“May I be crucified if I will,” responded the sentinel, “before I know who and what you are. Come, keep off, unless you wish to try the effect of a Polish lance,” continued the sentinel; “‘tis something, I assure you, not less awkward than your Greek fire, if Greek indeed you be.” “My friend, you are a fool,” said Iskander, “but time is too precious to argue any longer.” So saying, the Turkish commander dismounted, and taking up the brawny sentinel in his arms with the greatest ease, threw him over his shoulder, and threatening the astounded soldier with instant death if he struggled, covered him with his pelisse, and entered the camp. They approached a watch-fire, around which several soldiers were warming themselves. “Who goes there?” inquired a second sentinel. “A friend to Christendom,” answered Iskander. “The word?” Iskander hesitated. “The word, or I’ll let fly,” said the sentinel, elevating his cross bow. “The Bridge of Buda,” instantly replied the terrified prisoner beneath the pelisse of Iskander. “Why did not you answer before, then?” said one of the guards. “And why do you mock us by changing your voice?” said another. “Come, get on with you, and no more jokes.” Iskander proceeded through a street of tents, in some of which were lights, but all of which were silent. At length, he met the esquire of a Polish knight returning from a convivial meeting, not a little elevated. “Who are you?” inquired Iskander. “I am an Esquire,” replied the gentleman. “A shrewd man, I doubt not, who would make his fortune,” replied Iskander. “You must know great things have happened. Being on guard I have taken a prisoner, who has deep secrets to divulge to the Lord Hunniades. Thither, to his pavilion, I am now bearing him. But he is a stout barbarian, and almost too much for me. Assist me in carrying him to the pavilion of Hunniades, and you shall have all the reward, and half the fame.” “You are a very civil spoken young gentleman,” said the Esquire. “I think I know your voice. Your name, if I mistake not, is Leckinski?” “A relative. We had a common ancestor.” “I thought so. I know the Leckinskies ever by their voice. I am free to help you on the terms you mention--all the reward and half the fame. ‘Tis a strong barbarian, is it? We cannot cut his throat, or it will not divulge. All the reward and half the fame! I will be a knight to-morrow. It seems a sort of fish, and has a smell.” The Esquire seized the Shoulders of the prisoner, who would have spoken had he not been terrified by the threats of Iskander, who, carrying the legs of the sentinel, allowed the Polish gentleman to lead the way to the pavilion of Hunniades. Thither they soon arrived; and Iskander, dropping his burthen, and leaving the prisoner without to the charge of his assistant, entered the pavilion of the General of the Hungarians.