If it were not for our desire to remain
incognito, we might presently collect a retinue and travel with herald
and banner. But at the end of all was sweet Mary of Burgundy waiting to
be carried off by Maximilian, Count of Hapsburg.
Just what the boy expected to do in Burgundy, I did not know. For the
lady's wealth I believe he did not care a straw--he wanted herself. He
hoped that Charles, for his own peace, would not be too uncivil and
would not force a desperate person to take extreme measures; but should
this rash duke be blind to his own interests--well, let him beware! Some
one _might_ carry off his daughter right from under the ducal nose. Then
let the Burgundian follow at his peril. Castle Hapsburg would open his
eyes. He would learn what an impregnable castle really is. If Duke
Charles thought he could bring his soft-footed Walloons, used only to
the mud roads of Burgundy, up the stony path to the hawk's crag, why,
let him try! Harmless boasting is a boy's vent. Max did not really mean
to boast, he was only wishing; and to a flushed, enthusiastic soul, the
wish of to-day is apt to look like the fact of to-morrow.
We hoped to find a caravan ready to leave Linz, but we were
disappointed, so we journeyed by the Danube to the mouth of the Inn, up
which we went to Muhldorf. There we found a small caravan bound for
Munich on the Iser. From Munich we travelled with a caravan to Augsburg,
and thence to Ulm, where we were overjoyed to meet once more our old
friend, the Danube.
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