'So--so! this Scottish adventurer stands between me and the girl I love; between me and my own flesh and blood; more than all, between me and the fortune of Dolores!' muttered Morganstjern--himself a penniless adventurer and knave to boot, as he strode through the streets with his left hand in the hilt of his sword and his right tightly clenched. 'I have a right to hate and dread him--the right to remove him, too, by fair means or foul!' The latter were the only means he could think of, as he had a wholesome dread of Lewie Baronald's skill with his sword, and the bucks of the Scots Brigade were not wont to stand on trifles when they resorted to that weapon; and in this mood of mind he rejoined his friend the Heer van Schrekhorn, whom he found at an estaminet called the _Gond Zon_, or 'Golden Sun,' in a narrow and gloomy street near the Klooster Kerk. There he found him seated in a quiet corner, smoking, drinking schiedam and water, while intently studying some profitable and useful gambling tricks with a pack of not overclean cards. 'I have just been trying some ruses or tricks at lansquenet,' said he, as the tapster brought fresh glasses and more liquor; 'it is the grandest of old gambling games, like those that are of French origin. Look here, to begin with: the cards being shuffled by the dealer, and cut by one of the party, two are dealt out and turned up on the left hand of the dealer, _so_; he then takes one and places a fourth, the _réjouissance_ card, in the middle of the table, _so_. On this----' 'Enough of this, Van Schrekhorn,' said Morganstjern impatiently. 'I did not come here to be taught lansquenet,' he added, as he threw his sword, hat, and gloves on a side-table, and flung himself wearily into a chair. 'Oh--so you have just come from the house of _la belle_ Dolores?' 'Yes,' replied the other with an imprecation. 'And left her well and happy, I hope?' said the Heer mockingly. I left her with that fellow of the Scots Brigade.' ''Sdeath! the more fool you. Why not keep your ground? Were you not there before him?' 'Yes, and did my best to win her favour--even her mere regard.' 'In vain?' 'As usual. In fact, I think these two are affianced--or nearly so. I never so bestirred myself about a woman before,' said Morganstjern, as he drank at a draught a crystal goblet of schiedam and water, and refilled it. 'How is the Countess affected towards you?' 'But indifferently. Indeed, she only tolerates me as a kinsman, and, I suppose, has encouraged or permitted Baronald's addresses to her daughter, because he is the heir of General Kinloch, while I am heir to that only of which nothing can deprive me.' 'And that is?' 'A grave--six feet of earth,' replied Morganstjern, grinding his teeth unpleasantly. 'Come--you have always the guilders you win at roulette.' 'Because they are so won, there is the greater necessity that I should have those of my cousin Dolores.'