Anton's head, but the distance was great, and the men got back to their
horses without injury. "Gallop! we know enough. They had not the wisdom
to keep quiet." The little band flew along the highway, the loud cries
of their pursuers sounding behind them. They arrived breathless at the
castle, where they found all in alarm. Fink met them at the entrance.

"You were right," cried Anton: "they are lying in ambush no doubt these
many hours, perhaps in hopes of surprising you, or both of us, indeed,
on the way to Neudorf. They would then have got the castle without a
struggle."

"How many of them may there be?" asked Fink.

"Indeed, we had no time to count them," replied Anton. "No doubt, only a
detachment has advanced so far; the greater number are behind in the
wood."

"We have roused them," replied Fink; "now we may expect their visit. It
is better for our people to receive them before sunset than in the
night."

"They come," cried Lenore's voice from the tower.

The two friends hurried to the platform. As Anton looked over the
battlements the sun was preparing to set. The golden sky turned the
green of the woods to bronze. Forth from the forest came, in orderly
procession toward the village, a troop of horsemen, about half a
squadron, followed by more than a hundred men on foot, the nearest of
them armed with muskets, the others carrying scythes. The lovely evening
light suffused the figures on the tower. A cockchafer hummed merrily at
Anton's ear, and, high in air, the lark was chanting his evening lay.
Meanwhile the danger was approaching. It came nearer and nearer along
the winding way, a dark, long-drawn-out mass, unheard as yet, but
plainly seen.

Still the cockchafer kept on humming, and the lark soared higher in its
rapturous song. At length the procession disappeared behind the first
cottages in the village. These were moments of breathless silence. All
looked steadfastly at the place where the enemy would emerge into sight.
Lenore stood next to Anton, her left hand clutched a gun, and her right
kept unconsciously moving the bullets in a sportsman's pouch. As soon as
the horsemen appeared in the middle of the village, Fink caught up his
cap, and said gravely, "Now, gentlemen, to our posts! You, Anton, be
kind enough to lead the baron down stairs." As Anton supported the blind
man down the steps, he pointed back at Lenore, who remained motionless,
gazing at the advancing enemy. "And you too, dear lady," co