It is true, that when Ferdinand said, in speaking of the charge, "whatever it may be," a voice from within told him quite plainly what that charge really was; but ere the last horseman of the train had passed across the aperture, he heard the sound of footfalls at the other end of the battlement, and turning in that direction, perceived old Karl von Mosbach and two of the soldiers advancing towards him. Now the character of Mosbach, though there was a general resemblance between all the old ritters of his day, differed considerably from that of Seckendorf. He was less frank and free, and though, perhaps, not so full of the active marauding spirit of his companion, was of a more suspicious and less generous nature. Neither had he ever shown that sort of warm and paternal friendliness for Ferdinand of Altenburg which the other old knight had always displayed towards the youth whom he had seen grow up from boyhood. These circumstances, and a knowledge of the task of watching him, which the Count had assigned to Karl von Mosbach, did not render his approach particularly agreeable to Ferdinand, and the first word of the old knight showed that his errand was as unpleasant as it well could be. "Come, Master Ferdinand," he said, "you must end your walk. I have the Count's orders to arrest you, and put you in the cell under the little hall." "What for, Mosbach," asked Ferdinand, anxious to obtain any precise information that he could get. "Nay, that is no business of mine," replied the old ritter, "you will soon hear from the Count himself, I dare say. My business is to obey his orders, so come along."