"Here," exclaimed an old brigand, "let us drink to Mathias."
"And his speedy return," added another.
"Aye, aye, his speedy release."
Horn goblets were handed round and filled with ruddy wine from a skin, which the old brigand himself produced from his own mysterious larder.
"To Mathias!"
"To Mathias!"
A ringing cheer was heard, and the goblets were drained to the very dregs.
* * * * *
"Who goes there?"
"A friend."