and by-and-by, when the sun had risen, and I felt that I could bear it no longer, he woke up and raised his fierce, white face and groaned.
It was Ludwig. He stared at me for a minute or more in a dazed, stupid fashion. Then he moved his leg and cried out with pain. After that he looked at me more sensibly, and by-and-by spoke.
'Donner, man!' he said. 'What is it? You look like a ripe mulberry.'
I tried to answer him, but my lips and throat were so parched and swollen I could only murmur. He saw my lips move, however, and guessed how it was with me.
'They have tied you up with a vengeance!' he said with a grim smile. 'Here, Franz! Willibrod! Who is there? Come, some one. Do you hear, you lazy knaves?' he continued in a hoarse croak. 'When I am about again I will find some of you quicker heels!'
A man just risen came grumbling to the side of the waggon. Ludwig bade him climb in and loosen my bonds, and set me up against the side.
'And take away that carrion!' he added brutally. 'Dead men pay no fares. That is better. Ay, give him some water. He will come round.'
I did presently, though for a time the blood flowing where it had been before restrained, caused me horrible pain, and my tongue, when I tried to thank him, seemed to be too large for my mouth. But I could now sit up, and stretch my limbs, and even raise my hands to my mouth. Hope returned. My thoughts flew back to Marie Wort. Her pale face and large eyes rose before my eyes, and filled them with tears. Then there was my lady. And the Waldgrave. Doubtless he, poor fellow, was dead. But the rest lived--lived, and would soon look to me, look to any one for help. On that I became myself again. I shook off the pain and lethargy and despair of the night, and took up the burden of life. If my wits could save us, or, failing them, some happy accident, I would not be wanting. I had still a day or two, and all the chances of a journey.
Ludwig gave me food and a drink from his flask. I thanked him again.