one
shall take what he likes best. On such a day as this, arms do not
belong to any one in particular, but are the property of him who can
find and make use of them. That is the sacred right of manhood. The
country is in danger! Come to my armory and arm yourselves!"

The men shouted for joy at Gotzkowsky's words, and pushed after him
with wild impetuosity into the house, and the large hall, in which
the costly weapons were tastefully grouped and ornamentally arranged
against the walls. With eager haste the men possessed themselves
of these arms, and Gotzkowsky saw with glad pride his rare Damascus
blades, his delicately carved silver-mounted pistols, his daggers
inlaid with gold, his costly ornamented sabres and guns in the hands
of his warlike workmen. He then armed himself, and his men, always
accustomed to look upon him cheerfully and willingly as their leader,
fell into line behind him in a long military procession.

"Now, then, my children," cried he, "let us go to the town-hall and
offer our services to the magistrates."

And at the head of his workmen he left the house. Soon deep silence
reigned in these rooms, so lately filled with noise and tumult.
The garden, too, had become deserted and empty. Pfannenstiel alone
remained in his elevated position, gazing pensively, as in a dream, on
his collection of pictures.

After this silence had lasted some time, Krause and Kretschmer crept,
cautiously looking around them, out of the summer-house in which they
had secreted themselves up to this moment. Their countenances were
pale and angry.

"Gotzkowsky is a puffed-up fool," exclaimed Krause, with a dark frown.
"With his swaggering phrases he has seduced these workmen away from
us, to rush into the fight like wounded wild boars, and to bring the
Russians down upon us."

"We must not give up all hope," said Kretschmer; "the people are timid
and fickle, and whoever will give them the sweetest words wins them
over to his side. Come, let us try our luck elsewhere. Every thing
depends upon our being beforehand with this braggart Gotzkowsky, and
getting first the ear of the people. You, Pfannenstiel, come with us,
and get up your words strong and spirited, so that the stupid people
may believe you."

Pfannenstiel clapped up his picture-book, and threw his cloak with
majestic dignity over his lean shoulders. "The people are like a flock
of sheep," said he; "they want a leader, never mind who. Only the
leader must be