CHAPTER XXX.

BERNHARD'S OFFER.

When I reflected by what a narrow chance Ernestine had escaped a terrible assassination; when I thought of what my emotions, and the emotions of all, would have been, had we found her in the morning----but the idea was horror! I turned the buckle of my belt behind me, and after assuring Ernestine that she was neither killed nor wounded, but only frightened, took my sword in my hand, and ordered M'Gillvray to bring the prisoner to the _Green-Tree_, before the door of the inn, where, as morning was now advanced, the waitresses were preparing breakfast for the officers.

The personal appearance of Master Bernhard was in no way improved by the tap I had given him on the head; for a quantity of blood that flowed from the wound had clotted his shock-head of hair, and streaked the hard lines of his coarse and repulsive visage, like the war paint of an Indian.

"Well, _schelm_," said I; "what have you to urge, that I should not hang you on the branch overhead as an ornament to our goodman's sign?"

"That we should never take away what we cannot give back," growled Bernhard.

"We are old acquaintances now," said I; "you remember the hut at Korslack, and the night with the Merodeurs? Have you always acted upon the principle of never taking away that which you cannot restore?"

"Herr Captain, I have tried to do so," he replied; looking anxiously at me, and anon at one of the ostlers, who was quietly knotting a running noose over one of the branches of the tree under which I was seated. "If I take a man's purse I can return it--but his life--oh, Herr Captain!"

"Have you never taken a man's life, Master Bernhard?"

"Have you or your soldiers never taken one, Herr Captain?"

"You are an impudent rascal!" said I, losing patience.

"Perhaps I am," said he; "yet I may be of more service to you than you imagine."

"You are the man who assisted Bandolo to decoy the daughters of the Count of Carlstein from Nyekiöbing, and betrayed one to the Count of Merodé."

"Betray is a harsh word, Herr Schottlander. I am but a poor fellow who, for a rixdollar, will serve any one. I was Merodé's valet at Vienna; he accused me of liking his laced doublets better than his livery, so we parted in dudgeon; but the real secret was, that he discovered his mistress bestowing on me, for nothing, all those blandishments which cost _him_ a thousand doubloons in the year. She was sent to the galleys; I turned woodman, and picked up a ducat or a florin now and then in various ways. Bandolo was acting the gentleman, and required a valet to carry his mails. I sailed with him to many places, where he was picking up information for the Count Tilly, who always pays for it like a prince. Bandolo brought two ladies with him from Falster; 'twas no business of mine--he has often ladies with him. I attended one--he the other, and so we parted company in the dark near Eckernfiörd; with the youngest, I fell among the Merodeurs, who cheated me of a thousand ducats, which I was to bring Bandolo from the count. I have usually been the scoutmaster's ass, or scapegoat, but I will be so no longer, and will gladly become valet or groom to any Schottish officer who will pay me."

"Thank you, Master Bernhard," said I, ironically; "well, ostler, is that rope ready?"

"I am making all the haste I can, Herr Captain."

"Do not hurry yourself, my good man, I beseech you," said Bernhard, giving a snake-like glance at the ostler.

"And this lady," said I.

"What lady, Herr?"

"Zounds! the lady with whom you fell among the Merodeurs."

"She is now in Helnœsland."

"In the castle?"

"With Count Merodé."

"Confound that dogged front of thine!" said I, grinding my teeth with anger, on thinking of all the mischief this villain had aided and abetted. "You hear, gentlemen," I added, "he says that Lady Gabrielle is in Helnœsland with Merodé."

"If he can be believed--the point is certain," said Ian.

"I see no reason to doubt him, Ian--now when he is on the point of death."

"Death--oh, do not, for the love of Heaven, say that, Herr Captain!" implored Bernhard in an agitated voice. "It is a sad word for a poor fellow to hear."

"A sadder still for a rich one," said Ian.

Held in the strong grasp of two athletic soldiers, he was totally incapable of resistance; and the muskets of the quarter-guard kept him completely in awe. The noose was ready; agony bedewed his pallid face with perspiration. His knees trembled, and he gave me a glance so imploring that my heart failed me. Amidst the confusion of a brawl I might have seen a dozen such fellows shot, and felt no compunction; but to hang up this cowardly and crime-steeped rascal, with his terror verging on despair, was quite another thing; and I began heartily to wish that his life or death had been in the hands of the Herredsfoged of the district, or any other than mine.

"Stay," said Ian; "one feature in this fellow's character is evident. He will do any thing for money."

"If I could serve you, Herr, or you, with my life," implored Bernhard.

"Well--you know yonder castle of Helnœsland?" said Ian.

"As well, Herr Colonel, as if it belonged to me."

"And the Merodeurs?"

"Most of them--they were my comrades at Vienna."

"In prison, I suppose. Well, if your life is spared, will you undertake to guide me with two hundred musketeers, on a dark night, to that sallyport which faces the north?"

"I will, Herr; but the Merodeurs are a thousand strong! and two hundred musketeers--ouf! they will be but a mouthful in Helnœsland."

"That is not your business--Dioul!"

"I will make a bargain with the Herr Rollo," said Bernhard, gathering courage at this glimpse of life and hope. "Merodé was to pay Bandolo a thousand ducats for the young grafine, Gabrielle of Carlstein, of which I was to receive my share. Merodé deceived us, and, not having the ducats at the time, kept the lady, and troubled himself no more about the matter. I am but a poor fellow; look at my doublet; it has as many holes as there are days in the year. Well, Herr--for four hundred ducats I will bring the young lady to you safe and sound, without the uproar of two hundred musketeers falling into Helnœsland in the night, and not knowing which way to turn. In terror at the noise and din of such a piece of work, the young lady will be sure to conceal herself; and your men might all be shot or taken by the Merodeurs, and nothing achieved after all."

"Besides," said Ian, in a low voice; "I have the king's strict orders to march for Elsineur, without filing a shot."

"Can we trust a man who is beyond the pale of the law?" said I.

"I did not make the law, mein Herr," said Bernhard; "if so, I should not have been outlawed--or called a robber, or so forth; four hundred ducats will be quite a fortune to a poor fellow like me. I will bring you the young lady, and _then_ the money can be paid me down on this table, under that beech-tree. Is it a bargain, Herr Captain, and gentlemen Schottlanders?"

"On my honour it is," said Ian; and Bernhard gave him a glance of thankfulness and joy.

"Four hundred ducats!" said I; "where the devil are we to raise such a sum? The regiment has been without pay for two months past."

"Assemble the officers by beat of drum," said Ian.

The drum was beaten, and in five minutes they were all assembled under the _Green-Tree_, thirty Highlanders, all stately men as ever drew a sword; and to them Ian, the lieutenant-colonel, related our dilemma.

Every man of them opened the mouth of his sporran.

"Hold your steel-bonnet, kinsman," said Ian to the sergeant, Mhor.

Phadrig held his helmet inverted, and every officer threw in what he could spare; some who had not even a brass bodle, cut the silver or gold buttons from their coats, or twisted off some links from those gold chains which our Scottish officers usually wore during the Thirty Years' war, I broke off ten from mine; Major Fritz gave twenty florins; and Bernhard's eyes glistened with joy, as the coin of every kind and value--silver, brass, and copper, buttons, chains, and rings--rattled into the helmet, where a sum amounting to more than eight hundred ducats was collected.

"This is a pretty sum to give such a rascal!" said M'Alpine, who had just twisted the gold tassels from his sporran.

"It is rewarding treachery and crime," said another: "think of how many brave fellows peril their lives in the field for a stiver per hour."

"By the head of Alpine! I would rather fight Merodé than pay it," said M'Alpine.

"But the king's orders," said our lieutenant-colonel.

"Ah, true! I had forgotten."

"Fellow," said I to Bernhard; "if you deceive me, tremble! for you have just one more in this world to outwit."

"Who, mein Herr--Bandolo?"

"The devil!"

"What a character you give yourself, cousin Philip," said Ian, and all our officers laughed as they sat down to breakfast; "but to business. Get this fellow despatched on his errand; and, until he returns to redeem his word, Phadrig, thou shalt keep the contributions. Away with him and them, too! Let us to breakfast, for I am like a famished wolf."

It was arranged that about nightfall sixty soldiers should march to a lonely place about five miles from Helnœsland, for the purpose of meeting Gabrielle, and escorting her with her guide to Hesinge. The latter was immediately despatched with a note, written by Ernestine, acquainting her with our vicinity (but of that she was already partly aware), and the necessity of trusting implicitly to the bearer; who, though he had deceived them once, would not do so again.

"For mercy's sake, gentlemen!" said Bernhard before departing; "keep our compact a secret, lest Count Tilly's scout, Bandolo, who seems to be every where at once, may discover and frustrate the whole. He hears every thing, I believe, like Grön Jette, or the wild huntsman."

Bernhard placed the letter in one of the many pockets of his tattered doublet, and set out on his mission. It was not without many conflicting thoughts and arguments that we agreed to intrust Gabrielle to this man, who was doubtless the perpetrator of many frightful crimes; but necessity owns no law, and none but a well-known vagabond could have found easy ingress, or egress, by the gates and guards of the illustrious Count of Merodé.

Now, as these volumes are not a romance, and there is not the least necessity for keeping my readers behind a curtain, I may as well relate, that, as the great father of all mischief would have it, Bandolo, on escaping from the inn-yard, had taken shelter in the very branches of that magnificent beech, under which the compact with Bernhard had been so fully discussed and arranged. It was a vast and thickly foliaged tree; and from the table that encircled its stem, he had easily reached a place of concealment and security.

There he had sat, perched right over our heads, during the examination of Bernhard; there he had narrowly escaped discovery, when the ostler was knotting the noose over one of the lower branches; and he had heard all our arrangements and conversation, while sitting with his heels dangling over the sumptuous breakfast to which thirty of our officers sat down, encircling the board and the broad beech-tree, like Knights of the Round Table; and there he had seen Bernhard receive the letter, and depart for Helnœsland, on that mission which he resolved to frustrate, and turn, perhaps, to his own account.

But there he was compelled to sit during the slow passing hours of a long and sunny summer day, for the little street of Hesinge was thronged by our soldiers; and there were constantly some of our officers drinking Moselle, Neckar, or Odenzee beer, playing at ombre or chess, under the tree, and the night fell before the bravo or scout, for he was both, was enabled to quit his hiding-place; and, after avoiding our sentinels, set out, with stiffened limbs and a heart that burned with rage and spite, for Helnœsland.

Moreover, he took with him a pair of steel Donne pistols belonging to Phadrig Mhor, who somewhat witlessly had left them on the table.

This must have been about ten at night.

One hour before that, sixty of our musketeers under my command, with several officers as volunteers, marched in the same direction, and by the most retired roads, towards the head of a bay, the name of which I have forgotten; but it is formed by the promontory of Helnœs, on which stands the old castle, then occupied by the Merodeurs--that regiment of terrible memory!