"Sae yer Coont Tilly has warstled through into Magdeburg, Meester Charteris?"
"Aye, has he!" said Nigel, watching the cold glint of the little eyes beneath the heavy brows.
"And ye'll be carrying the despatches to the Emperor!"
"Yes!"
"Hooch aye!" The commandant rubbed a bristly chin, and watched Nigel's face. "Did ye have a peaceful journey?"
"Not exactly! I had trouble to get out of Plauen, and I think you should send Commandant von Hohendorf a couple of companies. The townsfolk are out of hand."
"Ah! ha!" said the other. "Tis the working of God's wrath at the sinful deeds at Magdeburg!"
If David Gordon had been weighing out spices in a little shop in the Canongate, the speech would have had its right surroundings. As it was, issuing from the mouth of one of the Emperor's officers, it sounded out of place.
"Master Gordon! That's a queer speech!" said Nigel. "Count Tilly's been carrying out the Edict."