"Beautiful Regina, why do your eyes flash fire at the thought. You are, yourself, so generous and noble, can you not understand my sympathy for a brave and chivalrous foe? The king of Sweden is a hero, well worthy of our supreme admiration, as well as of our great enmity."
"I fail to comprehend you. A heretic!"
"God preserve you from some day seeing him within these walls; you will then understand me much better. Ha! they are now preparing to assault the bridge; they are throwing planks over the destroyed arches. By Heaven, that is courageous!"
"Now, four fell at once!" exclaimed the excited Ketchen.
"I know them well," said Count Fritz, growing more and more agitated by the sounds of the battle and the loud thunder of the cannonade, which made the fortress walls shake. "They are the Scots. There are no finer soldiers in the whole Swedish army; the Scots and Finns are always in the front of the battle."
"Ah! see there, my cousin, the Scots recoil; they dare not try to leap the abyss. That truly requires superhuman courage. Twenty-four feet underneath the planks rushes the flood."
"Two young officers dash out on the planks."
"They are the youthful brothers Ramsay. I recognise them by their blue scarves. They love the same lady, and both sport her colours, without loving each other any the less."
"Oh God, guard them! Ah, Holy Virgin, this is fearful!" and Ketchen hid her face in her apron.
Before the brave and intrepid Scots could reach the centre of the planks, they lost their balance, reeled, and then fell headlong into the river. For a short time they struggled with the flood, but wounded by bullets from the castle, their strength soon failed them, and their heavy armour made them sink in the waters; another moment, and these gallant youths sank to rise no more.