"My sister Gabrielle!"
"Ah, Herr Kombeek!—I knew it was the Herr Kombeek," cried Gabrielle, almost riding me over, as she pushed her horse towards me; "ah, speak to me—I have not had one good laugh since you left us. How merry we used to be!"
"You are safe among us, ladies," said I, kissing the little hand of the childlike Gabrielle; "for we have no regiments of Croats or Merodeurs under the banner of Christian IV."
"His soldiers have indeed the reputation of being good and gentle, as they are valiant and strong," replied the haughty Ernestine; "but we are now prisoners, and at the mercy of these uncourteous pistoliers——"
"Mention my name to any one who would insult you; and believe me, madame, it will be a sufficient protection in the Danish camp."
"Oh yes!" said Gabrielle, bustling up in her saddle, "I will just say our friend is Herr Kombeek—or M'Combeek, is it?"
"The Highlanders call me M'Combich, because I am the friend of their chief; but my proper name——"
Here the baron uttered an impatient cough.
"Klosterfiord," said I; "you will protect these ladies, and see them conveyed to a place of safety."
"Undoubtedly—I have commanded a baggage guard before this."