izingly. 'I've got a
safe-conduct.'

'Where is it?' asked Prieme, looking at him in astonishment. 'I can't
see one.'

'Here it is all right,' said Conrad producing it. 'Can you read?'

'What stupid rubbish!' muttered Prieme. 'Now, how can a scrap of paper
like that be a safe-conduct? Why, a safe-conduct is a sort of thing
that even the most savage enemy is forced to respect. Why, who told
you such a pack of nonsense as that?'

Either because his tumble had muddled his brains, or for some other
reason best known to himself, Conrad straightway cast all his
stepfather's cautions to the winds, and told neighbour Prieme the whole
story of the safe-conduct and why he was there.

'This seems to me rather serious,' said the worthy citizen, speaking
half to himself. 'To be sure your stepfather is, in a manner of
speaking, a bit of a magistrate; but then we all know how people we
should never have expected--why, there was the Burgomaster of Bautzen
was loaded into a cannon and fired off for trying to betray his native
city to the enemy. At all events, Juechziger can have no right to
correspond with the Swedes without the commandant's knowledge. So give
me that thing over here directly.'

Conrad protested against the abrupt demand, and, suddenly calling to
mind his stepfather's forgotten orders, made a frantic attempt to hide
the safe-conduct in his breast again. Master Prieme's strong arm would
soon have gained the day, however, and deprived the boy of his paper,
had not the arrival of a troop of the enemy put a sudend [Transcriber's
note: sudden?] stop to their altercation.

Master Prieme, taken with a weapon in his hand, was made a prisoner of
war; and Conrad Schmidt, loudly calling attention to his safe-conduct,
was at once marched off to the enemy's headquarters.

Here he had a first-rate opportunity to make nearer acquaintance with
the dreaded Swedes. He was led about from one point to another. He
saw the batteries, mortars, and siege-guns that were destroying his
native town; he saw whole regiments of Swedes; but to his immense
consolation he did not see any of those men who tortured people and
slaughtered little children. In front of Marshal Torstenson's quarters
a huge cask of wine was being unloaded, a task in which several
peasants were forced to render unwilling aid. When their work was
done, however, they got off with nothing worse than a few cuffs. He
saw, indeed, plenty of great beards and m