“And you are lonely, and have sought for him in vain?” Another whine. “And he is in peril, and war rages round the Wartburg?”
The wolf stood waiting, wagging assent with his tail. Then Martha changed her voice. “Hark, Harun, we must find the little lady.” He gave back a bark. “You must show me the way. You must sniff at this.” And she held to his muzzle something white. “Do you understand? Yes?” for Harun’s bark was knowing now. “You will lead the way; I will follow. We will find the little lady together.”
Well that Martha had the airy elves or some other potent sprites to aid. Over thorn and bush, over dale and hillock, led Harun, now swift, now slow. Once he missed the scent, and whined hard till he found it. When he reached the spot where Agnes had cried out the former night he stopped; but Martha would not let him stay. Weariness, darkness,—what were they to fright her? Then he found the way to the deserted garden, just as the first glimmer of pale dawn spread over the Thuringerwald, and presently Harun held his mouth close to the ground, and gave a little cry different from any before.
“Another in the forest? Some one has joined the little lady? It is so?”
Thus Martha; and Harun answered with another cry. Then he shambled off so rapidly, that his comrade, swift and cat-footed as she was, might scarce keep up with him. Now the grey dawn burst into red gold, and the gold turned into fire. Now the birdsong woke in the forest, and the strong breeze sank to a dreamy whisper, as if to lull to the last fond sleep ere the waking. The great beech avenues spread off into dimming vistas, and through their midst peered out the purple-breasted hills. But Witch Martha only looked before her keenly, and said within her sly old breast:—
“As I feared,—to the Rothenstein and the hold of Fritz the Masterless. What now is best? Back to the Lord Graf, and ask him for men? But in that time there is room for many a deed.”
Hereupon Zodok shook his glossy wings and cried:—
“Good Christians, look out!
The Devil’s about!”
“Ay,” quoth his mistress; “for Fritz is no small devil, and Dame Gerda is one greater,—the less cause to leave a dove inside their cage.”