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THE RED AXE
By S.R. Crockett
1900
CONTENTS
I. DUKE CASIMIR RIDES LATE II. THE LITTLE PLAYMATE COMES HOME III. THE RED AXE OF THE WOLFMARK IV. THE PRINCESS HELENE V. THE BLOOD-HOUNDS ARE FED VI. DUKE CASIMIR'S FAMILIAR VII. I BECOME A TRAITOR VIII. AT THE BAR OF THE WHITE WOLF IX. A HERO CARRIES WATER IN THE SUN X. THE LUBBER FIEND XI. THE VISION IN THE CRYSTAL XII. EYES OF EMERALD XIII. CHRISTIAN'S ELSA XIV. SIR AMOROUS IS PLEASED WITH HIMSELF XV. THE LITTLE PLAYMATE SETTLES ACCOUNTS XVI. TWO WOMEN—AND A MAN XVII. THE RED AXE IS LEFT ALONE XVIII. THE PRIME OF THE MORNING XIX. WENDISH WIT XX. THE EARTH-DWELLERS OF NO MAN'S LAND XXI. I STAND SENTRY XXII. HELENE HATES ME XXIII. HUGO OF THE BROADAXE XXIV. THE SORTIE XXV. MINE HOST RUNS HIS LAST RACE XXVI. PRINCE JEHU MILLER'S SON XXVII. ANOTHER MAN'S COAT XXVIII. THE PRINCE'S COMPACT XXIX. LOVES ME—LOVES ME NOT XXX. INSULT AND CHALLENGE XXXI. I FIND A SECOND XXXII. THE WOLVES OF THE MARK XXXIII. THE FLIGHT OF THE LITTLE PLAYMATE XXXIV. THE GOLDEN NECKLACE XXXV. THE DECENT SERVITOR XXXVI. YSOLINDE'S FAREWELL XXXVII. CAPTAIN KARL MILLER'S SONXXXVIII. THE BLACK RIDERS XXXIX. THE FLAG ON THE RED TOWER XL. THE TRIAL OF THE WITCH XLI. THE GARRET OF THE RED TOWER XLII. PRINCESS PLAYMATE XLIII. THE TRIAL FOR WITCHCRAFT XLIV. SENTENCE OF DEATH XLV. THE MESSAGE FROM THE WHITE GATE XLVI. A WOMAN SCORNED XLVII. THE RED AXE DIES STANDING UP XLVIII. HUGO GOTTFRIED, RED AXE OF THE WOLFMARK XLIX. THE SERPENT'S STRIFE L. THE DUNGEON OF THE WOLFSBERG LI. THE NIGHT BEFORE THE MORN LII. THE HEADSMAN'S RIGHT LIII. THE LUBBER FIEND'S RETURN LIV. THE CROWNING OF DUKE OTHO LV. THE LADY YSOLINDE SAVES HER SOUL LVI. HELENA, PRINCESS OF PLASSENBURG
THE RED AXE
CHAPTER I
DUKE CASIMIR RIDES LATE
Well do I, Hugo Gottfried, remember the night of snow and moonlight whenfirst they brought the Little Playmate home. I had been sleeping—asturdy, well-grown fellow I, ten years or so as to my age—in a stomacherof blanket and a bed-gown my mother had made me before she died at thebeginning of the cold weather. Suddenly something awoke me out of mysleep. So, all in the sharp chill of the night, I got out of my bed,sitting on the edge with my legs dangling, and looked curiously at thebright streams of moonlight which crossed the wooden floor of my garret.I thought if only I could swim straight up one of them, as the motes didin the sunshine, I should be sure to come in time to the place where mymother was—the place where all the pretty white things came from—thesunshine, the moonshine, the starshine, and the snow.
And there would be children to play with up there—hundreds of childrenlike myself, and all close at hand. I should not any longer have to situp aloft in the Red Tower with none to speak to me—all alone on the topof a wall—just because I had a crimson patch sewn on my blue-cordedblouse, on my little white shirt, embroidered in red wool on each of mywarm winter wristlets, and staring out from the front of both mystockings. It was a pretty enough pattern, too. Yet whenever one of thechildren I so much longed to p