vI.] THE RED BARON. 301

 

I saw but little of them—they feared more than they
loved me, and no wonder it was so, for I was a hard
father, and the only good 1 did for them was to
refrain from making them ride with me in my raids
against neighbouring barons and others whom I
deemed it proper to attack when it suited me. Their
mother had begged me to leave them at home on
these occasions, and I did this little in atonement for
the wrong I had done that angel-woman. But my
daughter was always with me when I was at home.
Home would not have been home without her. She
was the light and life of the castle. Everybody and
everything loved her. The horses knew her footsteps
and neighed when she passed their stable—the dogs
preferred a friendly pat from her to the caresses of
anybody else—whilst as for my retainers, there was
not one who would not willingly have laid down his
life for the young Baroness.

‘We had an affliction to endure ‘eetiiel which
rendered us still more dear to each other, for my
daughter loved me; yes, me, the cruel wretch, the
plague of the neighbourhood, the Red Baron! She
loved me, I say, and it is my one happy thought
now to have been loved by that sweet saint. The
affliction I mean was the loss of my second boy
Frederick. As if to punish me especially, he fell
from the very cliff from which I had caused my poor
wife's lover to be thrown, and was killed in the
same manner as that unhappy wretch. The blow
fell upon me with unusual severity, for I had always

-made the boy my favourite of the two brothers,
and the manner and place of the accident affected