"There is nothing but what I can take upon my own shoulders," answered the old man with a sigh; "and they are broad enough to bear twice the weight." And rising from his temporary seat, he jerked it on to his back. Then seizing up another small valise in his hand, he stood ready for departure.
"Enter the first inn, and there await my orders, whether they have room to lodge us or no; as is not probable in the confusion of the town," said Otmar. "I trust that I may yet find us other and better quarters for another night; and we can seek a home for once under nature's roof, without much detriment to our bones."
"What his lord can bear, can old Farkas also," was the attendant's sturdy answer, and he left the room.
"Farewell then," said Otmar, gazing around him. "Farewell, my poor chamber, the depositary of so many hopes and aspirations, regrets, sad thoughts, and air-built castles. Visions, bright visions of beauty and of love, have illumined thy dark walls; and they, too, have flown—flown before a stern reality, which proclaimed them folly, madness—ay, madness! They are gone for ever! But shall they not be followed by dreams of glory, of renown, of smiles from her beaming eyes to thank her champion—her friend? Yes—me, too, she has called her friend. Farewell, then, my poor chamber! Thou hast witnessed little but my wretchedness, and yet I regret thee; for her spirit—hers—the beautiful, the bright, the unknown—still hovers around thee. Fare-thee-well!"
Otmar prepared to depart; but he was still lingering to send around him a last look upon those bare walls which he had thus apostrophized, when hasty steps were heard to mount the stair, and Farkas abruptly re-entered the room.
"Quick, quick!" cried the old man. "I saw him coming up the street—him, you know—that outlandish rascal, whom you fought by the inn on the roadside, because he would have spoken ill of our Queen—God preserve her!—the same who, if your doubts prove true, was the villain who tore that cursed slip in your attila last night—the foul fiend confound him, eb adta! I thought I had a stronger arm—old fool that I was! Quick, quick!" And seizing Otmar's arm, he dragged him to the open window.
"It is he!" exclaimed the young noble, looking out; "the same tall form and insolent gait. Ah! he is entering the house. Hark! he is mounting the stair. God be praised, he falls into my very hands!"
In truth, footsteps were evidently ascending the staircase. Otmar and his old attendant paused to listen with palpitating interest. The next moment the door of the Jew's apartment, on the other side of the passage, was heard to open, and a voice to exclaim, "Hello! old fox, where have you hid yourself? Out of your hole, I say! I have to speak with you." Then the door closed, and all was still.
"It is the same voice!" exclaimed Otmar again. "It is he who made that foul attempt upon her liberty. Villain!" And half-drawing his sabre, he rushed towards the door of the room.
"Down with him! down with the rascal, teremtette!" cried Farkas, following his master in excitement.