on, who had thrown himself ready dressed on
the bed, was awakened by a slight knock. "The letters are come, sir."
And, hurrying into the office, he found the principal and Mr. Jordan
already there, engaged in earnest conversation, which the former merely
interrupted for a moment by the words "We go." Never had Anton knocked
at so many doors, run so quickly up and down stairs, and so heartily
shaken the hands of his colleagues, as in the course of the next hour.
As he hurried along the dim corridor, he heard a slight rustling. Sabine
stepped toward him and seized hold of his hand. "Wohlfart, protect my
brother." Anton promised, with inexpressible readiness, to do so; felt
for his loaded pistols, a present from Mr. Fink, and jumped into the
railway carriage with the most blissful feelings a youthful hero could
possibly have. He was bent on adventure, proud of the confidence of his
principal, and exalted to the utmost by the tender relation into which
he had entered with the divinity of the firm. He was indeed happy.

The engine puffed and snorted across the wide plain like a horse from
Beelzebub's stables. There were soldiers in all the carriages--bayonets
and helmets shining every where; at all the stations, crowds of curious
inquirers, hasty questions and answers, fearful rumors, and marvelous
facts. Anton was glad when they left the railroad and the soldiers, and
posted on to the frontier in a light carriage: The high road was quiet,
less frequented indeed than usual, but when they drew near the border
they repeatedly met small detachments of military. The merchant did not
say any thing to Anton about the business in hand, but spoke with much
animation on every other subject, and treated his traveling companion
with confidential cordiality. Only he showed an aversion to Anton's
pistols, which a little damped the latter's martial ardor; for when, at
the second station, he carefully drew them out of his pocket to examine
their condition, Mr. Schroeter pointed toward their brown muzzles,
saying, "I do not think we shall succeed in getting back our goods by
dint of pocket pistols. Are they loaded?"

Anton bowed assent, adding, with a last remnant of martial vanity, "They
are at full cock."

"Really!" said the principal, seriously, taking them out of Anton's
pocket, and then calling to the postillion to hold his horses, he coolly
shot off both barrels, remarking good-naturedly as he returned the
pistols to their owner, "I