It was a result of this general outburst of indignation that, instead of being kept in a large town and allowed various privileges, the prisoners taken at the battle of Lobositz were treated with exceptional severity, and confined in isolated fortresses. Fergus and his companion were lodged in a small room in one of the towers. The window was strongly barred, the floor was of stone, the door massive and studded with iron. Two truckle beds, a table, and two chairs formed the sole furniture.

"Not much chance of an escape here," Captain Hindeman said, as the door closed behind their guards.

"The prospect does not look very bright, I admit," Fergus said cheerfully; "but we have a proverb, 'Where there is a will there is a way'. I have the will certainly and, as we have plenty of time before us, it will be hard if we do not find a way."

He went to the window and looked out.

"Over a hundred feet," he said, "and I should say a precipice fully as deep at the foot of the wall. At any rate, we have the advantage of an extensive view.

"I am glad to see that there is a fireplace, for the cold will be bitter here, when the winter sets in. I wonder whether the rooms above and below this are tenanted?"

Hindeman shrugged his shoulders. He was not, at present, in a mood to take interest in anything. It was now the end of October, and Fergus was very glad when the door opened again, and a warder came in with two soldiers, who carried huge baskets of firewood; and it was not long before a large fire was blazing on the hearth.

Day after day passed. Fergus turned over in his mind every possible method of escape, but the prospect looked very dark. Even if the door were open, there would be difficulties of all sorts to encounter. In the middle of the day many people went in and out of the fortress, with provisions, wood, and other matters; but at sunset the gates were shut, and sentries placed on the walls; and on getting out he would have to cross an inner courtyard, and then pass through a gateway—at which a sentinel was posted night and day—into the outer court, which was surrounded by a strong wall over thirty feet high, with towers at the angles.

Escape from the window would be equally difficult. Two long and very strong ropes would be required, and the bars of the window were so massive that, without tools of any kind, it would be impossible to remove them.

A month later Captain Hindeman fell ill, and was removed to the infirmary. Fergus was glad of his departure. He had been so depressed that he was useless as a companion and, so long as he remained there, he altogether prevented any plan of escape being attempted; for difficult as it might be for one person to get away, it would be next to impossible for two to do so.

For an hour in the day, the prisoners had leave to walk on the wall. His fellow prisoner had never availed himself of this privilege; but Fergus always took his daily exercise, partly to keep himself in health, partly in hopes that a plan of escape might present itself. A sentry, however, was always posted on the wall while the prisoners were at exercise; and on the side allotted for their walk, the rock sloped away steeply from the foot of the wall. The thought of escape, therefore, in broad daylight was out of the question; and Fergus generally watched what was going on in the courtyard.

In time he came to know which was the entrance to the apartments of the governor and his family, where the married officers were quartered, and where the soldiers lodged. He saw that on the ground floor of the tower he occupied were the quarters of a field officer belonging to the garrison.

One day he saw a number of men employed in clearing out some unused quarters, on one side of the outer courtyard, and judged that an addition was about to be made to the garrison. This gave substance to a plan that he had been revolving in his mind. That evening, when the warder brought him his food, he said carelessly:

"I see you have some more troops coming in."

"Yes," the man replied, "there are three hundred more men coming. They will march in tomorrow afternoon. They will be getting the room on the first floor, below here, cleared out tomorrow morning for the officer who commands them."

Fergus had, all along, considered that there would be no difficulty in suddenly attacking and overpowering the warder, when he came in or out of his room, for no special precautions were taken. The fact that the prisoners were all in their uniforms, and that on showing themselves below they would be instantly arrested, seemed to forbid all chance of their making any attempt to escape. It was the matter of clothes that had, more than anything else, puzzled Fergus; for although he thought that he might possibly obtain a uniform from some officer's quarters, it was evident that the guard would at once perceive that he was not one of the officers of the garrison. The arrival of the fresh detachment relieved him of this difficulty, and it now seemed that a way of escape was open to him.

Much depended upon the hour at which the regiment would arrive. The later they did so the better, and as the weather had for some days been terribly rough, and the roads would be deep and heavy, it was likely that they would not arrive until some time past the hour fixed.

The next afternoon he listened for the roll of drums that would greet the arrival of the newcomers. Just as the door opened, and the sergeant entered with a lantern, he heard the sound that he had been listening for.



Nothing could have happened more fortunately. As the man was placing his supper on the table, Fergus sprang suddenly upon him, hurled him down on to his face, and then fastened his hands behind him with a rope he had made from twisted strips of one of his rugs. He was not afraid of his calling out, as the window looked outside, and it was blowing half a gale. Moreover, the sound of drums below would aid to prevent any noise being heard from the courtyard.

"I don't want to hurt you, sergeant," he said, "but I do want my liberty. I must put a bandage round your mouth, to prevent you from calling; but you know as well as I do that there would be no chance of your being heard, however loud you might shout.

"Now, in the first place I am going to see if I can get a uniform. If I cannot, I must come back and take yours."

Binding the sergeant's legs as well as his arms, and putting a muffler over his mouth, Fergus went out, leaving his own jacket and cap behind him. The key was in the door. He turned it and put it in his pocket, shot the heavy bolts, and ran downstairs. When he got to the bottom, he tried the door of the major's quarters. It was unbolted, and he felt absolutely certain that the major would be out as, with the other officers, he would have gone down to the gate to receive those of the incoming detachment.

On opening the door, he saw the articles of which he was in search—a long cloak and a regimental cap. These he at once put on. After a further search, he found a pair of military pantaloons and a patrol jacket. Throwing off the cloak, he rapidly changed his clothes. He wanted now only a regimental sword to complete the costume, but he trusted to the long cloak to hide the absence of this.

Throwing the things that he had taken off under the bed, he went out, closed the door behind him, locked it, and took the key. He had with him the short sword carried by the warder, and he relied upon this to silence the sentry, at the passage leading to the outer court, should he attempt to stop him.

This, however, was most unlikely. The night was dark, and there was no light burning; and at this hour, with fresh troops arriving and a general movement in the fortress, there could be no question of a countersign being demanded by a sentry in the interior of the place. The man, indeed, only drew himself up and saluted, as he dimly made out an officer coming from the major's quarters.

The courtyard beyond was half full of soldiers. The newcomers had just fallen out. Some were being greeted by members of the garrison who had known them before, officers were chatting together; and Fergus made his way, unnoticed in the darkness, to the gate. As he had hoped, the baggage waggons were making their way in.

A sentry was placed on each side of the gate.

"Now then," he said sharply, "hurry on with these waggons. The commandant wants the gate shut, as soon as possible;" and passing the sentry, he went on as if to hurry up the rear of the train.

Taking him for one of the officers of the newly-arrived party, the sentry stepped back at once, and he passed out.

There were six waggons still outside and, unnoticed, he passed these and went down the road. He had brought with him under his cloak the sergeant's lantern and, as soon as he was half a mile from the fortress, he took this out in order to be able to proceed the more rapidly. He had taken particular notice of the country from his prison window and, when he came down into a broad road running along the valley, he turned at once to the south.

His plans had all been carefully thought out, while in prison. He knew perfectly well that, without money, it would be altogether impossible for him to traverse the many hundred miles that lay between him and Saxony. There would be a hot pursuit when, in the morning, he was found to have gone; but it would hardly be suspected that he had taken the road for Vienna, as this would be entirely out of his way.

Happily, he was not altogether penniless. He had always carried five or six gold pieces, sewn up in the lining of his jacket with the letters with which he had been furnished by Count Eulenfurst, as a resource in case of being taken prisoner. He wished now that he had brought more, but he thought that it might prove sufficient for his first needs.

He walked all night. His candle burnt out, in two hours after starting; but at eleven the moon rose, and its light enabled him to keep the road without difficulty. As morning dawned, he approached a good-sized village some forty miles from his starting point and, waiting for an hour until he saw people stirring, Fergus went to the posting house and shouted for the postmaster. The sight of a field officer, on foot at such an hour of the morning, greatly surprised the man when he came down.

"My horse has fallen and broken its neck," Fergus said, "and I have had to walk some miles on foot. I have important despatches to carry to Vienna. Bring round a horse, without a moment's delay."

The postmaster, without the smallest hesitation, ordered his men to saddle and bring out a horse.

"It will be sent back from the next stage," Fergus said, as he mounted and rode on at full speed.

He changed horses twice, not the slightest suspicion being entertained by any of the postmasters that he was not what he seemed; and, before noon, arrived at the last post house before reaching Vienna.

"A bottle of your best wine, landlord, and I want to speak a word with you in a private room. Bring two glasses."

The wine was poured out, and after he had drank a glass Fergus said:

"Landlord, I am the bearer of important despatches, and it is imperative that I should not attract attention as I enter the city. If I were seen and recognized there, questions might be asked, and curiosity excited as to the news of which I am the bearer.

"I see that you are a sensible man, and will readily understand the situation. To avoid attracting attention, it would be best for me to enter the city in a civilian dress. You are about my size, and I beg you to furnish me with a suit of your clothes, for which I will pay at once."

"I will do that willingly, sir," the landlord answered, feeling much honoured by being let into what he deemed an important affair. "My best suit is at your service. You can send it me out from the town."

"I would rather pay for it, landlord. I may be ordered in another direction, and may not have an opportunity of returning it. If you will say how much the suit cost you, I will hand you the money."

The landlord went out, and returned in a minute with the clothes.

"Another glass of wine, landlord," Fergus said, as he handed over the amount at which the landlord valued them—"another glass of wine; and then, while I am changing, get a light trap round to the door. I shall not want to take it into Vienna, but will alight and send it back again, half a mile this side of the gates. Mind—should any inquiries be made, it were best to say as little as possible."

In another five minutes, Fergus was on his way again. He had procured from the landlord a small trunk, in which he had packed the uniform, and directed him to keep it until he heard from him; but if in the course of a week he received no orders, he was to forward it to Major Steiner, at Spielberg.

When within half a mile of Vienna, Fergus got out, gave a present to the driver and told him to return, and then walked forward to the gate, which he entered without question. He thought it better not to put up in that quarter of the town, but walked a long distance through the city, purchased a travelling coat lined with sheepskin, and a small canvas trunk in which he put it; went some distance farther and hired a room at a quiet inn, and called for dinner, of which he felt much in need, for beyond eating a few mouthfuls of bread while a fresh horse was brought out for him, he had tasted nothing since the previous evening. After dining he went to his room and took his boots off and, feeling completely worn out from his long journey, after two months of confinement, threw himself on the bed and slept for three hours.

Then he went for an hour's stroll through the town. By this time it was getting dark, snowflakes were beginning to fall thickly, and he was very glad, after sitting for a time listening to the talk in the parlour of the inn, to turn in for the night.

In the morning the ground was covered with snow. He was glad to put on his thick coat, for the cold outside was bitter.

For some hours he walked about Vienna, and the contrast between that city and Berlin struck him greatly. The whole bearing and manner of the people was brighter, and gayer. The soldiers, of whom there were great numbers in the streets—Austrians, Croats, and Hungarians—had none of the formal stiffness of the Prussians, but laughed and joked as they went, and seemed as easy and light hearted as the civilians around them. They were, for the most part, inferior in size and physique to the Prussians; but there was a springiness in their walk, and an alertness and intelligence which were wanting in the more solid soldier of the north.

He spent the day in making himself acquainted with the town, the position of the gates, and other particulars which might be important to him; as he could not feel sure of the reception that he would meet with, when he presented his letter.

In the afternoon the city was particularly gay. Sledges made their appearance in the streets, and all seemed delighted that winter had set in, in earnest.

The next morning, after breakfast, Fergus went to the mansion of Count Platurn, whose position he had ascertained on the previous day. The name had been scored under, in his list, as one on whom he might confidently rely.

"I am the bearer of a letter to Count Platurn," he said, to the somewhat gorgeously-dressed functionary who opened the door. "I have a message to deliver to him, personally."

The doorkeeper closed the door behind him and spoke to a footman, who went away and returned, in a minute or two, and told Fergus to follow him to a spacious and comfortable library, where the count was sitting alone.

"You are the bearer of a letter to me, sir?" he said, in a pleasant tone of voice. "Whence do you bring it?"

"From Count Eulenfurst of Dresden," Fergus said, producing it.

The count gave an exclamation of pleasure.

"Has he completely recovered?" he asked. "Of course, we heard of the outrage of which he was a sufferer."

"He was going on well when I saw him last, count."

The count opened the letter and read it, with an air of growing surprise as he went on. When he had finished it, he rose from his seat and offered his hand to Fergus.

"You are the Scottish officer who saved the lives of the count, his wife, and daughter," he said warmly. "How you come to be here I don't know, but it is enough for me that you rendered my dear friend and his wife, who is a cousin of mine, this great service. You are not here, I hope, on any mission which, as an Austrian noble, I could feel it impossible to further."

"No indeed, count. Had it been so, I should assuredly not have presented this letter to you. In giving it to me, the countess said that possibly the fortune of war might be unfavourable, and that I might be taken prisoner. In that case, she said I might find a friend invaluable, and she gave me letters to eight gentlemen in various great towns, saying that she believed that any one of these would, for the sake of the count, do me any kindness in his power.

"Her prevision has turned out correct. My horse was shot under me at the battle of Lobositz, and I was made prisoner and sent to the fortress of Spielberg. Three days since I effected my escape, and deemed it more prudent to make my way here, where no one would suspect me of coming, instead of striving to journey up through Bohemia."

"You effected your escape from Spielberg!" the count repeated, in surprise. "That is indeed a notable feat, for it is one of our strongest prisons; but you shall tell me about that, presently.

"Now, about Count Eulenfurst. The affair created quite a sensation, partly from the rank and well-known position of the count, partly from the fact that the King of Prussia, himself, called upon the count to express his sincere regret at what had occurred, and the vigorous steps that he took to put a stop to all acts of pillage and marauding. It was said at the time that, had it not been for the opportune arrival of a young Scottish officer, an aide-de-camp to Marshal Keith, the lives of the count and his family would assuredly have been sacrificed; and that the king, in token of his approbation, had promoted the officer upon the spot.

"But I pray you, take off that warm coat, and make yourself at home."

He touched a bell. A servant entered immediately.

"If anyone calls, say that I am engaged on business, and can see no one this morning. Place two chairs by the fire, and bring in wine and glasses."

Two chairs were moved to the fire. Wine was placed close at hand on a small table, and the count fetched a box of cigars from his cabinet. Fergus had already adopted the all but universal custom, in the German army, of smoking.

"Now," the count said, when the cigars were lighted, "tell me all about this affair at Dresden."

Fergus related the facts, as modestly as he could.

"No wonder Eulenfurst speaks of you in the highest terms," said the count. "Truly it was nobly done. Six Pomeranian soldiers to a single sword! 'Tis wonderful."

"The chief credit should, as I have said, count, be given to the maid, but for whose aid matters might have gone quite otherwise."

"Doubtless great credit is due to her, Lieutenant Drummond; but you see, you had already defeated three, and I prefer to think that you would have got the better of the others, even if she had not come to your aid.

"The countess had, I hope, quite recovered at the time you came away, since it is she who writes the letter in his name."

"I think that she had quite recovered. For a few hours, the doctors were even more anxious as to her state than that of the count; but the news that he was doing well, and might recover, did wonders for her; and she was able herself to take part in nursing him, two days after he received the wound."

"I saw, by the account, that my little cousin received the king."

"She did, sir, and bore herself well. It was no doubt a great trial to her, so soon after the terrible scene she had passed through. In that she had showed great calmness and presence of mind, and was able to give assistance to her mother, as soon as she herself was released from her bonds."

"You were not present, yourself?"

"No, sir. My wound was, as I have said, but in the flesh; and was of so little consequence, that I did not think to have it bandaged until all other matters were arranged. But when I had made my report to the marshal, and begged that a surgeon should be sent instantly to aid the count, I fainted from loss of blood; and it was some days before I was able to ride out to pay my respects to the countess."

"And now, tell me about your escape from Spielberg."

This Fergus did.

"It was well managed, indeed," laughed the count. "You seem to be as ready with your wits as with your sword, and to have provided against every emergency. It was fortunate that you had hidden away those gold pieces, with your letters; for otherwise you could hardly have got those clothes from the postmaster. It was a bold stroke, indeed, to use her majesty's uniform and the imperial post to further your escape.

"Now we must think in what way I can best aid you. You will require a stout horse, a disguise, and a well-filled purse. Eulenfurst authorizes me to act as his banker, to advance any moneys that you may require. Therefore you need offer me no thanks.

"What disguise do you, yourself, fancy?"

"I should think that the dress of a trader, travelling on business, would be as good as any I could choose."

"Yes, I should think it would."

"I should give myself out as a Saxon merchant," Fergus went on. "In the first place my German, which I learned from a Hanoverian, is near enough to the Saxon to pass muster; and my hair and complexion are common enough, in Saxony."

"I will get an official paper from the city authorities, stating that you are one—shall we say Paul Muller, native of Saxony, and draper by trade?—now returning to Dresden. I shall have no difficulty in getting it through one of my own furnishers. I do not say that you could not make your way through without it; but should you be stopped and questioned, it would facilitate matters. I will see about it this afternoon. I have simply to say, to one of the tradesmen I employ, that I am sending an agent through Bohemia to Eulenfurst, and think that in the present disturbed state he had better travel as a trader; and ask him to fill up the official papers, and take them to the burgomaster's office to get them signed and stamped. He will do it as a matter of course, seeing that I am a sufficiently good customer of his.

"A horse I can, of course, supply you with. It must not be too showy, but it should be a strong and serviceable animal, with a fair turn of speed. The clothes you had perhaps better buy for yourself, together with such things as you can carry in your valises.

"I would gladly ask you to stay with me here, for a while; but having arrived in that dress, it might excite remark among the servants were you to appear in a different character. I regret that my wife and family are away, at one of my country seats, and will not be back for a week; and I suppose you will not care to linger so long here."

"I thank you, count, but I should prefer to leave as soon as possible. I do not think that there is really any fear of my being recognized. If they search at all along the Vienna road, it is not likely that they will do so as far as this; and certainly they could obtain no news of me, for the first forty miles, and would not be likely to push their inquiries as far, for a dismounted field officer could not but have attracted attention, at the first village through which he passed."

"It would be best for you not to change your clothes at the place where you are stopping. I can have everything ready for you by tomorrow morning, if you wish to leave at once."

"I should certainly prefer doing so."

"Very well, then. Do you go out by the west gate, at nine o'clock, and walk for some four miles. When you find some quiet spot, change your clothes, and walk on until within sight of the village of Gulnach, and there wait. I will send a confidential servant with the horse. He, on seeing you standing there, will ask who you are waiting for. You will give my name, and then he will hand over the horse and papers to you."

He got up and went to his table and opened a drawer.

"Here are a hundred rix dollars, Mr. Drummond, which I hand you as Count Eulenfurst's banker. It is a matter of pure business."

"I could do with much less than that, sir," Fergus said.

"No, 'tis better to be well supplied. Besides, there are your clothes to buy; and be sure and provide yourself with a good fur-lined travelling cloak. You will need it, I can assure you.

"Your best course will be to travel through Saint Poelten and Ips, cross the river at once, and go over the mountains by the road through Freystadt to Budweis. It is by far the most level road from here, though a good deal longer than the one through Horn. But there is snow in the air, and I think that we shall have a heavy downfall, and you may well find the defiles by the Horn road blocked by snow; whereas by Freystadt you are not likely to find any difficulty, and most of the road is perfectly flat."



Chapter 7: Flight.

After leaving Count Platurn, with the most sincere thanks for his kindness, Fergus went to a clothier's, where he bought clothes suitable for a trader, with warm undergarments, and an ample cloak lined with warm, though cheap, fur, and carried these to his inn. The rest of the day was spent in strolling about, and in examining the public buildings and art galleries.

The next morning he paid his reckoning and, taking his small trunk in one hand and his fur cloak in the other, started; wearing the coat he had first purchased as he thought that, crossing the defiles into Saxony, he might very well need that as well as his cloak. As the western gate was the one nearest to his inn, it was not long before he issued out and, walking briskly, came in three-quarters of an hour to a wood.

As there was no one in sight along the road, he turned in here and changed his clothes. Then, leaving those he had taken off behind him, he continued on his way, and in less than half an hour approached a village, which he learned from a man he met was Gulnach. He waited by the roadside for a quarter of an hour, and then saw a man galloping towards him, leading a riderless horse. He drew rein as he came up.

"What are you waiting here for?" he asked.

"Platurn," Fergus replied.

"That is right, sir. This is your horse. Here is the letter the count bade me give you, and also this sword," and he unbuckled the one that he wore.

"He bade me wish you God speed."

"Pray tell him that I am sincerely obliged to him for his kindness," Fergus replied, as he buckled on the sword.

The man at once rode off.

The saddle was furnished with valises. These contained several articles he had not thought of buying, among them a warm fur cap with flaps for the ears, and a pair of fur-lined riding gloves. He transferred the remaining articles from the little trunk to the valises, and threw the former away; rolled up his cloak and strapped it behind the saddle; and then mounted. He was glad to find in the holsters a brace of double-barrelled pistols, a powder flask and a bag of bullets, and also a large flask full of spirits.

As he gathered the reins in his hand, he had difficulty in restraining a shout of joy; for with an excellent horse, good arms, warm clothes and a purse sufficiently well lined, he felt he was prepared for all contingencies.

As he moved on at a walk, he opened the count's letter. It contained only a few lines, wishing him a safe journey, and begging him to tell Count Eulenfurst that he regretted he could not do more for his messenger, to prove his goodwill and affection; and also the official document that he had promised to procure for him. Tearing up the count's letter, and putting the official document carefully in his pocket, he pressed his heel against his horse's flank, and started at a canter.

He stopped for the night at Ips, and on the following day rode to Linz. The snow had fallen almost incessantly, and he was glad, indeed, that he had brought the coat as well as the cloak with him.

The next night he halted at Freystadt. As this was a strongly fortified place, commanding the southern exit of the defile from the mountain, he was asked for his papers. The official merely glanced at them, and returned them. He was forced to stay here for several days, as he was assured that it would be all but certain death to endeavour to cross the pass, in such weather.

On the third day the snow ceased falling and, early next morning, a force of 500 men, comprising almost the whole of the garrison, started to beat down the snow, and cut a way through the deep drifts. For four days this work continued, the men being assisted by a regiment that was marched down from Budweis, and opened the defile from the northern end. The pass was an important one, as in winter it was the one chiefly used for communication between Bohemia and Vienna; and it was therefore highly important that it should be maintained in a practicable state.

Fergus was in no hurry to proceed. He knew that there was not the smallest possibility of operations being commenced until the snow disappeared, which might not be until the end of March. He therefore took matters very quietly, keeping entirely indoors as long as the snow continued to fall, and going out as little as possible, afterwards.

He was glad, indeed, when the news came that the pass was clear. As soon as the gates were unlocked he pressed on, in order to get ahead of a large convoy of carts, laden with warm clothing for the soldiers, that was also waiting for the pass to be opened. In spite of all that had been done, it was rough work passing through the defile, and he did not arrive at Krumnau until nearly sunset. Budweis lay but a few miles farther ahead, but he had made up his mind not to stop there, as it was a large garrisoned town, and the small places suited him better.

Passing through the town, next day, he continued his course along the road near the river Moldau. He made but short journeys, for the snow had not yet hardened, and it was very heavy riding. He therefore took four days in getting to Prague.

He thought it probable that here a watch might be kept for him for, had he travelled straight from Spielberg, this was the point for which, in all probability, he would have made; unless he had gone through Silesia, and then travelled up through Breslau. He therefore made a circuit of the picturesque old city, entered it by a western gate, and then rode straight for the bridge. He had slept at a place but four miles distant, and had started at daybreak, so that it was still early in the day when he proceeded on his way.

He stopped at a small town, ten miles farther north. Two or three squadrons of cavalry were quartered there. The landlord at the inn where he put up at once asked for his papers. These he took to the town offices, where they were stamped as being in due order. Half an hour later, as Fergus was at his meal, two officers entered.

"Your papers appear to be right, sir," one of them said courteously; "but in times like these, it is our duty to examine closely into these matters. You come from Vienna?"

"Yes, sir."

"Which way did you travel?"

"By way of Linz and Budweis," he said. "The snow began on the day before I left the capital, and I was advised to take that route, as the road would be more level, and less likely to be blocked with snow than that through Horn. You will see that my paper was stamped at Linz, and also at Freystadt.

"I was detained at the latter place seven days. For the first three it snowed, and for the next four days the garrison was occupied, with the aid of troops from Budweis, in opening the defile."

The officer nodded.

"I happen to know that your story is correct, sir, and that it accounts fully for your movements since leaving Vienna. Which way do you intend to cross the passes into Saxony?"

"I must be guided by what I hear of their state. I had hoped to have got back before the snow began to fall in earnest, but I should think that the road by the river will now be the best."

"I should think so," the officer said, "but even that will be bad enough. However, I will not detain you farther."

They moved away to another table and, calling for a bottle of wine, sat down.

"No, we are mistaken. I don't think the fellow would have the bare-faced impudence to come through Prague," one said.

The other laughed.

"I should think that he would have impudence for anything, major. And in truth, I rather hope that they won't lay hands upon him—a fellow who devised and carried out such a scheme as he did deserves his liberty. Of course, his overpowering the warder was nothing; but that he should have had the impudence to go down into the major's quarters, appropriate his clothes, leave his own uniform behind him; and then, taking advantage of the arrival of another regiment, march calmly out through them all, pass the sentries—who took him for one of the newly-arrived officers in charge of the waggons—was really splendid!

"How it was that they did not overtake him the next morning, I cannot make out. He had no sword with him, and no horse; and the spectacle of a field officer on foot, without even a sword, should have attracted the attention of the very first person who met him. He had not been gone two hours when troops started in pursuit; for when the major, whose door he had locked, had it burst open and found that his uniform was gone, he suspected something was wrong, and had all the sergeants in charge of prisoners mustered.

"One was missing, the man who had charge of this young Scotchman. As he could not be found, the fellow's cell was broken open, and there was the warder, bound and gagged. The bird had flown, and parties of horse were sent off by all the roads leading to Bohemia and Silesia, but no signs of the man have, as far as we have heard, yet been discovered.

"The only thing that I can imagine is that, when he heard the cavalry in pursuit, he left the road and hid up somewhere; and that afterwards he tried to make his way by unfrequented paths, and was starved in the snow. In that case his body is not likely to be found until the spring."

"I cannot help thinking that a fellow who could plan and carry out that escape would hardly be likely to lose his life in a snowdrift. You see, it was not a sudden idea. On no other evening would he have found the gate open after sunset, nor would he have been certain to have found the major absent from his quarters. He must have been waiting patiently for his opportunity and, as soon as he heard that another battalion was coming into the garrison, he must have resolved to act. More than that, he must have calculated that instead of arriving at four o'clock, as they were timed to do, they would be detained and not get in until after dark.

"They are clear-headed fellows, these Scotchmen; whether they are in our army or Frederick's. What makes the affair more wonderful is that this was quite a young fellow, and probably understood no German; but I think that he would have acted more wisely, had he waited until the spring."

"I don't know," the other said. "When once the troops are all in movement north, he certainly could not have escaped in a military uniform without being questioned; and it scarcely seems possible that he could have procured any other. He must be in more of a hurry to fight again than I am."

"There can hardly be much serious fighting," the other said. "With us, Russia, and France, and with the 50,000 Swedes who have been bought by France, we shall have 500,000 men under arms; while we know that 200,000 is the utmost Frederick can muster, and these will have to be scattered in every direction round his frontier."

"I am sorry that France has joined in," the other said. "It is unnatural enough that we and Russia should combine to crush Prussia, but when it comes to our old enemies the French helping us against a German power, I say frankly I don't like it. Besides, though we may get Silesia back again, that will be a small advantage in comparison to the disadvantage of France getting a firm foothold on this side of the Rhine. Even if her share of the partition doesn't extend beyond the river, this will be her frontier nearly down to the sea; and she will have the power of pouring her troops into Germany, whenever she chooses."

Fergus had now finished his meal, and without caring to listen longer he betook himself to bed. To avoid all appearance of haste, he did not start so early the next morning, but mounted at ten and rode to the junction of the Eger with the Elbe. It was too late to cross the river that night, and he therefore put up at a village on the bank, and crossed in a ferry boat on the following morning to Leitmeritz, a town of considerable size.

He was now within a day's ride of the defile through which the Elbe finds its way from Bohemia into Saxony. His papers were inspected, as usual, by the officer in command of a troop of cavalry there.

"You will have a rough time of it, if you push on," he said. "There is no traffic through the passes now, so the snow will lie as it fell, and at any moment it may come down again. As far as the mouth of the pass you will find it easy enough, for we send half a troop as far as that every day; but beyond that I should say it would be all but, if not quite, impassable. I advise you to stay here quietly, until you hear of someone having crossed; or at any rate, if you do go on, you must take three or four peasants as guides, and to help you through difficult places."

"Would it not be possible, captain," Fergus asked, "to hire a boat?"

"I did not think of that. Yes, there are flat boats that at ordinary times go down to Dresden, with the rafts of timber; but whether you would find anyone willing, now, to make such a journey is more than I can say."

"I am very anxious to be back to my business," Fergus said; "and as I should have to pay handsomely for guides to take me over, and even then might lose my life, it would be better for me to pay higher and get through at once."

On going down to the water side he saw several boats hauled up, and it was not long before some boatmen, seeing a stranger examining their craft, came down to him.

"I want to go down to Dresden," he said.

"'Tis a bad time of the year," one of the men replied.

"It is a bad time of the year, as far as cold is concerned; but it is a good time of the year for going down the river," he said; "for now that the frost has set in the river is low and the current gentle, whereas in the spring, when the snow is melting, it must be a raging torrent in some of the narrow defiles."

This evidence that the stranger, whoever he was, was no fool, silenced the boatmen for a minute.

"Now," Fergus went on, "what is the lowest price that one of you will take me and my horse down to Dresden for? I am disposed to pay a fair price and not more, and if you attempt to charge an exorbitant one, I shall take guides and follow the road."

"You would never get through," one of the men said.

"Well, at any rate I would try; and if I could not succeed by the road by the river, I would cross by some other pass. I have no doubt, whatever, I could get through by Graber and Zittau."

The stranger's acquaintance with the country again silenced the men. They talked for a while apart, and then one said:

"We will take you for twenty rix dollars."

"Do you suppose that I am the emperor, in disguise?" Fergus said indignantly. "'Tis but three days' journey, at most, and perhaps six for coming back against the stream."

"We shall need four men, master, and there is the food by the way."

After much bargaining the price was settled at fifteen rix dollars, both parties being satisfied with the bargain; the men because it was more than twice the sum for which they would have been glad to do it, at ordinary times; Fergus because he had still forty rix dollars in his pocket, and had only bargained as he did in order not to appear too anxious on the subject. The price was to include the erection, at one end of the boat, of a snug cover of rushes for his use.

He found, on going down to the shore three hours later, that the boatmen were engaged in covering in the whole of the craft, with the exception of a few feet at each end, with a roof of rushes. The boat itself was some thirty-five feet in length and ten wide, with straight sides and a general resemblance to a canal barge, save that the beam was greater in comparison to the length. The roof was high, and sloped sharply. A tall man could walk along in the centre, while at the sides there was but three feet of height.

Hay and straw were extremely scarce, the whole supply of the country having been stripped by the foraging parties; but bundles of reeds had been thickly littered down, especially near the stern.

Shortly after his return, the landlord of the inn told him that, if he did not want to take the horse with him, he would himself gladly buy it.

"I have frequently to send to Prague for things for the inn; and besides, I have to get provisions for people in the town. I sold my best horse last autumn, to an officer whose charger had been killed. Now that sledging has begun, I want one which can travel fast and do the journey there in a day; so if you don't want to take it, and will accept a reasonable price, I will buy it."

The offer was a welcome one. With two splendid horses at his command—for he knew that good care would have been taken of the one left in camp—a third would only have been in the way; and this, although a good and useful beast, was scarce good-looking enough for an officer on the marshal's staff. Therefore, after the usual amount of bargaining, he parted with it for a fair price.

The next morning early he went on board, the servant of the inn following with a great hamper of wine and provisions. He was glad to see that a bright fire burned on an earthen hearth in the middle of the boat; the smoke finding its way out, partly through a hole cut in the thatch above it, partly by the opening at the fore end of the boat. He brought with him his horse cloth as well as his other belongings. The men, who were clearly in a hurry to be away, pushed the boat off from the shore as soon as he had taken his place.

"We want to be back as soon as we can," the owner of the boat said, "for it will not be long before the ice begins to form, and we don't want to be frozen in."

"It does not feel to me quite so cold this morning," Fergus remarked.

"No, sir; we are going to have more snow. That won't matter to us, and if it snows for the next week, all the better. It is not often that the river closes altogether until after Christmas. In the mountains the river seldom freezes at all. There is too much current, and besides, in shelter of the hills the cold is not so great."

Two oars were got out, for the purpose of steering rather than of hastening the progress of the boat; and once well out in the current, she was allowed to drift quietly with the stream. Fergus spread his horse cloth on the rushes by the fire, and found no need for his sheepskin coat; the cloak, loosely thrown over his shoulders and the collar turned up, to keep off the draughts that blew in under the bottom of the thatch, being sufficient to make him thoroughly comfortable.

There was nothing to see outside, the shore being low and flat. He had brought a large supply of meat with him, and handed over a portion of this to the man who acted as the cook of the crew, and told him to make broth for them all. This was a welcome gift to the crew, who but seldom touched meat; and with the addition of barley, coarse flour, and herbs that they had brought for their own use, an excellent stew was provided. The pot was kept going through the journey, fresh meat and other ingredients being added, from time to time. In addition to this, slices of meat were grilled over the fire, and eaten with the bread they had brought. The gift of a bottle of wine between the crew, each day; and of a small ration of spirits, the last thing in the evening, added greatly to the satisfaction of the men.

By nightfall they arrived at the entrance of the defile. The snow was falling heavily, and they tied up against the bank. Fergus chatted with the men, and listened to their stories of the river, for some hours.

All of them had, at various times, gone on timber rafts. They bewailed the war, which would do them much harm. It would not altogether interrupt trade, for timber would be required, as usual, in Saxony and Hanover. As a rule, neither of the contending armies interfered with the river traffic; though communications by land were greatly interrupted, owing to the peasants' carts being impressed for military service. This, and the anxiety of everyone for the safety of his home and belongings, brought the trade between the countries to a standstill.

On the river, however, the difficulty consisted, not in any interference by the authorities, but from so large a number of the able-bodied men being called out for service that the amount of timber cut and brought down was greatly diminished, while the needs of the army brought the trade in cattle and other produce to an entire cessation.

The dangers of the river were not great; although in spring, when the snow melted and the river was swollen, navigation was rendered, especially in the narrow reaches of the defile, difficult and dangerous; for the force of the stream was so great that it was well-nigh impossible to direct the course of the rafts, and indeed the poles used for that purpose were often found too short to reach the bottom.

The men were up long before daylight; but it was two hours later before Fergus roused himself and, shaking off the fine snow that had drifted in and lay thickly on his coat, went out to have a look at things. One of the men was already preparing breakfast. Two of the others stood at the bow with long poles, with which they punted the boat along. The captain, also provided with a pole, stood in the stern.

The snow had ceased, but the air felt sharp and cold as it came down from the hills, which were all thickly covered.

"So there is an end of the snow, for the present, captain," he said, as he pushed aside the curtain of reeds that closed the stern of the covered portion, and joined him.

"Yes. I am not altogether sorry, for we can see where we are going. We shall keep on, now, until we are through the defile."

"But there is no moon, captain."

"No, but we can tell pretty well, by the depth of water, where we are; and can manage to keep in the middle of the current. There are no obstructions there to affect us, though in some places there are plenty of ugly rocks near the shore. However, if we have luck we shall be through before midnight, and shall pass all the worst points before sunset."

The day passed, indeed, without adventure of any kind. The journey was highly interesting to Fergus, for the scenery was very picturesque. Sometimes the hills narrowed in, and the stream, straitened in its course, hastened its speed; at others the hills receded, and were covered far up with forests; above which bleak mountain tops, with their mantle of snow, rose high in the air. The captain pointed out the spot where the Saxons had crossed; and where, pent in and surrounded with batteries commanding every means of exit, they were forced to surrender.

"It is smooth work now," he said, as they were going through one of the narrows, "for the river is low and the current gentle; but in floods there are waves, here, that would swamp the boat did she keep out in the middle, as we are doing; and it would be impossible to pole her against it, even close to the shore. You see, the ice is forming already near the banks."

"How do you manage coming back?"

"In some places we can pole the boat. She will be light, and will only draw a few inches of water. Then we hire a horse for a bit, at one of these little villages; or, where the road leaves the river, the other three will get out and tow from the edge, while I shall steer. We shall manage it easily enough, if the ice does not form too thickly.

"If the worst comes to the worst, we should stop at one of the villages, get the people to help us to haul her well up, wait till the snows are quite over, and then make our way back on foot, and come and fetch the boat up when the spring floods are over."

"Then the pass is not so dangerous after all, captain," Fergus said with a smile.

"Not when the snow has once hardened, and to men accustomed to it. As soon as the weather gets settled there will be a little traffic, and the snow will be beaten down. Besides, where the hills come steep to the water's edge, a man on foot can always make his way along when the water is low; though a horseman might not be able to do so."

"In fact, I suppose," Fergus said, "you all combine, at Leitmeritz, to represent the passes as being a great deal more dangerous than they are; in order to force those obliged to make the journey to take as many men as possible with him, or to pay two or three times the proper fare, by boat."

"The passes over the hills would be terrible, now," the man said. "Most of them would be absolutely impassable, until the snow hardens.

"As for the rest," he added with a smile, "it may be that there is something in what you say; but you see, times are hard. There is little work to be done, and scarce any timber coming down; and if we did not get a good job, occasionally, it would go very hard with us."

By nightfall they were nearly through the defile. Lanterns were placed in the bow of the boat and, until long after Fergus was asleep, the men continued to work at their poles. When he woke up in the morning the boat was floating down a quiet river, with the plains of Saxony on either side, and the mountain range far astern.

At noon they neared Dresden, and an hour later Fergus stepped ashore. He paid the men the sum arranged, and handed over to them the rest of his provisions, which would be sufficient to carry them far on their way back.

He soon learnt that Marshal Keith was established in his old quarters, and made his way thither. He met two or three officers of his acquaintance, but no one recognized him in his present attire. He had hired a boy, when he landed, to carry his cloak and valises. The saddle and bridle he had sold with the horse.

He was, as usual, passing the sentries at the gate without notice, when one of them stepped in front of him.

"What is your business, sir?"

"My business is with Marshal Keith," he said, "and it is particular."

The sentry called a sergeant of the guard.

"You can pass me up," Fergus said sharply. "I am well known to Marshal Keith, and he will assuredly see me."

A soldier took him up to the anteroom. Lieutenant Lindsay, who was on duty, came forward, looked at him doubtfully for a moment, and then shouted joyfully:

"Why, Drummond, is it you? This is indeed a joyful meeting, old fellow. I had thought of you as immured in one of the enemy's fortresses, and as likely to remain there till the war was over, and now here you are! The marshal will be delighted."

"He cannot be more pleased than I am to be back again, Lindsay. Is he alone?"

"Yes. Come in at once. I won't announce you."

He opened the door.

"A gentleman to see you, marshal," he said, and Fergus walked in.

The marshal recognized him at once and, holding out both hands, shook those of Fergus cordially.

"I am indeed glad to see you," he said. "We knew that you were unhurt, for on the morning after the battle we sent in a parlementaire to Browne with the list of prisoners taken, and received his list in return; and as your name was among them, and you were not put down as wounded, my anxiety about you was relieved. We tried a month later to get exchanges, but they would not hear of it. In the first place, there is no doubt that the king's action, in incorporating the Saxons with our army, has caused a strong feeling against him; and in the second, they had plenty of fortresses in which to stow their prisoners, while they would calculate that the more prisoners we had to look after, the fewer men they would have to fight.

"And now, tell me by what miracle you have got here. I have nothing particular to do.

"Lindsay, you may as well stop and hear the story. Tell the sergeant to call you out if any one in particular comes; to everyone else, I am engaged.

"Or stay," he broke off, "they have just told me that luncheon is ready in the next room. A story is always better told over a bottle of wine, so tell the sergeant, Lindsay, that for the next hour I can see no one, unless it is on very particular business.

"Now, in the first place, Captain Drummond.

"Oh, of course, you have not heard!" he broke off, in answer to Fergus's look of surprise. "The king and I watched you charge through that Austrian squadron, and when he saw you reach our cavalry in safety, and they turned to come back, he ordered me at once to make out your commission as captain. I ventured to object that you were very young. He said you had saved half his cavalry, and that he would promote you, if you were an infant in arms."

"It is really absurd, marshal. I shall feel downright ashamed to be called captain by men still lieutenants, though a dozen years older than I am. I fear I have gone over Lindsay's head."

"You need not mind me, Drummond," Lindsay laughed. "I shall have a chance, one of these days; but not a soul will grudge you your promotion. There were many of us who saw your charge; and I can tell you that it was the talk of the whole army, next day, and it was thoroughly recognized that it saved the cavalry; for their commander would certainly have taken them against the Austrians and, if he had, it is equally certain that none of them would have got back again; and when your name appeared in orders the next day, we all felt that no one ever better deserved promotion."

"The king inquired especially, as soon as the list came, whether you were wounded, Fergus," Keith said; "and was very much pleased when he heard that you were not.

"Now, let us hear how you come to be here."

The marshal laughed heartily, when Fergus told of his escape in the disguise of an Austrian field officer.

"It was most admirably managed, Fergus," he said, when the tale was finished; "and your making for Vienna, instead of for the frontier, was a masterly stroke. Of course your finding a friend there was most fortunate; but even had you not done so, I have no doubt you would have got through, somehow. I think the best idea of all was your taking the post horses, and then getting a fresh suit of clothes from the postmaster.

"I am glad you ordered the major's suit of clothes to be sent back to him. I should have liked to have seen his face when he found that not only his uniform, but his prisoner, had disappeared.

"It will be a good story to tell the king. He has sore troubles enough on his shoulders, for the difficulties are thickening round; and although Frederick is a born general, he really loves peace, and quiet, and books, and the society of a few friends, far better than the turmoil into which we are plunged.

"The French are going to open the campaign, in the spring, with an army of a hundred thousand men. Russia will invade the east frontier with certainly as many more, perhaps a hundred and fifty thousand. They say these rascally Swedes, who have not a shadow of quarrel against us, intend to land fifty thousand men in Pomerania; and that Austria will put two hundred and fifty thousand in the field. Even tempered and self relying as the king is, all this is enough to drive him to despair; and anything that will interest him for an hour, and make him forget his difficulties, is very welcome."

The marshal asked many questions for, as he said, the king would like to know all the ins and outs of the matter; and he knew that Fergus would much rather that the story should be told the king by another, than that he should be called upon to do so.

"I hope the horse came back safely, Lindsay?" Fergus asked, as they left the marshal's apartments.

"Oh, yes! He went back with the convoy of wounded, and he is now safe in Keith's stable. The other is, of course, at the count's. I sent your things back at the same time, and when we returned here I packed everything up and sewed them in a sack. They are all in the storeroom."

"What has become of Karl? Did he get safely back?"

"Yes; but he had a nasty sabre wound he got in the charge, and he was in hospital for six weeks. The king gave him a handsome present, on the day after he came in; and would have given him a commission, if he would have taken it, but he declined altogether, saying that he was very comfortable as he was. His colonel would have made him a sergeant at once, but he refused that also.

"Just at present he is still looking after your horse, and helping generally in Keith's stable. His wound was on the head, and he is scarcely fit for duty with his regiment, so of course he will now fall in to his place with you again."

Fergus went down to the stable, where he was received with the greatest delight by Karl; whose pride in his master was great, after his exploit at Count Eulenfurst's, and had been heightened by the feeling excited in the army at his having saved the cavalry from destruction.

"I thought that you would be back by the spring, Captain," he said. "Donald and I have talked it over, many a time, and we were of one mind that, if any one could get away from an Austrian prison, you would do it."



Chapter 8: Prague.

The next morning Fergus rode over to see Count Eulenfurst, found him quite restored to health, and was received by him, the countess, and Thirza with great pleasure.



"My return in safety is in no small degree due to you, count. Had it not been for the letter to Count Platurn, with which the countess furnished me, I doubt whether I should have been able to get through; or at any rate, if I had done so it could only have been with many hardships and dangers, and certainly great delay."

"I have no doubt that the help you received from the count was of considerable assistance to you, and lessened your difficulties much, Captain Drummond; but I am sure you would have managed, without it. Had you formed any plans as to what you would have done, had you found him absent?"

"I had thought of several things, count, but I had settled on nothing. I should have remained but a day in Vienna, and should have exchanged the suit I had got from the innkeeper for some other. My idea was that I had best join one of the convoys of provisions going up to Bohemia. I calculated that I should have no difficulty in obtaining a place as a driver, for of course the service is not popular, and any of the men would have been glad enough for me to take his place. I might thus have got forward as far as Prague. After that I must have taken my chance, and I think I could, in the same sort of way, have got as far as Leitmeritz; but there I might have been detained for a very long time, until there was an opportunity of crossing the defiles. It would have been difficult, indeed, for me to have earned my living there; and what was left of the money I had, after paying for the landlord's suit, would scarce have lasted, with the closest pinching, till spring."

"You would have managed it somehow, I am sure," Thirza said confidently. "After getting out of that strong fortress, it would be nothing to get out of Bohemia into Saxony."

"We have not congratulated you yet," the countess said, "upon your last promotion. Lieutenant Lindsay came over to tell us about it, and how you had gained it. Of course we were greatly pleased, although grieved to hear that you had been made prisoner. We wondered whether, at the time you were captured, you had any of the letters I had written with you, and whether they would come in useful.

"It did not even occur to me that you would have called upon Count Platurn, my cousin. I thought that you might be detained at Prague, but Vienna is the last place where we should have pictured you. Had we known that you had been sent to Spielberg, I think we should have given up all hope of seeing you again, until you were exchanged; for I have heard that it is one of the strongest of the Austrian fortresses.

"I do hope, Captain Drummond, we shall see a great deal of you this winter. There will not be many gaieties, though no doubt there will be some state balls; but there will be many little gatherings, as usual, among ourselves, and we shall count upon you to attend them always, unless you are detained on service. We learn that it is probable your king will pass the whole of the winter here."

"We will send your horse down to you today," the count said. "You will find him in good condition. He has been regularly exercised."

"Thank you very much, count. I wrote to you before I started, but I have had no opportunity of thanking you, personally, for those splendid animals. Sorry as I was to lose the horse I rode at Lobositz, I congratulated myself that I was not riding one of yours."

"I should have had no difficulty in replacing him, Captain Drummond," the count said with a smile. "The least we can do is to keep you in horse flesh while the war lasts; which I hope will not be very long, for surely your king can never hope to make head against the forces that will assail him in the spring, but will be glad to make peace on any terms."

"No doubt he would be glad to, count; but as his enemies propose to divide his dominions among them, it is not very clear what terms he could make. But though I grant that, on paper, the odds against him is enormous, I think that you will see there will be some hard fighting yet, before Prussia is partitioned."

"Perhaps so," the count replied; "but surely the end must be the same. You know I have been a strong opponent of the course taken by the court here. Saxony and Prussia, as Protestant countries, should be natural allies; and I consider it is infamous that the court, or rather Bruhl, who is all powerful, should have joined in a coalition against Frederick, who had given us no cause of complaint, whatever. My sympathies, then, are wholly with him; but I can see no hope, whatever, of his successfully resisting this tremendous combination."

"Various things might happen, count. The Empresses of Russia or Austria or the Pompadour might die, or the allies might quarrel between themselves. England may find some capable statesman, who will once again get an army together and, joined perhaps by the Netherlands, give France so much to do that she will not be able to give much help to her allies."

"Yes, all these things might happen; but Frederick's first campaign has been, to a great extent, a failure. It is true that he has established Saxony as his base, but the Saxon troops will be of no advantage to him. He would have acted much more wisely had he, on their surrender, allowed them to disband and go to their homes.. Many then might have enlisted voluntarily. The country would not have had a legitimate grievance, and the common religious tie would soon have turned the scale in favour of Prussia; who, as all see, has been driven to this invasion by our court's intrigues with Austria. Had he done this he could have marched straight to Prague, have overrun all Bohemia, established his headquarters there, and menaced Vienna itself in the spring."

"Looking at it coolly, that might have been the best way, count; but a man who finds that three or four of his neighbours have entered into a plot to attack his house, and seize all his goods, may be pardoned if he does not at first go the very wisest way to work."

The count laughed.

"I hope that the next campaign will turn out differently; but I own that I can scarce see a possibility of Prussia, alone, making head against the dangers that surround her."

The winter passed quietly. There were fetes, state balls, and many private entertainments; for while all Europe was indignant, or pretended to be so, at the occupation of Saxony, the people of that country were by no means so angry on their own account. They were no more heavily taxed by Frederick than they were by their own court and, now that the published treaty between the Confederates had made it evident that the country, without its own consent, had been deeply engaged in a conspiracy hostile to Prussia, none could deny that Frederick was amply justified in the step he had taken.

At these parties, only Prussian officers who were personal friends of the host were invited; but Fergus, who had been introduced by Count Eulenfurst to all his acquaintances, was always asked, and was requested to bring with him a few of his personal friends. Lindsay, therefore, was generally his companion, and was, indeed, in a short time invited for his own sake; for the Scottish officers were regarded in a different light to the Prussians, and their pleasant manners and frank gaiety made them general favourites.

Their duties as aides-de-camp were now light, indeed; although both were, two or three times, sent with despatches to Berlin; and even to more distant parts of Prussia, where preparations for the coming campaign were being made on a great scale.

The whole Prussian population were united. It was a war not for conquest but for existence, and all classes responded cheerfully to the royal demands. These were confined to orders for drafts of men, for no new tax of any kind was laid on the people; the expenses of the war being met entirely from the treasure that had, since the termination of the Silesian war, been steadily accumulating, a fixed sum being laid by every year to meet any emergency that might arise.

Towards spring both parties were ready to take the field. The allies had 430,000 men ready for service. Frederick had 150,000 well-trained soldiers, while 40,000 newly-raised troops were posted in fortresses, at points most open to invasion. The odds were indeed sufficient to appall even the steadfast heart of Frederick of Prussia; but no one would have judged, from the calm and tranquil manner in which the king made his arrangements to meet the storm, that he had any doubt as to the issue.

Man for man, the Prussian soldier of the time was the finest in the world. He was splendidly drilled, absolutely obedient to orders, and filled with implicit confidence in his king and his comrades. He had been taught to march with extraordinary rapidity, and at the same time to manoeuvre with the regularity and perfection of a machine; and could be trusted, in all emergencies, to do everything that man was capable of.

The French army, 110,000 strong, was the first to move. Another 30,000 men were preparing to march, to join the army that had been got up by that mixed body, the German Federation. The main force was to move through Hanover.

To oppose them was a mixed army, maintained by British money, comprising Hanoverians, Brunswickers, and Hessians, some 50,000 strong, commanded by the Duke of Cumberland. With these were some 5000 Prussians; who had, by Frederick's orders, evacuated the frontier fortresses and joined what was called the British army of observation. Frederick prepared, for the present, to deal with the Austrians; intending, if successful against them, to send off 25,000 men to strengthen Cumberland's army. The proposed Swedish invasion was altogether disregarded; but thirty thousand men, principally militia, were posted to check the Russian invasion.

So quiet had been the preparations, that none of their enemies dreamt that the Prussians would assume the offensive, but considered that they would confine their efforts to defending the defiles into Saxony and Silesia. But this was not Frederick's idea. As spring approached, he had been busy redistributing his troops from their winter cantonment, and preparing three armies for the invasion of Bohemia. April had been a busy month for the staff, and the aides-de-camp had passed their days, and even their nights, on horseback.

At last all was in readiness for the delivery of the stroke, and on the 20th the king started from Lockwitch, facing the old Saxon camp at Pirna; the Duke of Bevern from Lousitz; and Marshal Schwerin from Schlesien; and without the slightest warning, the three great columns poured down into Bohemia.

The movement took the Austrians absolutely by surprise. Not dreaming of such a step on Frederick's part, they had prepared, near the frontier, vast magazines for the supply of their advancing army. These had to be abandoned in the greatest haste, and a sufficient amount of food to supply the entire army, for three months, fell into the hands of the Prussians. Marshal Browne and General Konigseck, who commanded the Austrian armies in Bohemia, fell back to Prague with the greatest speed that they could make.

The light irregular corps, that Frederick had raised during the winter and placed under experienced and energetic officers, pervaded the whole country, capturing magazines and towns, putting some to ransom, dispersing small bodies of the enemy, and spreading terror far and wide. Browne succeeded in reaching Prague before the king could come up to him. Bevern, however, overtook Konigseck, and greatly hastened his retreat; killing a thousand men and taking five hundred prisoners, after which Konigseck reached Prague without further molestation, the Duke of Bevern joining Schwerin's column.

The Austrians retired through Prague and encamped on high ground on the south side of the city, Prince Karl being now in command of the whole. Had this prince been possessed of military talents, or listened to Marshal Browne's advice, instead of taking up a defensive position he would have marched with his whole army against the king, whose force he would very greatly have outnumbered; but instead of doing so, he remained inactive.

On the 2nd of May, twelve days after moving from Saxony, Frederick arrived within sight of Prague. So closely had he followed the retreating Austrians that he occupied, that evening, a monastery at which Prince Karl and Marshal Browne had slept the night before. Thirty thousand men, who were under the command of Marshal Keith, were left to watch Prague and its garrison; while Frederick, on Tuesday, searched for a spot where he could cross the river and effect a junction with Schwerin. He knew his position, and had arranged that three cannon shots were to be the signal that the river had been crossed.

A pontoon bridge was rapidly thrown over, the signal was given, and the Prussians poured across it; and before the whole were over Schwerin's light cavalry came up, and an arrangement was made that the two forces should meet, at six o'clock next morning, at a spot within two miles of the Austrian camp on the Lisca hills.

[Map: Battle of Prague]

All this time the Austrians stood inactive, and permitted the Prussian columns to join hands without the slightest attempt to interfere with them. Had Browne been in command, very different steps would have been taken; but Prince Karl was indolent, self confident, and opinionated, and had set his army to work to strengthen its position in every possible manner. This was naturally extremely strong, its right flank being covered by swampy ground formed by a chain of ponds; from which the water was let off in the winter, and the ground sown with oats. These were now a brilliant green, and to the eyes of Frederick and his generals, surveying them from the distance, had the aspect of ordinary meadows. The whole ground was commanded by redoubts and batteries on the hill, which rose precipitately seven or eight hundred feet behind the position. In the batteries were sixty heavy cannon; while there were, in addition, one hundred and fifty field guns.

Well might Prince Karl think his position altogether unassailable, and believe that, if the Prussians were mad enough to attack, they would be destroyed. Frederick and Schwerin spent much time in surveying the position, and agreed that on two sides the Austrian position was absolutely impregnable; but that on the right flank, attack was possible. Schwerin would fain have waited until the next morning, since his troops were fatigued by their long marches, and had been on foot since midnight. The Austrians, however, were expecting a reinforcement of thirty thousand men, under Daun, to join them hourly; and the king therefore decided on an attack, the terrible obstacles presented by the swamps being altogether unnoticed.

With incredible speed the Prussians moved away to their left, and by eleven o'clock were in readiness to attack the right flank of the Austrian position. Browne, however, was in command here and, as soon as the intention of the Prussians was perceived, he swung back the right wing of the army at right angles to its original position, so that he presented a front to the Prussian attack; massing thickly at Sterbold, a village at the edge of the swamps. Rapidly the whole of the artillery and cavalry were formed up on this face and, quick as had been the advance of the Prussians, the Austrians were perfectly ready to meet them.

Led by General Winterfeld, the Prussians rushed forward; but as they advanced, a terrific artillery fire was opened upon them. Winterfeld was wounded severely, and the troops fell back.

The main body now advanced, under Schwerin, and the whole again pressed forward. In spite of the incessant rain of grape and case shot, the Prussians advanced until they reached the pleasant green meadows they had seen in the distance. Then the real nature of the ground was at once disclosed.

The troops sunk to the knee, and in many cases to the waist, in the treacherous mud. Soldiers less valiant and less disciplined would have shrunk, appalled at the obstacle; but the Prussians struggled on, dragging themselves forward with the greatest difficulty through mud, through slush, through a rain of grape from upwards of two hundred cannon, and through a storm of musketry fire from the infantry. Regiment after regiment, as it reached the edge of the dismal swamp, plunged in unhesitatingly, crawling and struggling onward.

Never in the annals of warfare was there a more terrible fight. For three hours it continued, without a moment's interval. Thousands of the assailants had fallen, and their bodies had been trodden deep into the swamp, as their comrades pressed after them. Sometimes a regiment struggled back out of the mire, thinking it beyond mortal power to win victory under such terms; but the next moment they reformed and flung themselves into the fight again. Schwerin, seeing the regiment named after him recoil, placed himself at their head; and shouting, "Follow me, my sons!" led them till he fell dead, struck by five grape shot.

The Austrians fought as stoutly, Marshal Browne leading them till a cannonball took off his foot, and he was carried into Prague, to die there six weeks later.

While this terrible struggle was going on, the Prussian cavalry had made a very wide circuit round the ponds and lakelets, and charged the Austrian horse on Browne's extreme right. The first lines were broken by it, but so many and strong were they that the Prussians were brought to a standstill. Then they drew back and charged a second, and a third time.

The Austrians gave way. Prince Karl himself, brave if incapable, did his best to rally them, but in vain; and at last they fled in headlong rout, pursued for many miles by Ziethen's horsemen.

Still the infantry struggle was maintained. At last the Prussian right wing, hitherto not engaged, though suffering from the artillery fire on the heights, had their turn. General Mannstein discovered that, at the angle where Browne threw back the right wing of the army to face the Prussians, there was a gap. The troops there had gradually pressed more to their right, to take part in the tremendous conflict; and the elbow was, therefore, defended only by a half-moon battery.

Through the fish tanks he led the way, followed by Princes Henry and Ferdinand. The whole division struggled through the mud, drove back the Austrians hastily brought up to oppose them, captured the battery, and poured into the gap; thereby cutting the Austrian army in two, and taking both halves in flank.

This was the deciding point of the battle. The Austrian right, already holding its own with difficulty, was crumpled up and forced to fall back hastily. The other half of the army, isolated by the irruption, threw itself back and endeavoured to make a fresh stand at spots defended by batteries and stockades.

But all was in vain. The Prussians pressed forward exultingly, the fresh troops leading the way. In spite of the confusion occasioned by the loss of their commanders, and of the surprise caused by the sudden breakup of their line by the inrush of Mannstein and the princes, the Austrians fought stoutly. Four times they made a stand, but the Prussians were not to be denied. The Austrian guns that had been captured were turned against them and, at last giving way they fled for Prague, where some 40,000 of them rushed for shelter, while 15,000 fled up the valley of the Moldau.

Had it not been that an accident upset Frederick's calculations, the greater portion of the Austrians would have been obliged to lay down their arms. Prince Maurice of Dessau had been ordered to move with the right wing of Keith's army, 15,000 strong, to take up a position in the Austrian rear. This position he should have reached hours before, but in his passage down a narrow lane, some of the pontoons for bridging the river were injured. When the bridge was put together, it proved too short to reach the opposite bank.

The cavalry in vain endeavoured to swim the river. The stream was too strong, and Frederick's masterly combination broke down; and the bulk of the Austrians, instead of being forced to surrender, were simply shut up in Prague with its garrison.

The battle of Prague was one of the fiercest ever fought. The Austrian army had improved wonderfully, since the Silesian war. Their artillery were specially good, their infantry had adopted many of the Prussian improvements and, had Browne been in sole command, and had he escaped unwounded, the issue of the day might have been changed. The Prussians lost 12,500 men, killed and wounded; the Austrians, including prisoners, 13,300. Frederick himself put the losses higher, estimating that of the Austrians at 24,000, of whom 5000 were prisoners, that of the Prussians at 18,000, "without counting Marshal Schwerin, who alone was worth about 10,000."

It is evident that the king's estimate of the loss of the Austrians must have been excessive. They had the advantage of standing on the defensive. The Prussian guns did but comparatively little service, while their own strong batteries played with tremendous effect upon the Prussians, struggling waist deep in the mud. There can therefore be little doubt that the latter must have suffered, in killed and wounded, a much heavier loss than the Austrians.

Impassive as he was, and accustomed to show his feelings but little, Frederick was deeply affected at the loss of his trusted general, and of the splendid soldiers who had been so long and carefully trained; and even had Prague fallen, the victory would have been a disastrous one for him; for, threatened as he was by overwhelming forces, the loss of 5000 men, to him, was quite as serious as that of 20,000 men to the Confederates.

In Keith's army there had been considerable disappointment, when it became known that they were to remain impassive spectators of the struggle, and that while their comrades were fighting, they had simply to blockade the northern side of the city.

"You will have plenty of opportunities," the marshal said quietly to his aides-de-camp, on seeing their downcast look. "This war is but beginning. It will be our turn, next time. For it is a great task the king has set himself, in attempting to carry the strong position that the Austrians have taken up; and he will not do it without very heavy loss. Tomorrow you may have reason to congratulate yourselves that we have had no share in the business."

Nevertheless, as the day went on, and the tremendous roar of battle rolled down upon them—terrible, continuous, and never ceasing, for three hours—even Keith walked, in a state of feverish anxiety, backwards and forwards in front of his tent; while the troops stood in groups, talking in low tones, and trying to pierce with their eyes the dun-coloured cloud of smoke that hung over the combatants on the other side of Prague.

When at last the din of battle went rolling down towards that city, the feeling of joy was intense. In many, the relief from the tension and the long excitement was so great that they burst into tears. Some shook hands with each other, others threw their caps into the air, and then a few voices burst into the well-known verse of the church hymn:

Nun danket alle Gott, Mit herzen, mund und haenden. Of which our English translation runs: Now thank we all our God, With hands and hearts and voices.

And in a moment it was taken up by 30,000 deep voices, in a solemn chorus, the regimental bands at once joining in the jubilant thanksgiving. Pious men were these honest, Protestant, hard-fighting soldiers; and very frequently, on their long marches, they beguiled the way by the stirring hymns of the church. Keith and those around him stood bare-headed, as the hymn was sung, and not a word was spoken for some time after the strains had subsided.

"That is good to listen to," Keith said, breaking the silence. "We have often heard the psalm singing of Cromwell's Ironsides spoken of, with something like contempt; but we can understand, now, how men who sing like that, with all their hearts, should be almost invincible."

"It is the grandest thing that I have ever heard, marshal," Fergus said. "Of course, I have heard them when they were marching, but it did not sound like this."

"No, Fergus; it was the appropriateness of the occasion, and perhaps the depth of the feelings of the men, and our own sense of immense relief, that made it so striking.

"Listen! There is a fresh outburst of firing. The Austrians have fallen back, but they are fighting stoutly."

The chief effect of this great battle was of a moral, rather than material kind. Prague was not a strong place, but with a garrison of 50,000 men it was too well defended to assault; and until it was taken Frederick could not march on, as he had intended, and leave so great a force in the rear.

The moral effect was, however, enormous. The allies had deemed that they had a ridiculously easy task before them, and that Frederick would have to retreat before their advancing armies, and must at last see that there was nothing but surrender before him. That he should have emerged from behind the shelter of the Saxon hills, and have shattered the most formidable army of those that threatened him, on ground of their own choosing, intrenched and fortified, caused a feeling of consternation and dismay. The French army, the Russians, and the united force of the French with the German Confederacy were all arrested on their march, and a month elapsed before they were again set in motion.

Marshal Daun, who had arrived at Erdwise, fell back at once when the news reached him and, taking post at the entrance of the defile, he made the greatest efforts to increase his army. Reinforcements were sent to him from Vienna and all the adjacent country. The Duke of Bevern was posted with 20,000 men to watch him; and Frederick sat down, with all his force, to capture Prague.

The siege train was hurried up from Dresden, and on the 9th of May his batteries on the south side of the city, and those of Keith on the north, opened fire on the city. For a month missiles were poured into the town. Magazines were blown up, and terrible destruction done, but the garrison held out firmly. At times they made sorties, but these were always driven in again, with much loss. But 50,000 men behind fortifications, however weak, were not to be attacked. Every approach to the city was closely guarded, but it became at last evident that, as long as the provisions held out, Prague was not to be taken.

The cannonade became less incessant, and after a month almost died away; for Daun had by this time gathered a large army, and it was evident that another great battle would have to be fought. If this was won by the Prussians, Prague would be forced to surrender. If not, the city was saved.

It was not until the 12th of June that Daun, a cautious and careful general, in accordance with urgent orders from Vienna prepared to advance. His force had now grown to 60,000; 40,000 of the garrison of Prague could be spared, to issue out to help him. Frederick had under 70,000, and of these a great portion must remain to guard their siege works. Thus, then, all the advantages lay with the relieving army.

Several officers in disguise were despatched, by Daun, to carry into Prague the news of his advance; and to warn Prince Karl to sally out, with the whole of his force, and fall upon the Prussians as soon as he attacked them in the rear. So vigilant, however, were the besiegers that none of these messengers succeeded in entering Prague.

On the 13th Frederick set out, with 10,000 men—to be followed by 4000 more under Prince Maurice, two days later, these being all that could be spared from the siege works—to join Bevern, who had fallen back as Daun advanced. The junction effected, Frederick joined Bevern and approached Daun, who was posted in a strong position near Kolin, thirty-five miles from Prague. On the 17th Prince Maurice arrived, and after several changes of position the armies faced each other on the 18th, within a short distance of Kolin.

Daun's new position was also a strong one, and was, in fact, only to be assailed on its right; and the Prussian army was moved in that direction, their order being to pay no attention to the Austrian batteries or musketry fire, but to march steadily to the spot indicated. This was done. Ziethen dashed with his hussars upon the Austrian cavalry, drawn up to bar the way; defeated them, and drove them far from the field; while Hulsen's division of infantry carried the village of Preezer, on the Austrian flank, in spite of the Austrian batteries. So far Frederick's combination had worked admirably.

Hulsen then attacked a wood behind it, strongly held by the Austrians. Here a struggle commenced which lasted the whole day, the wood being several times taken and lost. He was not supported, owing to a mistake that entirely upset Frederick's plan of battle.

While three miles away from the point where the attack was to be delivered, Mannstein, whose quickness of inspiration had largely contributed to the victory of Prague, now ruined Frederick's plan by his impetuosity. The corn fields, through which his division was marching towards the assault of the Austrian left, were full of Croats; who kept up so galling a fire that, losing all patience, he turned and attacked them.

The regiment to which he gave the order cleared the Croats off; but these returned, strongly reinforced. The regiments coming behind, supposing that fresh orders had arrived, also turned off; and in a short time the whole division, whose support was so sorely needed by Hulsen, were assaulting the almost impregnable Austrian position in front.

Another mistake—this time arising from a misconception of a too brief and positive order, given by Frederick himself—led Prince Maurice, who commanded the Prussian centre, to hurl himself in like manner against the Austrians.

For four hours the battle raged. In spite of their disadvantages, the Prussians fought so desperately that Daun believed the day to be lost, and sent orders to the troops to retreat to Suchdol; but the commander of the Saxon cavalry considered the order premature and, gathering a large body of Austrian infantry, charged with them and his own cavalry so furiously upon Hulsen that the latter was forced to retreat.

The movement spread, the attack slackened, and the other division moved down the hill. They had all but won. Frederick in vain tried to rally and lead them afresh to the attack. They had done all that men could do, and the battle ceased. Daun scarcely attempted to pursue, and the Prussians marched away, unmolested even by cavalry; some of the regiments remaining firm in their position until nightfall, repulsing with great loss the one attempt of the Austrians at pursuit; and Ziethen's cavalry did not draw off until ten at night.

The Austrians had 60,000 men in the field, of whom they lost in killed and wounded 8114. The Prussians, who began the day 34,000 strong, lost 13,773; of whom the prisoners, including all the wounded, amounted to 5380.

The news of the disaster, and with it Frederick's order to prepare to raise the siege of Prague at once, came like a thunderclap upon the Prussian camp. Frederick himself, and the remnant of his army, arrived there in good order, with all their baggage train, a day later. The cannon were removed from the batteries, the magazines emptied; and in good order, and without any attempt on the part of the Austrian garrison to molest them, the Prussian army marched away and took up their post at Leitmeritz.

The news that an Austrian army had at last beaten Frederick, and that Prague was saved, caused an exultation and joy, among the allies, equal to the dismay that had been aroused by the defeat at Prague; although there was nothing remarkable, or worth much congratulation, in the fact that an army, in an almost impregnable position, had repulsed the attack of another of little over half its strength.



Chapter 9: In Disguise.

Leitmeritz, lying as it did but a short distance beyond the mouth of the defiles leading into Saxony, was an admirably chosen position. Supplies for the army could be brought up by the Elbe, and a retreat was assured, should an overwhelming force advance to the attack; while from this spot Frederick could march, at once, either to the defence of Silesia, or to check an enemy approaching from the west towards the defiles through the mountains.

The news of the defeat at Kolin set all the enemies of Prussia in movement. The Russian army entered East Prussia, where there was no adequate force to oppose it; the Swedes issued from Stralsund; the French pressed hard upon the so-called British column of observation, and forced the Duke of Cumberland to retreat before them. Another French army, in conjunction with that of the German Confederacy, threatened the western passes into Saxony.

As yet, it was impossible to say where Marshal Daun and Prince Karl would deliver their blow, and great efforts were made to fill up the terrible gaps created at Prague and Kolin, in the regiments most hotly engaged, with fresh troops; who were speedily rendered, by incessant drills and discipline, fit to take their places in the ranks with the veterans.

The king was lodged in the cathedral close of the city. Keith with his division occupied the other side of the river, across which a bridge was at once thrown. Prince Maurice and Bevern had gone to Bunzlau, at the junction of the Iser and Elbe; but when, upon a crowd of light Austrian horse approaching, the Prince sent to the king to ask whether he should retreat, he was at once recalled, and the Prince of Prussia appointed in his stead.

On the 2nd of July came news which, on the top of his other troubles, almost prostrated Frederick. This was of the death of his mother, to whom he was most fondly attached. He retired from public view for some days; for although he was as iron in the hour of battle, he was a man of very sensitive disposition, and fondly attached to his family.

His chief confidant during this sad time was the English ambassador, Mitchell; a bluff, shrewd, hearty man, for whom the king had conceived a close friendship. He had accompanied Frederick from the time he left Berlin, and had even been near him on the battlefields; and it was in no small degree due to his despatches and correspondence that we have obtained so close a view of Frederick, the man, as distinct from Frederick the king and general.

The Prince of Prussia, however, did no better than Prince Maurice. The main Austrian army, after much hesitation, at last crossed the Elbe and moved against him; thinking, doubtless, that he was a less formidable antagonist than the king. The prince fell back, but in such hesitating and blundering fashion that he allowed the Austrians to get between him and his base, the town of Zittau, where his magazines had been established.

Zittau stood at the foot of the mountain, and was a Saxon town. The Austrians had come to deliver Saxony, and they began the work by firing red-hot balls into Zittau, thereby laying the whole town in ashes, rendering 10,000 people homeless, and doing no injury whatever to the Prussian garrison or magazines.

The heat, however, from the ruins was so terrible that the five battalions in garrison there were unable to support it and, evacuating the town, joined the prince's army; which immediately retired to Bautzen on the other side of the mountains, leaving the defiles to Saxony and Silesia both unguarded.

As messenger after messenger arrived at Leitmeritz, with reports of the movements of the troops, the astonishment and indignation of Frederick rose higher and higher. The whole fruits of the campaign were lost, by this astounding succession of blunders; and on hearing that Zittau had been destroyed, and that the army had arrived at Bautzen in the condition of a beaten and disheartened force, he at once started, with the bulk of the army, by the Elbe passes for that town; leaving Maurice of Dessau, with 10,000 men, to secure the passes; and Keith to follow more slowly with the baggage train and magazines.

On his arrival at Bautzen Frederick refused to speak to his brother, but sent him a message saying that he deserved to be brought before a court martial, which would sentence him and all his generals to death; but that he should not carry the matter so far, being unable to forget that the chief offender was his brother. The prince resigned his command, and the king, in answer to his letter to that effect, said that, in the situation created by him, nothing was left but to try the last extremity.