looked at the fencing-master in amazement and asked: "Could
you really believe that, Captain?"

"Why not," replied the other. "Nothing is impossible to the Highest. At
first I laughed in the man's face, but his words followed me; and when I
read the old stories--I needn't strain my eyes much, for at every line I
know beforehand what the next will be--I couldn't help asking myself--In
short, sir, my soul probably once inhabited Roland's body, and that's why
I call him my 'fore man.' In the course of years, it has become a habit
to swear by him. Folly, you will think, but I know what I know, and now I
must go. We will have another talk this evening, but about other matters.
Yes, everybody in this world is a little crackbrained, but at least I
don't bore other people. I only show my craze to intimate friends, and
strangers who ask me once about the fore man Roland rarely do so a second
time. The score, bar-maid--There it is again. We must see whether the
towers are properly garrisoned, and charge the sentinels to keep their
eyes open. If you come prepared for battle, you may save yourself a walk,
I'll answer for nothing to-day. You will probably pass the new Rhine.
Just step into my house, and tell my wife she needn't wait supper for me.
Or, no, I'll attend to that myself; there's something in the air, you'll
see it, for I have the Roncesvalles throat again."

CHAPTER XVII.

In the big watch-house that had been erected beside the citadel, during
the siege of the city, raised ten months before, city-guards and
volunteers sat together in groups after sunset, talking over their beer
or passing the time in playing cards by the feeble light of thin tallow
candles.

The embrasure where the officers' table stood was somewhat better
lighted. Wilhelm, who, according to his friend's advice, appeared in the
uniform of an ensign of the city-guards, seated himself at the empty
board just after the clock in the steeple had struck ten. While ordering
the waiter to bring him a mug of beer, Captain Allertssohn appeared with
Junker von Warmond, who had taken part in the consultation at Peter Van
der Werff's, and bravely earned his captain's sash two years before at
the capture of Brill. As this son of one of the richest and most
aristocratic families in Holland, a youth whose mother had borne the name
of Egmont, entered, he drew his hand, encased in a fencing glove, from
the captain's arm and said, countermanding the musician's or