ween his palms. "Gold,
Johann, gold?"

"Aye, gold; and the last of a pocketful, curse it! What's this noise
about?" with a gesture, toward the hall.

"The boys were in the Platz and had a brush with those damned
cuirassiers. They'll play a harder game yet." Stuler always took sides
with the students, on business principles; they constituted his purse.
"Tokayer?"

"No; champagne. Aye, these damned cuirassiers shall play a hard game ere
the week is done, or my name is not Johann Kopf. They kicked me out of
the palace grounds yesterday; me, me, me!" hammering the oak with his
fist.

"Who?"

"Von Mitter, the English-bred dog! I'll kill him one of these days. Is
it play to-night, or are they serious?" nodding again toward the hall.

"Go in," said Stuler, "and look at some of those heads; a look will
answer the purpose."

Johann followed this advice. The picture he saw was one which agreed
with the idea that had come into his mind. He returned to the bar-room.
and drank his wine thirstily, refilled the glass and emptied it. Stuler
shook his head. Johann was in a bad way when he gulped wine instead of
sipping it. Yet it was always so after a carouse.

"Where have you been keeping yourself the past week?" he asked. If the
students were his purse, Johann was his budget of news.

"You ask that?" surlily. "You knew I had money; you knew that I was off
somewhere spending it--God knows where, I don't. Another bottle of wine.
There's enough left from the gold to pay for it."

Stuler complied. Johann's thirst seemed in no way assuaged; but soon the
sullen expression, the aftermath of his spree, was replaced by one of
reckless jollity. His eyes began to sparkle.

"A great game, Stuler; they're playing a great game, and you and I will
be in at the reaping. The town is quiet, you say? The troops have
ceased murmuring, eh? A lull that comes before the storm. And when it
breaks--and break it will!--gay times for you and me. There will be
sacking. I have the list of those who lean toward the Osians. There will
be loot, old war dog!"

Stuler smiled indulgently; Johann was beginning to feel the wine.
Perhaps he was to learn something. "Yes, 'twill be a glorious day."

"A week hence, and the king goes forth a bankrupt."

"If he lives," judiciously.

"Dead or alive, it matters not which; he goes."

"And the wedding? What is it I hear about Prince Frederick and the
peasant girl?"

Johann laughed. "There will be no wedding.