"Look! there rides a man in armour, to all appearance a knight!" The men looked towards the end of the valley, and remarked a helmet and armour shining in the sun, with a horse occasionally visible. The fifer of Hardt jumped up and climbed the oak, whence he could overlook the valley with greater ease. The horseman was too distant from him to be able to recognise his features, but he thought he knew the scarf which he wore, and that it was the person he had been expecting to appear.
"What do you see?" said the men; "is it one riding by chance through the wood, or do you think he comes from the Duke?"
"That's him with the white and blue scarf," said the fifer; "that's his long hair, and his seat on horseback. Oh, precious youth, welcome back to Würtemberg! He observes your advanced post, and rides towards it; only look how the fellows present their lances and spread out their legs!"
"Yes, yes, the lansquenet knows the arts of war; no one dare pass the spot where the commanders are, without knowing his business," said the general.
"Stop! they are calling to him; he speaks to them; they point this way; he comes!" cried the fifer, who came down from the tree with a joyful countenance.
"Diavolo maledetto! bassam terendete! They won't let him ride alone, I hope? Ah! I see one of them has hold of his bridle 1 How? It is really a knight that comes!
"A nobleman as good as any in the empire," answered the fifer; "the friend and favourite of the Duke." Upon hearing this they all stood up, for, though they fancied themselves men of importance and rank, they were aware of their being only lansquenets, and bound to pay proper respect to their superiors. The general seated himself again, with an air of gravity, at the foot of the oak--stroked his beard to make it shine--arranged his hat with the cock's feathers properly--supported his hand on his enormous sword--and in this manner awaited the arrival of the stranger.