I had ridden some ten or eleven miles, and was walking my horse slowly past a small coppice, when I heard him call to me from among the trees. He had chosen a cunning hiding-place. He knew his business.
"Ride on to the next turning on this side, Prince, and turn in at the first gate."
I followed his instructions, and found him already at the gate, on foot, having tied his horse to a tree. I fastened mine and then joined him.
"Were you followed from my house last night?" he asked; and when I told him no, he added: "Good; I had to shake them off this morning. The game is getting warmer. We must not stay long together. What have you to say to me?"
"Will you show me the paper you made von Nauheim sign?" I asked.
"I will take your word of honor for its safe keeping," he returned, his dark face smiling. "I guessed you would wish to see it." And he handed it to me.
"You trust it to me?" I cried, in some surprise.
"I am no fool, Prince," he answered. "If you keep that, it means we shall work together, and that is what I wish. If we are not to do so, you are too honorable a man not to return it. I trust either wholly, or not at all." He raised his hands, shoulders, and eyebrows in a combined gesture, as though suggesting there was no more to be said about the matter. "But you, what are you going to do? You have some plan, of course?"
"Will you work with me?" I asked.
"I told you last night—my purse, my sword, and my life are at your service, and if your plan helps my revenge I will keep as stanch and true as a hound."