The Miller and his men : or, The Secret robbers of Bohemia. A powerful romance

Preface

CoNI-DENT that we need not offer any apology to our numerous patrons for presenting them to their old friend, "TheMillee and His Men," in a new form, we shall ouly detain them by a few preparatory observations, especially as the immense circulation of this publication is a sufficient proof of their approbation. The extraordinary success of the drama on its production thirty years ago at Covent Garden Theatre, and the immense popularity it has ever since maintained, and the novel, romantic, and startling effects and incidents it combined, formed most excellent and tempting materials for the pen of the Komancist — and, aided by his own inventive faculties for ils amplitude and continuous " chain of events," the Author flatters himself that he has succeeded in producing a work which has pleased, and will continue to please the most fastidious reader.

The aim has been that of the school of German Romance— hence the introduction of the various legends that are interspersed throughout the tale, aud which will be sound to contain all that absorbing interest for which that species of fiction is so widely famed, and which can never fail to please tbe lovers of the wild and wonderful. Having said thus much of our present literary offspring, with many thanks sor their continued patronage, we leave it in charge of our readers. London 1852. CHAP ii R I. IHE l'OBEST OF TERROR.— THE .IILLEK AND HIS MEN.— TII-. LOVEE3. IHE RIVAL.— THE TlIttBAT.-l-fED DA.N'GM., hove been gU-cn Is it, fur a most fright- ' ful place, indeed, it was. BUck. gbomy, ; and frowning, it was sufiirir-nt lo eV-it | the courage of the boldest iravelhr ' who beheld it. The black mass in spired a-ve.

Its Luge tree?, _h--:tcring j Onr of lhe wildest and the most extensile forests in Bohemia, some cenl uries ago, was the one known, Irom the evil reports that were attached lo it, by the name of " The Death Haunt." And a more appropriate title could not 2o. 1. like hideous giants together so thickly, j rendered it almost impervious, while the rough underwood made it almost impassable, even to those who were accustomed to it. Woe to the traveller who should become involved in its gloomy intricacies, for it might be con- ■ sidered next to a miracle if he should succeed in extricating himself from them, or escape being waylaid and murdered by the daring ruffians who infested the forest, and who committed the most brutal outrages with perfect impunity, for every attempt to defeat and bring them to punishment had i hitherto signally failed, nor could the least clue be obtained as to the place of | their concealment.

The awful crimes perpetrated by these secret desperadoes a had created a universal panic throughout : that part of the country, and no one who \ was acquainted with the forest would ,• venture into it on any account whatever, unless they were compelled to do so by very important and urgent business, and on such occasions they generally made ij up their minds to the foreboding that ,'■ they should never return from it agaso i alive. such as to win for him the warmest esteem and friendship of all who knew him. He had been for many years a widower, and an only daughter was the comfoit and prop of his declining years, possessed as she was of every virtue that can adorn the female sex, and fond, and dutiful as she ever was to him. Claudine had scarcely seen twenty summers, and nature had never created a more gentle, loving, innocent, and beauteous maiden.

Insensible, indeed, must that individual have been who could have gazed on her with any other feelings than those of esteem and admiration. Numerous were toe young men of the neighbourhood whose hearts she had captivated, and who bad sought her hand ; but, although Claudine was ready to admit their various claims ta her respect and frendship, the only one who had been able to make any impression upon her heart was the young and handsome Lothair, a youth possessed of every generous and noble quality, of superior manners, for one in his sphere? of life, but who, alas ! was unfortunately poor, and Kelmrr — although he regarded him with the utmost friendship, and considered bis virtues rendered him worthy of the hand of his daughter— consequently rejected his suit, and favoured the addresses of his more wealthy rival, tbe Miller Grindoff, who for some time had professed the most ardent at tachment for the lovely Claudine, and was anxious that she should become his bride forthwith.

At night time, and when the tempest howled, and the screecbowl sent forth its dismal cry, how doubly awful was tbat fearful place ! It must have been a bold man who could have been induced to brave its horrors. But none but strangers would venture to do so, and then only because they would be ignorant of Ihe dangers they would have to encounter. On the banks of a river, which ran along the borders of the forest, stood the cottage of old Kelmar, which was on the estate of Count Friberg; and at I some distance from the cottage, on a 1 rocky eminence, stood a mill, which I was in the possession of a man of considerable property, who was known by Ithe name of Grindoff, and who had a number of men in his employ, for whose services he seemed to pay most liberally, and who were all most faithfully attached J>! to him, working for him willingly from ', eaily to late. 1 Kelmar the cottager had once been the richest tenant on the estate, but. unavoidable misfortunes bad reduced | j him to comparative poverty, though his i i character sor honesty and integrity was ] <fct— -—.^— _— . -. —^_ stood This, as may be supposed, was a as on source of the greatest misery to the d at lovers, and, as Kelmar remained obdu on a rate, they were driven almost to absolute ■hich despair.

The disparity of their ages conwas not the only cause of Claudine's a by objection to the suit of Grindoff; but ad a there was something in his manners hose that rendered him particularly repulsive ally, to her ; and in spite of all her efforts tr> ched the contrary, she could not help viewing from him with mingled feelings of dread aud suspicion. Thus matters stood at the been commencement of the more important but. and startling incidents of our narrative. iced I The sun had just sunk to rest on the his /evening of a beautiful summer's day, was j leaving the broad traces of his retiring THE SECRET ROBBERS OE BOHEMIA. 3 •glory in the western horizon, when several ofthe miller's men were seen descending the eminence, and having crossed the river in tbeir boats, they landed near to 1 Kelmar's cottage.

They seemed to be in high glee, aud, resting for a minute or two on their sacks, they gave vent to their feelings by singing the following chorus : " Nor ever will, dear father," returned Claudine; "but—" • " But what, child :" demanded Kel mar. " I — I — " replied Claudine, in hesi tating accents, " I find it very lonely in passing the borders of the forest without —without—" " Without Lothair!" added her father, " When the wind Maws, Claudine blushed more deeply than besore, as sbe answered : " You know it is dangerous, father." "Not half so dangerous as lovers," retorted the old man, drily. " But tbe robbers," observed his daughter. When the mill goes, Our hearts are all light and merry; When the wind drops, When the mill slops, We drink and sing, hey down derry.'' They then departed from the spot, just as old Kelmar emerged from his cottage.

"What!" he ejaculated to himself, looking after them, "more sacks ! more grist to the mill I Early and late the miller thrives ; he that was my tenant, is now my landlord ; this hovel, that once sheltered him, is now the only dwelling of bankrupt, broken-hearted Kelmar." He sighed, and reflected. " Well," he adaed, after a short pause, " I strove my best against misfortune, and, thanks be to Heaven, have fallen respected, even by my enemies." He was aroused from this lethargy, by feeling a soft and delicate hand placed affectionately on his shoulder, and looking up, be beheld his daughter, with a basket on her arm, by his side, and looking tenderly in his face. " So, Claudine," he said, " you are lelurned. Where stayed you so long ?" "I was obliged to wait ere I could cross the ferry," replied Claudine ; " there were other passengers."

" Amongst whom," observed Kelmar, looking earnestly and inquiringly upon her, " I suppose was one in whose company the time flew so fast, the sun had set before you observed it ?" Claudine blushed deeply, and averted her looks for a moment, but she quickly recovered herself, and answered : " Rohbers ! What then . They cannot injure thee or thy fat her -alas ! we have no more to lase. Yet thou hast one treasure left — innocence ! Guard well thy heart, for should the fatal passion there take root, 'twill rob thee of thy peace." " You told me once," rejoined Clau dine, ,; love's impulse could not be resisted." " When the object is worthless, it should not be indulged," returned Kel mar. *' And is Lothair worthless ?" de manded the beauteous damsel, with a look of gentle reproach. " No ; but he is poor almost as you ...

" are. " Do riches without love give happiness ?" interrogated Claudine. "Never!" replied her father. " Then I must be unhappy if I wed the miller, Grindoff," said Claudine, simply, but emphatically. "Not/so — not so," said Kelmar; "independence gives comfort ; but love without competence is endless misery. You can never wed Lothair." " I can never love the miller," an swered Claudine, firmly. " Then yon shall never marry him," remarked her father; "though to see you Griudoll's wife be the last wish of your old father's heart. Goin, child; go in, Claudine." The maiden kissed the hand of her venerable parent affectionately and gratefully, and then retired into the cottage. "Tis plain," said Kelmar to himself when she vvas gone, " lhat her heart i# "No, indeed, father, since you desired me not to meet Lothair — aud I told him what you had enjoined — I have never seen him but in the cottage here, when you were present."

"You are a good girl — a dutiful child," said Kelmar, affectionately and appro vingly, " and 1 believe you ; for you never yet deceived me." rivetted on Lothair, and honest Grin doff jet must sue in vain." He nas inteirupted by the sudden appearance of Lothair, who, from the anxiety of his looks, seemed to have something of importance to communi- "Listen," answered Lothair. "A3 1 crossed the hollow way In the sorest, I heard a rustling in the copse. Clau dine had reached the bank above. As I vi as following, voices, subdued and whispering, structf my ear. Her name was distinctly pronounced. ' She comes,' said one. ' Now, now we may secure her,' cried thc second, and instantly two men advanced. A sudden exclamation burst from my lips, and arrested their intent ; they turned to seek me, and with dreadful imprecations, vowed death to the 'intruder.

Stretched beneath a bush of holly, I lay concealed ; they passed within my reaoh. I scarcely breathed, while I observed them to be ruffians, uncouth and savage. They were banditti." cate. "Ab ! Kelmar," he ejaculated hastily, " and alone ! Where is ClaudiDe r" "At home in her father's house," replied the old man, " where sbe should be '." " Then she has escaped," observed Lothair, with a look of satisfaction ; ""she is safe, and 1 am happy. I did not accompany her in vain." " Accompany ! — Accompany !" repeated Kelmar, hastily, and with a look of surprise and vexation. " Has she then toid me a falsehood? Were you with her, Lothair ?" " No — ye — jes," stammered Lothair, confusedly, and he added aside — ''I must not alarm him.1' "Banditti!" repeated Kelmar; "are they not yet content ? All that I had — ali the hand of Providence had spared, they deprived me of ; and wouid they take my child :" "'Tis plain they would," returned Lothair.

" Naw, Kelmar, hear the last proposal of him you bave rejected. I'll seek these robbers! If I should fall, your daughter will more reac'ily obey your wish, and become the wile of Grin doff. If I should succeed, promise ber to me. The reward I shall receive will secure our future comfort, and thus your fears and your objections both are satis fied." "What mean those contradictions?" demanded Kelmar, impatiently. " She knew not I was near her," replied Lothair. " You have denied our meeting, but you cannot prevent my loving her. 1 have watched her daily through the village, and along the bor ders of the forest.-' " I thank you," returned the old man, coldly, " but she needs no guard. Her poverty will protect her from a thief." " Will her beauty protect her from a libertine i" demanded Lothair.

"Lothair," said the old man, with some emotion, "thou art a cood hid, .1 noble lad, and worthy my daughter's love. ; she had been freely thine but that I know, by sad experience, bow keen the pings of poverty are to a parent's heart." '• Her virtue will," answered Kelmar. " I doubt it," returned Lothair. "What can her resistance avail against the powerful arm of villany ?'' " Is there such a wretch ?" interrogated Kelmar, hastily. "Then you consent?" said Lothair, eagerly. •'I do — I do," returned Kelmar. " But be careful, I pray you. 1 fear it is a rash attempt. \ou must have help." "Then, indeed, I' fail, as others have before me," said Lothair. " No, Kelmai-, I must go alone — peunylcss — unarmed, aud secretly. None but yourself must kuow my purpose or my person." " Be it as you will," returned Kel mar; " but pray be careful.

Conic, you sliall see her. ' " There is." "Lothair — Lothair!" ejaculated thc old man, has'ily, " 1 fear you glance at the Miller tirindess. This is not well — this is not just." "Kelmar," returned the young man, earnestly, "you wrong me. 'Tis true he is mine enemy, for lie bars my road to happiness — yet, I respect his charac ter ; tne riches that industry has gained him, he employs in assisting the unfor tunate. He has protected you and your child, and I honour him." " ll not lo Grindoff, to whom did you allude ?" inquired Kelmar. With these words, Kelmar entered THE SECSET ROBBERS 0? EOimUT \. 5 the cot fase, "leaving Lothair reanimated with fresh hope and courage. "Yes," said Lothair, when lie was left alone, " I'll follow ; it. may be my last farewell. I see the mill has stopped, so Grindoff will bc here anon.

He elvays visits the cottage at nightfall, when labour ceases. Y7el, at the peril of my life, I'll seek these villains. With the juice of herbs my face shall be dis coloured, t.nd in the garb of misery, I'll throw myself within their power. The rest I leave to Providence. Rut see, lhe miller comes." " Well, time will show." observed Lothair. " I bear vou no enmity. Farewell," "Whither go you?'' inquired Grin doff, hastily, " To tiic village," ansvrered Ms com panion. " I miiit haste, or it will be late ere I reach the ferry." "Stay," desired Grindoff; "my boat shall put you across the river. Beside?, the evening looks stormy; come, it will save you half a league in your journey." "Well," replied Lothair, "as the weather certainly does rot look very promising, I accept your offer, and think you."

" ft will save his life," said the ruffian, Biber, who, with his companion, was watching them, and listening to the. conversation that passed between them, from behind a tree where they had secreted themselves. As Lothair entered the cottage, Grin deff appeared in the distance, coming from the crag in the rock, and the boat then disappeared, while at the same timo, two forbidding-looking men arrived stealthily at the spot, and peeped in at the window of the cottage. " We are too late," said one of them ; "she has reached the cottage. Gololz." "Curses on the interruption that detained us, Riber," said Golotz; "we shall be rated for this failure." " Hush !'' said Riber, going again cautiously to the window, "not so loud. Ha! Lothair !" " Your hand," said the miller. "Farewell," returned Lothair, taking it ; and then stepping into lhe boat, he pushed off, without making another observation.

"So," said the miller to liimse!f„ wheu Lothair had departed, " I am rid of him, and my plot works well ; fool ! be little suspects the manner in which 1 have dee i.ed him, and the deep-laid designs 1 have in contemplation. If he had met Claudine, it is not at aU un likely that ray plans might have been foiled ; but she is safe." Now then for Kelmar.'' " Lothair !" repeated Golotz, " 'twas he, then, that marred our purpose ; — he shall smart for it." "Back, back, he comes!" said Biber. "On his return, he dies; he cannot pass us both." They retired cautiously from the spot, and Grindoff arrived just at the moment lhat Lothair emerged from the cottage. "Ha! Lothair!" exclaimed the miller, evidently somewhat disconcerted. "Ay," replied Lothair, " my visit here displeases yon, no doubt." " Nay," replied Grindoff, concealing his real feelings as well as he could, * ' 'Lis true we are rivals, butnot enemies, 1 trust.

AVe love the same girl; we strive ihe best we can to gain her; if you arc fortunate, IM wish you joy with all my heart; if I should have the luck on't, you'll do the same for me, I hope." " You have little to fear," said Lo- With these words he retired into the cottage, and Riber and Golofz came for ward from I heir concealment. " Curses on this mi -chance," said th. former, " we have lost him." "True," replied Golotz, "but we must not despair; a time may come." "A time shall come," said lliber.. " We are not t:> be so easily defeated in any purpose upon which we have fixed our mind. Yes, a time shall come,. and shortly too." The two ruffians exchanged siguisieant and threatening looks, and theu walked stealthily from the spot. thair. " I am poor, you are rich. He needn't look far that would see the end On't." " But," returned the miller, "you are young and likely ; 1 am honest and rough ; the chances are as much yours as mine."

MEV; OR, 6 wonder to me. We have had a narrow escape from the gentlemen cut-throats who just attacked us, and should they overtake us with any of their comrades, we may reckon ourselves as no better than dead men to a certainty. I only wish myself anywhere rather than in such a situation as this, and I am so hungry that I verily believe before long I shall be under the painful necessity of devouring your portmanteau, wardrobe and all, and I am much afraid that I should not find them very easy of diges tion."

Chapter II

A STORM. — THE BENIGHTED TRAVEL- LEES. — THE BOBBEKS. — PERILOUS ADVENTURES. — THE PLOT THICKENS. The storm whioh had for some time been threatening in the heavens, at length commenced, and everything gave token of a fierce and tempestuous night. The night was black as pitch, except when at intervals the vivid lightning blazed along the sky ;— a heavy tor rent of rain deluged the earth, and the howling of the wind kept pace with the awful and tremendous peals of thunder, rendering it altogether a scene of tbe most terrific description. In such a fearful hour as this two travellers were endeavouring to make their way through the forest, having become lost and bewildered in its mazes, and with but little prospect of tbeir being enabled to extricate themselves from it ; for every effort they made to do so seemed to involve them still more •deeply in its intricacies.

"Pshaw, Karl," said the Count Fri berg, for such was the name of the nobleman, " how can you give way to such absurdities as these, under the disagreeable circumstances in wbich we are placed ? Rather set your wits to work, and endeavour to find some path or outlet from this forest, and probably we shall soon be able to reach some habitation where we may be able to procure shelter and refreshment." " Ab, count," replied Karl ; " how very easy it is to talk; but who the deuce is to find that wbich never existed? Path! Outlet! Why, we might as well try to reach the antipodes in a washing tub. And then it is so confounded dark, that there is no such thing as seeing one's hand before one. Weugh ! there was a peal. I felt it shake all my limbs like the shock of an earthquake. Well, if these are what you call some of the pleasures of travel ling, I do not care if I never enjoy them so future."

Both the travellers were young men, and the tall and commanding figure of one of them, and the richness of his apparel, denoted him to be a person of some rank, while the more humble dress of bis oonvpanion, together with the cii cumstanceof bis carrying aportmanteau, plainly showed that he filled the occu pation of his domestic. They were both drenched to the skin, and, altogether, in no very amiable plight. Still, they exerted themselves to the utmost to force tbeir way through tbe deep tangled mazes of the forest, and to find some outlet, but without the least prospect of meeting with any success, and their difficulties appeared to in crease upon them the further they ad vanced. The storm grew more violent every moment, and the travellers still endeavoured to find their way througti the dark forest, but so vain; and Karl, suddenly pausing and looking around him, was not a little alarmed to find himself alone. 1 ."

Well," he muttered to himself i " here's a pretty mess ! Here's a precious piece of work ! Pleasant, upon my soul ! — Lost ina labyrinth, without love or liquor — tfie sun gone down, a storm got up, and no getting, out of this vile forest, turn which ever way one will." " Hilloa !— Karl ! Karl!" he now heard the voice of his master shout. " A plagne on this misfortune," said the young nobleman, " to be benighted in such a storm, and in such a place as this. It seems as though we should never be able to escape from this forest, .and my patience is almost exhausted." " You may say that, master of mine," replied his attendant, "and if yours is not, mine thoroughly is. We had much better have remained at the village for the night, for if ever we come out of this confounded forest alive, it will be a " So, you are there, master of mine, are you f" said Karl. ■' Ah, you may call and bawl, you'll not disturb any- THE SECRET ROBBERS OF BOHEMIA. 7 thing here but a wild boar or two, and a wolf, perhaps."

" Where are you, Karl ?" demanded his master, at that moment arriving at the spot. "Where am I?" returned the facetious domestic; " that's the very thing I want to know myself; this cursed wood has a thousand turnings, and notone that turns right." "Careless coxcomb !" said the Count Priberg, angrily ; " did yon not say but a short time since that you could remember the track ?" " So I should, sir," returned Karl, j "if 1 could only find the path ; but trees ! will grow, and since I was here last, the place has got so bushy, that — that I have lost my way." sir ; Lord how it rumbles. This wav • sir, this way !" With these words the loquacious attendant, with no little difficulty, forced his way through the briars,, followed by his master. In the meantime, Grindoff the milieu and old Kelmar were seated before a blazing fire in one. of the rooms of the cottage, and listening to the loud voice of the tempest, which raged with such unmitigated violence without.

" 'Tis a rough night, miller," remarked Kelmar; "the thunder roars, aDd by the niurmurinsr of the flaod, the mountain torrents have descended.— Poor Lothair, he'll scarcely have crossed the ferry." "You have lost your senses," said his " Lothair by this time is safe at home, master. old friend," answered Grindoff. "Besore "No, sir," returned Karl, "I wish I the storm commenced, I passed him in had ; unfortunately, my senses are all in my boat across the river. He seems the highest state of perfection." , less anxious for his daughter than this "Why, then, not use them to some daring stripling," he added, aside, and effect ?" demanded the count. had old Kelmar watched the expression " 1 wish I had the opportunity ; . my of his countenance narrowly, he might poor stomach can testily that I taste — " have had some suspicion of the real " What ?" i thoughts that were at that moment " Nothing," rejoined Karl.

" It's as passing in his mind. empty as my head ; but I see danger, < " Worthy man !" ejaculated the cot 1 smell a tempest, hear the cry of wild tager, "you'll be rewarded for all such beasts, and feel — " ' deeds hereafter. Thank God ! Claudine "How?" interrupted Friberg. is safe. Hark!" "Particularly unpleasant," answered his servant. " Hark at the thunder ! look at tbe lightning ! and don't the rain pelt down ? Oh, we are in for it. Don't you notice, sir.'" * We must be near the river," observed his master ; " could we but reach the ferry, 'tis but a short league to the Chateau Friberg." "Ob, sir," said Karl, "then most heartily do I wish that we were there, and I seated in the old arm-chair in the servants' ball, talking of — Holloa !" " What now ?" interrogated the count, The thunder roared more awfully than before, another sinister expression passed over the features of Grindofr, and be muttered some words to himself that were perfectly unintelligible.

" She will be here anon," remarked Kelmar. " Will she ?" said the miller, taking up a cup of the beverage which was standing besore them. "Come, here's a health, my friend, — here's C audice !" "Claudine !" repeated the old min, drinking. "Heaven bless ber !" "A_, Kelmar!" observed Grindoff, impatiently. "would I could once call you father." " Why, sir," replied Karl, " I felt a ' " You may do so soon," returned the spot of rain at tbat moment on my nose former; "but even your protection as big as a bullet. There, there, it's would now, I fear, be insufficient coming on faster than ever, and we are to— " already like drowned rats. Seek some " Whst mean you?" inquired the shelter, sir, some hollow tree, whilst I, miller, starting, and louking anxious and for my sins, endeavour once more to find amazed. — " Insufficient 1" the way, and endure another currycomb- "The robbers, this evening, in the g among these cursed brambles.

Come, forest ■" HEN. 8 lowed by a loud knocking at the cottage door. " 0,.en the door," commanded Kel mar. "Ah!" exclaimed Grindoff, suddenly rising. " Did not Lothair, then, tell you i" n:-keil Kelmar. "Not so," interrupted Grindoff ; "it may be dangerous." "Lothair ?", " Yes ; but* all's well," replied the old man. " See, sbe is here." '"Here?" repeated Grindoff, hastily, and the expression of his countenance underwent a most remarkable change. At that moment Claudine entered the rnorp, and Grindoff endeavoured with difficulty to suppress bis surprise. " Danger Comes in silence and in secret," returned Kelmar ; " my door was never shut against the wretched while I knew prosperity, nor shall it be closed now to my fellows in misfortune. Open the door, Claudine, I say." Claudine obeyed, and Karl entered ] the cottage.

" AVhy, in the name of dark nights ; and tempests, did you not op-n the door j at fiist ?" he deuiauded. " Have you , no charity ?" " lu our hearts, plenty," answered Kelmar, " in our gift but little ; yet all '. we have is yours." " Claudine !" he exclaimed. "Curses on them both !" i! " Both !" repeated Kelmar. " How kist* you there were H-o ?" "'Sdeath !" replied Grindoff, hastily, "you — you said robbers, did you not? Thev never have appeared singly, there fore, I thought you meant two." '• You an right," remarked Kelmar ; " but for Lothair, they had deprived me of my child." " How," said Grindoff, with some degieo of confusion ; " did Lothair — Humph ! he's a courageous youth." " Then I'll share all you have with my '; master, thank you, old gentleman," said ! Karl; " you won't fare the worse for 1 sheltering honest Karl and the Count ; Frederick Friberg."