and kennels to the main building,
where the Hall of Judgment was soon blazing like a torch. The
defenders seemed paralyzed by this misadventure. Some ran to the
castle well. Some threw themselves desperately from the walls, others
crowded to the gates, and through the bars besought our Prince's
pledge that mercy would be shown them.

Then the crowd without were ill to deal with, for they cried aloud, "No
mercy to the murderers! Show us our Saint Helena!"

Then it was that I leaped once more upon the scaffold, which had seen
such a sight the day before, and cried, "Duke Otho is dead! I, Hugo
Gottfried, slew him with this Red Axe. Prince Karl is come to save you,
and to give you back your ancient liberties. Your Saint Helena is my
wife, and is safe under the protection of Bishop Peter."

But though they cheered at my words they would not cease from crying,
"Show us Saint Helena, and if she bid us we will have mercy on the wolves
of the Wolfsberg!"

So it was necessary for Helene to be brought and to show herself to them,
for the sake of the poor souls sore driven and in jeopardy 'twixt the
fire and the knives.

"Have mercy on the poor folk!" she cried, when they had done shouting
because of her safety. "At worst, they are but misguided, ignorant men!"

By this time the doors of the Wolfsberg were thrown open from within, and
the men crowded out, casting down their arms in heaps on either side the
gate. They were then marched, under charge of the soldiers of
Plassenburg, to various strongholds which were pointed out by the
Burgomeister and the chiefs of the guilds. The fortified halls of the
trades were filled with them. By daybreak the whole of Thorn was in our
hands, while the gray barrens of the Wolfmark were lit for leagues by the
flaming Wolfsberg, which, on its craggy height, vomited fire and sparks
into the blackness of night.

And the reek of this great burning hung for days after in the heavens.
Thus was an end made to the iniquities of the house of the Black Duke
Casimir and the Red Duke Otho. And the last Duke mixed his ashes with
that of the fatal Tower. For on the morrow there remained only the
blackened walls and glowing skeleton beams of all that mighty
palace--which, indeed, has never been rebuilt. For the people of Thorn,
under the mild and equitable rule which followed, erected a great
memorial church upon the spot--as may be seen to this day, a landmark
from far to witness if I have lied in the t