The Strong Arm | Page 6

a thick
braid that almost reached to the floor. She was dressed in the humble
garb of a serving maiden, the square bit of lace on her crown of fair
hair and the apron she wore, as spotless as new fallen snow. In her hand
she held a tray which supported a loaf of bread and a huge flagon

brimming with wine. On seeing the Count, her quick breathing stopped
for the moment and she dropped a low courtesy.
"My Lord," she said, but there came a catch in her throat, and she could
speak no further.
Seeing that he had to deal with no spirit, but with an inhabitant of the
world he knew and did not fear, there arose a strange exultation in the
heart of the Count as he looked upon this fair representative of his own
country. For ten years he had seen no woman, and now a sudden sense
of what he had lost overwhelmed him, his own breath coming quicker
as the realisation of this impressed itself upon him. He strode rapidly
toward her, and she seemed to shrink into the wall at his approach, wild
fear springing into her eyes, but he merely took the laden tray from her
trembling hands and placed it upon a bench. Then raising the flagon to
his lips, he drank a full half of its contents before withdrawing it. A
deep sigh of satisfaction followed, and he said, somewhat
shamefacedly:
"Forgive my hurried greed, maiden, but the thirst of the desert seems to
be in my throat, and the good wine reminds me that I am a German."
"It was brought for your use," replied the girl, demurely, "and I am
gratified that it meets your commendation, my Lord."
"And so also do you, my girl. What is your name and who are you?"
"I am called Beatrix, my Lord, a serving-maid of this castle, the
daughter of the woodman Wilhelm, and, alas! that it should be so, for
the present your jailer."
"If I quarrelled as little with my detention, as I see I am like to do with
my keeper, I fear captivity would hold me long in thrall. Are the men in
the castle such cravens then that they bestow so unwelcome a task upon
a woman?"
"The men are no cravens, my Lord, but this castle is at war with yours,
and for each man there is a post. A woman would be less missed if so

brave a warrior as Count von Schonburg thought fit to war upon us."
"But a woman makes war upon me, Beatrix. What am I to do?
Surrender humbly?"
"Brave men have done so before now and will again, my Lord, where
women are concerned. At least," added Beatrix, blushing and casting
down her eyes, "I have been so informed."
"And small blame to them," cried the count, with enthusiasm. "I swear
to you, my girl, that if women warriors were like the woodman's
daughter, I would cast away all arms except these with which to
enclasp her."
And he stretched out his hands, taking a step nearer, while she shrank
in alarm from him.
"My Lord, I am but an humble messenger, and I beg of you to listen to
what I am asked to say. My Lady, the Countess, has commissioned me
to tell you that--"
A startling malediction of the Countess that accorded ill with the scarlet
cross emblazoned on the young man's breast, interrupted the girl.
"I hold no traffic with the Countess," he cried. "She has treacherously
laid me by the heels, coming as I did from battling for the Cross that
she doubtless professes to regard as sacred."
"It was because she feared you, my Lord. These years back tales of
your valour in the Holy Land have come to the Rhine, and now you
return to find your house at war with hers. What was she to do? The
chances stood even with only your underling in command; judge then
what her fate must be with your strong sword thrown in the balance
against her. All's fair in war, said those who counselled her. What
would you have done in such an extremity, my Lord?"
"What would I have done? I would have met my enemy sword in hand
and talked with him or fought with him as best suited his inclination."

"But a lady cannot meet you, sword in hand, my Lord."
The Count paused in the walk he had begun when the injustice of his
usage impressed itself once more upon him. He looked admiringly at
the girl.
"That is most true, Beatrix. I had forgotten. Still, I should not have been
met with cozenry. Here came I from starvation in the wilderness, thirst
in the desert, and from the stress