CHAPTER VII.

NEW ADVENTURES.

From Ingolstadt the king turned to Landshut, in the centre of Bavaria. The farther he advanced into this country, where they had never seen an army of heretics before, the people became more fanatical, wild, and bloodthirsty. Large bands of peasants assembled, commanded by the monks, lying in ambush everywhere for the Swedes, and cutting off every straggler; they also tortured their prisoners in the most horrible manner. The king's army on their side, inebriated by their successes, were infuriated by this cruel guerilla warfare, and began to burn and destroy all the places they passed through. Hitherto the Swedish army had been remarkable for its good conduct in the field, but now they left in their rear a broad track of murder and crime; and woe to those troops who in insufficient numbers wandered far from the main body.

The king had now marched far into the country, and wished to send some new important orders to Baner, who followed slowly in his steps from Ingolstadt. On account of the lawless state of the country this was attended with great risk, and the king would not order a large body to go. A young officer, a Finn, volunteered to try, accompanied by two horsemen. The king agreed to this, and the three horsemen set out one evening in May on this dangerous journey.

The young officer was no other than our friend Bertel, and his companions were Pekka from East Bothnia, and Vitikka from Tavastland. The night was dark and gloomy, and the three horsemen rode carefully in the middle of the road, much afraid of missing their way in this strange country, and dreading an ambush from their enemies. It began to rain, which made the roads still worse; these had already been much damaged by the passage of the heavy baggage-wagons, and at every step they risked an accident.

"Here," said Vitikka ironically to his companion, "you are a northern Finn, and ought to be able to practise witchcraft."

"I should not be worth much if I could not do it," responded Pekka in the same bantering tone.

"Try, then, and take us in a minute to Hattelmala mountain and let us see the light shining from Hämeenlinna's castle. There is a little gipsy girl whom I once loved, and I would rather be by her side to-night, than here in the ruts of this damned forest."

"That will be easy for me to do," said Pekka; "see, you can already see the lights shining from Hämeenlinna."

His comrade looked sharply around, uncertain if Pekka was joking or in earnest; he thought the latter quite as likely as the former. And truly, in the brushwood underneath, a light appeared, but he soon understood that he was still hundreds of miles away from his home. Suddenly their horses stopped, and would not move. A barrier of tree trunks was stretched across the road.

"Hush!" whispered Bertel, "I hear a noise in the wood."

The horsemen leaned forward and listened attentively. On the opposite side of the wood they heard footsteps and the breaking of branches.

"They must be here in a quarter of an hour," said a voice in the well-known Bavarian dialect.

"How many of them are there?"

"Thirty horsemen, and ten or twelve baggage animals. They left Geisenfeld at dusk, and they have a young girl with them as a prisoner."

"How many are we?"

"About fifty musketeers, and seventy or eighty armed with pitchforks and axes."

"Good. No firing is allowed until they are within three paces."

At this moment Bertel's horse neighed, whose name was Lapp; he was small but strong and active.

"Who is there?" sounded from the road.

"Swedes!" cried Bertel boldly, just as he did at the Würzburg sally-port, and fired off a pistol in the direction of the voice, and saw by the flash a large band of peasants, who had encamped by the barricade. He then turned his horse, and, calling upon his companions to follow him, rode at full gallop on the road back to Landshut.

But the peasants had by the flash also seen the three horsemen, and now hurried to cut off their retreat. Bertel's horse easily distanced the pursuers, but Vitikka's fell over the stump of a tree, and Pekka's clumsy animal was hurt by the thrust of a pitchfork in his neck as he tried to get out of the marsh. Bertel saw his followers' danger, and would not leave them; he turned back and killed the nearest peasants, and caught Pekka's horse by the bridle and tried to pull him up, calling also to Vitikka to leave his horse and jump on the back of Lapp. This brave effort was successful, and the three were on their way to safety, when suddenly a whizzing noise was heard, and a lasso settled upon Bertel's shoulders, tightened, and jerked him from his saddle. Vitikka fell at the same moment, and Lapp, thus delivered from his heavy burden, galloped off, and Pekka followed with or without his will. Bertel and Vitikka were taken prisoners and bound with their hands behind their backs.

"Hang the dogs before the others arrive!" cried one.

"Hang them by the heels!" suggested another.

"With a little fire underneath!" said a third.

"No fire! no noise!" ordered a fourth, who appeared to be in command. "Listen, comrades," whispered he Ito the prisoners lying on the ground, "was it Finnish you spoke?"

"Go to the devil!" said Vitikka in a rage.

"_Maledicti, maledicti Fennones!_" said the former speaker in the darkness. "You are mine!"

"Now they are coming!" cried one of the band, and the trampling of horses was heard on the road to Ingolstadt. The peasants remained still, and for greater safety gagged the prisoners. The approaching troop were provided with torches, and seemed to be Germans, who were returning from a marauding expedition. They were riding so quickly that they did not notice the barricade until they were close upon it; at the same moment a murderous fire opened upon them from behind this obstruction. Ten or twelve of the foremost fell to the ground, and their riderless horses reared and dragged them along by the stirrups; the greatest confusion prevailed amongst them, some turned back, riding over their comrades and the pack-horses; others fired off their pistols towards the enemy behind the barricade. The peasants rushed from their ambush and furiously attacked those that remained, and pulled them off their horses with lassos. In vain the horsemen endeavoured to defend themselves; in less than ten minutes the whole troop was scattered; eight or ten had escaped, fifteen were lying wounded on the road, and six or seven were made prisoners. Only four of the peasants had fallen. The revenge of the Bavarians was inhuman. They fired blank charges in the prisoners' faces, which burnt them black, and partially buried some of them in the ground and stoned them slowly to death.

When this terrible work was finished, they carried away the booty to a place of safety. Bertel and his companion were thrown across one of the horses, and they marched deep into the forest. After some time they stopped at a lonely farm, and the prisoners were dragged in and thrown on the floor in a separate room, while the peasants in the next room rejoiced over their victory, and drank captured wine. A deathly pale monk now entered the room, carrying a sword by his side with a rope. He held up a torch to the prisoners' faces, took away their gags, and looked at them in silence.

"Am I right," said he at last, sarcastically; "this is Lieutenant Bertel, of the king's life-guards."

Bertel looked up and recognised the Jesuit Hieronymus.

"You are welcome to me, lieutenant, and thank you for our last meeting. Such an important guest must be well entertained. I fancy I have seen this comrade before, also," he said, pointing to Vitikka.

The wild Finn looked him straight in the eyes and opened his mouth with an obstinate grin.

"What have you done with your ears, monk?" he said tauntingly. "Take away your skull-cap, foul thief, and let us see if you have grown any ass's ears in their place."

At this daring remark about the incident at Breitenfeld a dark frown contracted the Jesuit's eyebrows, and a blush arose on his pale features; he bit his lips with rage.

"Think of your own ears, comrade," said he. "_Anathema maranatha_! They will soon have heard enough in this world."

With these words the Jesuit clapped his hands twice, and a blacksmith with his leather apron entered, carrying a pair of red-hot pincers.

"Well, comrade, do your ears begin to burn?" said the monk cruelly.

Vitikka replied stubbornly, "Now you think you are clever, but you are only a fumbler in comparison with the devil. Your lord and master does not need any pincers, he uses his claws."

"The right ear," said the Jesuit. The smith approached the Finn and put the pincers to his head. Vitikka smiled disdainfully. A sudden blush coloured his brown cheeks, but only for a moment. He had now only one ear.

"Will you now abjure your faith, and believe in the Holy Father and damn Luther, and you shall keep your other ear?"

"Niggard!" cried the Finn. "Your lord and master generally offers countries and kingdoms, and you only offer me a wretched ear!"

"The left ear," continued the Jesuit coldly. The smith carried out the order. The mutilated soldier smiled.

"Monk, it is shameful!" said Bertel, who was lying close by. "Kill us, if you like, but do it quickly!"

"Who has said that I intend to kill you?" replied the Jesuit, smirking. "Never; it entirely depends upon yourself whether you regain your freedom this very night."

"What do you ask of me?"

"You are a brave young man, Lieutenant Bertel! I am sorry that the king so shamefully and unjustly deprived you of your rank, which you had gained with your blood."

"Are you really sorry? And what then?"

"If I was in your place I should take revenge."

"Take revenge? Oh yes, I have thought of it."

"You belong to Gustaf Adolf's life-guards. Do you know, young friend, what the Catholic princes would give to anyone who brought the king, dead or alive, into their power?"

"How could I know that, holy father?"

"A kingdom if he was a nobleman; 50,000 ducats if he was a man of the people."

"Holy father, it is a small reward for such a great service."

"You have your choice between death and a royal reward!"

"This is the point you were trying to reach, holy father?"

"Do as you please; think it over, and we will talk about it again. This time you can buy your life and freedom for a less price; yes, a very small service."

"What would that be, holy father?"

"Listen to me. I wish you to swear that you will do me a very small favour. King Gustaf Adolf wears on the forefinger of his right hand a small copper ring. It is of no value to him, but it is of great importance to me, young friend; as I am an antiquary, I should like to have a remembrance of a king, whom I must hate as an enemy, but admire as a man."

"And the ring?"

"The ring; you must swear to deliver it into my hands before the next new moon. Do this, and you are free!"

"Oh, only a small sin against the seventh commandment? And you have the absolution ready before-hand; is it not so? Go, miserable thief, and thank your stars that my arm is bound; or by Heaven, it would teach you to have respect for a Christian's honour!"

"Be still, young man, remember that your life is in my hands. When I have finished with your comrade I shall begin with you."

Bertel looked at him with contempt.

"Smith, go on with your work!" said the Jesuit.

And the smith again took the pincers from the fire.

At the same instant a great confusion and noise arose in the next room. They shouted:

"To arms! The Swedes are upon us!"

The door flew open. Some of the peasants seized their guns, others were lying in a drunken sleep on the floor. Outside one could plainly hear the Swedish officer's commands.

"Set the house on fire, boys, we have them all in a trap!"

At these words the Jesuit jumped out of the window.

A hot but short skirmish began by the door. The peasants were overpowered in a few moments and begged for mercy. In reply to this appeal, the foremost were killed, and the rest taken prisoners and bound; the house and booty were taken, and Bertel and his mutilated comrade were released.

"Is it you, Larsson?" cried Bertel.

"Thunder and lightning, is it you, Bertel? Is it here you intend to leave the king's orders?"

"And yourself?"

"Yes, damn it, you know that I am always a lucky child! I was sent to guard a convoy, and met on the road some rascally marauders, who told me that there was an ambush in the forest. I hurried after them, and delivered a brave boy and a beautiful girl. Look at her: cheeks like a poppy, and eyes to buy fish with!"

Bertel turned round, and by his side stood a trembling girl, paralyzed with fear.

"This is Ketchen, Lady Regina's maid!" cried Bertel, who had often seen the bright girl in the company of her dull mistress.

"Save me, lieutenant, save me!" cried the girl, and caught hold of his arm. "They have taken me by force from my aunt's house."

"Larsson, I beg you to give me the girl!"

"What the devil are you thinking of? Do you want to take the girl from me?"

"Let her go free, I beg of you!"

"Later on, perhaps, yes. Let her go, I say, or..."

The hot-tempered Finn drew his sword again, with which he had just before killed a peasant.

"The cottage is on fire!" was heard from all directions, and a thick smoke proved that it was true. Bertel rushed out with the girl, and Larsson followed, and the heat of his temper gave way before the heat of the fire. When Bertel got outside and saw the flames, he remembered that the cottage was filled with people; about thirty peasants were bound inside.

"Come, hurry, let us save the unfortunate prisoners!" he cried.

"Are you mad?" said Larsson, laughing; "it is only a few of the rascals who have killed so many of our brave comrades. Let it burn, boys!"

It was now too late to help. The unfortunate Bavarians were sacrificed to the barbarities with which wars were then carried on; too often one terrible deed was followed by another.

We turn with disgust from these wild scenes, which essentially belong to the times in which they occurred, and hasten to the grand picture of the Swedish lion's last struggle.