The morning dawned after a sleepless night, and found the two old gentlemen sitting sorrowfully in Talander’s closet, which was bomb-proof. The lamp was nearly out, and they started up terrified on hearing the trumpet sound outside the castle walls. After a short time Axel, who had been wounded in the cheek, entered, announcing Baron Grotta, lieutenant-colonel in the imperial army, saying, “My lords, the colonel awaits you in the hall: for heaven’s sake show no fear, and let the magister settle the terms of a capitulation.”
He consented and left the room. On arriving in the hall a fine-looking officer met him, whose countenance might be called beautiful, had there not been an expression of defiance and haughtiness about the eyes and mouth which detracted from the impression first produced. After the usual civilities had been exchanged, the stranger informed him that a division of the imperial army was to pass through the village on that day, and that their general had learned with astonishment the audacity with which the castle had opposed their light troops; that he was inclined, however, to pardon this, knowing the rapacity and outrages of the Croats, who made no distinction between friend and foe; but that now he expected the castle to be surrendered to him immediately.
“On what conditions,” asked the astonished baron.
“Methinks you ought to be glad if an imperial general,” said he in a sarcastic tone, “after what has happened, once more kindly invites you to trust blindly to his generosity. At all events it is more advisable for you to open your gates than to let our cannons burst them open.”
At this moment the beautiful Tugendreich entered the hall, followed by a servant with flasks and goblets. Love, with its joys and sorrows had diffused a supernatural charm over her noble countenance, which did not fail to produce so magical an effect upon the warrior, that he at once in a gentler tone added to his menaces the question, “Is this your daughter?” The baron then introduced her, and the stranger took the brimming goblet she presented to him, and in a polite manner asked on what conditions the castle would capitulate. The baron pleading indisposition in consequence of the nightly assault promised to send his chaplain to negociate, and left the hall delighted to be released from this purgatory. The experienced hero now addressed himself courteously to the Fräulein, and after condoling with her on account of the terrors of the past night, and expressing his satisfaction at being able to contribute something to alleviate their present situation, was beginning to get as sentimental as it became a soldier in the thirty years’ war, when old Talander entered bowing, followed by Axel, who, unarmed, and in a respectful manner, brought in writing materials.
“In the name of my noble master I am to have the honour of treating with you, gallant sir,” said he in a submissive tone; “we have only a few just conditions to propose, which I beg your gracious permission to state.”
“Granted,” said the colonel, casting an expressive look at the Fräulein, which told her it was only on her account that he granted any conditions whatever. The magister began to read the following propositions: “Unconditional amnesty for the past night; liberty for religion and her servants until the fate of this country is decided; exemption from all contributions under whatever name or pretext they may be demanded.”
“Great demands,” interrupted the colonel.
“In return, Baron Von Starschedel grants to the troops of his imperial majesty the right of garrison in his castle,” continued Talander.
“But only to the regiment of Tiefenbach,” interrupted Axel, hastily. “It is best disciplined, and the promise which your general has given us in writing is a security of the capitulation being kept.”