"There are bands of marauders in the hills; deserters, broken men, and what not, ready to snap up any unsuspecting traveller who promises to be worth it. They have done much damage in the neighbourhood, robbing and plundering undefended farms and hamlets, and though we are strong enough here to beat them off we cannot risk an expedition against them, and Prince Louis of Baden is too much occupied, I suppose, to give any heed to our requests for assistance." "Well, Monsieur," said Harry, "I was not ignorant of what you have told me. And indeed I want to ask your help in a matter not unconnected with it. Two messengers from my lord Marlborough’s army have disappeared somewhere in these parts; I think I have a clue to their fate, and wish to follow it up. Can you procure me the services of a stout, sensible fellow to ride with me?—a man thoroughly to be depended on, and one who will face danger if need be." "I know the very man," said the officer instantly; "one Max Berens, who was servant to a French officer until the beginning of the war, but, refusing to fight against his own people, is now out of employment. He is a young fellow, strong, honest, intelligent; I know him well. I will send for him." Harry liked the look of Max Berens when he appeared. He reminded him not a little of Sherebiah, of whom he might have been a younger and a slighter copy. Max readily accepted Harry’s offer of a week’s service, and promised to be ready with horses at seven o’clock that same evening. At that hour the two rode north towards the wayside inn. On the way Harry asked Max if he knew anything of the landlord. "Little enough, Monsieur. He’s a sly fellow, and demands high prices; but there, the same could be said of any innkeeper." As they drew near the inn they made a detour, and, entering the copse from the farther side, tied up their horses and came through the trees. Dusk had already fallen, and as the sky was overcast the evening was blacker than is usual at the time of year. The inn was in darkness except for a light in the kitchen. Followed by Max, Harry emerged from the copse, crossed the road, and rapped smartly on the closed door. It was opened almost immediately by the landlord himself, who, seeing two men on foot, and not recognizing Harry in the darkness, said: "Come in, gentlemen. What are your commands? I will bring a light in a moment." Returning with a candle, he now saw who the first of his visitors was, and looked very uncomfortable. "I have very little in the house, Excellency——" he began deprecatingly. Harry cut him short. "Pray don’t be distressed. I left hurriedly—you remember me, landlord?—and we have a little reckoning to make together. It need not take long.—Max, stand at the door, and see that our good host and I are not disturbed.—Now, landlord, we will have a little talk." The kitchen door was open and the room empty. "This will do quite well; I repeat, we shall not remain long."