"Which are--?" I added quickly.

"A trifle of expenses and a condition," said he, lazily.

"How much, and what?" I inquired, as D'ri turned his ear.

"One thousand pounds," said his Lordship, quickly. "Not a penny
more than this matter has cost me and his Majesty."

"What else?" said I.

"This man," he answered calmly, with a little gesture aimed at D'ri.

My friend rose, struck his palm with the pipe-bowl, and put up his
knife.

"Ef ye're goin' t' tek me," said he, "better begin right off, er ye
won't hev time 'fore breakfust."

Then he clapped the moose-horn to his lips and blew a mighty blast.
It made the two men jump and set the near thicket reeling. The
weird barytone went off moaning in the far wastes of timber. Its
rush of echoes had begun. I put my hand to my sabre, for there in
the edge of the gloom I saw a thing that stirred me to the marrow.
The low firs were moving toward us, root and branch, their twigs
falling. Gods of war! it made my hair stand for a jiffy to see the
very brush take feet and legs. On sea or land I never saw a thing
that gave me so odd a feeling. We stood for a breath or two, then
started back, our sabres flashing; for, as the twigs fell, we saw