“Really,” exclaimed the general when he was left alone, “Ordener uses and abuses his privileges. A blade too often bent will break. To make me spend a night in sleepless impatience! To expose General Levin to the sarcasms of a chancellor’s wife and the conjectures of a servant! And all this that an aged enemy may have those first greetings which are due to an old friend! Ordener! Ordener! whims are destructive of liberty! Let him come, only let him come now, deuce take me if I don’t receive him as gunpowder does fire,--I’ll blow him up! To expose the governor of Throndhjem to a servant’s conjectures and a she-chancellor’s sarcasms! Let him come!” The general went on making marginal notes on his papers without reading them, so all-absorbing was his ill-temper. “General! my noble father!” cried a familiar voice; and Ordener clasped in his arms the old man, who did not even try to repress a cry of joy. “Ordener, my good Ordener! Zounds! how glad I am!” He collected his thoughts in the middle of his phrase. “I am glad, Baron, that you have learned to control your feelings. You seem pleased to see me again. It was probably to mortify your flesh, that you deprived yourself of that pleasure for a whole day and night.” “Father, you have often told me that an unfortunate enemy should be put before a fortunate friend. I come from Munkholm.” “Of course,” said the general, “when the enemy’s misfortune is imminent. But Schumacker’s future--” “Looks more threatening than ever. Noble General, there is an odious plot on foot against that unlucky man. Men born his friends, would ruin him; a man born his foe, must serve him.” The general, whose face had gradually cleared, interrupted Ordener. “Very good, my dear Ordener. But what are you talking about? Schumacker is under my protection. What men? What plots?” Ordener could scarcely have replied plainly to this question. He had but very vague gleams of light, very uncertain suspicions as to the position of the man for whom he was about to expose his life. Many will think that he acted foolishly; but young hearts do what they think right by instinct, and not from calculation; and besides, in this world, where prudence is so barren and wisdom so caustic, who denies that generosity is folly? All is relative on earth, where all is limited; and virtue would be the greatest madness if there were no God behind man. Ordener was at the age to believe and to be believed. He risked his life trustingly. Even the general accepted reasons which would not have borne calm discussion. “What plots? What men? Good father, in a few days I shall have solved the mystery; then you shall know all that I know. I must start off again to-night.” “What!” cried the old man, “can you spare me but a few hours? Where are you going? Why are you going, my dear son?” “You have sometimes allowed me, my noble father, to perform a praiseworthy act in secret.”