'Is he in the field, too?'

'You must understand that old Father Richelieu has just concluded a notable treaty with the Duke of Weimar, who has bound himself to maintain eighteen thousand Germans for the service of France, in return for which the Cardinal, with the greatest liberality, has made him a free and perpetual gift of our province of Alsace, which was ceded to us by the treaty of Verdun, and which, though taken from us by the Empire and given to the Bishop of Strasbourg and its boy-duke, we still deem ours. The inhabitants of Zaberne, our principal city and fortress there, have naturally conceived some objections to this transference of our rights: thus they are all in arms, and the walls are obstinately defended by Colonel Mulheim against some thirty thousand French, Scots, and Germans; but unless Count Gallas, who is on the march to relieve it and to form a junction with our troops now here in Nanci, crosses the Rhine within a week, I fear it must fall; for our couriers say that Count John of Hanau has been slain; that the walls were breached on the 9th of June, and that Hepburn's Scots were clamouring to be led to the assault. This is now the 14th of June, and by this time perhaps they have planted the standard of the Louises above the grave of the gallant Mulheim; for our noble Lorrainer vowed that Zaberne should be his tomb before it yielded to a foe.'

'By what route should I proceed there?'

'Any route that will secure you from the snares and hostility of Pappenheim, in whose eye, when he left us, I read so deadly an expression.'

'Prince,' said I, passionately, as anger and jealousy fired me, 'I will fight him hand to hand, on foot or horseback, with sword and pistol, in the public market-place of Nanci, if you urge this on me more.'

'Fight him—my sister's affianced husband, the love of your friend, the little Nicola of your romantic journey? Peste! Comrade, you must not think of that, but rather study how to avoid him. Two roads lead from this to Zaberne,' he added, taking down from the wall one of those maps of Lorraine and the Rhine engraved by Ferrari, the then celebrated author of an epitome of geography. 'I would have you to leave Nanci to-night, quietly and alone, after dusk, and I will see that you are well armed and fleetly mounted.'

'And the distance to Zaberne is—'

'About twenty French leagues.'

'Thanks, M. le Prince.'

'You have still four hours left to dine with me and prepare for your journey; but do me the favour to remain in your own apartments till I come for you, as Nanci is full of men, who, like De Bitche, are infuriated against the soldiers of Louis XIII. I go to parade my regiment in the great square, but in two hours will return—till then, adieu!'