Many were the glances of hate at the troopers, and of wonder at Elspeth Reinheit, who was known to many as the "pastor's niece." As for the young pastor, the fugitives bowed or curtsied to him, and pitied him because they supposed him a prisoner; whereas they themselves possessed a precarious freedom, won out of the press of death that had confronted them in so many forms on the grisly days of the sack.
The pastor, buried in his indignation, and in his thoughts of stirring themes for congregations not yet assembled, sometimes acknowledged their salutations, sometimes missed seeing them. One question in the intervals of his professional wrath came into his mind every now and again, and he was indignant at the intrusion. It was this: What had happened that Elspeth should have had any dealings with Tilly's captain? He had seen how her eyes had sought the captain's, the eyes of an accursed Catholic, accursed in that his hands were imbrued, actually or vicariously, in the bloody wine-presses of the wrath of man, still more accursed that he had done what he had in furtherance of the policy of Rome. And Elspeth Reinheit, though not formally betrothed to him, Pastor Rad, was looked upon as his by others than himself or herself. How was it possible that the soldier and she could have met, and he the pastor and lover not know it? How could there be a look of understanding or of gentle inquiry pass from her to him to his own exclusion? It filled him with vague uneasiness. It hurt his pride of possession. It raised suspicion of her integrity.
No doubt Pastor Rad would have been still more surprised had he known that the highly-born sympathiser--he was not sure enough of her spiritual leanings to call her adherent,--Ottilie of Thüringen, was at this moment questioning Elspeth on that very matter.
"Dearest Elspeth, you have met yonder captain before yesterday? I am sure of it." She nodded towards his back as he trotted forward to the head of his men after the little conversation.
"That is true!" said Elspeth. "There is no need to keep it secret from you, though I dare not tell Melchior Rad. He would never understand."
"As to that," said her companion, "I cannot advise you. You know the pastor. But your eyes have a most eloquent speech of their own, and are not easily veiled, and, when he and I carried you to your chamber, your eyes sought the captain's, and I could have sworn your pastor marked it."