gulden a week and two
pounds of bread a day?' continued Juechziger in an injured tone; 'or
that on this very New Year's Day, eight hundred Freiberg citizens
should tear up the pavement in the streets of their own city to protect
the houses from the Swedish cannon? Do you know, respected Herr
Burgomaster, that that young Swedish turncoat who was so impudent to
you in the St. Peter's Tower, and demanded to be made a citizen, has
been admitted by the commandant into the City Guard, contrary to all
custom and right? Who will guarantee that the pretended Saxon is not
really a spy, plotting to betray the city into the hands of the Swedes
the first chance he gets?'

'Is this really so?' asked Schoenleben with displeasure.

'If you doubt my word, your worship can easily see for yourself,'
replied Juechziger. 'The fellow struts about the streets every day in
his Defensioner's uniform, until he nearly runs himself off his legs.'

'Tell Badehorn, the captain of the City Guard, to meet me here in an
hour's time,' said Schoenleben angrily; 'and bid him be ready to explain
why he has admitted a stranger among his men in this irregular way.'

'The soldier,' continued Juechziger, 'risks nothing in war but just his
life. The citizen risks a great deal more, for he has a wife and
children, hearth and home. When a town is taken, the soldiers are
either made prisoners of war or allowed to march out unhurt; it is into
the citizen's house that the enemy comes, to ill-use his wife,
children, and servants. These Swedes now are pressing the siege of our
town so hard that we cannot possibly hold out for long. They say that
even if Torstenson offers us fair terms, the commandant means to refuse
them without even asking your worship anything about it, and so to give
the town up to be stormed and pillaged. Now I, in my humble way,
should have thought your worship's voice ought to count for something
in this matter. Your worship knows what is for the good of the town a
great deal better than a soldier of fortune that has only been here a
few weeks.'

The Burgomaster made no reply. His thoughtful air, however, as he
stood absently drumming on the window-pane, showed that the
mischief-maker had not spoken in vain. By way of striking while the
iron was hot, Juechziger continued: 'As I was on my way to your
worship's house this morning, I saw the Herr Burgomaster Richzenhayn
going to call on the commandant, no doubt meaning to offer him