“Perhaps it might be risked....listen to me, Meister!  You won’t be particularly safe in the streets, yourself, and could hardly reach the rampart without me.  I shall lose precious time; but you are his father, and this girl—­is she his sister?—­No?—­So much the better for him, if he lives!  It isn’t an easy matter, but it can be done.  Yonder good dame will take care of Lelaps for me.  Poor dog!  That feels good, doesn’t it?  Well then....I can be here again at midnight.  Have you a handcart in the house?”

For coal and iron.”

“That will answer.  Let the woman make a kettle of soup, and if you have a few hams....”

“There are four in the store-room,” cried Ruth.

“Take some bread, a few jugs of wine, and a keg of beer, too, and then follow me quietly.  I have the password, my servant will accompany me, and I’ll make the Spaniards believe you belong to us, and are bringing my men their supper.  Blacken your pretty face a little, my dear girl, wrap yourself up well, and if we find Ulrich we will put him in the empty cart, and I will accompany you home again.  Take yonder spicesack, and if we find the poor fellow, dead or alive, hide him with it.  The sack was intended for other things, but I shall be well content with this booty.  Take care of these silver toys.  What pretty things they are!  How the little horse rears, and see the bird in the cage!  Don’t look so fierce, Meister!  In catching fish we must be content even with smelts; if I hadn’t taken these, others would have done so; they are for my sister’s children, and there is something else hidden here in my doublet; it shall help me to pass my leisure hours.  One man’s meat is another man’s poison.”

When Hans Eitelfritz returned at midnight, the cart with the food and liquor was ready.  Adam’s warnings were unavailing.  Ruth resolutely insisted upon accompanying him, and he well knew what urged her to risk safety and life as freely as he did himself.

Old Rahel had done her best to conceal Ruth’s beauty.

The dangerous nocturnal pilgrimage began.

The smith pulled the cart, and Ruth pushed, Hans Eitelfritz, with his sword-bearer, walking by her side.  From time to time Spanish soldiers met and accosted them; but Hans skilfully satisfied their curiosity and dispelled their suspicions.

Pillage and murder had not yet ceased, and Ruth saw, heard, and mistrusted scenes of horror, that congealed her blood.  But she bore up until they reached the rampart.

Here Eitelfritz was among his own men.

He delivered the meat and drink to them, told them to take it out of the cart, and invited them to fall to boldly.  Then, seizing a lantern, he guided Ruth and the smith, who drew the light cart after them, through the intense darkness of the November night to the rampart.

Hans Eitelfritz lighted the way, and all three searched.  Corpse lay beside corpse.  Wherever Ruth set her foot, it touched some fallen soldier.  Dread, horror and loathing threatened to deprive her of consciousness; but the ardent longing, the one last hope of her soul sustained her, steeled her energy, sharpened her sight.