everely punished, and to be reduced again to the
condition from which seven years before it had broken away; such was the
dictum of the Austrian magnates. With the army came Landenberg, the
oppressive governor who had been set free on his oath never to return to
Switzerland. He was returning in defiance of his vow. With it are also
said to have been several of the family of Gessler, the tyrant who fell
beneath Tell's avenging arrow. The birds of prey were flying back, eager
to fatten on the body of slain liberty in Switzerland.

Up the mountains wound the serried band, proud in their panoply,
confident of easy victory, their voices ringing out in laughter and
disdain as they spoke of the swift vengeance that was about to fall on
the heads of the horde of rebel mountaineers. The duke was as gay and
confidant as any of his followers, as he proudly bestrode his noble
war-horse, and led the way up the mountain slopes towards the district
of Schwyz, the head-quarters of the base-born insurgents. He would
trample the insolent boors under his feet, he said, and had provided
himself with an abundant supply of ropes with which to hang the leaders
of the rebels, whom he counted on soon having in his power.

All was silent about them as they rode forward; the sun shone
brilliantly; it seemed like a pleasure excursion on which they were
bound.

"The locusts have crawled to their holes," said the duke, laughingly;
"we will have to stir them out with the points of our lances."

"The poor fools fancied that liberty was to be won by driving out one
governor and shooting another," answered a noble knight. "They will find
that the eagle of Hapsburg does not loose its hold so easily."

Their conversation ceased as they found themselves at the entrance to a
pass, through which the road up the mountains wound, a narrow avenue,
wedged in between hills and lakeside. The silence continued unbroken
around the rugged scene as the cavalry pushed in close ranks through the
pass, filling it, as they advanced, from side to side. They pushed
forward; beyond this pass of Morgarten they would find open land again
and the villages of the rebellious peasantry; here all was solitude and
a stillness that was almost depressing.

Suddenly the stillness was broken. From the rugged cliffs which bordered
the pass came a loud shout of defiance. But more alarming still was the
sound of descending rocks, which came plunging down the mountain side,
and in an