But when we came before the walls, and with sound of trumpet and loud shouts summoned the Wolfsberg to surrender, a discharge of musketry from the walls, and the determined faces of a multitude of defenders showed us conclusively that all was not yet over.

It was no use wasting men in attacking the great pile of buildings with the force at our disposal.  We had men in plenty, but for breeching we needed the cannon left behind by these swift forces, which, marching day and night, had arrived in the very nick of time before the walls of Thorn.

Nevertheless, it was not the fate of the Wolfsberg to be taken by Lazy Peg and her compeers.

These ponderous pieces of ordnance were presently being dragged through the swamps and over the brick-dust barrens of the borderlands, and it might be three or four days before they could arrive to aid us.  There was nothing, therefore, to do but to sit down and wait, drawing a cincture that not a mouse could creep through about the cliffs of the Wolfsberg.

But deep within the heart of the old Red Tower there was one stronger than Lazy Peg fighting for us.

“Fire!  Fire!” cried the people in the streets.  “The Wolfsberg is on fire!” And so, surely, it was.  The flames burst out from the windows of the Red Tower and were rapidly carried by a dry fanning northerly wind along the wooden workshops 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.