The herald., 1896-05-17

searching for her? From thence she
might be able to make her way down the
bed OF the stream to Martins Loeb, where
the streamlet spouted through an archway
OF stone down the cliff side. She had
clambered there many a time in search of
wild flowers, and had descended halfway
to st. Polten along the side of the cliff.
1t was true the foothold was exceedingly
precarious, even in daylight, consisting of
the merest projections OF the limestone
rock. But no one had ever attempted 1t
In the twilight still less at night. at which
time alone she could hope for success.
All this kept passing and re-passing In
the busy little brain while Gertrud went on
with her knitting, or went her rounds
above and below stairs. .-se >-f
II wonder il they have really gone" she
said to herself, "or II they are only lying
in hiding. I shall see. shall give the
real Mademoselle a chance to distinguish
herself" e.t 80
And she set the hunters Tyrolese hat,
in which she had been accustomed to roam
the woods, upon the head of the dress
makers model, which, like a thrifty land
ward damsel. she used in the making Of
her attire. She set Mademoiselle upon a
chair with a cloak about her and pushed
her to the window. There she swayed idi-
otically forward as If looking out. A jet
Of white smoke sprang promptly out Of
an oleander bush on the far side of the
lawn. There followed the sharp report Of
a needle-gun and bullet pitted itself in
the thick beam above the window.
"Well done Mademoiselle,' said Truda
smiling. ,t ..
And she withdrew the decoy back again
into her bedchamber.
Thereupon Gertrud went down and ex-
planned her scheme for bringing relief, tell
ing them what she had done. But the
men, knowing what they knew, would not
hear OF her plan for a moment. II any
were to go for help 1t must be himself,
was st. Polten's solution. "If we are to
die, why die we must" was that of Alt
Karl.
But in her heart the girl refused to &C.
cept either The Count certainly could
not go. because he did not know the only
practicable way to st. Polten, that through
Martins Loeb. Her father might be ready
and willing to die, but not so she, nor, il
she judged Alright, the Count either. So
Truda looked carefully to her revolver,
which had been her fathers during the war
and slipped it loosely into the pocket of
her coat, ready to her hand. Then she put
on the short mountaineer's kilt in which
she had so often gone to the hunt with her
father, and setting the mans Tyrolese hat
firmly on her head she stood ready. After
all it was only fifty steps across the grass,
and fifty through the wood to the begin
ming of the cleft, and in the quick-coming
dusk she would be there in a moment.
The dark comes swiftly enough among
the wooded foothills of st. Polten. The
sun was already set and the brown shades
were cooling into blue with the rising Of
the night mist out OF the hollow places.
Truda laid her plans rapidly She ar
ranged her half-dozen guns in row and
discharged them one after the other, lifting
them in turn to her shoulder and firing
them into the belt of woodland through
which she meant to run. The Count came
obviously upstairs to see if she had pre-.
cipitated a general engagement. But all
was still and quiet, not even the shaking
OF branch betray ed the presence of the
lurking foc.
The girl asked the Count to accompany
her downstairs for moment. There was
something to be done with which he could
help her. So they went below, and Ger
trud very swiftly undid the fastenings of
the back door of the chalet. Then stand
ing on the doorstep she said, "Now mean
to go down to St. Polten by Martins Loeb
to bring up the cavalry. Shut the door
swiftly after me!' And with that she was
gone out of his sight, melting into the dusk
like q shadow.