The Adventures of Harry Rochester: A Tale of the Days of Marlborough and EugeneStrang, Herbert
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The Adventures of Harry Rochester: A Tale of the Days of Marlborough and Eugene
Strang, Herbert
Blenheim, Battle of, Blindheim, Bavaria, Germany, 1704 -- Juvenile fiction
The man looked relieved, Harry thought; but he said nothing, merely
brushing a chair for his visitor. Harry sat down, removed his hat, and
leant back, stretching his legs for comfort after his ride.
"Yes, landlord, I left your house somewhat hurriedly, I fear, and at an
unseemly hour."
The man shot a quick glance at him; but, having now had time to collect
his wits, assumed an air of friendly concern, and began to speak with
great volubility.
"The noble Herr had indeed a miraculous escape. Your excellency will
remember—I told you of the marauders. They are dangerous knaves; they
stick at nothing; only the other day they sacked and burnt a farmhouse
in the hills, and killed all the inmates—man, wife, three children, and
a dozen servants. Glad indeed was I to find that your excellency had
eluded them. They must have spied upon your coming; yes, dangerous
villains, I say. We should have had troops to protect us, but his
highness Prince Louis—whom God defend!—cannot spare a man, it is said,
so hard is he pressed by the French; and we poor Swabians are at the
mercy of these robbers, the offscourings of all the armies. Ah, your
excellency, these are bad times for us poor folk, bad times indeed; not
that it becomes me to complain when our noble rulers think it necessary
to make war; but it is the poor who suffer. It is we who are taxed to
keep the soldiers afoot; the bread is taken out of our children’s
mouths; we are murdered and robbed, our houses are plundered and
burned——"
"Except in your case, mein Wirth," said Harry, interrupting the man’s
hurried, nervous, inconsequent speech. "You seem very comfortable here;
I see no signs of plunder or burning."
"No, your excellency, they—they—they were disturbed."
"Disturbed!"
"Did I say disturbed? I meant alarmed—alarmed, mein Herr. Your
excellency’s escape—for which Heaven be thanked!—caused them to hurry
off;—yes, to hurry off, for, of course, they feared the guard from
Urach; that is how it was: your excellency understands?"
"Perfectly. And which way did they go?"
"Which way, your excellency?" The man’s tone was expressive of the
greatest surprise: he was gaining confidence. "How should I know? They
galloped away; that was all I knew——"
"Ah! And where did they get the horses?"
"The horses! the horses! Ah yes! the horses." Mine host was now
floundering desperately. "Why, of course, they caught the horses and
then galloped away—you understand?"
"Excellently. And my horse—you have that in your stable still?"
"Your horse! Yes, of course; it must be there; I will go and saddle it
myself for your excellency."
"Not so fast. There is no hurry, my friend. They caught the horses and
galloped away. And where are they now?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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