"What is that shimmering in the bushes?" inquired Simplex anxiously.
"The eyes of a lynx," growled the guide; "he is on the lookout for young chamois."
But a lynx has two eyes, and there was only a single bright point shimmering there. It was the lunt of a musket, which someone was hiding beneath his mantle to prevent it from going out.
"Halt!" cried a voice from the bushes, and at a distance of only ten paces a wild shape sprang up, resting its heavy firearm on an iron fork fastened in the ground. The robber did not aim at the two rustically clad shapes who were carrying the litter, but at the gentleman who was following a considerable distance behind.
"Jesus, Maria!" cried Michal, "he is shooting at my husband!"
"Don't shoot at him, Hanack!" cried Stevey to the robber, "don't you see that he's a clergyman?"
The challenge was of use, the freebooter lowered his lunt. Possibly, too, he was somewhat taken back at finding himself face to face with three men, one of whom was armed with an ax and another with a hanger; besides, he was not quite certain whether his powder was wet or dry. He therefore used clemency and answered amicably:
"Oh! 'tis you, Stevey, eh? Whom are you leading?"
"A clergyman and his wife."
"Then it is a Lutheran! A lucky thing for him! Had he been a Papist, I should have chucked him down that hole. But when you get to where Hamis is keeping watch, tell him that you are guiding a Romish priest and his sister, for he is ready to flay a Lutheran alive."