"I cannot swear that his real name is Theurdank," said Ebbo, rallying
his forces, "but this I swear, that he is neither friend nor fosterer
of Schlangenwald, that I know him, and I had rather die than that the
slightest indignity were offered him." Here, and with a great effort
that terribly wrenched his wounded leg, he reached past Heinz, and
grasped his guest's hand, pulling him as near as he could.
"Sir," he said, "if they try to lay hands on you, strike my death-
blow!"
A bugle-horn was wound outside. The men stood daunted--Christina in
extreme terror for her son, who lay gasping, breathless, but still
clutching the stranger's hand, and with eyes of fire glaring on the
mutinous warriors. Another bugle-blast! Heinz was almost in the act
of grappling with the silent foe, and Koppel cried as he raised his
halbert, "Now or never!" but paused.
"Never, so please you," said the strange guest. "What if your young
lord could not forswear himself that my name is Theurdank! Are you
foes to all the world save Theurdank?"
"No masking," said Heinz, sternly.
Pages:
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452