The conversation now dropped between the two weary men, and for about half an hour or so they continued to plod on their way in silence, till at length a red glare, suddenly rising and falling through the dark and misty air, showed them that they were approaching the forge of Franz Creussen, and that the industrious smith, or some of his busy men, were still pursuing the labours of the day. The wide open shed, when they came near, displayed ten or twelve Cyclops, naked nearly to the waist, plying the busy hammer at different anvils, blowing the huge bellows, or heating the iron in the fire. But Franz Creussen himself was not amongst them; and while one of the travellers applied to have his horse shod as speedily as possible, the other inquired for the master of the forge, and was informed that he had gone into his cottage hard by, to take his evening meal. Fastening his horse by a hook, the horseman proceeded to seek Franz in his house; and as the smith was a wealthy man in his way of life, offering very cogent reasons for refusing to submit to many of the exactions which the neighbouring nobles generally laid upon the peasantry, his dwelling presented an appearance of comfort, and even luxury, seldom met with amongst persons in his station. "Who the fiend are you?" exclaimed the giant, as soon as the soldier entered. "I have seen your face somewhere, but do not know your name. Ah! now I bethink me; you are one of those who were riding with the lad Ferdinand this morning, are you not? Where is he?--but I can guess." "He's in a dungeon at Eppenfeld by this time," answered the man. "I and my companion are the only two that got off; so, as I know you have a friendship for him, Franz, I thought I would come in and tell you, while my comrade got his horse's shoe put on." "That was kind, that was kind," cried Franz Creussen, rubbing one of his temples with a forefinger as big as a child's arm. "There, take some wine; the boy must be got out." "Oh, the Count will get him out," answered the soldier; adding, "that's to say, if they don't put him to death first." "If they do, let them have good heed to their brains," said Franz Creussen; "for the Baron of Eppenfeld's skull would make a poor anvil, and yet it shall be tapped by my hammer, if he has injured the lad in life or limb. It's time that the Baron were out of the world, as well as some others;" and Franz Creussen fell into thought, and rubbed his temple again. The man, in the mean while, helped himself liberally to the wine which the smith offered, and in a minute or two after, the master of the forge raised himself suddenly, saying, "The horse must be shod by this time, and you must onto Ehrenstein with all speed, to bear these tidings to the lords there, for they must not let the youth lie long in Eppenfeld." "Oh, the Count will see right done, and that quickly," answered his companion.