"_Mordelement!_ Who are you, child of man, who knows my secret? Who
told you I had sent to the Duke?"

"Did you, Peter, send to him? What secret have you between each other
that we should not know? Tell us immediately," said the Magdeburger.

"Well, I thought it was my duty to think for you all again, as I always
have done, and sent a man to the Duke in our name, and with our
compliments, to know if he required our services? Our terms were, half
a broad piece a man per month, and for us generals and captains a gold
florin, with four measures of old wine."

"Those are no bad terms: a gold florin a month! none of us will object
to them. Have you had an answer from the Duke?" said the Magdeburger.

"Not yet," said the general. "But, _bassa manelka!_ tell me, how do you
come to know my secret, peasant, or I'll cut off your ear, and pin it
to my hat? Tell me immediately, or off it comes."

"Long Peter," cried the little captain Muckerle, "let him go in peace,
for God's sake! he is a resolute man, and possesses the art of
witchcraft. I recollect his face as well as if it was but to-day, when
we had orders to arrest him in Ulm, and were sent to look for him at
the stable of Herrn von Kraft, the clerk of the council, where he
resided. He was a spy, and was able to make himself smaller and
smaller, not bigger than a sparrow, and flew away from us."

"What!" cried the gallant general, and edged away from the peasant; "is
this the man? Why did not the magistrates of Ulm order all the sparrows
to be shot, because a Wuertemberger spy had turned himself into one?"

"That's him," whispered Muckerle; "that's the fifer of Hardt; I knew
him as soon as I saw him."

The general and his companions did not recover their astonishment for
some time. They beheld the man of whom many wonderful stories had been
related with mingled curiosity and apprehension. Hans was clever
enough, however, to understand what they whispered to each other,
without the appearance of remarking the state of surprise he had
created among them. At length, Long Peter, the official organ of the
rest, took heart, twisted his whiskers, and, taking off his enormous
hat, thus addressed the fifer of Hardt: "Pardon us, worthy companion,
and highly respected fifer of Hardt, that we have treated you with so
little ceremony; but how could we know who it was we had among us? be
many times welcome; I have long wished to see so renowned a man as the
fifer of Hardt, who had