he extraordinary coat of mail he has on; it is for all the world like
a large nutshell, to protect his back, in case he has to run for it. He
is my faithful chancellor, Ambrosius Bolland."

"By the holy Virgin! what an unjust opinion I have formed of him,"
replied Albert; "I never thought he would have drawn a sword or mounted
a horse, and there he sits upon a beast as big as an elephant, and
carries a sword as long as himself. I never should have given him
credit for so martial a spirit."

"Do you suppose it is his own free-will which impels him to attend me
in the field? No, I have been obliged by force to make him follow me.
Having pushed me to extremities against my will, in order to satisfy
his wicked intentions, which I fear has placed me upon the brink of a
precipice, he shall partake of the soup himself which he has cooked for
me. He wept when I insisted on his coming with me; complaining of his
gout, and other infirmities, saying his nature was not military; but I
made him buckle on his armour, and put him on a horse, the most fiery
beast in my stable. He shall have the bitters as well as the sweets of
his counsel."

During this discourse the knight of the hump threw open his vizor, and
discovered his pale affrighted countenance. The eternal hypocritical
smile had vanished, his piercing little eyes had swollen beyond their
ordinary size, and assumed a staring look, turning slowly and timidly
from side to side; a cold perspiration sat upon his forehead, and his
voice had softened down into a trembling whisper. "For the mercy of
God, most worthy Albert von Sturmfeder, most beloved friend and
benefactor," said he, "pray say a good word for me to our obdurate
master, that he may release me from this masquerading gambol. The ride
in this heavy armour has most cruelly tormented me, the helmet presses
on my brain, setting all my thoughts on the dance, and my knees are
bent with the gout. Pray, pray do! say a kind word for your humble
servant, Ambrosius Bolland; I will certainly repay it ten-fold."

The young man turned away in disgust, from the cowardly sinner. "My
Lord Duke," said he, whilst a blush of high-minded scorn and contempt
coloured his cheeks, "permit him to go. The knights have drawn their
swords, and pressed their helmets firmer on their foreheads; the people
shake their spears, impatient for the signal of attack; why, then,
should a coward be counted among the ranks of men?"

"He remains, I say," re