And now, the wounded man, as if cured by magic, sprang to his feet.  The sound of his name had given him health and strength, and healed the wound in his forehead.  He threw the handkerchief off, and rushed out, while Schnell with prayers and threats held back the old man, and entreated him to show them the nearest way to the border.

Trenck hastened to the stable—­two horses were in the stalls.  The young girl, who had held his head so tenderly, came up behind him.

“What are you doing, sir?” she said anxiously, as Trenck released the horses.  “You will not surely take my father’s horses?—­if you do, I will cry aloud for help.”

“If you dare to cry aloud, I will murder you,” said Trenck, with flaming eyes, “and then I will kill myself!  I have sworn that I will not be taken alive into the fortress.  Have pity, beautiful child—­ your eyes are soft and kindly, and betray a tender heart.  Help me—­ think how beautiful, how glorious is the world and life and liberty to the young!  My enemies will deprive me of all this, and chain me in a cell, like a wild beast.  Oh, help me to escape!”

“How can I help you?” said Mariandel, greatly touched.

“Give me saddles and bridles for these horses, in order that I may flee.  I swear to you, by God and by my beloved, that they shall be returned to you!”

“You have then a sweetheart, sir?”

“I have—­and she weeps day and night for me.”

“I will give you the saddles in remembrance of my own beloved, who is far away from me.  Come, saddle your horse quickly—­I will saddle the other.”

“Now, farewell, Mariandel—­one kiss at parting—­farewell, compassionate child!  Schnell, Schnell, quick, quick to horse, to horse!”

Schnell rushed out of the hut, the peasant after him.  He saw with horror that his horses were saddled; that Schnell, in spite of his foot, had mounted one, and Trenck was seated upon the other.

“My God! will you steal my horses?  Help! help!”

Mariandel laid her hand upon her father’s lips, and suppressed his cries for help.  “Father, he has a bride, and she weeps for him!—­ think upon Joseph, and let them go.”

The fugitives dashed away.  Their long hair fluttered in the wind, their cheeks glowed with excitement and expectation.  Already the village lay far behind them.  Onward, over the plains, over the meadows, over the stubble-fields!

“Schnell.  Schnell, I see houses—­I see towns.  Schnell, there lies a city!”

“That is Wunschelburg, and we must ride directly through it, for this is the nearest way to Bohemia.”

“There is a garrison there, but we must ride through them.  Aha! this is royal sport!  We will dash right through the circle of our enemies.  They will be so amazed at our insolence, that they will allow us to escape.  Hei! here are the gates—­the bells are ringing for church.  Onward, onward, my gallant steed, you must fly as if you had wings!”