“My noble lord, first use Hans of Iceland’s name to wreak your revenge upon Schumacker; then it will be time enough to think of vengeance against Hans himself. The insurgents will march all day, and halt to-night in Black Pillar Pass, two miles from Skongen.” “What! can you venture to let so large a force advance so close to Skongen? Musdœmon, take care!” “You are suspicious, noble Count. Your worship may send a messenger at once to Colonel Vœthaün, whose regiment is probably at Skongen now; inform him that the rebel forces will encamp to-night in Black Pillar Pass, and have no misgivings. The place seems made purposely for ambuscades.” “I understand you; but why, my dear fellow, did you muster the rebels in such numbers?” “The greater the insurrection, sir, the greater will be Schumacker’s crime and your merit. Besides, it is important that it should be crushed at a single blow.” “Very good; but why did you order them to halt so near Skongen?” “Because it is the only spot in the mountains where all resistance is impossible. None will ever leave it alive but those whom we select to appear before the court.” “Capital! Something tells me, Musdœmon, to finish this business quickly. If all looks well in this quarter, it looks stormy in another. You know that we have been making secret search at Copenhagen for the papers which we feared had fallen into the possession of Dispolsen?” “Well, sir?” “Well, I have just discovered that the scheming fellow had mysterious relations with that accursed astrologer, Cumbysulsum.” “Who died recently?” “Yes; and that the old sorcerer delivered certain papers to Schumacker’s agent before he died.” “Damnation! He had letters of mine,--a statement of our plot!” “_Your_ plot, Musdœmon!” “A thousand pardons, noble Count! But why did your worship put yourself in the power of such a humbug as Cumbysulsum?--the old traitor!” “You see, Musdœmon, I am not a sceptic and unbeliever, like you. It is not without good reason, my dear fellow, that I have always put my trust in old Cumbysulsum’s magic skill.” “I wish your worship had had as much doubt of his loyalty as you had trust in his skill. However, let us not take fright too soon, noble master. Dispolsen is dead, his papers are lost; in a few days we shall be safely rid of those whom they might benefit.” “In any event, what charge could be brought against me?” “Or me, protected as I am by your Grace?” “Oh, yes, my dear fellow, of course you can count upon me; but let us bring this business to a head. I will send the messenger to the colonel. Come, my people are waiting for me behind those bushes, and we must return to Throndhjem, which the Mecklenburger must have left ere now. Continue to serve me faithfully, and in spite of all the Cumbysulsums and Dispolsens upon earth, you can count on me in life and death!” “I beg your Grace to believe--The Devil!”