“I might be excused for doubting your promptness, Baron.”
“Festina lente. But I am not insensible of the criticalness of the Princess’s position. An armed detachment is already under orders, and I myself start for the Schloss Teufelswald within the hour.”
“You, Baron?” Ludovic started in surprise.
“Even I,” Rollmar answered quietly. “This precious Count Irromar, whom you have stumbled upon, is well known to me, at least by reputation, and is no ordinary man. He unites in himself, as your Highness may have discovered, the cunning of the serpent with the ferocity of the wolf. Our troops may oppose the latter quality; it is to meet the former that I propose to myself a disagreeable journey.”
“Then,” said Ludovic, “we travel together.”
“So far,” Rollmar replied, a little stiffly, “as the road to Beroldstein is the way to Schloss Teufelswald.”
Ludovic paused in his quick stride towards the door, and stared at him. “Naturally, Baron, I go with you to the Schloss Teufelswald.”
Rollmar pursed his lips, as he remained standing by the fireplace. “I would advise you, sire, to let the settlement of your position at Beroldstein be your first care.”
“You would, Baron?”
“Unless, that is, you are inclined, as is hardly likely, to a man of your spirit, to let things be as they are.”