es of the outbuildings, the castle itself, with all its wings,
took fire, and threw volumes of black smoke to the skies, and while
Sternbald, with three active fellows, dragged together all they could
lay hold of, and flung it upon their horses as lawful prize, the dead
bodies of the castellan and the bailiff, with their wives and children,
flew out of the upper window, accompanied by the shouts of Herse.
Kohlhaas, at whose feet, as he descended the stairs, the squire's gouty
old housekeeper threw herself, asked her, as he paused on one of the
steps: "Where is Squire von Tronka?" When, with a weak trembling
voice, she answered, that she thought he had fled to the chapel; he
called for two servants with torches, broke open an entrance with
crow-bars and hatchets, for want of a key, and turned upside down the
altars and benches. Still no squire was found, to the great grief of
Kohlhaas. It happened, just as he was leaving the chapel, that a
boy--one of the servants at the Tronkenburg--hurried by to take the
squire's coursers out of a large stone stall, that was threatened by
the flames. Kohlhaas, who at this moment saw his own two black horses
in a little thatched shed, asked the boy, why he did not save _them_,
and when the latter, as he put the key in the stable-door, answered
that the shed was already in flames, he tore the key out of the door,
flung it over the wall, and driving the boy with a shower of blows from
the flat of his sword, into the blazing shed, compelled him to save the
horses amid the frightful laughter of the bystanders. When, in a few
moments, the boy, pale as death, came with the horses out of the shed
that fell behind him, Kohlhaas was no longer there, and when he joined
the servants in the yard, and then asked the horse-dealer what he was
to do with the animals, Kohlhaas raised his foot with such violence,
that it would have been fatal had it reached him, leaped upon his brown
horse without giving any answer, went under the castle-gate, and while
his men carried on their work, quietly awaited the dawn of day. When
morning broke, the whole castle was burned, with the exception of the
bare walls, and no one was on the spot but Kohlhaas and his men. He
alighted from his horse once more in the bright rays of the sun,
searched every corner of the place, and when, hard as it was to be
convinced, he saw that his enterprise at the castle had failed, his
heart swelling with grief and pain, he sent out