'No, monsieur,' said he, 'I am not in the habit of bearing messages for M. Pappenheim; he is one for whom I have but little love----' 'Give me your hand, my dear M. René. I request to be admitted to a copartnery in that abhorrence.' 'You hate each other, then?' ''Tis to avoid his assassins I am this night quartered like a paladin of old in this enchanted chapel; for being in a wood, it must, of course, be enchanted.' 'Yes; it is said that the spirit of Charles the Hardy stalks forth every night at twelve o'clock, side by side with René of Lorraine, both cap-a-pie.' 'Well, twelve is long since past by my watch, and neither of these personages have gone forth, unless they have done so unseen by me. And so you, too, are at enmity with Pappenheim?' 'Enmity deep, bitter, and undying!' 'We are allies,' thought I; 'but, the devil! we may be rivals, too!' 'In a dispute when hunting, Count Pappenheim, who is a rough and unlicked German cub, dared to strike me with his riding-rod--I, René of Gondrecourt, knight of Malta. Oh, M. Blane! but for the solemn vow which binds me to my order, and but for the marriage which is about to be celebrated between him and mademoiselle my foster-sister, this dagger had laid him dead beside the deer which was the matter in dispute.' 'No vows bind me, dear René,' said I, pressing the hand of the young Chevalier; 'and when Pappenheim and I meet, my sword, I hope, shall write on his plump German hide a full and fair apology for all our wrongs.' 'We heard of a strange accident just before I left the palace. The Count de Bitche and ten of his petardiers left Nanci on horseback this forenoon abruptly, and without the Duke's orders took the road to Luneville.' 'Indeed!' said I, becoming suddenly interested. 'Sergeant Caspar Alsfeldt of Vaudemont's musketeers----' 'A brave and kind old fellow; he brought me prisoner to Nanci.' 'Well, he was despatched with an order for their immediate return; but they mistook him for some one else, as he was dressed in a strange hat and cloak, so they fired and pistolled the poor man about sunset, and he is now lying dead on the road, about three miles from Nanci.' 'My brave sergeant! he fell into the trap intended by the villains for me; for doubtless the hat and cloak he wore were mine. I may well thank Heaven for the foresight of Vaudemont.' 'Hence, M. Blane,' said René, grasping his reins, 'mademoiselle, my foster-sister, sent me to conjure you, by God's love and her own, to leave this place without delay, and to accept this little note, which contains her farewell to you. Adieu, monsieur--or rather au revoir, for we shall meet again in our helmets during some of those fine summer days on the banks of the Rhine.'