CHAPTER XVII.

A HORRIBLE ADVENTURE.

We were provided with several fireballs and pots of wild-fire, a combustible composition so called from its ready ignition, for the amiable purpose of burning Kiel, and were guided by the purser of Sir Nickelas Valdemar, who, in more peaceful times, had been a distiller of corn brandy, and was wont to attend the great annual fair in that town--the _Kieler umschlag_. We pulled softly over the darkened water. Ian sat in the stern of the leading boat, and between me and the dull sky I saw the eagle's wing that surmounted the cone of his steel bonnet, as he sat erect and towering above all his soldiers. His drawn sword, with its long Gaëlic motto--that old hereditary heirloom of his race, which was never a moment from his side--was in his hand. I have heard Ian assert that this ancient blade possessed the property of inspiring courage, like the _Feadhan Dhu_ of the Clanchattan. "The sword of a brave man always stirs the heart to gallant deeds," he would say; "and this sword has been wielded by many generations of heroes."

Behind him, the Lochaber axe of Phadrig Mhor was glinting in the starlight; for wherever Ian was, there Phadrig was sure to be.

Though weakened, and by my recent bruises somewhat nervous and excitable, I thought I was rather rash in venturing on this desperate service; and now, when in the open boat, came the reflection of what would be Ernestine's desolation and grief, if I was knocked on the head as the reward of my restless ambition.

As we pulled shoreward the night became intensely dark, so much so that we feared, unless lights were burned, we should never be able to regain our ships.

All seemed quiet as we approached the town, and, save an occasional light glimmering in the vast masses of the old castle, there was no sign of life in the place; but we knew that Count Kœningheim had not less than 2000 men in garrison, and of their determination we had recently received the most ample proof.

Ian had observed that on the right flank of the town, along the gulf or haven, there lay a beautiful walk, bordered by several rows of lofty trees, which were now in full foliage, and would conceal our approach.

Where the boats grounded the beach was silent and still. The whole place seemed deserted. Not a leaf was stirring now, for even the western wind had died away, and we heard only the waves of the Kielerfiörd chafing on the bulwarks of the path, as we landed. Ian Dhu was the first who sprang ashore, and, with their muskets loaded, our men formed in file, and marched towards the town, the walls of which were about two hundred yards distant. Our service was a strange and desperate one; for the enemy had cavalry, whose patrols might have cut us off, and, if an alarm had been given, our boats must have run the gauntlet along the lower gun batteries before we could regain the fleet.

"However," said Ian, to whom I mentioned these probabilities; "our firepots will find them work enough, and enable us to get clear off."

Marching in silence, and halting once or twice to listen while shrouded by the bordering trees, we found ourselves near the strong postern gate, over which grinned a couple of forty-eight pounders; but our guide, the purser, who had been in the habit of conveying his barrels to the fair without the ceremony of showing them to the keepers or leviers of duty at the barriers, led us towards a small house that he knew of. This place proved to be deserted. He raised the flooring, and revealed to us a secret passage which led under the walls, and directly into the town.

I shall never forget the exciting emotions we experienced, when, after crawling through a hole, dark and dusty like an ancient drain, we issued from a small shed, under which it opened, into a gloomy and deserted street, where, with Phadrig Mhor, his chief, and six chosen Highlanders, I found myself within the walls and gates, the guards and cannon, of Kiel. The rest of our men, to the number of ninety-four, occupied the cottage without, ready to succour us or secure our retreat.

The storks uttered unearthly sounds, and flapped their wings over our heads. They appeared to be the only inhabitants in that part of the town; and from the postern already mentioned, a street opened westward in one unbroken line straight to the market place.

"What large building is that, Herr?" asked Ian, pointing with his sword to an edifice near us; "is it a church?"

"No," replied the purser, "it is the hall where the high Court of Appeal for the duchy sits; the enemy have turned it into a magazine for powder."

"Powder! then the high Court of Appeal shall sit there no more, Mein Herr; for we will blow it up."

"It is guarded--see, yonder is the sentinel, walking to and fro before the building," said the purser; but the soldier indicated could not discern us, as our men stood with their backs close to the houses, and under their shadow. "But as to blowing it up, Herr Schottlander, I beseech of you not to think of that," continued the purser, "for it will create an alarm, and totally prevent our escape. Let us content ourselves by placing these firepots with lighted matches in some of the empty houses, and then retiring the way we came."

"Dioul! but I think you are right, master purser," said Ian; "besides, Herr, when the town is on fire the magazine must blow up as a matter of course. Softly, then, comrades--this way," he added, to the six Highlanders, who had slung their muskets to enable them the better to bear the combustibles with which they were loaded.

At that moment we heard the Imperialist who guarded the front door of the Court of Appeal, challenge some one who approached his post.

A voice replied, and an officer muffled in a long mantle, wearing a broad hat and slouching feather, followed by three pikemen, passed down the centre of the street, to visit the guard at that postern gate which the purser's friendly cottage, with its smuggling trapdoor, had enabled us to avoid.

They passed us within half a pistol-shot, and then we could hear the rattle of arms as the sentinel at the gate turned out the guard, and the officer with his escort departed to visit some other post.

"Now, there is not a moment to be lost," said Ian; "let us fire these houses next the magazine, and then escape by yonder fox-hole."

It was done in less than five minutes.

We entered the empty houses, either by forcing the doors or removing the windows, but as softly as possible. Ian selected one, Phadrig a second, and I a third. We placed the firepots and wild-fire in the centre of the floors; heaped them over with straw and oiled chips of wood brought from the fleet; then we ignited the matches, and hurried back to the street.

The matches were supposed to burn gradually for five minutes, by which time we expected to be clear of Kiel, and on the high-road to our boats. Accompanied by Gillian M'Bane and Donald M'Vurich, I had just completed my preparations for giving at least one house a comfortable heating, and, firing the match, hastened out to the street, when we were met, face to face, by--whom? The Imperial officer and his three pikemen, returning leisurely from their rounds, and singing a carol to the tramp of their own feet.

Having accomplished our work sooner than Ian or his henchman, we were unfortunately the first in the street, and the Imperialists were confounded to find themselves confronted by three armed men in the Scottish garb. Our swords were ready, my two musketeers blew their matches, and the Austrian pikemen levelled their weapons to the charge.

"Fire and fagot! how came you here?" asked the officer, whose voice made me start; "yield, sirs, for I would not have you killed if I can save you."

"Count Kœningheim!" said I, recognising him; "back--back--give way; for we will die weapon in hand, but never yield. For the sake of Ernestine," I added, in a loud and earnest whisper, "let this be a drawn conflict--for if I am slain she will be without a protector."

"Villain!" he exclaimed, with fierce joy, "art thou the Captain Rollo?"

"The same, at your service, count," said I, as our blades were pressed hard against each other; "but why so bitter an epithet to a brother Scot, for such I should be, though under a different banner?"

"You have stolen the daughter of my friend from the court of the Danish queen, and for these many weeks past have conveyed her from ship to ship, and isle to isle--all to the severe prejudice of her honour."

"It is a villain's thought and a falsehood, which none but a villain could conceive," said I, furiously; "but she is your affianced wife, and----"

The count uttered a bitter laugh, then, trembling with passion, he rushed upon me like a cannon-ball, and gave me a succession of fierce thrusts, all of which I succeeded in parrying.

"My affianced wife--my affianced wife, indeed!" he continued, giving me another and another. "Oh, fool of fools! do you not know that, with all her beauty, I would not wed her if she had the Bohemian crown upon her brow, and the wealth of India at her feet?"

While this was passing, the purser had dived into his secret hole, and vanished like a ghost at cock-crow. Ian, the sergeant, and our other four soldiers, came to the appointed place, and found me fencing away like a sword-player with Kœningheim, whom they only knew to be an Imperialist. The three pikemen fled, believing the town to be in possession of the enemy; and Ian, who, like a true Highlander, would not permit the single combat to be interrupted, stood between us and the six musketeers (who continued ominously to blow their matches), and, leaning on his long sword, watched with a fierce but anxious eye every turn of the desperate game.

The red sparks flew in showers from the steel blades; we were both so expert, that not a scar was given or received on either side; but I was still so weak, that step by step I was driven back towards the Hall of Appeals. I called repeatedly to Ian, to Phadrig, and the soldiers, to regain the boats and leave me to my fate; but they still remained, although the blaze of the burning houses began to flash across the thoroughfare, and we heard the drums beating in every quarter, as the various guards at different points of the city rushed to their colours, and the whole garrison became alarmed.

It was a time of desperation!

Ian by one thrust of his long sword, Phadrig by one blow of his tremendous axe, or our musketeers by a single shot, could have ended the conflict and the life of Kœningheim together; but this the chivalry of Highland warfare would by no means permit. Thus the duel continued, the conflagration increased, and the long angry roll of the drums rang the call to arms in castle and cantonments, at the gates and all along the harbour. Every moment I felt assured that Kœningheim was becoming stronger than me. My sight became dim, and I was beaten backward until I found myself driven against a door at the corner of a lane. I staggered--it yielded; and then I fell headlong--not into a passage--but down into a deep, dark hole--a cellar or some such place.

The street, the wavering light that filled it, vanished from me in an instant, as I descended into total darkness.

At that moment I heard a confused discharge of muskets, and an awful explosion, with a roar and the sensation of every thing being convulsed below and around me, as if the earth were splitting into halves, and I knew that it was the stately Hall of Appeals which had been blown up like a house of cards.

I cannot describe the crash--the mighty torrent of united sounds--the rending asunder of massive walls--the bursting of arches, knitted together centuries ago--the cracking of oaken beams, amid a whirlwind of bricks and mortar, slates and rubbish, as the house under which I had fallen crumbled into ruin in a moment; and though I did not feel any thing crushing me down, I had the horrible conviction of being entombed beneath a mass of fallen masonry and timber.

My claymore was still in my hand; the earth was damp, and I lay upon it breathless, gasping, and almost stunned for a time. Then a drowsy sensation came over me, and for half an hour or so I seemed to be in a kind of waking dream.