"Most of them—they were my comrades at Vienna."
"In prison, I suppose. Well, if your life is spared, will you undertake to guide me with two hundred musketeers, on a dark night, to that sallyport which faces the north?"
"I will, Herr; but the Merodeurs are a thousand strong! and two hundred musketeers—ouf! they will be but a mouthful in Helnœsland."
"That is not your business—Dioul!"
"I will make a bargain with the Herr Rollo," said Bernhard, gathering courage at this glimpse of life and hope. "Merodé was to pay Bandolo a thousand ducats for the young grafine, Gabrielle of Carlstein, of which I was to receive my share. Merodé deceived us, and, not having the ducats at the time, kept the lady, and troubled himself no more about the matter. I am but a poor fellow; look at my doublet; it has as many holes as there are days in the year. Well, Herr—for four hundred ducats I will bring the young lady to you safe and sound, without the uproar of two hundred musketeers falling into Helnœsland in the night, and not knowing which way to turn. In terror at the noise and din of such a piece of work, the young lady will be sure to conceal herself; and your men might all be shot or taken by the Merodeurs, and nothing achieved after all."
"Besides," said Ian, in a low voice; "I have the king's strict orders to march for Elsineur, without filing a shot."
"Can we trust a man who is beyond the pale of the law?" said I.
"I did not make the law, mein Herr," said Bernhard; "if so, I should not have been outlawed—or called a robber, or so forth; four hundred ducats will be quite a fortune to a poor fellow like me. I will bring you the young lady, and then the money can be paid me down on this table, under that beech-tree. Is it a bargain, Herr Captain, and gentlemen Schottlanders?"
"On my honour it is," said Ian; and Bernhard gave him a glance of thankfulness and joy.
"Four hundred ducats!" said I; "where the devil are we to raise such a sum? The regiment has been without pay for two months past."