No little consternation was spread through the garrison at the news: for
everybody knew the Rowski to be one of the most intrepid and powerful
soldiers in all Germany,--one of the most skilful generals. Generous
to extravagance to his own followers, he was ruthless to the enemy: a
hundred stories were told of the dreadful barbarities exercised by him
in several towns and castles which he had captured and sacked. And poor
Helen had the pain of thinking, that in consequence of her refusal she
was dooming all the men, women, and children of the principality to
indiscriminate and horrible slaughter.
The dreadful surmises regarding a war received in a few days dreadful
confirmation. It was noon, and the worthy Prince of Cleves was taking
his dinner (though the honest warrior had had little appetite for that
meal for some time past), when trumpets were heard at the gate; and
presently the herald of the Rowski of Donnerblitz, clad in a tabard on
which the arms of the Count were blazoned, entered the dining-hall. A
page bore a steel gauntlet on a cushion; Bleu Sanglier had his hat on
his head. The Prince of Cleves put on his own, as the herald came up to
the chair of state where the sovereign sat.
"Silence for Bleu Sanglier," cried the Prince, gravely. "Say your say,
Sir Herald.
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