MY LADY'S KISS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLV, Issue 13730, 22 April 1908, Page 10

MY LADY'S KISS.

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL AEEANGEMENT.

BY NORMAN INNES, Author of "The Surge of "War," " Parson * , Croft," " The Lonely Guard," etc-

HISTORICAL ROMANCE.

[COPYRIGHT.] CHAPTER XI. THE PRICE OF A LIFE. Daybreak on the following morning found the castle league red, and ere the dew was oft the forest the outer wall -was breached in two places. As of old. smoke plumed the keep of Staren, once again the battlecry of her defenders went up to heaven, scaring the daws in the crumbling towers, while, as if in mockery of the turmoil surging beneath, the sky was clearest blue, and as faj' fis eye could reach the forest lay russet and at peace. Men fought • and fell in Staren that autumn morning, to the blare of the trumpet upon the ramparts, to the roll of the drum before the breach. They were a Gothland regiment of Klipke's,- supported by some Saxon pikemen, who in the grey of dawn had called upon the Imperialists to surrender, had made the best of a curt refusal, and thereafter had beset the castle as ravens a carcase in flood-time. They had cannon too, to aid them in bringing the garrison to reason, light enough, but an lour's play upon the main gateway had warranted an assault.

On they came, Swede, Dutchman, Scot and German, and in the breach they met a handful of the dragoons of Neufels, sword and pike in hand. Twice, thrice, and a fourth time the defenders hurled them back, each fighting as a wolf at bay, hopeless yet grimly for all that. But in the end the assailants carried the wall, broke over it as a wave athwart- a ruined groyne, swept the last man before them, .and came pouring into the courtyard to be stayed by a breastwork of sacks, barrels, beams and timber, to be met by other foemen as ready as their comrades to dispute their further passage. It was a gallant fight that hard-pressed squadron made, a fight against odds and afoot; but what mattered it so long as it was for the honour of their company that they fought, for their leader's fame and their own. The foemen had heard of their repute, of their recklessness and iron discipline, and in a lull in the attack while men stood to breathe spared not to gall them with taunt and gibe. And for taunt and gibe they gave rough payment, these comrades from the four winds of heaven, with their captain over in their midst, the battlefight in his face, death at his sword's point. By noon, when the enemy had won the outer works and had driven the defenders to seek shelter in the keep, the fighting slackened, the assailants drawing off for refreshment, St. 'Eux and his men employing themselves to prolong yet further a forlorn defence. It was the ending of the squadron and each man knew it; by sundown, by the next dawn at latest, the dragoons of Neufels must be no more; but they worked with a will, piling lumber of all kinds behind the heavy iron-clamped doors. Short time was theirs; but a brief life and a merry was the way of the company and it would be so now, so they swore. They had ' lost half their number, but twenty were left to defend the keep ; their lips were parched, their eyes stinging for the battle-smoke, but hold the place they would till the last man fell beside his captain. This latter had offered to ask terms of the Swedish commander: for themselves, the squadron at large, he had been at pains to point out, for himself he'd ask nothing. And his men had laughed in his face—it was but rarely that St. Eux woke their mirth— to meet an answering smile, a smile of great pride and gratitude, a smile worth a twelve-month's pay in that hour to the dullest wit among them. " Ho lads?" cried he— voice was acrack for the dust and the smother—- blachdon't fail me. Since our water's out well drink a health to our Emperor in Rhenish ; to the Emperor, to his worship the count, to the Pope, and peace to our souls.'' Their work ended, the wine was broached, and each man pledged captain and comrades, and, wiping, his lips, fell to settling the harness upon him, proving his weapon was keen for the afternoon's work, with a curse on him who had betrayed them, poisoning their store of water.

Now, while the leaguer was being pressed home about their prison, Ertha von Reuth and her maid had stood at a loophole- in the keep facing the great courtyard. There they had witnessed the winning of the breach, and, on the Swedes advancing to carry the hastily erected barrier, the maid, Hick and weary of the sight, had gone terrified to her chamber, leaving the other to linger if she would. Smoke drifted from beneath, men fell before her, but, her heart in the fray, Mistress Ertha could not turn her eyes from that handful of fighters and their stalwart captain, who was ever where blows fell thickest, whose voice she could catch now and again ringing high above the clamour. And as she watched those lonely fighters giving back slowly upon the keep, there rose in her breast a pity for their strait, and with pity a loathing for the shouting, exultant foe that pressed them so close. Rude sons of the camp, drunken rufflers they might be, but for all their faults shrewd men of war. If they had the basest of man's passions, they had else beside, courage, a recklessness of life, that same devotion which she judged must have fired knights and paladins of old renown, and she, who had had some share in their undoing, who had wished good success to their betrayer, felt the hope rise within ; her that their leader might ask for terms. These then were the men she had scorned, this the leader she hated. She watched them breathless, and when at the last they had been borne back beneath her, leaving dead and wounded to the enemy; when she heard the sound of the barricading of the doorway, the whirr of the gundstone, as one or another for the last time set an edge to his blade, with an ache at her heart, a sob in her throat, a. mist before her eyes, she stole down the stairway. She had stood idle loug enough, she would have her share in the squadron's quarrel, foes though they were; would give such aid as she might to such of them as were stricken. Twenty gathered before the gateway was the sight that met her when she reached the foot of the stairs that opened into the inner court, twenty weary and wounded, yet twenty blithe of heart to judge by the smiles on their smoke-grimed features. One among them was laughing as a boy ; never had she seen the stern face so lit with plea-sure. This game then that they played must be rare indeed to work such a change in St. Eux. But he was wounded; there was a 'kerchief about his brow beneath the headpiece, and another at his left wrist, besides a gash upon his cheek. Mistress Ertha grew faint and shrank deeper into the shadow of the archway as she watched them broach the tun of wine and drink to their leader, one and all, who pledged them again with that proud smile of his. Tears were abrim in the woman's eyes, tears stood on her cheek. undried, her iips trembled, her heart was full. In a moment it seemed as though a veil had fallen from before her. Was this the same, the insolent who had taken ransom at her lips in Kemmel? Was this the free-captain she had derided, whose offers of service she had mocked, whose honour she had doubted? Then, let none offer her service in her life again, none show her honour, let them . mock who might, if by speech or deed, by ! look or thought, she did the man wrong \ hereafter. But her time was short and she ! knew it. Death's shadow brooded black ! o'er the keep of Staren, and for St. Eux the moments were ebbing fast wherein speech or deed or glance might tell him aright. At that moment the captain of dragoons turned and, plunging a flagon into the halfemptied cask, walked leisurely across the court to where she stood. Mistress Ertha, grew hot in a moment. She had it in her mind to fly, hesitated, and then stepped from the shadow of the archway to meet the man. Giers de St. Eux was taken aback for the first time that morning. "Mistress von Reuth?" said he. "There is like to be rough work here within the hour, work that no woman shou'd witness.

She bent her eyes. "I care not," she breathed, "yet—" " But it were bettor, madam, that you should withdraw to your chamber. There your friends will find you when" " When, sir?" cried she, looking up in his face in great dread. St. Eux's mouth set. "When they have done with this court," lie answered grimly. "But you have no cause to fear." She was silent for a moment and then her glance fell to the bandage, loose, and like to fall from his wrist. "But you are wounded," said she without lifting her eyes. " Let me bind the kerchief anew." She touched his wrist, the linen was soaked with blood and grimed. The man lifted his hand, wonder in his eyes, at her offer, a smile on his lips for the shudder thiti accompanied it. " Nay, trouble not, mistress," he rejoined, as the rag slipped to the ground, laying bare a long flesh-wound above his wrist. "My thanks, but it is nought. The blood is stanched and yonder kerchief is of little service." " Here is mine," said Ertha von Reuth, and plucking a silken scarf from her bosom, she bound it about the cut, very white but unflinching, with eye? upon the thick, tanned wrist, while he thanked her, longing for a glimpse of her face. "I was bringing this wine for you and the waiting-maid," said he when her work was ended. " "lis sour liquor, but we have nought else in the castle." She _ thanked him, and was taking the vessel in her two hands, when the dragoon looked up at a cry from those gathered on the further side" of the court that the enemy were advancing to the attack. " Farewell, mistress," said he. Farewell, sir," answered Ertha von Reuth, still looking at him with the tankard in her hands. She said no more, unless the crimson of her cheeks told the soldier a tale. Mayhap it did, for ere he had gone five paces from her he turned to look once again at his prisoner. And she at the sight ii the grave, strong face, smiled, though tears stood in her eyes, raised the flagon to her lips, and in another moment was gone. It cost, the Swedes a dozen men and two hours' toil to win their way into the keep. In the end fire and a keg of powder having demolished gate and breastwork, Jan Klipke's regiment came surging into the inner court, driving the remnant of the dragoons of Netifels as clfctfi before them. They were but 10 with their leader, bat-tle-worn, fouled with dust and wounded* More than one lay writhed upon the Hags, pistol in hand, stricken, yet athirst to take the last toll of their foes. The restgathered in a half-moon about, their leader, panting, all but spent, but bent on selling their lives at a, price. It was then that a bearded Swede, an officer of some standing to judge from his dress, leaping upon the broken breastwork, called to St. Eux, in ill German. " A gallant stand on my life ; now yield, sir. I offer terms." The other smiled, his head was bare, a woman's scarf was firing loose at hi« wrist. "I ask none," came the answer, and he bowed, " 'tis not. my way, nor the custom of the dragoons of Neufels to yield." The Swede frowned, he -had* gone farther than was the victors wont in the floodtide of the long war, and, perhaps, 'as ashamed of his clemency.. (To be continued daily.)