But, though affecting unconcern, the mind of Prince Adolf was far from tranquil.  He was no longer the stalwart knight who, in the reign of Stanislaus Augustus, had, with his naked fist, beaten a lion to death in three minutes; and alone had kept the postern of Peterwaradin for two hours against seven hundred Turkish janissaries, who were assailing it.  Those deeds which had made the heir of Cleves famous were done thirty years syne.  A free liver since he had come into his principality, and of a lazy turn, he had neglected the athletic exercises which had made him in youth so famous a champion, and indolence had borne its usual fruits.  He tried his old battle-sword—­that famous blade with which, in Palestine, he had cut an elephant-driver in two pieces, and split asunder the skull of the elephant which he rode.  Adolf of Cleves could scarcely now lift the weapon over his head.  He tried his armor.  It was too tight for him.  And the old soldier burst into tears, when he found he could not buckle it.  Such a man was not fit to encounter the terrible Rowski in single combat.

Nor could he hope to make head against him for any time in the field.  The Prince’s territories were small; his vassals proverbially lazy and peaceable; his treasury empty.  The dismallest prospects were before him:  and he passed a sleepless night writing to his friends for succor, and calculating with his secretary the small amount of the resources which he could bring to aid him against his advancing and powerful enemy.

Helen’s pillow that evening was also unvisited by slumber.  She lay awake thinking of Otto,—­thinking of the danger and the ruin her refusal to marry had brought upon her dear papa.  Otto, too, slept not:  but his waking thoughts were brilliant and heroic:  the noble Childe thought how he should defend the Princess, and win Los and honor in the ensuing combat.

CHAPTER XII.

The champion.

And now the noble Cleves began in good earnest to prepare his castle for the threatened siege.  He gathered in all the available cattle round the property, and the pigs round many miles; and a dreadful slaughter of horned and snouted animals took place,—­the whole castle resounding with the lowing of the oxen and the squeaks of the gruntlings, destined to provide food for the garrison.  These, when slain, (her gentle spirit, of course, would not allow of her witnessing that disagreeable operation,) the lovely Helen, with the assistance of her maidens, carefully salted and pickled.  Corn was brought in in great quantities, the Prince paying for the same when he had money, giving bills when he could get credit, or occasionally, marry, sending out a few stout men-at-arms to forage, who brought in wheat without money or credit either.  The charming Princess, amidst the intervals of her labors, went about encouraging the garrison, who vowed to a man they would die for a single sweet smile of