nform him, That he,
Feldmarschall Seckendorf, was under arrest; arrest in his own house,
in the KOHLMARKT (Cabbage-market so called), a captain and twelve
musketeers to watch over him with fixed bayonets there; strictly
private, till the HOFKRIEGSRATH had satisfied themselves in a point
or two. "Hmph!" snuffled he; with brow blushing slate-color, I should
think, and gray eyes much alight. And ever since, for ten months or so,
Seckendorf, sealed up in the Cabbage-market, has been fencing for
life with the HOFKRIEGSRATH; who want satisfaction upon "eighty-six"
different "points;" and make no end of chicaning to one's clear answers.
And the Jesuits preach, too: "A Heretic, born enemy of Christ and his
Kaiser; what is the use of questioning!" And the Heathen rage, and all
men gnash their teeth, in this uncomfortable manner.

Answering done, there comes no verdict, much less any acquittal; the
captain and twelve musketeers, three of them with fixed bayonets in
one's very bedroom, continue. One evening, 21st July, 1738, glorious
news from the seat of War--not TILL evening, as the Imperial Majesty
was out hunting--enters Vienna; blowing trumpets; shaking flags: "Grand
Victory over the Turks!" so we call some poor skirmish there has been;
and Vienna bursting all into three-times-three, the populace get very
high. Populace rush to the Kohlmarkt: break the Seckendorf windows;
intent to massacre the Seckendorf; had not fresh military come, who were
obliged to fire and kill one or two. "The house captain and his twelve
musketeers, of themselves, did wonders; Seckendorf and all his domestics
were in arms:" "JARNI-BLEU" for the last time!--This is while the
Crown-Prince is at Wesel; sound asleep, most likely; Loo, and the
Masonic adventure, perhaps twinkling prophetically in his dreams.

At two next morning, an Official Gentleman informs Seckendorf, That
he, for his part, must awaken, and go to Gratz. And in one hour more (3
A.M.), the Official Gentleman rolls off with him; drives all day; and
delivers his Prisoner at Gratz:--"Not so much as a room ready there;
Prisoner had to wait an hour in the carriage," till some summary
preparation were made. Wall-neighbors of the poor Feldmarschall, in his
Fortress here, were "a GOLD-COOK (swindling Alchemist), who had gone
crazy; and an Irish Lieutenant, confined thirty-two years for some
love-adventure, likewise pretty crazy; their noises in the night-time
much disturbed the Feldmarschall."