their leader, observing the utmost precaution not to give an alarm.  All went well till they reached the farther end of the village, where, although the Baaren-hauter[2] who kept guard was as drunk as his companions on duty, a large shaggy dog which lay beside him was more vigilant.  As the little troop approached, the animal sent forth a ferocious yell, loud enough to have broken the rest of the Seven Sleepers, and which effectually dispelled the slumbers of his master.  The soldier snatched up his carabine and fired, he knew not well at what, or for what reason.  The ball, however, struck Arthur’s horse under him, and, as the animal fell, the sentinel rushed forward to kill or make prisoner the rider.

“Haste on, haste on, men of Arnheim! care for nothing but the young lady’s safety,” exclaimed the leader of the band.

“Stay, I command you;—­aid the stranger, on your lives!”—­said Anne, in a voice which, usually gentle and meek, she now made heard by those around her, like the note of a silver clarion.  “I will not stir till he is rescued.”

Schreckenwald had already spurred his horse for flight; but, perceiving Anne’s reluctance to follow him, he dashed back, and seizing a horse, which, bridled and saddled, stood picqueted near him, he threw the reins to Arthur Philipson; and pushing his own horse, at the same time, betwixt the Englishman and the soldier, he forced the latter to quit the hold he had on his person.  In an instant Philipson was again mounted, when, seizing a battle-axe which hung at the saddle-bow of his new steed, he struck down the staggering sentinel, who was endeavouring again to seize upon him.  The whole troop then rode off at a gallop, for the alarm began to grow general in the village; some soldiers were seen coming out of their quarters, and others were beginning to get on horseback.  Before Schreckenwald and his party had ridden a mile, they heard more than once the sound of bugles; and when they arrived upon the summit of an eminence commanding a view of the village, their leader, who, during the retreat, had placed himself in the rear of his company, now halted to reconnoitre the enemy they had left behind them.  There was bustle and confusion in the street, but there did not appear to be any pursuit; so that Schreckenwald followed his route down the river, with speed and activity indeed, but with so much steadiness at the same time, as not to distress the slowest horse of his party.

[At length, father and son reach Strasburg, where they deliver their mission to Charles the Bold; and with vol. iii. commences quite a different cast of characters.

In the cathedral at Strasburg, Philipson and his son meet with Margaret of Anjou, and the interview between the exiled Queen, and as we should now call Philipson, the Earl of Oxford, and his son, is one of the most interesting scenes in the whole work; for there is a tinge of melancholy in fallen royalty which is always extremely touching:]