plement, for he had been meditating this
coup for some days), he proceeded first to attempt to burst the lock of
the little iron chest in which the Count kept his treasure, and, failing
in this, to unscrew it from the ground; which operation he performed
satisfactorily.

"You see, Count," said he, calmly, "when rogues fall out there's the
deuce to pay. You'll have me drummed out of the regiment, will you?
I'm going to leave it of my own accord, look you, and to live like a
gentleman for the rest of my days. Schlafen Sie wohl, noble Captain: bon
repos. The Squire will be with you pretty early in the morning, to ask
for the money you owe him."

With these sarcastic observations Mr. Brock departed; not by the window,
as Mrs. Catherine had done, but by the door, quietly, and so into
the street. And when, the next morning, the doctor came to visit his
patient, he brought with him a story how, at the dead of night, Mr.
Brock had roused the ostler at the stables where the Captain's horses
were kept--had told him that Mrs. Catherine had poisoned the Count, and
had run off with a thousand pounds; and how he and all lovers of justice
ought to scour the country in pursuit of the criminal. For this end Mr.
Brock mounted the Count's best horse--that very animal on which he
had carried away Mrs. Catherine: and thus, on a single night, Count
Maximilian had lost his mistress, his money, his horse, his corporal,
and was very near losing his life.

CHAPTER IV. IN WHICH MRS. CATHERINE BECOMES AN HONEST WOMAN AGAIN.

In this woeful plight, moneyless, wifeless, horseless, corporalless,
with a gag in his mouth and a rope round his body, are we compelled to
leave the gallant Galgenstein, until his friends and the progress of
this history shall deliver him from his durance. Mr. Brock's adventures
on the Captain's horse must likewise be pretermitted; for it is our
business to follow Mrs. Catherine through the window by which she made
her escape, and among the various chances that befell her.

She had one cause to congratulate herself,--that she had not her baby at
her back; for the infant was safely housed under the care of a nurse,
to whom the Captain was answerable. Beyond this her prospects were but
dismal: no home to fly to, but a few shillings in her pocket, and a
whole heap of injuries and dark revengeful thoughts in her bosom: it was
a sad task to her to look either backwards or forwards. Whither was she
to fly? How to live? W