Alas! I knew not of what I was speaking. I had not yet heard the last of Herr von Rosenau’s entanglement, nor was I destined to escape from playing my part in it. The very next morning, after breakfast, as I was poring over a map of Switzerland, “Murray” on my right hand and “Bradshaw” on my left, his card was brought to me, together with an urgent request that I would see him immediately and alone; and before I had had time to send a reply, he came clattering into the room, trailing his sabre behind him, and dropped into the first arm-chair with a despairing self-abandonment which shook the house to its foundations. “Mr. Jenkinson,” said he, “I am a ruined man!” I answered rather drily that I was very sorry to hear it. If I must confess the truth, I thought he had come to borrow money of me. “A most cruel calamity has befallen me,” he went on; “and unless you will consent to help me out of it--” “I am sure I shall be delighted to do anything in my power,” I interrupted, apprehensively; “but I am afraid--” “You cannot refuse me till you have heard what I have to say. I am aware that I have no claim whatever upon your kindness; but you are the only man in the world who can save me, and, whereas the happiness of my whole life is at stake, the utmost you can have to put up with will be a little inconvenience. Now I will explain myself in as few words as possible, because I have only a minute to spare. In fact, I ought to be out on the ramparts at this moment. You have not forgotten what I told you about myself and the Signorina Martinelli, and how we had agreed to seize the first opportunity that offered to be privately married, and to escape over the mountains to my father’s house, and throw ourselves upon his mercy?” “I don’t remember your having mentioned any such plan.”