"Ah! I feel ashamed of myself; but you have already guessed every thing; he only brought me a--a few words from----, my love." The young man then opened his waistcoat, and produced the strip of parchment which he had concealed on his person. "There; this is all he brought to me," said Albert, as he gave it to Fronsberg. "And is that really all," laughed Fronsberg, after reading the contents: "poor young fellow! and you know nothing more of that man? Do you not know who he is?" "No; he is nothing more to my knowledge than our messenger of love--I am certain of it!" "A pretty love messenger, who at the same time pries into our affairs! Are you not aware that that dangerous man is the fifer of Hardt?" "The fifer of Hardt?" asked Albert: "this is the first time I have heard that name; what does it mean?" "Nobody knows exactly; but he was one of the most formidable leaders in the insurrection of Poor Conrad, for which he, however, afterwards obtained pardon; since that time he leads a restless, roving life, and is now a spy of the Duke of Würtemberg." "Is he arrested?" inquired Albert, for he involuntarily felt a warm interest in his new servant. "No; it is just that which is so incomprehensible; whatever notice we may have of his being in Ulm, though communicated in the quietest manner possible, becomes known to him immediately; for example, when we heard of his being in your stable, and sent secretly to arrest him, he was not to be found. But I trust to your honour that he comes to you on no other business. You may be assured of this, however, if it be the same man I mean, he does not visit Ulm for your sake alone. Should you ever meet him again, be guarded how you trust such a vagabond. But the watchman now calls ten o'clock. Lay down again, and dream away your confinement. But before I go, give me your word about the fourteen days; and, I can tell you, if you leave Ulm without saying farewell to old Fronsberg----" "I will not fail to do so!" cried Albert, touched by the pain which he perceived his revered friend felt at parting, and which he tried to smother under a smile. He gave him his hand as a pledge of his promise, according to the desire of the council of war, upon which the knight left the room, with long measured steps. CHAPTER XII. "Could I but once that face so dear Behold before we sever; And once again those accents hear, Before we part for ever." C. GRÜNEISEN.