But Gerda had only a hoarse laugh.
“Pray for her soul if you will! One must live; and I will not see so much good silver glide out of my fingers vainly!”
Therefore her spouse reluctantly consented, and presently Wolf had his orders, and went away slyly northwards toward Eisenach.
Agnes was left in company with the girls. They gave her venison, and let her share the broth, which they all dipped with wooden spoons out of a great earthen pot. Her new acquaintances were decently respectful, although coarse enough in speech and life, to make their poor guest plagued indeed; but she needed little hinting that they were no friends, and that any attempt at flight would be hindered. The greenwood was still about Agnes; but it was only a hateful prison now, not an enchanted realm of cousins to the angels, as it was around the Dragon’s Dale. Late in the afternoon Fritz came in with a long face.
“Men and hounds are out in the forest. They are beating up all the coverts. Ulrich has ordered a boar hunt. We must lie close.”
“‘Back to witch Martha; back! Fly fast, as you love me.’”
So Agnes perforce, crouched with the rest, in a cavern up the rock-slope, until the clear hunting-horns died away in the distance, and Gerda began to thank the saints. As the gloaming fell, Wolf returned, and whispered to his mother that the Hebrew would set forth at dawn, and would be glad to haggle. Agnes did not hear the words, but she saw the glint in Dame Gerda’s eye, and a cold shiver ran down her spine. The vagueness of her dread redoubled all the terrors, and hating all the rangers’ loathsome company, Agnes wandered out a little way across the narrow meadow before the cave-hut. Wolf watched narrowly, but she did not try to flee away. Seated upon a stump she was watching the play of rosy light upon the scarred face of the Rothenstein,—when a whir of wings sounded, and whisk! something alighted upon her shoulder, then a voice, but not human:—
“Ho, he! Never fear!
I’m Satan! I’m here!”