Count Ulrich of Lindburg | Page 9

if I get away."
Before the horsemen came up he had darted into the wood, where, had
they thought it worth while searching, they would have had no little
difficulty in finding him.
"There is no use fighting, I fear, my young master," said Hans,
unwillingly sheathing his sword.
"We are outnumbered, and it will only be giving our foes an excuse for
slaying us should we attempt to resist them."
Eric, seeing the wisdom of the old soldier's advice, likewise returned
his sword into the scabbard. When the Baron's retainers came and
surrounded them, he demanded, in a firm voice, what they required.

"We are to conduct you to our lord. He will question you as he thinks
fit," answered one of the men, seizing Eric's bridle. Another took hold
of Hans' bridle, and, with a couple of men on either side of them, they
were conducted along the road.
They had not gone far, when they were met by the Baron.
"Ah, my young sir, you are I understand Eric von Lindburg; I have at
length got a hostage for your father's good behaviour," he exclaimed,
exultingly. "You will find pleasant lodging in the Castle of
Schweinsburg, for the next few years or more of your life, if your father
does not yield to my demands. I have long been looking for this
opportunity, now it has arrived. Ha, ha, ha!"
Eric kept a dignified silence, merely saying, "I am in your power,
Baron Schweinsburg. I cannot choose, but do what you command."
This calm reply somewhat annoyed the Baron.
"Ah, we shall find you a tongue ere long, young sir," he observed, with
a savage expression, as they rode along.
The party went on at a rapid rate till it was nearly dark, when they
stopped at an hostelry to refresh themselves, a strong guard being
placed in the room into which the prisoners were conducted. The moon
then rising, they continued their journey, and at length, perched on a
rocky height, the grey walls of the old Castle of Schweinsburg rose
before them. A steep pathway led them up to a bridge thrown across a
deep chasm, which almost completely surrounded the building, and had
rendered it impregnable to the assaults of foes armed only with the
engines of ancient warfare. In the court-yard the Baron ordered them to
dismount; and four armed men conducted them up a winding staircase
to a room at the top of a high tower, from which, unless provided with
wings, there seemed but little chance of escaping.
In a short time their luggage was brought up to them, followed by a
tolerably substantial supper.

"The Baron does not intend to starve us, at all events," observed old
Hans. "Come, my dear young master, eat and keep up your spirits.
Matters might have been much worse. Perhaps we may ere long find
some means of escaping, let the Baron guard us ever so carefully. At all
events, let us hope for the best."
CHAPTER THREE.
At the time our story commenced Dr Martin Luther was still residing in
the Castle of Wartburg, where he had been concealed by order of the
Elector Frederick, for nearly a year after leaving Worms, to preserve
him from the rage of his defeated enemies. His friends, however, well
knew where he was, and he had lately been summoned back to
Wittemburg, where his presence was much required.
Several months had passed away since Eric had quitted home, when
one day a man, with a large pack on his back, presented himself at the
Castle-gate, and demanded to see the Knight. He was admitted.
"Well, friend, what would you with me?" asked the Knight.
"I have books to sell, and will show them to you forthwith," answered
the colporteur, unslinging his pack. "Here is one lately printed--worth
its weight in gold, and more."
The Knight took it. It bore the simple title--"The New Testament.
German. Wittemburg."
"That is the very book I want," exclaimed the Knight, eagerly. "Yes, I
doubt not that it is worth its weight in gold. By whom has it been done
into German?"
"By Dr Martin Luther," answered the colporteur. "He began the work
when shut up in the Wartburg, and has only lately finished it with the
help of Dr Melancthon. Here are some other works by him. Will you
take them?"
"Yes, three--four--one copy of each. There is payment," said the Knight,

laying down some gold pieces.
"I take but the proper price," answered the colporteur, returning most of
them to him.
"You are an honest man," said the Knight. "If the books you sell have
made you so, they must be good."
"The books certainly are good, and I am more honest than I was. Once I
ate the bread of idleness,