“Ah! Semovit, is it you indeed?” exclaimed Ryngold, Boppo’s attendant, meeting an old acquaimtance.
“Yes, truly; and is it you I see or some other fellow?” rejoined Semovit, laughing.
“What cheer?” inquired Ryngold.
“Scarcely passable,” answered Semovit. “Little enjoyment, less luck these days. Only our poor pay, and even that not regular.”
“What leisure, then?” asked Ryngold.
“To-day and to-morrow on guard; and after that ordered to prepare for Moravia. Some pestilent fellow has raised a disturbance again.”
“It is now twenty-nine years since we met in Prussia, and here we are soldiering yet,” said Ryngold.
“Even so,” replied Semovit, “but I doubt whether Moravia will see my face this time. Rudolph’s service is not as good as a snug tavern and a widow in Vienna.”
“What hours, then, to-morrow on guard?” asked Ryngold.
“Noon until six, worse luck,” said Semovit; “and I should have not that only that a troublesome embassy from Prague has insisted on an audience at three and I must be there.” A quart of beer renewed old comradeship and Ryngold departed to announce his intelligence to his master.
At the hour named Boppo presented himself, reasoning that he had better speak, as no opportunity would occur at Erfurt.
Advancing with the deputation, and being instantly
