"If he can be believed—the point is certain," said Ian.
"I see no reason to doubt him, Ian—now when he is on the point of death."
"Death—oh, do not, for the love of Heaven, say that, Herr Captain!" implored Bernhard in an agitated voice. "It is a sad word for a poor fellow to hear."
"A sadder still for a rich one," said Ian.
Held in the strong grasp of two athletic soldiers, he was totally incapable of resistance; and the muskets of the quarter-guard kept him completely in awe. The noose was ready; agony bedewed his pallid face with perspiration. His knees trembled, and he gave me a glance so imploring that my heart failed me. Amidst the confusion of a brawl I might have seen a dozen such fellows shot, and felt no compunction; but to hang up this cowardly and crime-steeped rascal, with his terror verging on despair, was quite another thing; and I began heartily to wish that his life or death had been in the hands of the Herredsfoged of the district, or any other than mine.
"Stay," said Ian; "one feature in this fellow's character is evident. He will do any thing for money."
"If I could serve you, Herr, or you, with my life," implored Bernhard.
"Well—you know yonder castle of Helnœsland?" said Ian.
"As well, Herr Colonel, as if it belonged to me."
"And the Merodeurs?"