It all depended on him. There was nothing I could do. A terrible feeling, that: to see something dreadful happening and to be powerless to help….But as I sat shivering in the darkness and listened to the shouts of pursuit dying away up the road and felt my shoulder and arm begin to throb with pain from where I’d fallen on them, I was conscious of something I’d never known before—and it was so odd that I couldn’t put a name to it, at first. I had to search my memory before I came up with the word that fitted. And that word was vengeance.

Yes, it was very strange. You read about the banditti in Sicily, about their blood feuds and their proud way of avenging their honor, and you think: Well, they’re different, those Southerners, they’re more passionate than we are. We’re a bit stolid here in Switzerland; we don’t carry on like that. But then you remember that William Tell was Swiss, and was there ever a braver, prouder action than when he tucked the second arrow into his belt, to use on the hated tyrant Gessler if he’d missed and killed his son with the first? Maybe we’re not so dull. Maybe we can be passionate too, if we’re stirred. And I was stirred now. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I was going to do something. Count Karlstein was as bad as Gessler—if not worse—and it was time someone told him so. I set off for the castle.

I can’t really remember that walk up the mountain. Hardly surprising, I suppose; I’d done it so many times, I could have walked up there with my eyes shut and not fallen over the edge. All I can recall is a sensation as if I had thunder and lightning inside me. Anger; fury. I was hot and cold and dizzy and tired, and I suppose a little crazy by now. It seemed to take no time at all before I was standing outside the castle gate.

I looked up at the tower first, to see if his study window was illuminated. It wasn’t. Well, if he wasn’t there, I could get there first—and give him a surprise when he did arrive. Very quietly, then, and taking great care to keep in the shadows, I slipped inside the gate and made my way around the edge of the courtyard. One or two of the dogs looked up, and my heart missed a beat, but dogs don’t know if you’ve been dismissed; as far as they were concerned, I still belonged, and when they’d seen who it was, they settled down again.