The thought that on the morrow Duke Bernhard of Weimar -- a leader
in importance second only to the Chancellor of Sweden -- would
fall unsuspiciously into the trap set for him goaded him almost
to madness, and he tossed restlessly on the straw through the long
hours of the night. Towards morning he heard a faint creaking of
bolts, then there was a sound of the locks of the door being turned.
He grasped his sword and sprang to his feet. He heard the door
close again, and then a man produced a lantern from beneath a long
cloak, and he saw Wallenstein's steward before him. The old man's
eyes were bloodshot with weeping, and his face betokened the anguish
which the death of his master had caused him.
"You have heard the news?" he asked.
"Alas!" Malcolm replied, "I have heard it indeed."
"I am determined," the old man said, "to thwart the projects of
these murderers and to have vengeance upon them. None have thought
of me. I was an old man, too insignificant for notice, and I have
passed the day in my chamber lamenting the kindest of lords, the
best of masters. Last evening I heard the soldiers boasting that
today they would capture the Duke of Saxe-Weimar, and I determined
to foil them. They have been feasting and drinking all night, and
it is but now that the troopers have fallen into a drunken slumber
and I was able to possess myself of the key of your dungeon.
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