ons.

"Decidedly, they were not robbers. I have found the horses where I left
them," said the soldier; "and now I have tied them up close by, ready
for us to mount when the hour is up."

"You say they were not robbers, Gero?"

"Well, not ordinary robbers; for if they had been, these gold rings on
your baldric and your horses too, would have disappeared."

"Hasten, my good fellow, and cut these ropes at once; you would leave
me a prisoner forever, it seems!"

"The hour is not quite up yet, Count; be patient a little while longer.
Does the time really appear so wearisome?"

"Even if I would, it is impossible for me to pursue the bandit now. Do
you not perceive how dark it grows?"

"Pray have a little patience, my dear lord. I am dreaming of your
triumph of to-morrow; be assured that I will select the strongest lance
and the best tempered coat-of-mail in your armory."

"You think, then, that he will meet me?"

"Most certainly; he has too proud an air to be a disloyal knight."

"But who is he? It is strange, but it seems as though I had already
heard his voice."

"Do not worry your brain by guessing, Count; you will know his face
soon enough."

"You are right. Never before have I experienced so much curiosity to
see an adversary raise his visor!"

"And now, my lord, allow me to untie you;--how tightly the villains
have drawn these knots!"

"Do you think so? And yet I felt nothing.--Quickly, now, Gero; where
are the horses?"

They mounted and left the wood, as speedily as the obscurity would
permit; but before reaching the camp, Rechberg was obliged to witness a
scene rendered still more horrible by the darkness. He had scarcely
advanced a hundred yards, when his attention was arrested by the
clashing of arms and the shouts of strife. Always curious to recognize
his enemy, he drew up his horse to listen, for he imagined that there
must be some connection between this nocturnal combat and the Unknown,
whose escape he hoped had been prevented by some of the German patrols.
As he advanced as rapidly as prudence and the darkness permitted, the
noise ceased and he perceived, by the light of a dozen torches, a troop
of heavily laden mules, whose drivers, with downcast eyes and manacled
hands, were marching between two files of armed men.

"It is Hesso and his bloodhounds," cried Gero; "I know his gruff
voice!"

"Captain Hesso," said Rechberg, when they had gotten nearer, "I heard
the noise of your skirmish,