ey certainly can show no mandate from
the emperor, and if the worst come, we have walls and ditches, and
strong burgher hands accustomed to the use of arms, to defend our
dearest treasure, religious freedom.'

During this conversation, he had with eager impetuosity drawn his
brother-in-law towards the door. There they heard the distant notes of
a march from trumpets, clarions and kettle-drums, and the confused
murmurs of a crowd reached them from the great public square.

'We are too late,' sighed Fessel. 'The music comes from the direction
of the Striegauer-gate. The Lichtensteins are already in the city.'

'Then may God by some miracle give the lie to my fears, and Goes keep
his word!' cried Dorn. 'I anticipate dreadful scenes.'

Fessel opened the window and listened to the music, which at first
appeared to approach, but afterwards sounded fainter and fainter as if
receding. 'Do you hear?' said he to his distrusting brother-in-law,
'you owe an apology to the worthy colonel for your suspicions. The
troops are already passing out by the Nieder-gate.'

'God grant it may be so,' sighed Dorn, placing himself by Fessel's side
at the window. 'I am not yet satisfied of the fact, however.' Both
continued listening to the last dying tones of the march.

'How the ear can deceive one!' said Fessel. 'It now seems to me as if
the music were again approaching.'

'I fear it does not deceive you this time,' answered Dorn
significantly. At that moment a cry of fear and anguish arose along the
main street, and the worthy serjeant-at-arms of the city council was
seen breathlessly running toward the town-house.

'Whither with such haste?' cried Fessel to him from the window.

'God be merciful to us!' cried the serjeant. 'The soldiers have made a
halt at the Nieder-gate, have relieved and dismissed the burgher guard
there, and, turning to the left about, are now marching up the main
street.

'That indeed does not look much like passing through the city,' sighed
Fessel, closing the window. 'It rather indicates an intention to take
up permanent quarters here.'

'For the purpose of proselytism!' cried Dorn, despondingly. 'Now God be
merciful to me! For if these villains insult our women, I shall die no
natural death.'

He hastened forth, while Fessel remained standing at the window
awaiting the event in silent sadness.

The music of the Lichtensteins sounded nearer and nearer, and soon
their banners, muskets and halberds came