Germans were assembled in small groups, and the Neudorf bailiff
came to meet him, crying, "There's no time to lose; the others are
beginning to notice us; there is a party of scythes forming yonder
against us."

"Follow me!" cried Anton, in a loud voice; "draw close; forward! let's
leave the town."

The forester sprang from side to side, marshaling the men; Anton and the
bailiff led the way. As they reached the corner of the market-place,
scythes were crossed; and the leader of the party cocked his gun, and
said theatrically, "Why do you wish to leave, my fine sir? Take arms, ye
people; to-day is the day of liberty!"

He said no more, for the forester, springing forward, gave him such an
astounding box on the ear that he reeled and fell, his gun dropping from
his hand. A loud cry arose; the forester caught up the gun, and the
scythe-bearers, taken by surprise, were dashed aside, their scythes
taken from them, and broken on the pavement. Thus the German band
reached the gates, and there, too, the enemy yielded, and the dense mass
passed on unmolested till they reached the inn appointed. There the
bailiff, urged on by Anton, addressed the people:

"There is a plot against the government. There is a plot against us
Germans. Our armed enemies are few, and we have just seen that we can
manage them. Let every orderly man remain here, and help the citizens to
drive out the strangers. The town militia will send us word how we can
best do this, therefore remain together, countrymen!"

At these words, many cried "We will! we will!" but many, too, grew
fearful, and stole away home. Those who remained looked out for arms as
best they could, taking up pitchforks, bars of iron, wooden cudgels, or
whatever else lay ready to hand.

"I came here to buy powder and shot," said the forester to Anton. "Now I
have a gun, and I will fire my very last charge, if we can only revenge
the insult they have offered to our eagle."

Meanwhile the hours passed as usual at the castle, and it was now about
noon. The baron, accompanied by his wife, walked in the sunshine,
grumbling because the molehills against which his foot tripped were not
yet leveled. This led him to the conclusion that there was no reliance
to be placed upon hired dependents of any kind; and that Wohlfart was
the most forgetful of his class. On this theme he enlarged with a kind
of gloomy satisfaction, the baroness only contradicting him as far as
she could without putting h