CHAPTER SIX.
The old woodcutter sat in his cell, his spirits yet unbroken, andresolved, as at first, to adhere to the faith. Still, accustomed as hehad been to a life in the open air, his spirits occasionally flagged andhis health somewhat suffered. Often and often he thought to himself, ashe examined the walls of his prison, "If I had an iron tool of somesort, I doubt if these walls would long contain me." But everything hehad possessed had been taken from him when he was first brought toprison, and not even a nail could he find with which to work as heproposed. He was seated on his heap of straw, and the gaoler enteredwith his usual fare of brown bread and water.
"I have a message for you, old man," said the gaoler, who, though roughin appearance, spoke sometimes in a kind tone. "A holy monk wishes tosee you, and bade me tell you so."
"I have no desire to see a monk," answered Moretz. "He cannot make mechange my faith, and it would be time lost were he to come to me."
"But he brings you a message from your grandchildren," said the gaoler."He bade me say that if you refused to see him--"
Moretz thought an instant. "Let him come then," he answered.
The gaoler nodded and took his departure. In a short time he returned,ushering in a sturdy, strong-looking man in a monk's dress. The gaolerretired, closing the door.
"You do not know me, friend Moretz," said his visitor, in a low voice."I have been admitted, that I might give you spiritual comfort andadvice," he said, in a louder tone, "and I gladly accepted the office."His visitor talked for some time with Moretz, producing from under hisdress a book from which he read, though not without difficulty, by thegleam of light which came in through the small opening which has beenspoken of. From another pocket he produced two iron instrumentscarefully wrapped up, so as not to strike against each other. "Here isa strong chisel," he said, "and here is a stout file. I have heard ofpeople working their way through prison walls with worse instrumentsthan these. Now farewell, friend Moretz. The time I am allowed toremain with you is ended, and the gaoler will be here anon to let me outof the prison."
"I fear you run a great risk," said Moretz, warmly thanking his visitor.
"For the Lord's people I am ready to run any risk," was the answer, andjust then the gaoler was heard drawing back the bolts. The friar tookhis departure.
The old woodcutter was once more left alone. He had piled up his strawon the side of the wall on which the opening was placed. He nowcarefully drew it back, and began working away at a stone which hadbefore been hidden by it. His success surpassed his expectations.There had been a drain or a hole left for some purpose, carelesslyfilled up. Thus hour after hour he scraped away, carefully replacingthe straw directly he heard the gaoler's step near his door. What asweet thing is liberty! The woodcutter's chief difficulty was to hidethe rubbish he dug out, the straw being scarcely sufficient for thatpurpose. As he was working, however, he let his chisel drop. Hethought the stone on which it dropped emitted a hollow sound. He workedaway in consequence, to remove it, and great was his satisfaction tofind beneath a hole of some size. He was now able to labour with moreconfidence. In a short time he had removed the stone from the wall,giving him an aperture of sufficient size to pass through. The earthbeyond was soft. And now he dug and dug away, following up the hole inthe pavement. He was afraid sometimes that his hands covered with earthmight betray him, but the gaoler's lantern was dim, and he managedalways to conceal them as much as possible when the man entered.
At length he felt sure from the height he had worked that he was nearthe surface of the earth on the outside. He now feared lest it mightfall in during the daytime, and this made him hesitate about workingexcept during the hours of the night. He had saved up as many crusts ofbread as his pockets would hold, in order, should it become necessaryfor him to lie concealed for any length of time, that he might havewherewith to support life. And now the time arrived when he believedthat he should be able to extricate himself altogether. He waited tillthe gaoler had paid his last visit, and then watched anxiously till thethickening gloom in his cell showed him that night was approaching. Hehad all along of course worked in darkness, so that it being night madeno difference to him. He now dug away bravely, and as he had not tocarry the earth into the hole, he made great progress. At length,working with his chisel above his head, he felt it pierce through theground. Greater caution was therefore necessary, lest the falling earthshould make a noise.
The fresh air which came down restored his strength, and in a fewminutes he was able to lift himself out of the hole. He did not,however, venture to stand up, but lying his length on the ground, gazedaround him. The dark walls of the old castle rose up on one side. Onthe other, at the bottom of a steep bank, was the moat, partly filledup, however, with rubbish. Beyond, another bank had to be climbed, andbeyond that again was the wild open country, the castle being justoutside the walls of the town. He quickly formed his plan.
Slowly crawling on, he slid down the bank, and then stopped to see whatcourse he should take. There appeared to be no sentries on the watch onthat side of the castle, it being supposed probably that escape of anyprisoners was impossible. He was thus able more boldly to search for apassage across the moat. The night was cloudy and the wind blew strong,which, though he was in consequence not so well able to find his way,prevented him being seen or heard. At length, partly wading and partlyscrambling over the rubbish, he reached the opposite bank. He waited torest, that he might the more rapidly spring up the bank. He gained thetop, when looking back and seeing no one, he hurried along the openground. He stopped not till he had obtained the shelter of somebrushwood, which formed, as it were, the outskirts of the forest. Hewas well aware that, as at daylight his escape would be discovered, andthat he could easily be tracked, he must make the best speed hisstrength would allow. He knew the country so well that he had nodifficulty in finding his way even in the dark. He could not, however,venture to return to his own cottage. There was no lack ofhiding-places where he might remain till the search after him hadsomewhat slackened.
At length, weary from his exertion, and having overrated his strength,he sat himself down to rest, as he thought in safety, for a few minutes.His eyelids closed in slumber, and, unconsciously to him, hour afterhour had passed away.
The sound of horns and the cries of huntsmen were heard in the forest.They awoke old Moretz from his sleep. He started up, but it was toolate to conceal himself. A horseman in a rich costume, which showed hisrank, was close to him. "Whither away, old friend?" he exclaimed, asMoretz instinctively endeavoured to conceal himself in some brushwoodnear at hand. He stopped on hearing the voice of the huntsman.
"My lord," he answered, "I throw myself upon your mercy. I am guiltlessof any crime, and was cast unjustly into prison, from which I have mademy escape. If I am retaken, my life will be forfeited."
"That is strange," exclaimed the nobleman. "I will do my best toprotect you, but I cannot venture to dispute with the law, as I mighthave done once on a time. As we came along we met a gang of persons,hunting, they told us, for an escaped prisoner. There is no time to belost. Here!" and the nobleman called to one of his attendants, a tallman, very similar in figure to the woodcutter. "Here; change dresseswith my old friend, and do you, as you are a bold forester and a strong,active young man, climb up into the thickest tree, and hide yourself asbest you can till these hunters of their fellow-men have passed by."
The nobleman's orders were speedily obeyed, and Moretz, dressed in hislivery, mounted the groom's horse and rode on with the party. Thegroom, meantime, who had put on the old man's clothes, affording nosmall amusement to his companions, climbed up into a thick tree, as hehad been directed to do by his master.
"We will send thee a livery, my man, in which thou may'st return homesoon, and satisfy thy hunger, which may be somewhat sharpened by longerabstinence than usual," said the count, as he rode on.
Scarcely had these arrangements been made, when the party f
rom the gaolin search of the fugitive came up. "Has the Count Furstenburg seen anold man in a woodcutter's dress wandering through the forest?" inquiredtheir leader, in a tone which sounded somewhat insolent.
"The Count Furstenburg is not accustomed to answer questions unlessrespectfully asked," replied the noble; "and so, master gaoler, you mustfollow your own devices, and search for your prisoner where you may besthope to find him." Then sounding his horn, he and his whole party rodeon together through the forest, taking care to keep old Moretz well intheir midst. Making a wide circuit, the count led them back to thecastle.