LITMIR.BIZ

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were despatched for the whole force to concentrate at Pirna, a strongly fortified camp among the defiles of the mountains separating Saxony from Bohemia. The position was almost an impregnable one, and they could receive reinforcements from Bohemia.

      On the arrival of the Prussian army the king fled, and Dresden threw open its gates. As Frederick hoped to detach Saxony from the alliance against him, the greater portion of the army were encamped outside the town; three or four regiments, only, marching in and quartering themselves in the empty Saxon barracks. The aid Saxony could render Frederick would be insignificant, but it was most desirable for him that he should ensure its neutrality, in order to secure his communications with Prussia when he marched forward into Bohemia.

      Finding the king had gone, his first step was to send a general officer, with a party of soldiers, to seize the archives in the palace. Among these was discovered the prize he most desired to find; namely a signed copy of the secret treaty, between Austria, Russia, France, and Saxony, for the invasion and partition of Prussia. Copies of this document were instantly sent off to the courts of Europe, thus affording an ample justification for what would otherwise have appeared a wholly unprovoked attack by Prussia upon her neighbours. Had it not been for the discovery of this document, Frederick would probably have always remained under the stigma of engaging in an unprovoked and ambitious war; for the court of Austria had hitherto, positively and categorically, declared to Frederick's ambassador and envoys the non-existence of any such treaty or agreement between the powers.

      As the queen had remained in the palace, Frederick took up his abode in another royal building, Marshal Keith and a large number of officers being also quartered there. In order to prevent any broils with the citizens, orders were issued that certain places of refreshment were to be used only by officers, while the soldiers were only to frequent wine and beer shops selected in the neighbourhood of the barracks, and were strictly forbidden to enter any others. Any soldier caught in an act of theft or pillage was to be hung, forthwith, and all were enjoined to observe a friendly demeanour to the people.

      One evening, Fergus had been sent with a message to the camp, two miles from the town. It was nearly ten o'clock when he started to ride back. When within half a mile of the town he heard a pistol shot, in the direction of a large house, a quarter of a mile from the road.

      Without hesitation he turned his horse's head in that direction. In a couple of minutes he arrived at a pair of large gates. They were closed, but he dismounted, fastened the bridle chain to them and, snatching the pistols from his holsters, ran along by the side of a high wall, until he came to a tree growing close to it.

      With some difficulty, for his high boots were ill adapted to such work, he climbed the tree, got on to the wall, and dropped down. He was in large park-like grounds. Guided by a light in a window, he ran to the house. The door was closed. After hesitating for a moment he ran along and, soon coming, as he expected, to an open window, he at once climbed through it. A door was open and, passing on, he entered a large hall in which a light was burning.

      Pausing to listen now, he heard voices upstairs and, holding a pistol in each hand and his drawn sword in his teeth, he lightly ascended the stairs. On the landing two men lay dead. Light was issuing from a half-closed door and, noiselessly approaching it, he looked in.

      It was a small room. At the end stood eight or ten scared women, huddled together; while a soldier, with a pistol in one hand and a sword in the other, stood sentry over them. These were evidently the servants of the chateau, who had been unceremoniously hauled from their beds and gathered there, under a guard, to prevent them from screaming or giving any alarm. As Fergus was equally anxious that no alarm should be given, at present, he retired quietly.

      A pair of double doors faced the top of the staircase. This was evidently the grand reception room and, listening intently, he could hear a murmur of voices inside. Turning the handle and throwing them suddenly open, he entered.

      Upon the floor lay the body of a gentleman. A lady, pale as death and in a half-fainting condition, leant back in a settee; while a girl of thirteen or fourteen lay on a couch, with bound hands and a handkerchief fastened across her mouth.

      Three soldiers were engaged in examining the contents of a large coffer of jewels. As the door opened they turned round and, on seeing a solitary officer, sprang forward with terrible oaths. Fergus shot one of them as they did so, dropped the pistol, and seized his sword. Both men fired. Fergus felt a stinging sensation in his left arm, and the pistol held in that hand dropped to the ground.

      Confident in his swordsmanship, he awaited the onslaught of the two marauders. The swords clashed, and at the second pass one of them fell back, run through the body. The other, shouting for aid, stood on the defensive. Fergus heard the rush of heavy steps coming down the staircase and, just as three other men rushed into the room, he almost clove his opponent's head in two, with a tremendous blow from his claymore.

      Two of the newcomers fired their pistols hastily–both missed–then rushed at him with their swords; and as he was hotly engaged with them the third, who was the sentry who had been placed over the women, advanced slowly, with his pistol pointed, with the intention of making sure of his aim. He paused close to the combatants, waiting for an opportunity to fire between the shifting figures of his comrades; when a white figure, after peering in at the door, ran swiftly forward and threw herself on his back, hurling him forward to the ground, his pistol exploding as he fell.

      One of the others started back at the sound, and as he did so Fergus ran him through the body. He then attacked his remaining opponent, and after a few passes laid him dead beside his comrade. Picking up his own fallen pistol, Fergus blew out the brains of the soldier, who was struggling to free himself from the girl's weight, and then helped her to her feet.

      "Well done, my brave girl!" he said. "You have saved my life. Now run and tell those wenches to stop screaming, and to come and help their mistress. These scoundrels are all killed, and there is nothing more for them to be alarmed at."

      Then he ran to the girl on the sofa, cut her cords with a dagger, and freed her from the gag. As he did so, she leapt up and ran to her mother's side; while Fergus, kneeling by the gentleman who had fallen before he had entered, turned him over and, laying his ear over his heart, listened intently.

      "He is alive," he said. "His heart beats, but faintly. Tell the maids to fetch some cordial."

      The women were coming in now, some crying hysterically, some shrieking afresh at the sight of the bodies that were strewn about the room.

      "Silence!" Fergus shouted sternly. "Now, while one runs to fetch some cordial, do three others come here, and aid me to lift your master gently on to this couch."

      The maid who had overthrown the soldier at once came forward to his assistance.

      "Now, Truchen and Lisa," the young girl said, stamping her foot, "come at once.

      "Do you, Caroline, run and fetch the stand of cordials from the dining room."

      The two women approached timidly.

      "Now," Fergus said, "get your arm under his shoulders, on your side, and I will do the same. One of you others support his head when we lift, the other take his feet."

      So, gently he was raised and laid on the couch. By the time this was done, the woman returned with a bottle of spirits.

      "Now," he said, "water and a glass."

      The young girl ran and fetched a carafe of water and a tumbler, standing on a table by the wall. Her hands shook as she handed it to Fergus.

      "Are you sure that he is not dead, sir?" she asked, in a hushed voice.

      "Quite sure. I fear that he is grievously wounded, but he certainly lives. Now, get another glass and put some spirits in and fill it up with water, and make your mother drink it, as soon as you have roused her from her faint."

      Fergus now gave all his attention to the wounded man, poured two or three spoonfuls of strong spirits and water between his lips, and then proceeded to examine his wounds. He had three. One was a very severe cut upon the shoulder. His left arm had been broken by a pistol bullet, and he had a dangerous

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