“Hepburn himself could make neither head nor tail of it, and was half inclined to believe that this avenging force was led by the ghosts of those who had been slain at New Brandenburg.  Whenever we can’t account for a thing, we Scots are inclined to believe it’s supernatural.

“Now tell me more about the affair, Malcolm.  By the way do you know that you are a lieutenant now?  Poor Foulis died of the fever a few days after you left us, and as the king had himself ordered that you were to have the next vacancy, I of course appointed you at once.  We must drink tonight to your promotion.”

Malcolm now related fully the incidents of the siege.

“By my faith, Malcolm Graheme,” Munro said when he had finished, “you are as lucky as you are brave.  Mansfeld is a powerful nobleman, and has large possessions in various parts of Germany and much influence, and the king will be grateful that you have thus rendered him such effective assistance and so bound him to our cause.  I believe he has no children.”

“He has a daughter,” Malcolm said, “a pretty little maid some fourteen years old.”

“In faith, Malcolm, ’tis a pity that you and she are not some four or five years older.  What a match it would be for you, the heiress of Mansfeld; she would be a catch indeed!  Well, there’s time enough yet, my lad, for there is no saying how long this war will last.”

There was a general laugh, and the colonel continued: 

“Malcolm has the grace to colour, which I am afraid the rest of us have lost long ago.  Never mind, Malcolm, there are plenty of Scotch cadets have mended their fortune by means of a rich heiress before now, and I hope there will be many more.  I am on the lookout for a wealthy young countess myself, and I don’t think there is one here who would not lay aside his armour and sword on such inducement.  And now, gentlemen, as we have all finished, I will leave you to your wine while I go across with our young lieutenant to the king.  I must tell him tonight, or he will not sleep with wondering over the mystery.  We will be back anon and will broach a cask of that famous wine we picked up the other day, in honour of Malcolm Graheme’s promotion.”

Sir John Hepburn was dining with Gustavus, and the meal was just concluded when Colonel Munro was announced.

“Well, my brave Munro, what is it?” the king said heartily, “and whom have you here?  The young officer who escaped from New Brandenburg and Tilly, unless I am mistaken.”

“It is, sir, but I have to introduce him in a new character tonight, as the leader of your majesty’s army who have defeated the Imperialists at Mansfeld.”

“Say you so?” exclaimed the king.  “Then, though I understand you not, we shall hear a solution of the mystery which has been puzzling us.  Sit down, young sir; fill yourself a flagon of wine, and expound this riddle to us.”

Malcolm repeated the narrative as he had told it to his colonel, and the king expressed his warm satisfaction.