attired officer was a fugitive; but,
believing that he was one of Leslie's friends who was setting out on
some mission, they paid no further heed to him, as quietly and without
any sign of haste he rode through the gateway of the castle into the
town. The inhabitants were already in the streets, country women with
baskets were vending their produce, and the market was full of people.
Malcolm rode on at a foot pace until he was within sight of the open
gate of the town. When within fifty yards of the gate he suddenly came
upon Colonel Leslie, who had thus early been making a tour of the walls
to see that the sentries were upon the alert, for Duke Bernhard's force
was within a few miles. He instantly recognized Malcolm.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, "Captain Graheme--treachery! treachery! shut the
gate there," and drawing his sword, threw himself in Malcolm's way.

Malcolm touched the horse with his spur and it bounded forward; he
parried the blow which Leslie struck at him, and, with a sweeping cut
full on the traitor's helmet, struck him to the ground and then dashed
onward. A sentry was beginning to shut the gate, and his comrades were
running out from the guardhouse as Malcolm galloped up.

The steward had fastened the holsters on to the saddle, and Malcolm,
before starting, had seen to the priming of the pistols in them. Drawing
one he shot the man who was closing the gate, and before his comrades
could run up he dashed through it and over the drawbridge.

Several bullets whizzed around him, but he was soon out of range, and
galloping at full speed in the direction in which the steward had told
him that Duke Bernhard was encamped. In half an hour he reached the
Swedish lines, and rode at once to the tent of the duke who was upon the
point of mounting; beside him stood a man in the livery of Wallenstein.
As he rode up Malcolm drew his pistol, and said to the man:

"If you move a foot I will send a bullet through your head."

"What is this?" exclaimed the duke in astonishment, "and who are you,
sir, who with such scant courtesy ride into my camp?"

Malcolm raised his vizor. "I am Captain Graheme of Munro's regiment,"
he said, "and I have ridden here to warn your excellency of treachery.
Wallenstein has been foully murdered. Egra is in the hands of the
Imperialists, the Duke of Saxe-Lauenburg has been beguiled into a trap
and taken prisoner, and this fellow, who is one of Butler's troopers,
has been sent here to lead you i