Never before had he seen the little Walluf so boisterous, pretending that it was important, and he quite rightly surmised that the cause was a sudden downpour in the mountains farther east.  The distant mutterings of thunder having long since ceased, he recognized that the volume of the stream was constantly lessening.  As the brook gradually subsided to its customary level, the forest became more and more silent.  The greater his endeavor to sleep, the less dormant Roland felt, and all his senses seemed unduly quickened by this ineffectual beckoning to somnolence.  He judged by the position of the stars, as he lay on his back, that it was past midnight, when suddenly he became aware of a noise to the west of him, on the other side of the brook.  Sitting up, and listening intently, he suspected, from the rustle of the underbrush, that some one was following the trail, and would presently come upon his sleeping men.

He rose stealthily, unsheathed his sword, leaped across the rivulet, and proceeded with caution up the acclivity, keeping on the trail as best he could in the darkness.  He was determined to learn the business of the wayfarer, without disturbing his men, so crept rapidly up the hill.  Presently he saw the glimmer of a light, and conjectured that some one was coming impetuously down, guided by a lanthorn swinging in his hand.  Roland stood on guard with sword extended straight in front of him, and the oncomer’s breast was almost at the point of it when he hauled himself up with a sudden cry of dismay, as the lanthorn revealed an armed man holding the path.

“I have no money,” were the first words of the stranger.

“Little matter for that,” replied Roland. “’Tis information I wish, not gear.  Why are you speeding through the forest at night, for no sane man traverses this path in the darkness?”

“I could not wait for daylight,” said the stranger, breathing heavily.  “I carry a message of the greatest importance.  Do not delay me, I beg of you.  I travel on affairs of State; Imperial matters, and it is necessary I should reach Frankfort in time, or heads may fall.”

“So serious as that?” asked Roland, lowering the point of his sword, for he saw the messenger was unarmed.  “Whom do you seek?”

“That I dare not tell you.  The message concerns those of the highest, and I am pledged to secrecy.  Be assured, sir, that I speak the truth.”

“Your voice sounds honest.  Hold up the lanthorn at arm’s length, that I may learn if your face corresponds with it.  Ha, that is most satisfactory!  And now, my hurrying youth, will you reveal your mission, or shall I be compelled to run my sword through your body?”

“You would not learn it even then,” gasped the young man, shrinking still farther up the hill.

Roland laughed.

“That is true enough,” he said, “therefore shall I not impale you, but will instead relate to you the secret you carry.  You are making not for Frankfort—­”