as at
the storming of a fortress! _Bassa manelka_, beat away till the
drumsticks break--that's the way the brave lansquenet salute a prince."

This short speech had the desired effect. The Duke's praises were
murmured through the warlike band; they shook their halberds, stamped
their fire-arms clattering on the ground, the drummers prepared their
drums and sticks to obey their general's orders in full vigour; and
when Albert von Sturmfeder, the standard-bearer of Wuertemberg, sprang
forward, followed by Duke Ulerich, majestic as in the best days of his
power, with bold dignified countenance, Long Peter uncovered his head
in respectful submission, the preconcerted signal was instantly obeyed,
the drummers executed their military music, the colours were lowered in
salute, and the whole body of the lansquenet vociferated a loud and
cheering "Vivat Ulericus!"

The peasant of Hardt remained at a distance, not heeding the salute,
for his whole soul appeared concentred in his eye, which was fixed on
his lord in the intoxication of joy. The Duke stopped his horse, and
looked about him in the dead silence which afterwards succeeded. The
fifer then came forward, knelt down, holding his stirrup for him to
dismount, and said, "Here's to good Wuertemberg for ever!"

"Ha! are you there, Hans, my trusty companion in misfortune, the first
to salute me in Wuertemberg? I expected my nobles would have been the
foremost to greet my arrival in my country, my chancellor and my
council--where are the dogs? Where are the representatives of my
estates? will they not welcome me to my home? Is no one here to hold my
stirrup but this peasant?"

The followers of the Duke hastened around him in surprise when they
heard these cutting words. They scarcely knew whether he was in
earnest, or whether it was a mere sarcastic joke over his own
misfortunes. His mouth, appeared to smile, but his eye bespoke anger,
and his voice sounded stern and commanding. They looked at each other
in doubtful apprehension as to the meaning of this burst of passion,
when the fifer of Hardt replied,

"For this once a peasant only assists your Grace on Wuertemberg ground;
but despise not a true heart and a willing hand. The others will soon
come, when they hear the Duke treads his native land again."

"Do you think so?" said Ulerich, with a bitter smile, as he swung
himself from his horse; "do you think they'll come? Hitherto we have
little reason to flatter ourselves