"Yes, colonel! Two men, your own horse. Swords and pistols, at eleven, Eastern Gate!"
Blick saluted cheerfully. He wondered what was in the wind, but it was in any case a pastime, and Nigel, though not a spendthrift, always paid well for his services.
When the aide-de-camp returned that evening Nigel said nothing of his visitors, merely that he felt almost well enough to adventure the saddle on the morrow, and should try a short ride. The Jesuit examined his wounds carefully, and said he thought a gentle ride would do him no harm. Nothing more was said upon that score, though they talked freely about the progress of the Swede at Ingolstadt.
"It is a hard fortress to take," said the Jesuit, "and it may well be that the Swede may waste much powder and many good men before its walls and then not take it. Every week he spends before it is a week gained for us!"
"How?" asked Nigel. "We are shut up here!"
"Wallenstein's army grows daily, I hear. It is wonderful the magic of his name. From all places men are hastening."
Nigel expressed great wonder. He was surprised that, at a time when the Emperor was at his wits' end for men, Wallenstein could find them from the ends of the earth. But he also wished the Jesuit to tell him more.
But the Jesuit said nothing of how he had heard the news. Only the shadow of a fear ran across Nigel's heart that news went fro, as well as to, over great distances, through this wonderful chain of the brotherhood that served Father Lamormain. And he wondered whether this kindly, helpful aide-de-camp, who had practically set him on his legs again, would not with an equal kindliness conduct him to the strongest dungeon in the citadel if he received orders. He knew it would be so.
The next morning saw Nigel at the hour named at the east gate, saw his eager charger nuzzling in his shoulder for joy, saw him gather his reins and mount, and, followed by the escort, set out briskly, as a man should, to his trysting-place.