"Very good," said the captain; "I will lay no hinderance in your way; you will give me your word of honor that you will disclose nothing whatever as to the strength of our position, the arrangement of our troops, or as to what you have heard of our intended movements." "I pledge my word," said the merchant. "Your character is sufficient guarantee that your intentions in taking this journey are upright; but officially I could wish to see the papers connected with it, if you have them by you." "Here they are," said the merchant, in the same business-like tone. "There is my passport for a year, here the bill of goods of the Polish seller, the copies of my letters to the custom-house officer, and the replies to them." The captain glanced over the papers, and gave them back. "You are a brave man, and I heartily wish you success," said he, in a dignified tone. "How do you mean to travel?" "With post-horses. If I can not hire, I shall buy, and drive them myself. Our host will let me have a carriage, and I shall set out to-morrow morning, as I might cause more suspicion traveling by night." "Very well, then, I shall see you again at break of day. I believe that we ourselves are to move over into the enemy's country in three days' time; and if I hear no tidings from you in the mean time, I shall look you out in the conquered city. We must disperse, gentlemen; we have already sat here too long." The officers then retired with clank of arms, and Anton and his principal remained alone with the empty bottles. The merchant opened the window, and then turning to Anton, who had listened to the foregoing conversation in the greatest excitement, began, "We must part here, dear Wohlfart--" Before he could finish his sentence Anton caught hold of his hand, and said, with tears in his eyes, "Let me go with you; do not send me back to the firm. I should reproach myself intolerably my whole life through if I had left you on this journey." "It would be useless, perhaps unwise, that you should accompany me. I can perfectly well do alone all that has to be done; and if there be any risk to run, which, however, I do not believe, your presence could not protect me, and I should only have the painful feeling of having endangered another for my sake." "Still, I should be very grateful to you if you would take me with you," urged Anton; "and Miss Sabine wished it too," added he, wisely keeping his strongest argument for the last. "She is a terrible girl," said the merchant, with a smile. "Well, then, so let it be. We will go together; call the landlord, and let us make all our traveling arrangements." CHAPTER XX.