* I know not whether the forest referred to by our cavalier is still extant. It was so in 1702. See "Travels in the retinue of the English Envoy, 1702"—printed at the Ship in St. Paul's churchyard, 1707.
"Now, sir," said the impatient Ernestine, "what a scrape you have brought me into! Separated from my sister, who cannot have come this way, else we should have found her in this labyrinth; and separated also from my dear father, who may die before I reach Fredricksort, and while we are fruitlessly wandering in this provoking wood; besides, there may be wild animals or robbers in it, and you are, of course, without arms."
"Heaven forbid, lady, I should ever trust to other weapons than those of the spirit. Maldicion—Maldicion de Dios!" he growled between his teeth; "if once I have her safe in the cottage of old Dame Krümpel, I will make her pay dearly for all the trouble her pride has cost me, and for having my face scratched in this rascally thicket."
"What did you say, Herr Doctor?"
"Only a prayer, that we may not meet with any robbers or wild animals, as you said—ha—ha!"
"Or broken soldiers."
"Or with Bandolo," he added.
"Count Tilly's spy?" said Ernestine; "'tis rumoured that he knows every foot of ground in Denmark, so I wish that we could meet with him; though he is a guilty wretch of whom even the Merodeurs speak with contempt and horror."
Bandolo uttered a low, ferocious laugh. Ruffian as he was, and callous to every sentiment of humanity, her words stung him to the soul; for there was something inexpressibly cutting in this hearty and undisguised contempt, as expressed by a beautiful woman. He writhed under it, and a savage glow of mingled triumph and revenge spread through his breast, as he exultingly contemplated the terror, the catastrophe, and the downfall that were awaiting her. His eagerness sharpened his faculties.
"I see a light—a spark—to our left. This way, lady," said he, seizing the bridle of her horse, and conducting her down a narrow track, where the pine trunks grew so close that there was scarcely room for steed and rider to pass between them; but in a few minutes they reached a small and rudely built cottage, which stood by the margin of a little tarn. It was the place where Bernhard was to rejoin Bandolo, and pay over the price of poor Gabrielle.