Alwyn now hastened back to the battlements, and drew up the Count of Torrenburg in the same manner, by which he had ascended himself; and anxious as Eginhart was to fly to Amalberga’s assistance, still did he not quit his station, till two more of the confederates were safely landed on the platform of the Castle. These in their turn rendered the same service to their companions, and a sufficient number were soon mustered within the wails to authorize their proceeding to more hazardous attempts. Half of them seized the sleeping sentinels, while the rest without noise made the best of their way to the great gate. They opened it, and the approach through the rock was soon made practicable for the remainder of their friends, whom time had not permitted to ascend in the bucket. No slight expectations had been entertained by the Helvetians, that this midnight attack would have made them masters of Rassburg, without its costing them a single drop of blood; but they had miscounted the strength of the garrison. Sufficient opposition was made to compel the besiegers to purchase their conquest dearly. Many a brave Helvetian bit the dust, and shared the grave of the enemy, who had just expired at his feet. The dawn of morning discovered the walls of the Castle of the Rock dyed with the blood both of friends and foes. By the time that the sun was fully risen, the work was completed; Helvetia’s sons had achieved their object, and the sheaths once more received their bloody swords. The chiefs now employed themselves in giving orders and making dispositions to preserve their conquest, while Torrenburg flew to deliver his Amalberga. He found her in a stately chamber; she was on her knees praying for _him_. The noise of the combat had roused her from sleep; yet convinced that her situation could not alter for the worse, she experienced no alarm for herself, till as the clash of arms occasionally drew nearer to her chamber door, she heard the name of Torrenburg shouted, and concluded, that he was among the combatants: then _indeed_ she trembled, and sought refuge from her terrors in supplication to her Patron-Saint. The heart of the pious girl was full of confidence in the Divine justice: she doubted not, that the Ruler of all things had decreed every thing for the best; she knew, that neither herself nor Torrenburg had _merited_ to suffer, and she trusted, that Heaven would act towards her with gentleness. In her supplications therefore she rather spoke of the goodness of Providence, than implored its help: or if she prayed for any thing, it was that a speedy stop might be put to the shedding of blood, of whose flowing she was but too well convinced by the clashing of arms, and the dying groans of some, who were slaughtered at no great distance from her chamber.