PAGE 11
The Hirsch-Gulden
by
“What’s the matter with you, landlady?” said the compass-maker in surprise. “What harm can it do you if we sit here even after you have gone to sleep? We are honest people, and won’t run off with any thing, nor leave without paying. I won’t be ordered around in this way in any tavern.”
The woman’s eyes flashed angrily. “Do you suppose I will change the rules of my house to suit every ragamuffin of a journeyman and every vagrant who pays me only twelve kreuzers? I tell you for the last time that I won’t submit to this nuisance.”
The compass-maker was about to make a retort, when the student gave him a significant look, winked at the others, and said: “Very well, if the landlady will have it so, then let us go up to our rooms. But we should like some candles to find our way.”
“I cannot accommodate you in that,” responded the landlady, sullenly; “the others can find their way in the dark, and this stump of a candle will suffice for your needs; it’s all I have in the house.”
The young gentleman got up and took the light without replying. The others followed him, the journeymen taking their bundles up with them to keep them near their side.
When they got up to the head of the stairs, the student cautioned them to step very lightly, opened his door, and beckoned them to come in. “There can now be no doubt,” said he, “that she means to betray us. Did you not notice how anxious she was to have us go to bed, and the means she took to prevent our remaining awake and together? She probably thinks that we will go to bed now, and thus play into her hands.”
“But do you think that escape is impossible?” asked Felix. “In the forest one might more reasonably hope for rescue than in this room.”
“These windows are also grated,” said the student, vainly trying to wrench out one of the iron bars. “There is but one way by which we can get out, if we wish to escape, and that is by way of the front door; but I do not believe that they would let us out.”
“We might make the attempt,” said the wagoner; “I will see whether I can get into the yard. If it is possible then I will return for you.”
The others assented to this proposal, so the wagoner took off his shoes and stole on tiptoe to the stair-case, while his companions listened anxiously from their room. He had got half-way down, safely and unnoticed, when suddenly a bull-dog rose up before him, placed its paws on his shoulders, and displayed a gleaming set of teeth right before his face. He did not dare to step either forward or backward, for at the least movement the dog would have seized him by the throat. At the same time the dog began to growl and bark, until the landlady and hostler appeared with lights.
“Where were you going? What do you want? cried the woman.
“I wanted to fetch something from my cart,” answered the wagoner trembling in every limb; for as the door opened he had caught a glimpse of several dark suspicious faces of armed men in the room.
“You might have done that before you went upstairs,” replied the woman crossly. “Come here, Fassan! Jacob, lock the yard-gate and light the man out to his wagon.”
The dog drew back his muzzle from the wagoner’s face, removed his paws from the man’s shoulders, and lay down once more across the stair-way. In the meantime the hostler had secured the yard-gate, and now lighted the wagoner to his cart. An escape was not to be thought of. But when he came to consider what he should take from his wagon, he recollected that he had a pound of wax candles that were to be delivered in the next town. “That short piece of candle won’t last more than fifteen minutes longer,” said he to himself, “and yet we must have light!” He therefore took two wax candles from the wagon, concealed them in his sleeve, and also took his cloak as an excuse for his errand, telling the hostler that he needed it for a blanket.