courted her, when she served at
Schwerin; that it was true he was now married, and had many children,
but that she might still not be quite forgotten--in short, she asked
him leave to take advantage of this and other circumstances, which it
would be superfluous to name. Kohlhaas kissed her right joyously, told
her that he accepted her proposition, and that nothing more was wanted
than for her to stay with the castellan's wife, to secure an interview
with the sovereign, gave her the petition, had the brown horses
harnessed, and sent her off, safely stowed under the care of his
faithful servant, Sternbald.

Of all the unsuccessful steps which he had taken in the affair this
journey proved the most unlucky. For, in a few days, Sternbald
returned to the farm, leading slowly along the vehicle in which Lisbeth
lay stretched, with a dangerous bruise on her breast. Kohlhaas, who
approached it pale and terrified, could learn nothing connected as to
the cause of this calamity. The castellan, according to the servant's
account, had not been at home, they had, therefore, been obliged to put
up at an inn in the vicinity of the castle; this inn Lisbeth had left
on the following morning, and had told the man to remain with the
horses; it was not till the evening that she returned, in the condition
in which she was seen. It appeared that she had pressed forward too
boldly towards the sovereign, and that, without any fault on his part,
she had received a blow on the breast, from the shaft of a lance,
through the rude zeal of one of the guards who surrounded him. At
least so said the people who, in the evening, brought her to the inn in
a state of insensibility, for she herself could speak but little, being
prevented by the blood that flowed from her mouth. The petition was
afterwards taken from her by a knight. Sternbald said that he had
wished immediately to set out on horseback and inform his master of the
misfortune that had happened, but that, in spite of all the
representations of the surgeon who had been called, she had insisted on
being conveyed to her husband at Kohlhaasenbrueck. The journey had
quite exhausted her, and Kohlhaas put her in a bed, where she laid some
days striving with difficulty to draw her breath. Vain were all
endeavours to restore her to consciousness, that she might throw some
light on the events; she lay with her eyes fixed, and already glazed,
and returned no answer. Only once, just before her d