"Good! Captain Charteris here will escort you and your party as far as Erfurt. After that you must make your own plans!"
The Lady Ottilie von Thüringen did not look overjoyed at the news. She stole a glance at the captain, who on his side evinced no rejoicing, and then at the general. One might have supposed that she suspected some design on the part of the elder man.
"It is the utmost I can hope for, I suppose," she said grudgingly.
"Women should stay at home!" said the Count. "Especially girls of your age and condition," he added, waving his hand in token of dismissal.
The lady's lips curled as she bowed and withdrew. It was plain she was accustomed to having her own way, and not accustomed to being rebuked by generals, however eminent.
"My young friend," the Count went on to Nigel, "you will have a curious convoy as far as Erfurt. When you leave them at Erfurt, see that some trustworthy men are to accompany them. I seldom forget faces, and more rarely voices. Be careful. Look closely after her. Find out what you can! Don't make love to her! It is of no importance to you what I think. I may be misled by a resemblance. It is a thousand chances that I am. But for you, the less you know at the outset the better for you. It is a great protection sometimes not to know anything. Here is an order for a lieutenant and twenty troopers. Take any travelling carriage and four horses you can lay hands on. And stay, here are a hundred gold crowns for your expenses. On leaving Erfurt you will go as fast as possible to Vienna, after which, God be with you till we meet again!"
Nigel pocketed the crowns and the blessing with a good grace, thanked Count Tilly, and saluted. It was not often that an officer found such favour with the dry old general.
He was too busy during the next hour with his preparations to trouble his head with the speculations of Count Tilly as to the identity of "dark Ottilie," as he called her to himself. In point of fact he was rather disappointed to be called upon to act as escort even as far as Erfurt. He would so much more willingly have ridden by the shortest road to Vienna, where his ambition was already, if we may speak of a man's desire outstripping his body by three days or so.
For his secret heart sang "Wallenstein," and not "Ottilie" dark or fair. Yet Wallenstein, for the little that Nigel Charteris had seen of him, or knew of him through others, was not a man to be beloved of men. He had been twice married, which might prove that he was beloved of women, or not, according to the side the pleader took. Nigel could recall without difficulty the long narrow face with the large ears set close back against the head, the high deeply-furrowed brow, the thoughtful scrutinising eyes from which all laughter was absent, the plain linen collar turned flatly down over his cuirass, the little tuft on his chin, the look of solid power about the face as a whole, a face dominated by resolution rather than pride.