d about the
village, bivouacked two squadrons of cavalry, who had posted themselves
along the narrow river that defined the border, and who were appointed
to guard it in company with a detachment of riflemen. The public house
presented a scene of wild confusion: soldiers moving to and fro, and
sitting cheek by jowl in the little parlor; gay hussars and green coats
camped round the house on chairs, tables, barrels, and every thing that
could by any contrivance be converted into a seat. They appeared to
Anton so many Messrs. Pix, such was the peremptoriness with which they
disposed of the little inn and its contents. The Jew landlord received
the well-known merchant with a loud welcome, and his zeal was such that
he actually cleared out a small room for the travelers, where they could
at least spend the night alone.

The merchant had scarcely dismounted when half a dozen men surrounded
him with shouts of joy. They were the drivers of the wagons that had
been recently expedited. The oldest of their party related that, when
just beyond the frontier, they had been induced to make a hasty retreat
by the alarming spectacle of a body of armed peasants. In turning round,
the wheel of the last wagon had come off; the driver, in his fright, had
unharnessed the horses and left the wagon. While the delinquent stood
there, flourishing his hat in the air, and excusing himself as well as
he could, the officer in command came up and confirmed the story.

"You may see the wagon on the road, about a hundred yards beyond the
bridge," he went on to say; and when the merchant begged leave to cross
the bridge, he offered to send one of his officers with him.

A young officer belonging to a squadron just returned from a patrol was
curbing his fiery steed at the door of the tavern.

"Lieutenant von Rothsattel," called the captain, "accompany the
gentlemen beyond the bridge."

It was with rapture that Anton heard a name linked with so many sweet
recollections. He knew at once that the rider of the fiery charger could
be no other than the brother of his lady of the lake.

The lieutenant, tall and slender, with a delicate mustache, was as like
his sister as a young cavalry officer could be to the fairest of all
mortal maidens. Anton felt at once a warm and respectful regard for him,
which was perhaps discernible in his bow, for the young gentleman
acknowledged it by a careless inclination of his small head. His horse
went prancing on by the