Part 18 (1/2)
”Here we are, captain,” cried twenty soldiers, driving the crowd back with powerful strokes. They had profited by the favorable moment when the windows had not been watched, and had jumped to the ground.
Now followed a hand-to-hand struggle of indescribable fury. Nothing was heard but the wild imprecations and shouts of the fighting, the shrieks and groans of the wounded and the screams of the women and children.
But amidst the struggle and the general confusion Anthony Wallner did not lose his presence of mind. He had posted twenty sharpshooters in front of the windows, behind which the soldiers were standing, and, with rifles raised, they threatened death to all who should dare to approach the windows. Hence, the soldiers bad retired into the back part of the rooms, and were deliberating on the course which they were to pursue. But their faces were anxious and irresolute, and they whispered to each other: ”If our captain should fall, nothing remains for us but to surrender.”
But their captain had not yet fallen; he still lived and defended himself courageously, surrounded by his soldiers, against the Tyrolese, who attacked him furiously and parried the sabre-strokes with the b.u.t.t-ends of their rifles, but had no room, and did not dare to shoot at him, for fear of hitting in the wild melee one of their own men instead of their enemy.
But the odds were too great; six of the soldiers had already been knocked down by the b.u.t.t-ends of the Tyrolese rifles. The Tyrolese had wrested the sabres from the hands of the fallen soldiers, and had rushed with them upon their comrades. Then followed a furious hand-to-hand struggle. The fumes of the blood flowing on the ground, the shouts of the combatants, the hatred and fury with which the enemies stood face to face, had filled their hearts with boundless ferocity. n.o.body gave, n.o.body asked quarter. Under the b.u.t.t-end blows of the Tyrolese, the Bavarians sank to the ground with a glance of hatred; pierced by the swords of the Bavarians, the Tyrolese fell, with an imprecation on their lips.
Ulrich von Hohenberg was still holding his ground; his sword had spread destruction and death around him; he was still encouraging his soldiers with loud shouts, but his voice was beginning to grow faint, and his blood was running from a terrible wound in his shoulder.
”To the rescue, soldiers?” he shouted now with a last effort, ”do not suffer your captain to be slain by miserable peasants. To the rescue! help me or shoot me, that I may die an honorable death, and not be a.s.sa.s.sinated by the traitors.”
”I will comply with your wishes,” cried Anthony Wallner, rus.h.i.+ng into the midst of the b.l.o.o.d.y melee close up to the captain; ”yes, you shall die; I will put an end to your life!”
And his arm, brandis.h.i.+ng the sword of a fallen Bavarian, rose threateningly above Ulrich's head, while two other Tyrolese rushed upon him from behind with furious shouts.
At this moment two hands clutched Wallner's arm convulsively, and a loud, anxious voice exclaimed:
”Father, do not kill him! He is my bridegroom!”
”Her bridegroom!” echoed the Tyrolese, starting back in surprise.
”Your bridegroom?” asked Anthony Wallner, casting a look of dismay on his daughter Eliza, who was standing in front of her father, pale, with flas.h.i.+ng eyes, encircling Ulrich's neck with one arm, lifting up the other menacingly, and staring at her father with a resolute and defiant expression.
”Away from him, Lizzie!” cried Wallner, furiously; ”I cannot believe that my child will inflict on me the disgrace of loving a Bavarian.”
”Yes, I love him,” exclaimed Eliza, with glowing cheeks. ”If you wish to kill him, you must kill me first, for we have sworn to live and die together. He is my bridegroom, father, and shall become my husband, so help me G.o.d!”
”No, never!” cried Ulrich von Hohenberg, trying to disengage himself from Eliza. ”Never can the peasant-girl become my wife! Begone, Eliza, I have nothing further to do with you.”
”And still you swore a few minutes ago that you loved nothing on earth more dearly than me alone,” said Eliza, in a loud voice, ”and you implored me to go with you and remain always by your side?”
”But never did I say that I would marry you,” exclaimed Ulrich, pale with rage, and still trying to disengage himself from Eliza's arm.
”You would not marry her!” cried Anthony Wallner; ”you intended only to dishonor her, my proud Bavarian gentleman? You thought a Tyrolese peasant-girl's honor an excellent pastime, but you would not marry her?”
”Father, father,” cried Eliza, beseechingly, clinging firmly to Ulrich's side, ”father, I love him and cannot live without him. He is my bridegroom!”
”No, no!” shouted Ulrich, and a wild imprecation against Eliza burst from his lips.
The Tyrolese in the mean time had long since overpowered the few soldiers, and, attracted by the strange scene, crowded around the curious group; only the twenty sharpshooters were still standing with rifles raised in front of the windows of the imprisoned soldiers, and watching them with threatening eyes.
Anthony Wallner had dropped his arm and looked down musingly; on hearing the captain's insulting words, he gave a shout and lifted up his face flushed with pride and indignation.
”Just listen to the traitor, brethren!” he said in the cold, quiet tone which only the most profound exasperation imparts to the human voice. ”First he turned the girl's head and heart by the protestations of his love, causing her even to forget her father and her Tyrol; and now he insults her and refuses to marry her!”
”He said it only in his rage, father, but he loves me after all,”
exclaimed Eliza, clinging to the captain notwithstanding his resistance, and trying to wrest his sword from him.
”Begone, Eliza!” cried Ulrich, ”or--” He pushed her violently from him, and quickly raised his sword against her. But two Tyrolese prevented him from carrying out his fell design by rus.h.i.+ng upon him, seizing his arm with Herculean strength, wresting the sword from his hand, throwing the weapon tar away, and exclaiming triumphantly: ”Now surrender, Bavarian! You are our prisoner.”