“My orders are very strict, sir,” he said. “I am to let no one leave without a written order from Prince Peter. If the sergeant or the lieutenant were here they would know what to do; but they are both at the castle—only two other soldiers are at the gates with me. Wait, and I will send one of them for the lieutenant.”
“No,” interposed the American. “You will send for no one, my man. Come closer—look at my face.”
The soldier approached, holding his lantern above his head. As its feeble rays fell upon the face and uniform of the man on horseback, the sentry gave a little gasp of astonishment.
“Now, lower the drawbridge,” said Barney Custer, “it is your king’s command.”
Quickly the fellow hastened to obey the order. The chains creaked and the windlass groaned as the heavy planking sank to place across the moat.
As Barney passed the soldier he handed him the pardon Leopold had written for the American.
“Give this to your lieutenant,” he said, “and tell him to hand it to Prince Peter before dawn tomorrow. Do not fail.”
A moment later the three were riding down the winding road toward Blentz. Barney had no further need of the officer who rode with them. He would be glad to be rid of him, for he anticipated that the fellow might find ample opportunity to betray them as they passed through the Austrian lines, which they must do to reach Lustadt.
He had told the captain that they were going to Tann in order that, should the man find opportunity to institute pursuit, he might be thrown off the track. The Austrian sentries were no great distance ahead when Barney ordered a halt.
“Dismount,” he directed the captain, leaping to the ground himself at the same time. “Put your hands behind your back.”