It took two of them to loosen poor old Ursela's crazy clutch
from about her young master. Then amid roars of laughter they
dragged her away, screaming and scratching and striking with her
fists.

They drew back Otto's arms behind his back and wrapped them
round and round with a bowstring. Then they pushed and hustled
and thrust him forth from the room and along the passageway, now
bright with the flames that roared and crackled without. Down
the steep stairway they drove him, where thrice he stumbled and
fell amid roars of laughter. At last they were out into the open
air of the court-yard. Here was a terrible sight, but Otto saw
nothing of it; his blue eyes were gazing far away, and his lips
moved softly with the prayer that the good monks of St.
Michaelsburg had taught him, for he thought that they meant to
slay him.

All around the court-yard the flames roared and snapped and
crackled. Four or five figures lay scattered here and there,
silent in all the glare and uproar. The heat was so intense that
they were soon forced back into the shelter of the great
gateway, where the women captives, under the guard of three or
four of the Trutz-Drachen men, were crowded together in dumb,
bewildered terror. Only one man was to be seen among the
captives, poor, old, half blind Master Rudolph, the steward, who
crouched tremblingly among the women. They had set the blaze to
Melchior's tower, and now, below, it was a seething furnace.
Above, the smoke rolled in black clouds from the windows, but
still the alarm bell sounded through all the blaze and smoke.
Higher and higher the flames rose; a trickle of fire ran along