“Do you not know Count d’Ahlefeld, who paid you to steal an iron casket from the captain?”
“D’Ahlefeld! Stay; yes, I know him. I drank his son’s blood only yesterday, from my son’s skull.”
Ordener shuddered with horror.
“Were you not content with your wages?”
“What wages?” asked the brigand.
“Hark ye; the sight of you offends me; I must have done. You stole, a week since, an iron casket from one of your victims, a Munkholm officer, did you not?”
At the word “Munkholm” the brigand started.
“An officer from Munkholm?” he muttered. Then he asked, with a look of surprise, “Are you too an officer from Munkholm?”
“No,” said Ordener.