Tycho. "I promised that he should be well rewarded for his good will,
and am here for that purpose."

The warder looked longingly at the array of stout casks, and hastened
with the message to Adalbert, who, doubtless deeming that the gods were
raining wine, for his one cup to be so amply returned, gave orders that
the strangers should be admitted. Accordingly the gates were opened, and
the wine-bearers and knights filed in.

Reaching the castle hall, the casks were placed on the floor before
Adalbert and his chief followers, Tycho begging him to accept them as a
present in return for his former kindness. As to receive something for
nothing was Adalbert's usual mode of life, he did not hesitate to accept
the lordly present, and Tycho ordered the carriers to remove the
coverings. In a very few seconds this was done, when out sprang the
armed men, the porters seized their swords from the casks, and in a
minute's time the surprised bandits found themselves sharply attacked.
The stratagem proved a complete success. Adalbert and his men fell
victims to their credulity, and the fortress was razed to the ground.

The truth of this story we cannot vouch for. It bears too suspicious a
resemblance to the Arabian tale to be lightly accepted as fact. But its
antiquity is unquestionable, and it may be offered as a faithful picture
of the conditions of those centuries of anarchy when every man's hand
was for himself and might was right.




_FREDERICK BARBAROSSA AND MILAN._