Wives cried from escalier windows to their men to come in by and lie decently down, to be ready for their work in the morning.  And the men so addressed paid not the least heed, as the manner of men is.  These things and many others I saw, scarce knowing what I saw.

And so, with the hum of gathering crowds, the hours passed slowly over.  But the temper of the people in the square grew more and more difficult, and soon the guard had to be brought down from the castle.  The great gates beneath me were open, and the Wolfsberg vomited the black men-at-arms to keep the Duke’s peace.

But this brought only the quicker strife.  Yells received them as soon as their steel partisans showed up in the square.

“Oppressors of the people, ye come to your reward!” cried many voices.

“We will give you your last breakfast—­of cold, tempered steel!” cried another, from the bowels of the crowd.

“To the Wolfsberg—­ho!  Break in the doors!  We will have our Saint Helena forth of their cursed prisons!”

It was no sooner said than done.  Like a wave the people rushed in a black irregular mass at the front rank of the guard.  The soldiers of the Duke were swept away like chaff; I could see one here and another there struggling in the vortices of the angry multitude.

“On to the Wolfsberg!” cried the crowd.

But when the first of them reached the castle gates, lo! they stood open, and there behind them stood file on file of matchlock men with their matches burning in their hands and their pieces trained upon their rests.

“Give them the fire!” cried a voice, that of Duke Otho, as the crowd halted a moment irresolute.

The bright red flame started out here and there from muzzle and touchhole, and then ran along the line in an irregular volley.

A terrible cry of fear went up from the folk.  For though they had heard of the new ordnance, and even seen one or two, they had never realized the effect of a fusillade.  And when a man on either side sank down with a hollow sound like a beast in shamble-thills, and the man in front fell over on his face without a sound, the multitude turned, broke into groups, fled, and disappeared in a moment like a whirl of snow which the wind canters down the street in a veering flurry.

Then the gates shut to, and the deep lines of matchlock men were hidden from view.  After this the city thrilled and murmured worse than ever, humming like an angry hive.  But the Wolfsberg kept its counsel.  Not yet had deliverance arrived for the captives within its cells.

And the dread morning was coming fast.

At last, wearied out with crowding emotions, I went and cast me down on my bed, and, instantly falling asleep, I slept like a log till one touched me on the shoulder.  Looking up, I saw the Duke Otho.  He had come to make sure of his vengeance—­the vengeance which I knew well was not his, but that of Ysolinde, Princess of Plassenburg.