flashed as it swept full circle
with scarce a pause, but it took the head of a man with it on its way.

Otho von Reuss was crowned. Helene, the Little Playmate, was avenged.

CHAPTER LV

THE LADY YSOLINDE SAVES HER SOUL

The Duke's body sank down upon that of the soldier, still further
blocking the passage. And as for his head, I know not where that went to.
But the rush of his followers was utterly checked by the barrier of dead.
With a wild cry, "The Duke is dead! Duke Otho is slain!" they rushed down
and out of the Red Tower, eager at once to escape unharmed, and to carry
to their companions in the Wolfsberg the startling news.

Nevertheless, I cleared my arm, wiped my axe, and again stood ready.

"Come!" I cried--"come all of you. You desire to kill me? Well, I am
still waiting!"

But not a man answered. The stairway was clear, save of the headless
dead. And then, sudden as summer thunder, through the dumb and empty
silence, I heard clear and loud the clanging of the hammers of Prince
Karl upon the gates of Thorn.

At that I felt that I must roar aloud in my fierce joy. I shouted angrily
for more and more assailants to come up the stair, that I might kill them
all. I yearned to be first at the gate, to see the men whom I had led
break their way in to deliver the city. I, more than any other, had
brought them there. I had trained them for that work. Best of all, across
the stairway beneath me lay dead Otho, Duke of the Wolfmark, beheaded by
the Red Axe of his own Justicer.

"Husband! Hugo! Are you wounded?" said a voice behind me, a voice
which in a moment recalled me from my bloody imaginings and baresark
fury of fighting.

"Helene!" I cried.

She approached, and would have thrown her arms about me. But I held out
my hand to keep her off.

"Not now, child," I said; "touch me not. I am unwounded, but wet!"

And so I was, wet with that which had spouted from the neck of Otho von
Reuss, as his trunk stood a moment headless in the stairway ere it fell
prone--a hideous thing to see.

"Come, Helene," I said, "we must away. There is other work for your
husband to-night. You I will place with the Bishop Peter. But my place is
with the men of Plassenburg and with Karl, my noble Prince."

And I took her by the hand to lead her out.

"Not that way!" she cried, shrinking back.

For the bodies of the two slain men lay there. And the stairs ran red
from step to step in red drips and lappering pools.