if you could have seen and
heard me, for I clashed my sabre as I spoke, and swung my dolman as
though my regiment was picketed outside in the courtyard. They listened
to me in silence, but the back of the Prince bowed more and more as
though the burden which weighed upon it was greater than his strength.
He looked round with haggard eyes.

'We have heard a Frenchman speak for France,' said he. 'Let us have a
German speak for Germany.'

The folk glanced at each other, and whispered to their neighbours. My
speech, as I think, had its effect, and no man wished to be the first to
commit himself in the eyes of the Emperor. The Princess looked round
her with blazing eyes, and her clear voice broke the silence.

'Is a woman to give this Frenchman his answer?' she cried. 'Is it
possible, then, that among the night-riders of Lutzow there is none who
can use his tongue as well as his sabre?'

Over went a table with a crash, and a young man had bounded upon one of
the chairs. He had the face of one inspired--pale, eager, with wild hawk
eyes, and tangled hair. His sword hung straight from his side, and his
riding-boots were brown with mire.

'It is Korner!' the people cried. 'It is young Korner, the poet! Ah, he
will sing, he will sing.'

And he sang! It was soft, at first, and dreamy, telling of old Germany,
the mother of nations, of the rich, warm plains, and the grey cities,
and the fame of dead heroes. But then verse after verse rang like a
trumpet-call. It was of the Germany of now, the Germany which had been
taken unawares and overthrown, but which was up again, and snapping the
bonds upon her giant limbs. What was life that one should covet it? What
was glorious death that one should shun it? The mother, the great
mother, was calling. Her sigh was in the night wind. She was crying to
her own children for help. Would they come? Would they come? Would they
come?

Ah, that terrible song, the spirit face and the ringing voice! Where
were I, and France, and the Emperor? They did not shout, these
people--they howled. They were up on the chairs and the tables. They
were raving, sobbing, the tears running down their faces. Korner had
sprung from the chair, and his comrades were round him with their sabres
in the air. A flush had come into the pale face of the Prince, and he
rose from his throne.

'Colonel Gerard,' said he, 'you have heard the answer which you are to
carry to your Emperor. The die is cast, my children. You