“Alas! I know them well,” answered Hans. “He who rode at their head is no other than Baron Schenk of Schweinsburg, your father’s greatest and, I may say, only enemy. If he guesses who you are, my dear young master, I fear that he will not let us escape unmolested; for he is a man who delights in blood and violence, and were not our Castle a strong one, and defended by brave hearts and willing hands, it is my belief that he would long ago have attacked it, and carried off all he could find of value within. My advice, therefore, is that we put spurs to our horses, and place as great a distance as we can as soon as possible between him and ourselves. Hold on, little Platter, away we go!”
“Your advice is good, Hans,” said Eric, as he urged on his steed. It was likely to be of little avail, however, for at that instant the clatter of horses’ hoofs was heard, and looking round they saw that half-a-dozen of the Baron’s retainers were spurring after them. This, of course, only made Eric and his attendant more anxious than ever to escape. Their horses were good ones, and they might still distance their pursuers.
“Let me drop, kind sir,” exclaimed little Platter; “I am only delaying you, and it little matters if I fall into the Baron’s hands; I am not worth killing!”
Hans laughed, and answered, “You would break your limbs if I let you go, and your weight is but as that of a feather to my old steed Schwartz. Hold on boy—hold on! We have promised to protect you, and we are not the people to cast you off at the first sign of danger.”
They galloped on as fast as their steeds could put feet to the ground; but they had already performed a good day’s journey, and were somewhat tired. Their pursuers’ horses, on the contrary, were fresh, it seemed, and when Hans looked over his shoulder, he saw at once that they were gaining on them. Still he was not a man to give in without an effort. “We’ll try it on a little longer, my young master, and then face about and show them the edges of our swords. Maybe, like bullies in general, they are cowards, and if we put on a bold front, they will make off.” This counsel was too good not to be followed. Still the Baron’s retainers were gaining on them. A wood was on either side. They might dash into it, and make their escape, but that was not then a mode of proceeding to suit Eric’s taste. “Now then we’ll do as you suggest, Hans,” he exclaimed. Pulling up their steeds, they turned sharply round and drew their swords. This, however, did not produce the effect they had hoped. They now saw, indeed, that the remainder of the band were coming up. At this moment little Platter let himself slip from behind Hans to the ground, saying, as he did so, “I can be of no service to you here; but I can, maybe, if I get away.”
Before the horsemen came up he had darted into the wood, where, had they thought it worth while searching, they would have had no little difficulty in finding him.
“There is no use fighting, I fear, my young master,” said Hans, unwillingly sheathing his sword.
“We are outnumbered, and it will only be giving our foes an excuse for slaying us should we attempt to resist them.”
Eric, seeing the wisdom of the old soldier’s advice, likewise returned his sword into the scabbard. When the Baron’s retainers came and surrounded them, he demanded, in a firm voice, what they required.
“We are to conduct you to our lord. He will question you as he thinks fit,” answered one of the men, seizing Eric’s bridle. Another took hold of Hans’ bridle, and, with a couple of men on either side of them, they were conducted along the road.