, the carpenter's
widow, and the brawny hand of a burly countryman knocked so vigorously
on the window itself that the glass shivered under the blow. 'Can't
you make room in your house for a small family? I have always been a
regular customer of yours, and many is the gulden I have spent with
you.'

At this abrupt demand, journeymen and apprentice hastened to the
window. Six asses, each laden with a heavy sack of flour, stood before
the door of the house lazily turning their long ears backward and
forward, as though they felt quite sure of finding comfortable quarters
there. Farther down the street was a heavily-loaded waggon with two
powerful brown horses. In the waggon, almost buried among beds and
other household gear, sat a woman with a baby in her arms. Four cows,
in charge of a servant-maid, were lowing behind the waggon, and a dozen
sheep stood bleating round them. Mistress Bluethgen did not take many
seconds to settle with her would-be lodger, whose calling in life was
shown by the floury state of his clothes.

'That is the miller from Erbisdorf,' said Conrad, and at a sign from
his mistress hastened to open the yard gates, that the fugitives might
put their various possessions under cover. Willing hands were soon at
work unloading and stowing away the goods, and before long the miller,
leaving his wife established in her new home, set off with his waggon
to return to Erbisdorf and fetch the rest of his possessions.

'Praise be to God!' cried Mistress Bluethgen joyfully. 'We shall not
starve now, even if the Swedes do come. God grant they may neither
take the town, nor set it on fire over our heads with their shells.'

'We must all do our best to prevent it,' said Hillner boldly. 'God
gave us strong arms and brave hearts for that very purpose.'

[1] A small German coin.

CHAPTER IV.

THE ENEMY BEFORE THE TOWN.

The tower of St. Peter's Church rises high into the air above all the
other buildings of Freiberg. In those early days church-towers were
too often used for purposes with which religion had but little to do.
Grim cannon sometimes stood there, not to fire harmless salutes on days
of public rejoicing, but more often to be loaded with deadly missiles
and fired at an enemy. Thus it happened that one of these instruments
of death had been planted in the highest chamber of the St. Peter's
Tower at Freiberg. Round this cannon, on December 27, 1642, stood
Burgomaster Jonas Schoen