These simple tidings had seemed of little meaning to their ears if Hans were not there to give them significance, filling up all the blanks by wise surmises, and suggesting reasons and causes for every thing. He had his own theory of the war--where the enemy should be met, and how; in what manner certain defiles should be defended, and how, in case of defeat, the scattered forces might re-unite; little views of strategy and tactics, that seemed like inspiration to the simple ears who beard him.
Hans' tidings grew daily more important; and one evening he returned to the Kletscher with a sealed note for the Curate--a circumstance which excited the most intense curiosity in the Dorf. It was not long ungratified, for the old priest speedily appeared in the little square before the Vorsteher's House, and announced that each evening, at sunset, a Mass would be said in the chapel, and a prayer invoked on all who loved "Gott, der Kaiser, und das Vaterland." Hans was pressed on every side; some asking what was going on in the valley, others eager to hear if the Austrians had not been defeated, and that the Mass was for the slain. Hans knew less than usual; he could only tell that large bodies of the peasantry were seen ascending the mountain towards Landeck, armed with saws and hatchets, while kegs of blasting powder were borne along between others. "We shall know more, soon," added Hans; "but come! the chapel is lighted already; the Mass has begun."
How picturesque was the effect the chapel presented! The sun was setting, and its long golden rays, mingled with the red light of the tapers, tipping the rich draperies of the altar and its glittering vessels with a parti-coloured light; the kneeling figures of the peasantry, clad in all the varied colours of Tyrol taste; the men bronzed by sun and season, dark-bearded, stern, and handsome; the women fairer, but not less earnest in expression; the white-haired priest, dressed in a simple robe of white, with a blue scarf over it--the Bavarians had stripped the chapels even of the vestments of the clergy--the banners of the little volunteer battalion of the mountain waving overhead,--all, made up a picture simple and unpretending, but still solemn and impressive.