three. Which two? Would the others, their comrades, face it out and cut down the hated Catholics? There was a certain disadvantage in knowing their fellows. They were not sure of them. They were quite sure about the musketeers and Tilly's captain. Nigel Charteris had led a round dozen of storming parties.

"Come you!" said he with the short stern note of command.

The man indicated came sullenly forward, laid his weapon in a corner and stood upright against the wall. One by one the rest did the same as he did.

One of them was a young pastor whose thick, coarse, straw-coloured hair, heavy brow and lower jaw, companioned by two cold blue eyes, proclaimed physical energy and dour obstinacy to be his, whatever theology he carried in his wallet.

"My Bible is my weapon," he said, looking his captor in the face. "Woe unto you who wound maidens and spoil the houses of the true faith! Woe to the Edict of Restitution, edict of robbery and murder in the name of which you come! Woe to the Emperor, rightly named of Rome, for from Rome he has his orders, and from Rome his monstrous superstitions!"

His intention was to kneel beside Elspeth, but Nigel pointed to the wall.

It was a medley of weapons; an old halbert or two, some ancient bows, swords of divers patterns, daggers not a few, pikes and hunting knives, two heavy smith's hammers, and half a dozen pistols and firelocks of ponderous make and uncertain utility. These made up the tale of them.

It was a medley of men who surrendered them. Some of their belts and other accoutrements proclaimed them the organised defenders of the city, other than the Swedish soldiery that Gustavus had thrown into the place together with his devoted officer Falkenburg. The rest were merchants, artificers, apprentices, of whom some had doubtless assisted in the defence of the city, and others probably had continued to ply their callings with what peace they could.

Why they had mustered in this house round their old pastor, and with what hope remained, Nigel could only guess. In fact he cared nothing to know. It was but a nest of hornets to destroy.

Sergeant Blick whistled from the window. Two more men appeared to guard the door. Then he went off to gather the rest of his half company.

CHAPTER II.

NIGEL COLLECTS HIS DUES.

Nigel's quick eye roved over the throng.

"Now, Master Scrivener!" he said, picking out a lean-faced worthy who shrank behind a burly citizen. "Sit you at this table and write down the names and conditions of the prisoners!"

The scrivener drew forth pen and inkhorn.

"Now, madame! Yours!"

"Ottilie of Thüringen!" She had risen to make the reply, and again their eyes met in silent combat.

"It would be as well, your Highness, if you carried your friend to another room! What is her name and condition?"

"Elspeth Reinheit, daughter of Andreas Reinheit, farmer, of Eisenach in Thüringen!"

Then she motioned to the young pastor, who came forward with an air of defiance which sat ill upon him, and together they lifted the girl. At the mention of her name she had opened her still tear-laden eyes and let them seek those of Nigel, who appeared not to see; but the young pastor, as he and the dark lady lifted their charge, knitted his brows as if a spasm of jealousy had waylaid him, who had some right to the feeling where the sick girl was concerned. They passed out by the door of the room which had harboured the Magdeburgers.

"Now, sirs, step hither to the scrivener one by one; let him write your name and calling. And whatever of money or money's worth you carry on your persons place it here on the table."

There was a low murmuring, but no open dispute of his will.

A grim smile relaxed the features of the musketeers.

A grave portly merchant came forward and announced himself as "Ulrich Pfeifer, silk mercer," and deposited a gold chain and a purse of money. The eyes of the soldiers glistened as they heard the clink of the good metal. If they had thought their captain was, though a hearty fighter, a somewhat indifferent gatherer of the spoils, they were ready to retract their opinion. As for Nigel's face, it showed no eagerness or greed.

The merchant of silk was followed by a tanner, a hosier, an armourer, a shoemaker, and a maker of gloves. There were a few gold chains in the company, and the money was in purses of divers kinds and conditions, and of all the currencies of Europe. After the merchants came the craftsmen and artisans, who made but meagre contributions: and not a few lips trembled as the hard-earned and hardly-kept florins rattled on the table. Then came the apprentices, shamefaced, turning out their pockets in proof that they had none but a few copper coins, which Nigel Charteris bade them pick up again.

The scrivener's task being completed, together with the heaping of the spoil, Nigel called for Sergeant Blick and bade him conduct the prisoners to the camp and set a guard over them, till he should come to take Count Tilly's instructions for their disposal. At which order they one and all looked more crestfallen than before, for it portended they knew not what. Two months' leaguer with all its hardships, its alarms, its hunger; a week's storming with its perils from without, two days of horrors within, had left them all with a lively sense of the power of the Emperor to enforce his edicts. And in their ears the name of Count Tilly was a synonym for an incarnation of the powers and practices of the Evil One.

But there was no appeal from the Catholic captain. The young pastor, who had returned, and the scrivener headed the procession. The soldiers below received them. Sergeant Blick gave the orders, and the noise of their retreating feet came through the open window to the ears of Nigel.

"Now," said he to the two men-at-arms, who had been with him from the beginning of the episode, "you can search the house for yourselves. Touch nothing of that which belongs to the ladies who were here; nor load yourselves with that which is heavy to carry and of no certain worth. Say to the Lady Ottilie of Thüringen that I crave her presence here in a quarter of an hour. The other two of you remain on guard without."

The order obeyed, he poured out his booty into a heap, picked out the gold pieces and the chain, that had been so cherished an adornment of the silk weaver, and put them in a purse of leather, which he fastened securely and disposed with equal care about him; then the silver pieces, which were far more numerous and bulky, he divided into four parts, two for Sergeant Blick, and one each for the musketeers, in case their ransacking of the house under the conditions laid down should provide them with but a meagre reward. These three weighty and bulky parcels, tied in separate purses, he fastened beneath his cloak to his sword-belt, and he had scarcely done so before the haughty Ottilie made her entry. Her bearing was serene and high.

He rose from the chair and bade her be seated. She accepted the offer without thanks but without any show of disdain. She seemed to have allowed herself to enter upon a softer mood.

"I have asked for an audience, your Highness——"

"Why Highness?" she asked. "In German lands that is for princesses."

"It accords with your bearing! The grades of rank in these countries are bewildering. What would you be called?"

"In Thüringen I am styled plainly, madame!"

"Madame, be it then! Are you the daughter of the Landgrave of Thüringen?"

"In what way does that concern one of Tilly's captains of musketeers? I go where I choose, and own no man for