With some difficulty, for his high boots were ill adapted to such work, he climbed the tree, got on to the wall, and dropped down. He was in large park-like grounds. Guided by a light in a window, he ran to the house. The door was closed. After hesitating for a moment he ran along and, soon coming, as he expected, to an open window, he at once climbed through it. A door was open and, passing on, he entered a large hall in which a light was burning.

Pausing to listen now, he heard voices upstairs and, holding a pistol in each hand and his drawn sword in his teeth, he lightly ascended the stairs. On the landing two men lay dead. Light was issuing from a half-closed door and, noiselessly approaching it, he looked in.

It was a small room. At the end stood eight or ten scared women, huddled together; while a soldier, with a pistol in one hand and a sword in the other, stood sentry over them. These were evidently the servants of the chateau, who had been unceremoniously hauled from their beds and gathered there, under a guard, to prevent them from screaming or giving any alarm. As Fergus was equally anxious that no alarm should be given, at present, he retired quietly.

A pair of double doors faced the top of the staircase. This was evidently the grand reception room and, listening intently, he could hear a murmur of voices inside. Turning the handle and throwing them suddenly open, he entered.

Upon the floor lay the body of a gentleman. A lady, pale as death and in a half-fainting condition, leant back in a settee; while a girl of thirteen or fourteen lay on a couch, with bound hands and a handkerchief fastened across her mouth.

Three soldiers were engaged in examining the contents of a large coffer of jewels. As the door opened they turned round and, on seeing a solitary officer, sprang forward with terrible oaths. Fergus shot one of them as they did so, dropped the pistol, and seized his sword. Both men fired. Fergus felt a stinging sensation in his left arm, and the pistol held in that hand dropped to the ground.

Confident in his swordsmanship, he awaited the onslaught of the two marauders. The swords clashed, and at the second pass one of them fell back, run through the body. The other, shouting for aid, stood on the defensive. Fergus heard the rush of heavy steps coming down the staircase and, just as three other men rushed into the room, he almost clove his opponent's head in two, with a tremendous blow from his claymore.



Two of the newcomers fired their pistols hastily—both missed—then rushed at him with their swords; and as he was hotly engaged with them the third, who was the sentry who had been placed over the women, advanced slowly, with his pistol pointed, with the intention of making sure of his aim. He paused close to the combatants, waiting for an opportunity to fire between the shifting figures of his comrades; when a white figure, after peering in at the door, ran swiftly forward and threw herself on his back, hurling him forward to the ground, his pistol exploding as he fell.

One of the others started back at the sound, and as he did so Fergus ran him through the body. He then attacked his remaining opponent, and after a few passes laid him dead beside his comrade. Picking up his own fallen pistol, Fergus blew out the brains of the soldier, who was struggling to free himself from the girl's weight, and then helped her to her feet.

"Well done, my brave girl!" he said. "You have saved my life. Now run and tell those wenches to stop screaming, and to come and help their mistress. These scoundrels are all killed, and there is nothing more for them to be alarmed at."

Then he ran to the girl on the sofa, cut her cords with a dagger, and freed her from the gag. As he did so, she leapt up and ran to her mother's side; while Fergus, kneeling by the gentleman who had fallen before he had entered, turned him over and, laying his ear over his heart, listened intently.

"He is alive," he said. "His heart beats, but faintly. Tell the maids to fetch some cordial."

The women were coming in now, some crying hysterically, some shrieking afresh at the sight of the bodies that were strewn about the room.

"Silence!" Fergus shouted sternly. "Now, while one runs to fetch some cordial, do three others come here, and aid me to lift your master gently on to this couch."

The maid who had overthrown the soldier at once came forward to his assistance.

"Now, Truchen and Lisa," the young girl said, stamping her foot, "come at once.

"Do you, Caroline, run and fetch the stand of cordials from the dining room."

The two women approached timidly.

"Now," Fergus said, "get your arm under his shoulders, on your side, and I will do the same. One of you others support his head when we lift, the other take his feet."

So, gently he was raised and laid on the couch. By the time this was done, the woman returned with a bottle of spirits.

"Now," he said, "water and a glass."

The young girl ran and fetched a carafe of water and a tumbler, standing on a table by the wall. Her hands shook as she handed it to Fergus.

"Are you sure that he is not dead, sir?" she asked, in a hushed voice.

"Quite sure. I fear that he is grievously wounded, but he certainly lives. Now, get another glass and put some spirits in and fill it up with water, and make your mother drink it, as soon as you have roused her from her faint."

Fergus now gave all his attention to the wounded man, poured two or three spoonfuls of strong spirits and water between his lips, and then proceeded to examine his wounds. He had three. One was a very severe cut upon the shoulder. His left arm had been broken by a pistol bullet, and he had a dangerous sword thrust in the body.

Under Fergus' direction the servant had cut off the doublet and, after pouring some more spirits down the wounded man's throat, he bade one of the other women fetch him some soft linen, and a sheet. When these arrived he made a pad of the linen, and bound it over the wounded man's shoulder with some strips torn from the sheet. Then he sent for some straight strips of wood, cut them to the right length, wrapped some linen round them and, straightening the arm, applied them to it and, with the assistance of the girl, bandaged it firmly. Then he placed a pad of linen over the wound in the body, and passed bandages round and round.

"Well done!" he said to his assistant. "You are a stout girl, and a brave one."

Then he turned to the others, who were crowded round their mistress.

"Stand back," he said, "and throw open the window and let the air come to her. That will do.

"The young lady and this girl will be enough, now. Do the rest of you run off and get some clothes on."

"She has opened her eyes once, sir."

"She will come round directly, young lady. Pour a spoonful or two from this glass between her lips. It is stronger than that you have in your hand. She has had a terrible shock, but as soon as she hears that your father is alive, it will do more for her than all our services."

"Will he live, sir?"

"That I cannot say for certain, but I have great hopes that he will do so. However, I will send a surgeon out, as soon as I get to the city."

The lady was longer in her swoon than Fergus had expected, and the servants had returned before she opened her eyes.

"Now," he said, "do four of you lend me your assistance. It would be well to carry this sofa with your master into the next room; and then we will take your mistress in there, too, so that she will be spared seeing these ruffians scattered about, when she comes to herself."

The doors leading to the adjoining apartment were opened, candles lighted there, and the wounded man carried in on his sofa.

"And now for your mistress. It will be easier to lift her out of the chair, and carry her in bodily."

This he did, with the assistance of two of the servants.

"Now," he said to the young girl, "do you stay by her, my brave maid. I think she will recover in a minute or two. Her eyelids moved as I brought her in. I will look round and see about things.

"Were these the only two men in the house?" he asked the other women, as he joined them on the landing.

"No, sir. There were six men. The other four have gone to bed, but the two outside always waited up till the count and countess retired."

"Where are their rooms?" he asked, taking a candle.

One of the women led him upstairs. As he expected, he found the four men lying dead. One had apparently leapt up as the door was opened, and the other three had been killed in their beds.

"Where can I get help from?"

"There are the men at the stables. It is at the back of the house, three or four hundred yards away."

"Well, take one of the other women with you, and go and rouse them. Tell them to dress and come here, at once."

He now went down to the gate, undid the fastening, and then led his horse up to the house. In a few minutes the stablemen arrived. He ordered them to carry the bodies of the six marauders out, and lay them in front of the house. When they had done so, they were to take those of the servants and place them in an outhouse. Then he went upstairs again.

"The countess has recovered, sir," one of the women said.

"Tell her that I will send one of the army surgeons down, at once. But first, bandage my arm. It is but a flesh wound, I know; but I am feeling faint, and am sure that it is keeping on bleeding.

"Here, my girl," he said to the one who had before assisted, "I can trust to you not to faint."

With her assistance he took off his coat, the arm of which was saturated with blood.

"You had better cut off the sleeve of the shirt," he said.

This was done, and the nature of the wound was seen. A ball had ploughed through the flesh three inches below the shoulder, inflicting a gaping but not serious wound.

"It is lucky that it was not the inside of the arm," he said to the girl, as she bandaged it up; "for had it been, I should have bled to death in a very few minutes.

"Has the count opened his eyes yet?"

"No, sir. He is lying just as he was."

"What is the gentleman's name?"

"Count Eulenfurst."

"You had better give me a draught of wine, before I start. I feel shaken, and it is possible that riding may set my wound bleeding again."

Having drunk a goblet of wine, Fergus went down and mounted his horse. As he did so, he said to one of the men:

"Take a lantern, and go down to the spot where the road hither turns off from the main road. A surgeon will be here in half an hour, or perhaps in twenty minutes. He will be on the lookout for you and your lantern."

Events had passed quickly, and the church bell chimed a quarter to eleven as he rode through the streets of Dresden. In three minutes he drew up at the entrance to the royal quarters. As he dismounted, Karl came out.

"Keep the horse here, Karl," he said. "It may be wanted in a minute or two again."

"Are you hurt, sir?" the man asked as he dismounted, for he saw his face by the light of the torches on each side of the gateway.

"It is only a flesh wound, and of no consequence; but I have lost a good deal of blood."

He made his way up the staircase to the marshal's quarters. He was feeling dizzy and faint, now.

"Is the marshal in his room?" he asked.

"He is in, sir, but—"

"I would speak to him immediately. 'Tis a most urgent matter."

The servant went in, a moment later held the door open, and said:

"Will you enter, sir?"

Fergus entered, and made the usual formal salute to the marshal. Two or three other officers were in the room, but he did not heed who they were, nor hear the exclamations of surprise that broke out at his appearance.

"I beg to report, sir, that the house of the Count Eulenfurst has been attacked by marauders, belonging to one of the Pomeranian regiments. The count is desperately wounded, and I pray that a surgeon may be sent instantly to his aid. The house stands back from the road, about half a mile from the north gate. A man with a lantern will be standing in the road to guide him to it. My horse is at the door below, in readiness to take him. I pray you to allow me to retire."

He swayed and would have fallen, had not the marshal and one of the others present caught him, and laid him down on a couch.

"He is wounded, marshal," the other officer said. "This sleeve is saturated with blood."

The marshal raised his voice, and called an attendant:

"Run to the quarters of staff surgeon Schmidt, and ask him to come here immediately, and to bring another of his staff with him, if there is one in."

In two minutes the king's chief surgeon entered, followed by another of his staff.

"First look to the wound of Cornet Drummond," the marshal said. "It is in the arm, and I trust that he has only fainted from loss of blood."

The surgeons examined the wound.

"It is in no way serious, marshal. As you say, he has fainted from loss of blood. He must have neglected it for some time. Had it been bandaged at once, it would only have had the consequence of disabling his arm for a fortnight or so."

The assistant had already hurried away to get lint and bandages. Another voice now spoke.

"Surgeon Schmidt, you will please at once mount Mr. Drummond's horse, which is standing at the door. Ride out through the north gate. When you have gone about half a mile you will see a man with a lantern. He will lead you to the house of Count Eulenfurst, who has been grievously wounded by some marauders. Surgeon Morfen will follow you, as soon as he has bandaged Mr. Drummond's wounds. There may be more wounded there who may need your care.

"Major Armfeldt, will you order a horse to be brought round at once for the surgeon, then hurry to the barracks. Order the colonel to turn out a troop of horse instantly, and let him scour the country between the north gate and the camp, and arrest every straggler he comes across."



Chapter 4: Promotion.

As soon as the bandage was applied and the flow of blood ceased, a few spoonfuls of wine were poured down the patient's throat. It was not long before he opened his eyes and struggled into a sitting position.

"I beg pardon, sir," he said faintly, as his eyes fell on the marshal, who was standing just in front of him. "I am sorry that I came into your apartments in this state, but it seemed to me—"

"You did quite right, sir," said a sharp voice that he at once recognized, while the speaker put his hand upon his shoulder, to prevent him from trying to rise. "You were quite right to bring the news here at once of this outrage; which, by heavens, shall be punished as it deserves. Now drink a cup of wine, and then perhaps you will be able to tell us a little more about it. Now don't be in a hurry, but obey my orders."

Fergus drank off the wine; then, after waiting a minute or two, said:

"Count Eulenfurst is sorely wounded, sire, but I cannot say whether mortally or not. When I came away, he was still lying insensible. His wife and daughter are, happily, uninjured."

"Was anyone else hurt?"

"Yes, sire, the six menservants who were sleeping in the house were all killed—four in their beds, two while hastening from below to assist their master."

The king gave an exclamation of fury.

"You said these men belonged to a Pomeranian regiment. Had they left before you got there? But I suppose not, or else you would not have been wounded. How was it that you heard of the attack?"

"I had carried a despatch from the marshal to the camp, sire, and was on my way back when I heard a pistol shot. The sound was faint, for it came from a house a quarter of a mile away, and was fired indoors; but the night was still, and fortunately some of the windows were open. Thinking that some evil work was being done, I rode straight for it, climbed the wall and, making my way on foot to the house, happily arrived in time."

"You saw the fellows, then? How was it that they suffered you to escape with your life? They must have known that your evidence would hang them all."

"There were but six of them, sire; and they will need no hanging, for they are all disposed of. Though had it not been for the assistance of a brave servant maid, who threw herself upon the back of one of them, my career would certainly have been terminated."

"But who had you with you to help you?" the king asked.

"I had no one but the maid, sire."

"Do you mean to say, Mr. Drummond, that with your own hand you slew the whole of the six villains?"

"That was so, sire; but in respect to the one thrown down by the girl, I had but to blow out his brains before he could gain his feet."

"Can you give us the particulars?" the king asked quietly. "If you do not feel equal to it, we will wait till morning."

"I can tell you now, sire. I am feeling better and stronger."

And he related the incidents of the fight.

"One with his pistol, Keith," the king said. "Four with his sword, after his left hand was disabled, to say nothing of the sixth.

"That is not a bad beginning for this aide-de-camp, gentlemen."

"No, indeed, sire. It is a most gallant deed, though it was well for him that he was able to dispose of the first three before the others appeared on the scene."

"It was a most gallant action, indeed," the king repeated; and a hearty assent was given by the general officers standing round.

"I congratulate you on your aide-de-camp, Keith," he went on. "A man capable of killing, single handed, six of my Pomeranians is a treasure. Do you see that his commission as lieutenant is given me tomorrow to sign.

"No, sit still, young sir. It is I who have to thank you, for so promptly punishing these marauders, who would have brought disgrace upon my army; and not you who have to thank me. Now, be off to your bed."

Two of the attendants were called in, and these assisted Fergus, who was almost too weak to stand, to the apartment that he shared with Lindsay. Keith himself accompanied them. Lindsay leapt out of bed as they entered.

"Don't ask any questions, Lindsay," the marshal said. "Drummond has performed a very gallant action, and has been wounded and, as you see, can scarce stand from loss of blood. He will be asleep as soon as he lies down. You will hear all about it, in the morning."

The marshal then returned to his apartment. The king was on the point of leaving.

"I have left orders," he said, "that as soon as either of the surgeons returns, I am to be wakened and informed of the state of Count Eulenfurst. He is a nobleman of distinction and character; though, I believe, in no great favour at the court here since he resigned his seat on the council, because he disapproved of the resources of the state being wasted in extravagance, instead of being spent in maintaining the army in proper condition. Should he die, it will cause an extremely bad impression throughout Saxony."

At daybreak the next morning, finding that the surgeons had not returned, Keith despatched an officer to request them to furnish him, at once, with a written report of the state of the count. He returned in three-quarters of an hour, saying that the count had just recovered consciousness; that two of his wounds were serious, and the other very grave; but that having probed it, they were of opinion that it might not prove fatal. The countess was completely prostrated, and had gone from one fainting fit into another, and required more attention than her husband. The rest of the household were uninjured.

Lindsay got up quietly and dressed without awaking Fergus. He was disappointed at a despatch being at once handed to him to carry to the Prince of Brunswick's army, which was ten miles away; and was therefore obliged to mount and ride off, without obtaining any news whatever as to the nature of Drummond's adventure. As he passed through the camp of the Pomeranians, he saw the bodies of six soldiers swinging from the bough of a tree, close to the camp. He rode a little out of his way to discover the cause of this strange spectacle. In front of them was erected a large placard of canvas, with the words painted upon it:

"Marauders killed in the commission of crime, and their bodies hung by order of the king, as a lesson to anyone who ventures to break the law against plundering."

Then he rode on his way, and did not return until one o'clock. The marshal was occupied. He therefore simply handed in the reply to the despatch that he had carried, and immediately retired.

"Is Mr. Drummond up?" he asked one of the attendants.

"He is still in his room, sir. His servant is with him, and he is taking food."

He went straight to the room. Fergus was sitting up in a chair, eating a basin of strong chicken broth.

"This is a nice hour to be breakfasting, Lindsay," he said with a smile. "I feel quite ashamed of myself, I can tell you; but I am under orders. The doctor came here half an hour ago. I had just woke and got out of bed, and was going to dress, when he told me that I was not to do so. I might sit up to take breakfast, but was to keep perfectly quiet for the rest of the day. He said I only needed feeding up, that he would send me some strong broth, and three hours later I was to have some soup and a pint of Burgundy; and that if I obeyed his instructions, and ate and drank well, I should be able to leave my room tomorrow; though of course, I should not be fit for active service till my arm began to heal."

"But what is it all about, Drummond? I was sent off to Brunswick's camp, as soon as I got up, and have heard nothing about it; and the marshal forbade me to speak to you, when you were brought in last night. He merely said that you had done a very gallant action."

"There was nothing very gallant in it, Lindsay; but it turned out very fortunate."

Then he gave a very brief account of the previous evening's events.

"Well I should call that a gallant action, Drummond, if you don't. It is no joke for one man to tackle six, and those not ordinary marauders but Pomeranian soldiers. Of course, it was somewhat lucky that you had rid yourself of three of them, before the other three entered the room; and had it not been, as you say, for that girl, things might have turned out differently. Still, that does not affect the matter. It was a gallant business.

"What happened when you came in?"

"I don't know much about what happened. At first I made some sort of report to the marshal, and then I believe I fainted. When I came to, I found that they had bandaged up my shoulder, and poured some wine down my throat. I felt very shaky at first, but I know that I drank some wine, and was then able to give some sort of account of what had happened. The king was there, then, and asked me questions; but whether or not he was there, at first, I cannot say. I have a vague idea that he told the marshal, too, that he promoted me; but I am not quite sure about that, nor do I know how I got here."

"Well, if you are not mistaken about your step, I congratulate you most heartily. It is seldom, indeed, that anyone gains one in six weeks after his first appointment. I thought myself lucky, indeed, in getting it after serving only two years and a half; but I got it simply on nomination as one of the marshal's aides-de-camp. It is customary to get promotion, on such appointment, if there has been two or three years' previous service.

"Well, you have drawn the first blood in this campaign, Drummond; and have not been long in giving very striking proof that your month's hard work in the fencing school has not been thrown away."

The conversation was broken off by the entry of the marshal, himself.

"Pooh, pooh, Fergus!" he said, as the latter rose, "there is no occasion for saluting in a bedroom. I am glad to see you looking so much better. You could not have looked more ghastly, when you came in yesterday evening, if you had been your own wraith.

"There, lad," he said, handing him a parchment. "It is not usual to have a new commission on promotion, but the king told me that he had had it done, in the present case, in order that you might have a record of the exploit for which you have been promoted. You will see it is set down inside that, although but six weeks in service, you were promoted to the rank of lieutenant for a deed of extraordinary gallantry. You had attacked and killed, with your own hand, six marauding soldiers; who had entered the chateau of Count Eulenfurst, well-nigh murdered the count, killed six of his servants, and were occupied in plundering the house. In token of his thankfulness, that the life of so distinguished and enlightened a nobleman had been saved by you; as well as of approbation for the gallantry of your conduct, his majesty promoted you to the rank of lieutenant.

"You should keep that paper, Fergus, and pass it down to your descendants, as an heirloom. I congratulate you, my boy, with all my heart; and feel some satisfaction on my own account, for such an action as this shows those who are inclined to grumble, at what they may consider the favour shown to Scotchmen, that at any rate the favour is not misplaced. A general order to the army has been issued this morning saying that, some scoundrels, having disgraced their uniform and brought discredit upon the army, by a murderous and wicked attack upon the house of Count Eulenfurst, the king reiterates and confirms his previous order that any man caught when engaged in pillaging, or upon whose person any stolen goods are found, will be summarily hung by the provost marshal, or by any general officer before whom he may be brought.

"The king himself has ridden to the count's chateau, this morning, to make personal inquiries into his state, and to express his deep regret at the outrage that has taken place. It is a politic action, as well as a kind one. Of course, the event has occasioned great excitement in the city."

"And may I ask how the count is going on, sir?"

"The last report of the surgeons is a favourable one. He has partly recovered consciousness, and at any rate recognizes his daughter, who has divided her time between his bedside and her mother's. The latter has fallen into a deep sleep of exhaustion; but will, I doubt not, recover. The girl came down into the hall when the king called. She bore herself well, they tell me, and would have retained her composure, had it not been for the king himself. She came down the grand staircase, with four of her maids behind her—for a notice had been sent, half an hour before of his coming—prepared, no doubt, to meet a stiff and haughty king; but though Frederick can be every inch a king, when he chooses, there is, as you know, no kinder-hearted man alive.

"He went forward bare-headed to meet her and, as she stopped and curtsied low, he took her two hands and said:

"'My poor child, I am sorry, more sorry than I can tell you, for what has happened; and hope with all my heart that your father, whom all respect and honour, will not be taken from you. No doubt you look upon me as an enemy; but although compelled to come here, because your king is leagued with those who intend to destroy me and my country, I bear no ill will to the people; and have given the strictest orders that my soldiers shall, in all respects, treat them as firm friends. But unfortunately, there are scoundrels everywhere. These men have been punished as they deserved, and the whole army will join with me in deep regret at what has happened, and in the fervent hope that your father's life will be spared. I grieve, too, to hear that the countess, your mother, has suffered so greatly from the shock; and hope soon to be able to express to her, in person, the regret I feel for what has taken place.'

"The kindness of his tone, in saying all this, broke her down more than the words of the king. He saw that she was unable to speak.

"'There, there, child,' he said. 'I know what you are feeling, and that you are longing to go upstairs again, so I will say goodbye. Keep up a brave heart. The surgeons have every hope that your father will recover. And believe that you will always have a friend in Frederick of Prussia.'

"He kissed her on the cheek, and then turned and left the hall, followed by his staff."

Three days later the doctors were able to say confidently that, unless some change occurred for the worse, they believed the count would recover. On the fourth day, Fergus was sufficiently well to mount his horse. The countess and her daughter had repeatedly asked after him, and expressed their desire that he would come over, as soon as he was well enough to do so.

One of the aides-de-camp had gone over, twice a day, to inquire as to the progress the count was making. A guard had been placed at the gate, and an officer stationed there to receive the names of the stream of visitors from the city, and to inform them that the count was making satisfactory progress. By the doctor's orders, even the count's most intimate friends were refused admission, as absolute quiet was needed.

Fergus dismounted at the gate, and walked up to the house. The maid who opened the door recognized him at once.

"Will you come in, sir?" she said, with a beaming face. "I will tell the young countess you are here; and she will, I am sure, see you."

A minute later, the girl ran down the stairs. As she came forward she stopped, with sudden shyness. Absorbed in her anxiety for her father and mother, she had taken but little heed of the appearance of the officer who had saved them. That he was kind as well as brave she was sure for, although he had scarce spoken to her, the gentleness with which he had moved her father and her mother from the bloodstained room, and the promptness and decision with which he had given his orders, had inspired her with absolute confidence in him. She had a vague idea that he was young, but his face, flecked here and there with blood, had left but a faint impression upon her memory; and when she saw the young officer, in his spotless and imposing uniform, she almost felt that there must be some mistake.

"Are you Lieutenant Drummond, sir?" she asked timidly.

"I am, countess."

"Was it really you who saved us, the other night?"

"I had that good fortune," he said with a smile.

She took the hand he held out, wonderingly, and then suddenly burst into tears.

"Oh, sir," she said, "is it possible that you, who look so young, can be the one who came to our assistance, and killed those six evil men? It seems impossible.

"I have been so unhappy, since. I did not know that you were wounded until the maids told me, afterwards. I had never even asked. I let you go, without one word of thanks for all that you have done for us. What must you have thought of me?"

"I thought that you were a very courageous girl," Fergus said earnestly; "and that, after what you had gone through, the sight of your father as you believed dying, and your mother in such a state, you were wonderfully calm and composed. It would have been strange, indeed, had you thought of anything else at such a time."

"You are very good to say so, sir; but when I heard, from the surgeons you sent, that you had fainted from loss of blood after delivering your message, I felt that I should never forgive myself. You had thought so much of us, and not of yourself. You had gone about seeing to our comfort, and giving orders and arranging everything, and all the time you yourself needed aid."

"The wound was a mere trifle," he said, "and I scarce gave it a thought, myself, until I began to feel faint from loss of blood. I can assure you that the thought that you were ungrateful has never once entered my head."

"And now, will you please come up to see my mother, sir. She will be most anxiously expecting you."

They went upstairs together and, turning to the right on the top of the stairs, entered a pretty apartment that was evidently the countess's boudoir.

"This is our preserver, mother," the girl said, as she entered.

The countess, who was advancing towards the door, stopped in surprise. She had been able, from her daughter, to gain no idea of the age of their rescuer; but the maids had all asserted that he was quite young. As he was, for so the surgeons had told her, one of Marshal Keith's aides-de-camp, she had pictured to herself a fierce soldier; and the sight of this youth, with his smooth pleasant face, surprised her, indeed.

"Yes, mother, it is himself," the girl said. "I was as surprised as you are."

"I have no words to thank you, sir, for the most inestimable service which you have rendered us," the countess said warmly, as she held out her hand. "Assuredly my husband would have died, had aid been delayed but a few minutes. As to my daughter and myself, they would probably have killed us, to prevent our ever recognizing or giving evidence against them. They only spared our lives, for a time, in order to learn where our jewels were kept. This was but a comparative trifle, though the jewels are precious, and there are none more valuable in Saxony. I have no doubt that after stripping the house of its valuables they would have buried them, intending some day to recover them; and would then have fired the house, in order to conceal all evidence of the crime that had been committed. It seemed to me wonderful, before, that one man should, single handed, have attacked and slain them; but now that I see you, it seems almost a miracle that you performed in our favour."

"It was no great feat, madam. I have the good fortune to be a fair swordsman; and soldiers, although they may know their military drill, have little chance with one who can use his weapon well. Then, too, I had fortunately but three to deal with at a time; and even then, I should not have come off victorious had it not been for the courage of the maid, who ran boldly in, sprang on the back of one, and threw him to the ground, while he was waiting to get a steady aim at me with his pistol. I assuredly owe my life to her."

"The King of Prussia left twenty gold crowns for her, when he was here, saying that it was payment for saving the life of one of his officers; and you may be sure that we shall not be ungrateful to her. Your death would have involved that of my husband, and us. The king also ordered that inquiry should be made as to whether our men who were killed had families dependent upon them; and that if so, pensions were to be given to these, as their loss had been occasioned by the evil deeds of some of his soldiers. It was very thoughtful and kind, and my daughter seems quite to have fallen in love with him.

"I hope that in a few days my husband will be able to see you. He does not know that you are here. If he did, I am sure that he would wish to see you now; but the surgeons have insisted so strongly on absolute quiet, that I dare not let him hear of your coming."

"I am delighted to learn that he is going on so well, madame. I sincerely trust that he will not long remain an invalid."

"I suppose you would not have recognized me?" the countess asked.

"I should not, indeed. Of course, I could do nothing to aid you, and was chiefly occupied by the count. But indeed, you were then so pale that I might well be excused for not knowing you again."

The countess was a very handsome woman, of some seven or eight and thirty, with a noble figure and a gracious air; and bore no resemblance to the almost distraught woman, with her hair falling over her face, whom he had seen before.

"I am not a coward, Mr. Drummond," she said, "and when those villains first ran in and attacked my husband, I struggled desperately with the two who seized me; until I saw him drop, as I believed, dead. Then my strength suddenly left me, and I should have fallen to the ground, had the men not thrown me back into the chair. I have a vague recollection of seeing Thirza, who had retired for the night but a minute or two previously, carried in bound and gagged. They asked me several questions, but I could not reply; and I think they learned from the frightened servants where the family jewels were kept. The clashing of swords and the firing of pistols roused me a little, and after it was all over, and I heard you say that my husband was still living, my heart gave one bound, and I knew nothing more of what happened until next day."

After chatting for a short time longer Fergus took his leave, well pleased to have got through a visit he had somewhat dreaded.

The king remained for nearly a month at Dresden, engaged in carrying on negotiations with the Elector. By this delay he lost most of the advantages that his sudden movement had given him; but he was most anxious to detach Saxony and Poland from the confederacy against him, as he would then be able to turn his attention wholly to Austria, aided by the Saxons, while the Poles would aid his army in the east to keep the Russians in check. The Elector of Saxony—who was also King of Poland—however, was only negotiating in order to give time for Austria to gather an army in Bohemia; and so to relieve the Saxons, who were watched by the eastern column, which had crossed the defiles into Bohemia and taken post near Koeniggraetz; while that of Prince Maurice of Brunswick pushed forward farther, to threaten their line of retreat from the west.

The king at last became convinced that the King of Poland was but trifling with him, and in the last week of September started to take the command of the centre, which was facing the entrance to the defile, at Pirna. Marshal Keith had been sent, a week after Fergus was wounded, to assume the command of the western column, hitherto commanded by Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick.

Fergus remained behind for ten days, at the end of which time he felt perfectly fit for service again. He still carried his arm in a sling, but a generous diet and good wine had filled his veins again, and upon the day the king left he rode with Karl to rejoin the marshal.

He had been several times over to the chateau, and had on the last occasion seen the count; who, although still terribly weak, was now out of danger, and able to sit on a couch, propped up by pillows. His thanks were as earnest as those of the countess had been and, having heard that Fergus was to start on the following morning to join the army on the frontier, he said to him:

"There is no saying how far your king may carry his arms, nor where you may find yourself. The countess will, therefore, write letters addressed to intimate friends at various large towns; telling them that you have placed us under a vast obligation, and praying them to do, for our sake, all in their power for you, under whatever circumstances you may arrive there. She will write them on small pieces of paper, each with its name and address on the back, so that they will make a small and compact packet, not much bigger than an ordinary letter.

"I trust that when you return to Dresden, lieutenant, I shall be able, myself, to do my best to prove my gratitude for your services."

After taking leave of the count, his wife, and daughter, Fergus rode back to the royal quarters. As Karl took his horse, he said:

"Herr lieutenant, I know not how we are going to manage."

"In what way, Karl?"

"Two magnificent horses, complete with saddlery, holsters, and pistols, arrived here half an hour since. The man who brought them said they were from Count Eulenfurst, and handed me this note:

"'Pray accept the horses we send you, as a feeble token of our gratitude. May they, by their speed and staunchness, carry you unharmed through dangers well nigh as great as those you faced for us.'"

Fergus walked by the side of the soldier as he led the horse round to the stable.

"There, sir," Karl said, pointing to a pair of splendid animals; "they are fit for a king."

"'Tis a noble gift, and indeed, I doubt whether the king himself has such horses in his stables. The question is, what is to be done with them? My present charger is an excellent one and, as a gift of the marshal, I could not part with it. As to the others, it is out of the question that I can take both. It would be altogether contrary to rules. I am entitled to forage for two horses—that is, when forage is to be had.

"Ah! I see what had best be done. Come to my room with me. I will give you a letter to the count."

He wrote as follows:

"Dear Count Eulenfurst,

"I cannot refuse the noble gift that you have made me, and thank you and the countess for it, with all my heart. At present, however, it places me in a difficulty. Aides-de-camp are allowed to take only two horses; indeed, my orderly could not take with him more than one led horse. The animal I have was the gift of Marshal Keith. That being so, you will see that I could not part with it. The only solution, therefore, that occurs to me is to beg you to add to your kindness, by taking care of the one that I send back to you by the bearer, until I return to Dresden; or find means to send for it, in the event of one of the others being killed.

"The only fault with your gifts is that they ought to be kept for state reviews, or grand occasions; for it seems wrong to take such noble creatures into the midst of a heavy fire. I am sure that I shall feel more nervous, lest a ball should injure my horse, than I shall do for my own safety."

When he had folded and sealed this, he handed it to Karl, who had followed shortly after him.

"I am sending back one of the horses, Karl, and asking the count to take care of it for me, until I return or send for it. Do you see any difference between them?"

"It would be hard to pick the best, lieutenant. They both struck me as being perfect in all points—both are four years old."

"Well then, you must take one at random, Karl. Had one been better than the other, I should have left it behind. As it is, take whichever you choose."

"The man who brought them told me, sir, that both were bred on the count's estates; and that he prided himself on having some of the best blood in Europe, both for beauty and stamina. He thought this pair were the pick of the stables."

"I almost wish I could leave them both behind, but I could not do so without hurting the feelings of the count and countess. But they are too good for an aide-de-camp's work."

"I don't think anything can be too good for that, sir. An aide-de-camp wants a horse that will stop at nothing; and sometimes he has to ride for his life, pursued by the enemy's cavalry. You will be the envy of the division, on one of those horses."

Karl returned an hour later with a message from the countess, saying that she could not disturb her husband, who was then resting, but that she understood Mr. Drummond's difficulty, and they should be very glad to take care of the horse for him, until he wanted it.

"You did not see the countess, I suppose, Karl?"

"Yes, sir, I saw her. She had me taken upstairs to her room. She asked if I was your servant, and when I said yes, she told me that she hoped I would take great care of you. I said that was my duty.

"'Nevertheless, do more than your duty,' she said. 'His life is a very precious one to us.

"'Is it not, Thirza?'

"The young lady nodded.

"'Here are five gold crowns for yourself,' she went on, handing me the money. 'They may help to make your bivouac more comfortable.

"'And now,' she said, 'there is something else, but I do not wish you to tell your master.'

"What am I to do, your honour?"

"You had better keep it to yourself, Karl," Fergus laughed. "I daresay I shall hear of it, someday."

"Very well, lieutenant, then that is all there is to report."

The next morning Fergus started early. Two days previously, a Prussian governor had been appointed to Dresden, and three thousand men were left under his command. Similar appointments were also made to all the fortified towns in Saxony; for now that the negotiations were broken off, and the King of Poland had declared finally for the Confederates, Saxony was to be treated as a conquered country. Nevertheless, strict injunctions were given that all cattle, wheat, and other provisions taken for the use of the garrisons, or for storing up in fortresses whence it might be forwarded to the army, were to be paid for; and that any act of pillage or ill treatment was to be most severely punished, as the king was still most anxious to gain the goodwill of the mass of the population.



Chapter 5: Lobositz.

In Dresden itself, the feeling was far from hostile to the invaders. The discontent with the vicious government had been extreme, and the imposts now levied were less onerous than those which had been wasted in profusion and extravagance. The conduct of the troops had been admirable; and in the case of Count Eulenfurst, the personal visit of the king to express his regrets, and his generosity to the families of the servants, had produced a most excellent effect.

As Fergus rode into the camp, mounted on his new acquisition, it at once caught the marshal's eye.

"Why, Fergus," he exclaimed, "have you been robbing the King of Poland's stables? That is a noble animal, indeed."

"It was a present from Count Eulenfurst, marshal," Fergus replied. "He sent me two, but one of them he is going to keep for me until I return; for I could not part with Rollo, who is as good a horse as anyone can wish to ride; and I know his paces."

"You are right, lad, for it is always well to accustom yourself to a horse, before you want to use it in action; but in faith, it will be a pity to ride such a horse as that through the heat of a battle."

"I feel that, sir; but as the count, in his letter with the horses, said that he hoped they would carry me safely through dangers as grave as those I had encountered at his house, I feel that he would be hurt if, on my return, I admitted to him that I had saved it for show occasions."

"You are right," Keith said approvingly; "but that is the more reason that you should accustom yourself to it, before you use it for such work; as horse and rider should be as one on the field of battle and, unless the horse has absolute confidence in its rider, it is very difficult to keep it steady under fire."

"I suppose we shall not see the king for some time, marshal," Fergus said later, as Keith was chatting with him.

"On the contrary, he will be with us tomorrow. He rides today to have another look at the Saxon position, and to give his orders there. He will, tomorrow morning, join us. It is we who are likely to have the first fighting; for the Austrians must come to the relief of the Saxons, who are shut up, as in a trap, by our divisions. They made a great mistake in not retiring, at once, into Bohemia; which they could have done without difficulty, had they lost no time.

"There is no greater mistake than shutting a large force up, either in a fortress or an intrenched camp, unless that fortress is an absolute obstacle to an enemy. This is not the case with Pirna. The mountains can be crossed at many other points and, by leaving five or six thousand men in a strong position at the end of each defile, we could disregard them altogether, and march on southward. They have already been three weeks there, and we believe that they cannot hold out very much longer. However, it is probable that they may be able to do so until an Austrian force comes up, and tries to relieve them.

"From what we hear, two armies have already entered Bohemia, and we may expect that our first battle will not be far distant."

"Do we block the only line of retreat, sir?" Fergus asked.

"No, indeed. We do not absolutely close the direct road, but our position, and that of Marshal Schwerin facing Koeniggraetz, so menaces their line of retreat that they dare not venture from their shelter; and our cavalry render it impossible for any supplies to be thrown in, unless the convoy is supported by an army. There are, we know, paths across the hills by which infantry might effect a passage; but as there is nowhere a place for them to retire to, we should easily overtake them and force them to surrender.

"No, their only hope is in the coming of relief."

A few hours later, the king himself rode in. In the evening, orders were issued that a force of cavalry and infantry were to march at daylight, and that the rest of the army were to follow, two hours later. It was soon known that the king had received news that Marshal Browne—an Irish officer of great distinction, who commanded the Austrian force gathered at Budin, on the Eger—was expecting the arrival of artillery and pontoons from Vienna, in the course of a day or two, and was preparing to cross the river. It was evident, then, that his intention was to relieve the Saxon army, in the first place.

The roads through the defiles were very heavy and difficult, but that afternoon the advance force reached Termitz. Late in the evening the rest of the army arrived there.

A squadron of cavalry had been sent off, as soon as the vanguard arrived, to ascertain the movements of the enemy; and they returned, at ten at night, with information that the Austrians had crossed the Eger that day, and were to encamp at Lobositz. The army at once moved on across the mountains and, after a very difficult and fatiguing march, arrived near Lobositz; and lay down for some hours in the order in which they had marched, taking up their position as soon as it was light.

[Map: Battle of Lobositz]

The infantry were in two lines. Their left was posted on a steep hill known as the Lobosch, part of whose lower slopes extended to the village of Lobositz. A battery, with infantry supports, took post on a hill called Homolka, which commanded the whole plain between the two armies. The centre stretched across the valley between those hills.

On the low hill on which stood the little town, the Austrians had thrown up intrenchments, and posted a very strong artillery force, whose fire would sweep a greater portion of the Prussian position. Except at this point, the ground between the two armies was low and swampy. The Austrian force was greatly superior in numbers, consisting of 72 squadrons of horse, 52 battalions of infantry, and 98 guns; while the Prussians had 55 squadrons, 26 battalions, and 102 guns.

It was evident to both commanders that the village of Lobositz was the decisive point; and indeed, the nature of the ground was such as to render operations almost impossible, in the marshy plain intersected by rivulets, which in many places formed large ponds.

At seven in the morning the Prussian action began by a heavy fire between the left, on the slopes of Lobosch, and 4000 Croats and several battalions of Hungarians, scattered among the vineyards and the stone walls dividing them. A heavy fog covered the whole country and, until a full view could be obtained of the position of the enemy, neither of the commanders deemed it prudent to move.

At twelve o'clock, however, the fog began to clear up. The main body of the Austrians was still invisible; and the king, seeing but a comparatively small force in the plain near Lobositz, thought that this must be the rear guard of the Austrians; who, he imagined, having found the line by which they intended to succour the Saxons occupied in force, had retired, having thrown up batteries and left a strong force at Lobositz, to prevent the Prussians from advancing.

To ascertain this, twenty squadrons of cavalry were ordered to advance; but on doing so, they were received by so tremendous a fire from the batteries of the village, and from others at Sulowitz, another village in the plain on their right, that they fell back with much loss, pursued by the Austrian cavalry. By the time they had resumed their positions behind the infantry, the fog had entirely lifted; and the king and Marshal Keith obtained a full view of the Austrian position, from the spot where they had stationed themselves on the hill. They agreed that no attack could be made against the enemy's centre or left, and that they could be assailed only on their right.

The troops on the Lobosch Hill were, therefore, largely reinforced; and the whole army advanced, inclining towards the left so as to attack Lobositz from the side of the plain, as well as from that of the mountain. A tremendous artillery fire, from the guns on the hills, heralded the advance.

The troops on the Lobosch Hill made their way forward rapidly. The ground was so steep that they commanded a view down into the vineyard, and their fire was so heavy that the Croats and Hungarians fell, as fast as they raised their heads above the stone walls to fire; and although General Browne reinforced them by some of the best Austrian infantry, they were rapidly driven down towards Lobositz. At the foot of the hill they were supported by several more battalions, brought from the Austrian centre. General Lacy, who commanded these, was wounded.

The Prussians halted at the foot of the slope and were reformed; having fallen into some disorder, from the irregular nature of the ground over which they had been fighting. The guns were brought forward, so as to cover their next advance; while a very strong force was sent to support the batteries on the Homolka Hill, so as to check the enemy's centre and left, should they attempt any movement across the plain.

In the meantime, Marshal Browne was reinforcing the defenders of Lobositz with the whole of his right wing. The village was defended with desperate bravery but, owing to the position, the king was able to reinforce the assailants very much more rapidly than the Austrian commander could bring up his distant troops. The Prussian artillery concentrated their fire upon the place, and set it in flames from end to end; when its defenders were forced to abandon it, and retreat with precipitation on their cavalry.

In order to cover their withdrawal, the Austrian left moved down to the village of Sulowitz, and endeavoured to pass the dam over a marshy rivulet in front of it; but the fire from the battery on the Homolka rendered it impossible for them to form, and also set that village on fire, and they were therefore called back. The Austrian centre moved to its right, and occupied the ground behind Lobositz as soon as the defenders of the village had fallen back, and then Marshal Browne formed up his whole force afresh.

His position was now as strong as it had been when the battle first began, for the Prussians could not advance except between the swampy ground and the river; and would have been exposed, while doing so, to the fire of batteries both in front and in flank. The Austrians were still greatly superior in numbers, and all the advantages that had been gained might have been lost by a renewal of the action. The total loss in killed, wounded, and prisoners on the part of the Austrians was 3308. That of the Prussians was about the same.

Although indecisive—and indeed, claimed as a victory by both parties—the consequences showed that the advantage lay with the Prussians. Marshal Browne's object had been to relieve the Saxons, Frederick's to prevent this; and for the moment he had wholly succeeded.

On the other hand was the fact that Marshal Browne had drawn off his army practically intact, and that it was impossible for the king to winter in Bohemia, as he would have done had the Austrian army been defeated and dispersed; and the latter were still in a position to make a fresh attempt to rescue the Saxons.

To prevent this, the king despatched the Duke of Bevern with a large force, as if to get between the Austrians and the river Eger. This movement had the desired effect. Marshal Browne at once fell back, recrossed the river, and took up his position at his former camp at Budin. From there he opened communications with the Saxons, and it was arranged that these should pass the Elbe; and that he, with 8000 men, should also do so, and march to meet them.

The Saxons, however, were detained, owing to the terrible weather and the enormous difficulty of the defiles, and only crossed on the 13th. In the meantime the Prussians had taken up positions to cut off the Saxon retreat, and after crossing they found themselves hemmed in, and the roads so commanded by newly-erected batteries that, being utterly exhausted by fatigue and hardships, they had no resource but to surrender.

The terms enforced were hard. The officers were allowed to depart, on giving their parole not to serve again, but the whole of the rank and file were incorporated in the Prussian army.

Fergus Drummond and Lindsay stood by their horses, with the other members of the staff, some short distance behind the king and Marshal Keith, as they anxiously endeavoured to discover the whereabouts and intentions of the Austrian army; while the crack of musketry, between the Croats and the troops who were gradually pressing them down the hill, continued unabated.

"This is slow work, Drummond," Lindsay said, as hour after hour passed. "I should not like to have anything to do with the king, just at present. It is easy to see how fidgety he is, and no wonder. For aught we know there may be only three or four thousand men facing us and, while we are waiting here, the whole Austrian army may have crossed over again, and be marching up the river bank to form a junction with the Saxons; or they may have gone by the defiles we traversed the last two days, and may come down into Saxony and fall on the rear of our camp watching Pirna, while the Saxons are attacking in front. No wonder his majesty paces backwards and forwards like a wild beast in a cage."

From time to time an aide-de-camp was sent off, with some order involving the movement of a battalion farther to the right or left, and the addition of a few guns to the battery on Homolka Hill. Fergus had taken his turn in carrying the orders. He had, two days before, abandoned his sling; and scarcely felt any inconvenience from the wound, which indeed would have been of slight consequence, had it not been for the excessive loss of blood.

"These movements mean nothing," Lindsay said, as he returned from one of these rides. "The marshal makes the changes simply for the sake of doing something—partly, perhaps, to take the king's attention off this confounded delay; partly to interest the troops, who must be just as restless and impatient as we are."

The messages were taken, alternately, by the king's aides-de-camp and the marshal's.

At length, as the fog began to lift, the interest in the scene heightened. The king and Keith talked long and earnestly together, as they watched the village of Lobositz.

"They have got some strong batteries there," Lindsay said; "but as far as one can see, there does not appear to be any large body of troops. I suppose it is meant that the troops on the slopes shall retire there, and make a strong stand. I am bound to say that it looks very much as if Browne had only left a strong guard here, to keep us from issuing from this defile; and that his whole army moved away last night, and may now be some thirty miles away, on their march towards Saxony."

As the fog lifted still more they could see the stream running right across the plain, and the little village of Sulowitz on its bank, apparently still and deserted. Presently Keith wrote an order on a tablet, and Lindsay was sent off with it, to the general commanding the cavalry.

"Something is going to be done at last, Drummond," he said, as he mounted. "It is an order to the cavalry."

An order was then despatched to the battery on Homolka Hill, and to the batteries on the left. Two more battalions of infantry then moved up, to press the Croats more quickly down the hill.

Fergus watched Lindsay, and saw him ride up to the general. Several officers at once galloped off. There was a movement among the cavalry, and then twenty squadrons passed out through the intervals between the brigades of infantry, and trotted out through the mouth of the valley. They went on without interruption, until abreast of Lobositz; and then a great number of men ran suddenly up, from the houses of the village, to the batteries.

A minute later some thirty guns poured their fire into the Prussian cavalry; while at the same moment the guns of a heavy battery, hitherto unseen, poured in their fire from Sulowitz on their left flank; while from rising ground, not visible behind it, came the roar of thirty more pieces.

So rapidly had the aides-de-camp been sent off, that Fergus was the only one remaining available. The king spoke a few words to the marshal, and then said to Fergus:

"Ride, sir, with my orders to the officer commanding the cavalry out there, and tell him to retire at once."

Fergus ran back to where Karl was holding his horse.

"Follow me, Karl," he said, as he sprang into the saddle; and then rode rapidly down the steep hill and, as soon as he reached the valley, dashed off at a headlong gallop.

"I have orders, Karl, to recall the cavalry, who will be destroyed unless they return. Should I fall, carry the order to their commander."

The din was now prodigious. The whole of the Prussian batteries had opened on Lobositz and Sulowitz, and between the thunder of the guns came the incessant crackling of musketry on the hill to his right.

Passing through the infantry, Fergus dashed across the plain. He was mounted on the horse the marshal had given him, as the other was not yet accustomed to stand fire. The noble animal, as if delighted to be on level ground again, and excited by the roar of battle, carried him along at the top of its speed without any need of urging. Fergus knew that on the heights behind the king and Keith would be anxiously watching him, for the peril of the cavalry was great; and the concussion of the guns was now causing the fog to lift rapidly and, as he rode, he could dimly make out dark masses of men all along the rising ground behind Sulowitz, and knew that the Austrian cavalry might, at any moment, sweep down on the Prussians.

He was drawing abreast of Lobositz, when suddenly a squadron of cavalry dashed out from the village. Their object was evidently to cut him off, and prevent any message that he might bear reaching the Prussian cavalry, which were now halted half a mile ahead. Their officers were endeavouring to reform them from the confusion into which they had fallen, from the speed at which they had ridden and the heavy losses they had sustained.

He saw, at once, that the Austrians would cross his line, and reined in his horse to allow Karl to come up to him. Had not the trooper been exceptionally well mounted, he would have been left far behind. As it was, while pressing his charger to the utmost, he was still some fifty yards in rear of Fergus.

As soon as he came up, the latter said:

"We must cut our way through the Austrians. Ride close to me. We will ease our horses a little, until we are within fifty yards, and then go at them at full speed. If I fall and you get through, carry the orders to retire to the general commanding the cavalry."

The Austrian cavalry had formed up in two troops, one twenty yards behind the other, and each in line two deep, extending across the road by which Fergus was riding. Seeing, by the speed at which he was travelling, that the Prussian staff officer had no intention of surrendering, the Austrian in command gave the order to charge, when they were some fifty yards away.

"Now, Karl, boot to boot. Go right at them!"

And with pistols in their left hands, and their swords in their right, they sent their horses at full speed against the enemy. These had scarcely got into motion when, like a thunderbolt, Fergus and his orderly burst down upon them.

[Illusgtration: Not a blow was struck, horse and rider went down before them]

The shock was irresistible. Their horses were much heavier and more powerful than those of the Austrians, and their weight and impetus carried all before them. Not a blow was struck. Horse and rider went down before them, or were swept aside. They were scarcely conscious that they were through, before they encountered the second line.

Here the fight was much more severe. Fergus cut down two of his opponents and, with a pistol shot, rid Karl of an antagonist who was pressing him hard; and after a minute of wild confusion they were through the line, and riding at headlong speed towards the Prussians. Pistols cracked out behind them, but before the Austrians had time to turn and aim they were already fifty yards away, and going at a speed that soon left their pursuers behind. As soon as the latter saw this they drew off, and trotted back to Lobositz.

Fergus rode up to the officer commanding the cavalry.

"I bear the king's orders to you, general, to retire at once with your command."

It was time, for a body of Austrian cavalry, of much greater strength, could be seen galloping towards them from the high ground half a mile distant. In half a minute the Prussians were in motion but, as they returned, the storm of fire from the two villages burst out again with redoubled violence. Men and horses rolled over but, closing up quickly, the squadrons swept on.

The general remained stationary until his last squadron thundered by, and then galloped forward again and took his place at their head. Fergus had followed him, when there was a sudden crash, and he was thrown with tremendous force over his horse's head, and there lay stunned with the shock.

When he recovered he staggered to his feet, and saw that he was surrounded by Austrian cavalry; these having halted just where he fell, as pursuit of the Prussians was hopeless, and the balls from the Prussian batteries were falling thick.

"You are our prisoner, sir," an officer said to him.

"So I see," Fergus said bitterly. "It is hard luck, just at the beginning of the campaign."

"It is the fortune of war," the Austrian said with a smile; "and indeed, I don't think that you have any reason to grumble for, had that shot struck a few inches farther back, it would have carried off both your legs."

A sharp order was now given to retire. One of the troopers was ordered to give his horse to Fergus, and to mount behind a comrade; and they rode back to the Austrian main position, on the rising ground. Fergus was at once taken to the marshal in command of the Austrians.

"What is your name, sir?" the latter asked.

"Fergus Drummond. I have the honour to be an aide-de-camp on Marshal Keith's staff."

"A Scotchman, I suppose?" the marshal said, breaking into English.

"Yes, sir."

"What force is there opposed to us?"

"That I cannot say, sir. I only joined the army two days ago, and have been on the march ever since."

"Who is its commander?"

"Marshal Keith, sir; but the king himself is with it."

"I will see that you are made comfortable, presently, Mr. Drummond.

"Captain Wingratz, will you conduct this officer to the rear, and place a couple of soldiers to see that he is not annoyed or interfered with, in any way?"

Fergus was led away. Captain Wingratz called up two troopers and, choosing an elevated spot of ground, told them to dismount and allow no one to speak to the officer.

"From here," he said courteously to Drummond, "you will get a view of the field of battle."

Fergus sat down on the grass, and remained a spectator of the fight to the end of the day. He marked at once that the combat had rolled down the hill, and that the Prussians were making their way in force towards Lobositz. Then he saw heavy masses of infantry, from the Austrian right, move forward to aid in its defence. For two hours the battle raged round the village, the whole of the guns on both sides aiding in the fight. Then volumes of smoke and flame rose, and the Austrians were seen retiring. Sulowitz still kept up a heavy fire, and he saw a strong body from the Austrian left move down there; while the centre advanced to cover the retreat of the defenders of Lobositz, and to check the advancing masses of the Prussians; and he thought, for a time, that a general engagement was about to take place. Then he saw the Prussian advance cease, the roar of cannon gradually died away, and the battle was at an end.

For an hour he remained, apparently unnoticed, then Captain Wingratz rode up with another officer.

"I am sorry to have neglected you so long, Lieutenant Drummond; but you see it was the fault of your own people, who have kept us so busy. This is Lieutenant Kerr, a compatriot of yours, who will take special charge of you."

"I am sorry that our meeting cannot take place under more favourable circumstances," Kerr said, holding out his hand. "It might well have been the other way.

"Now come with me to my tent. I have no doubt that you are hungry; I can assure you that I am."

The two walked together for about a quarter of a mile, the Austrian officer having left as soon as he had introduced them.

"There were three of us here this morning," Kerr said, as they entered the tent. "The other two are missing. One I know is killed; the other badly wounded, but whether he is dead or a prisoner I cannot say.

"By the way, are you not the officer who cut his way through the squadron of our regiment, and went on and joined your cavalry, who at once fell back? I was in Lobositz, myself. My squadron was not ordered out. As I hear that you were found by our cavalry as they followed the Prussians, it struck me that it might be you; although from Lobositz we could only see that it was a staff uniform that the officer wore."

"Yes, it was I. I was carrying an order for the cavalry to retire."

"That was what we supposed, as soon as you were seen coming down the valley; and as it would have suited us much better for the Prussian cavalry to have stayed where it was for a little longer, the general sent out a squadron to intercept you. It was a splendid thing to do, on your part. Of course, there were a number of us watching from the earthworks, and I can assure you that there was a general inclination to cheer as you cut your way through our fellows. I am sure that if I had known that it was a countryman I should have done it, though the action was at the expense of my own regiment.

"Our squadron suffered heavily as they rode back again, for that battery from the Homolka turned its attention to them, as soon as you had gone through. They had an officer and nearly thirty men killed and wounded before they got back into shelter.

"How long have you been out here?"

"Only about two months."

"Really! You are lucky in getting onto Keith's staff."

"He is a cousin of my mother's," Fergus said.

"And he made you lieutenant, and aide-de-camp, at once."

"No. I was first a cornet, but I was promoted at Dresden. The king had given strict orders about plundering, and it happened that I came upon some marauders at their work, and had the good fortune to rescue a gentleman of some importance from their hands; and the king, who was furious at his orders being disobeyed, himself promoted me.

"I had been lucky enough to get myself wounded in the affair. As I lost a good deal of blood, I looked no doubt a good deal worse than I was, and I expect that had a good deal to do with my getting the step."

"Well, you are a lucky fellow. I was eight years a cornet before I got promoted."

"I think my bad luck, in getting captured, balances my good fortune in being promoted so soon."

"To some extent perhaps it does, but you will get the benefit when you return. No doubt Fritz was watching you, as you rode. He must have seen our cavalry coming down the slope, before the man in command of your squadrons could have done so; and must have felt that they were lost, unless his orders were received. He must have been relieved, indeed, when he saw you reach them."

This had indeed been the case. The king and marshal had both been watching through their glasses the Prussian cavalry, and marked how the ground behind them was dotted thickly with the bodies of horses and men.

"Will they never stop?" the king said impatiently. "These cavalry men are always getting into scrapes with their impetuosity. Gorlitz must have known that he was only sent forward to ascertain the position of the Austrians, and not to fight their whole army. He ought to have turned, as soon as that crossfire of their batteries opened upon them."

"He knew that your majesty and the whole army would be watching him, sire," Keith said quietly; "and I fancy that, under such circumstances, few cavalry men would draw rein till they had done something worthy of themselves."

At this moment the fog wreath moved away.

"See," the king exclaimed, "there is a great body of Austrian cavalry moving along behind Sulowitz. That rise behind the village must hide them from our men.

"Where is your messenger, Keith?"

"There he goes, sire. He is well out of the valley now and, by the pace he is riding at, he won't be long before he reaches them."

"He won't reach them at all," the king said curtly, a minute later. "See, there is a squadron of horse riding out from Lobositz, to cut him off. No doubt they guess what his errand is."

"I see them, sire, and he must see them, too. He is checking his horse, for his orderly is coming up to him."

"Then the cavalry will be lost," the king said. "The enemy's batteries are playing havoc with them, and they will have the Austrians down upon them in a few minutes.

"Ah! I expect Gorlitz sees them now. Our men are halting, and forming up. I suppose he means to charge the Austrians when they come up, but there are three to one against him. He is lost."

"There is hope yet, sire," Keith said, as he again turned his glass on Fergus. "My aide-de-camp is going to charge the Austrian squadron."

"So he is!" the king exclaimed, lowering his glass, for the distance was little more than half a mile from the spot where he stood. "He must be mad."

"It is possible he may do it, sire. His orderly is riding boot to boot beside him. You know already that he is a good swordsman. He will have the advantage that the enemy won't dream of his attacking them, and the rate at which they are riding will help them through.

"There he goes!" and he raised the glass again to his eye. "Bravo! They are through the first troop, and still together. Now they are at it.

"There, sire, they are through the second troop. Bravo, Fergus!"

The king made no remark until he saw the Austrian squadron draw rein. Then he said:

"Thank God, he has saved the cavalry! It was a glorious deed. Marshal Keith, make out his commission as a captain, today."

"He is very young, sire," the marshal said hesitatingly.

"By Heaven, sir, I would promote him if he were an infant in arms!" the king replied. "Why, Keith, the loss of half our cavalry would have crippled us, and cavalry men are not made in a day.

"There, he has reached them now. I see they are wheeling. Well and quickly done! Yes, they won't be overtaken; but three minutes later, and not a man would have come back.

"Colonel Rogner," he said to one of the group of officers behind him, "you will please ride down and meet the cavalry, when they come in, and convey to Lieutenant Drummond my highest satisfaction at the gallant manner in which he has carried out my orders. You will also inform General Gorlitz that, in my opinion, he pushed his reconnaissance much too far; but that I am well content with the bravery shown by the troops, and at the manner in which he drew them off on receipt of my order."

In five-and-twenty minutes the colonel returned, and said:

"I regret to say, your majesty, that Lieutenant Drummond is missing. I have inquired among the officers and find that, as he was following General Gorlitz, he and his horse suddenly pitched forward and lay without movement. Evidently the horse was killed by a cannon shot, but whether Mr. Drummond was also killed, they could not say."

"We must hope not," the king said warmly. "I would not lose so gallant a young officer, for a great deal.

"Keith, if we take Lobositz today, let a most careful search be made, over the ground the cavalry passed, for his body. If it is found, so much the worse. If not, it will be a proof that he is either wounded or unhurt, and that he has been carried off by the Austrian cavalry; who passed over the same ground as ours, and who certainly would not trouble themselves to carry off his body."



Chapter 6: A Prisoner.

The next morning a horse was brought round for Fergus, and he at once started, under the escort of a captain and Lieutenant Kerr and fifty troopers, with thirteen other officers taken prisoners at Lobositz. Seven hundred rank and file had also been captured. These, however, were to march under an infantry escort on the following day. Fergus afterwards learned that sixteen officers, of whom eleven belonged to the cavalry, had been killed; and eighty-one officers and about eighteen hundred men wounded in the desperate fighting at Lobositz.

Fergus found that among the Austrians the battle of the previous day was considered a victory, although they had lost their advanced post at Lobositz.

"I cannot say it seemed so to me," he said to the lieutenant, as they rode away from the camp.

"Why, we have prevented the king from penetrating into Bohemia."

"But the king could have done that three days ago, without fighting a battle," Fergus said; "just as Schwerin did at Koeniggraetz. There would have been no need to have marched night and day across the mountains, in order to give battle to an army nearly twice the strength of his own. His object was to prevent you from drawing off the Saxons, and in that he perfectly succeeded."

"Oh, there are other ways of doing that! We had only to keep along the other side of the Elbe until we faced Pirna, then they could have joined us."

"It sounds easy," Fergus laughed, "but it would not be so easy to execute. These mountain defiles are terrible, and you may be sure that the king will not be idle while you and the Saxons are marching to meet each other.

"However, it was a hard-fought battle, and I should think that our loss must be quite as great as yours; for your artillery must have played terrible havoc among our infantry, as they marched to the assault of the village."

"Yes. I hear this morning that we have lost about a hundred and twenty officers killed and wounded, and about two thousand one hundred and fifty men, and nearly seven hundred missing or prisoners. What your loss is, of course, I can't say."

"I cannot understand your taking so many prisoners," Fergus said.

"A great many of them belong to the cavalry. You see, all who were dismounted by the fire of our guns were captured when our horse swept down."

"Ah, yes! I did not think of that. I saw a good many men running across the plain when I galloped out."

Two of the officers belonged to the 3rd Royal Dragoon Guards, half of which regiment had taken part in the reconnaissance; and both their horses, like his own, had been shot under them. As soon as they were brought up from the tents where they had been lodged, they exchanged a cordial greeting with Fergus. He no longer belonged to the regiment, as on his promotion he had been gazetted from it on to the staff; but during the time he had drilled with them, in Berlin, he had come to be well known to all of them.

"I thought that it was you, lieutenant," one of them said. "I was not far from you, when you charged through those Austrians. I was unhorsed as we went forward, and was running back when I saw them come out. There were a good many of us, and I thought their object was to capture us. It was no use running, and I threw myself down, in hopes they would think I had been knocked over. You passed within thirty yards of me. Our guns opened so heavily on them, after you had got through, that I thought it prudent to keep quiet a little longer before I made a move; and the result was that the Austrian cavalry, as it came along in the pursuit of our men, picked me up.

"Do you know where we are bound for?"

"Prague in the first instance, but beyond that I cannot say. I suppose it will depend a good deal on what takes place now. There is no doubt the Saxons will have to surrender; and I suppose that, anyhow, they will send us farther away, unless indeed there is an exchange of prisoners."

A long day's ride took them to Prague. The news of the battle had been sent off the night before, and as it had been reported as a victory, the inhabitants were in a state of great delight. Bonfires blazed in the streets, church bells rang in triumphant peals, and the whole population was abroad. The arrival of this party, with prisoners, afforded a welcome confirmation of the news.

There were a few yells and hoots, as they rode along in charge of their escort; but as a rule the people stood silent, as if in respect for their misfortunes, for most of the captives were wounded. They were taken to the military prison, and comfortable quarters assigned to them; and the wounds of those who required it were redressed by a surgeon. There was a hearty parting between Fergus and Kerr, as the latter, after handing over his prisoners, turned to ride off with the escort to the barracks.

"I start early tomorrow for the camp again," he said. "If you are kept here, I am sure to see you again before long."

Fergus shared a room with Captain Hindeman, an officer of the 3rd.

"I don't think it at all likely we shall remain here," the latter said. "It is more probable that we shall be sent to Olmuetz, or to one of the smaller fortresses in Moravia. The war is, they will think, likely to be confined to Bohemia until the spring; if indeed the king does not have to stand on the defensive. I cannot help thinking, myself, that we should have done better if we had let things go on quietly till the spring. It is not probable that Russia and Austria would have been more ready, then, than they are now; and we should have had the whole summer before us, and might have marched to Vienna before the campaign was over. Now they will all have the winter to make their preparations, and we shall have France, Austria, and Russia, to say nothing of Poland, on our hands. It is a tremendous job even for Frederick to tackle."

They remained for three weeks at Prague, and were then informed by the governor that he had orders for them to be removed to Olmuetz. Accordingly, the next day eight of the officers started on horseback, under an escort. When they reached Bruenn they found that they were to be separated, and the next morning Captain Hindeman and Fergus were taken to the fortress of Spielberg.

"An awkward place either to get in or out of, Drummond," the captain said, as they approached the fortress.

"Very much so," Fergus agreed. "But if I see a chance, I shall certainly do my best to escape before spring."

"I don't think there is much chance of that," the other said gloomily. "If we had been left at Prague, or even at Bruenn, there might have been some chance; but in these fortresses, where everything is conducted on a very severe system, and they are veritable prisons, I don't think that anything without wings has a chance of getting away."

As a rule, officers taken prisoners in war enjoyed a considerable amount of liberty; and were even allowed to reside in the houses of citizens, on giving their parole. The enforced embodiment of the Saxons in the Prussian army had, however, excited such a storm of indignation throughout Europe that it greatly damaged Frederick's cause. It was indeed an unheard-of proceeding, and a most mistaken one, for the greater part of the Saxons seized opportunities to desert, as soon as the next campaign began. It was the more ill-advised, since Saxony was a Protestant country, and therefore the action alienated the other Protestant princes in Germany, whose sympathies would have otherwise been wholly with Prussia; and it was to no small extent due to that high-handed action that, during the winter, the Swedes joined the Confederacy, and undertook to supply an army of 50,000 men; France paying a subsidy towards their maintenance, and the members of the Confederacy agreeing that, upon the division of Prussia, Pomerania should fall to the share of Sweden. Thus it may be said that the whole of Central and Northern Europe, with the exception only of Hanover, was leagued against Prussia.