"Good gracious! have you lost your tongues?" Felix Merckel called from the window. "And why haven't you brought your paragon, Lieutenant Baumgart, with you?"
The Schrandeners began to think these strangers must be playing off a joke on them, and burst into extravagant laughter.
Then Karl Engelbert, who evidently had the command of the expedition, came under the window from which Felix's broad-shouldered form obtruded itself, and, greeting him with a half-military salute, said--
"With your permission, Herr Lieutenant, we have come here not to take part in any festivities or anything of that sort. We are a funeral party."
"But here in Schranden no one is going to be buried," cried Felix Merckel, still laughing, but his face appreciably lengthened.
"Indeed, Herr Lieutenant! Nevertheless, we have been invited to a funeral."
"Our former officer, Lieutenant Baumgart."
"Nonsense! There's no Lieutenant Baumgart here. I thought you were going to bring him with you."
"Pardon, Herr Lieutenant, he is here already."
"Probably you know him better under another name--Herr von Schranden."
The stone jug in Felix's hand fell and crashed to pieces at Engelbert's feet. The beer splashed his legs up to the knee.
A tumult arose inside the inn. As if in preparation for battle, windows were speedily closed, and Johann Radtke, driven by thirst to ascend the steps to the main entrance, found the door banged in his face.
"Hunted from the threshold like tramps!" grumbled the dark-haired Peter Negenthin, and clenched his fist in his sling.
"Do you wish to perjure yourself?" asked Engelbert in a low voice, coming close to him. "If so, then go back. What is required of us we must do. Whoever forgets the church at Dannigkow is a cur!"
"And if we are dry we must wet our whistles with holy water, I suppose," added Radtke with a sigh.
Engelbert shouldered his musket and gave the orders to move on. The procession filed off in the direction of the Castle, a handful of natives, out of respect for the muskets, bringing up the rear.
Boleslav stood on the bridge to receive his friends.
He rushed towards them in delight, and could hardly articulate, for emotion, the words of gratitude that rose to his lips.
Engelbert held out his hand in silence. Boleslav was going to embrace him, but he drew back. In his excitement Boleslav did not notice the rebuff.