"This is my daughter Thekla."
"I am glad to see you," the girl said; "but I am a little disappointed.
I had thought that the Scots were such big fierce soldiers, and
you are not very big -- not so tall as papa; and you do not look
fierce at all -- not half so fierce as my cousin Caspar, who is
but a boy."
"That is very rude, Thekla," her mother said reprovingly, while
Malcolm laughed gaily.
"You are quite right, Fraulein Thekla. I know I do not look very
fierce, but I hope when my moustache grows I shall come up more
nearly to your expectations. As to my height, I have some years to
grow yet, seeing that I am scarce eighteen, and perhaps no older
than your cousin."
"Have you recently joined, sir?" the countess asked.
"I have served through the campaign," Malcolm replied, "and have
seen some hard knocks given, as you may imagine when I tell you
that I was at the siege of New Brandenburg."
"When your soldiers fought like heroes, and, as I heard, all died
sword in hand save two or three officers who managed to escape."
"I was one of the three, countess; but the tale is a long one, and
can be told after we have done with the Imperialists. Now, sir,"
he went on, turning to the count, "I am at your orders, and will
take post with my men at any point that you may think fit."
"Before doing that," the count said, "you must join us at breakfast.
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