“I wish to force him to fight,” said the young man.
“That’s it,” said Kennybol; “you are intrusted with important interests, are you not?”
“So I just said.”
The mountaineer approached the young man with an air of great intelligence, and to his utter amazement whispered in his ear: “You come from Count Schumacker, from Griffenfeld, do you not?”
“Good man,” he exclaimed, “how did you know that?”
And, indeed, it was hard for him to guess how a Norwegian mountaineer came to know a secret which he had confided to no one, not even to General Levin.
“I wish you success,” he observed in the same mysterious whisper. “You are a noble young man to labor thus for the oppressed.”
Ordener’s surprise was so great that he could scarcely find words to inquire how the mountaineer had learned the purpose of his journey.
“Silence!” said Kennybol, putting his finger to his lip. “I hope that you may gain all that you desire from the dweller in Walderhog; my arm, like yours, is loyal to the prisoner of Munkholm.”