stle, and at a place called the Hollow Way
it became very narrow, and the banks rose steep and rugged on either
side. There Tell made up his mind to wait for Gessler. There he meant
to free his country from the cruel tyrant.

Without stopping for food or rest, Tell hurried through the woods
until he came to the Hollow Way. There he waited and watched. Many
people passed along the road. There were herds with their flocks, and
travelers of all kinds, among them a poor woman whose husband had
been put in prison by Gessler, so that now she had no home, and had to
wander about with her children begging. She stopped and spoke to Tell,
and the story she told of Gessler's cruelty made Tell's heart burn
with anger, and made him more sure than ever that the deed he meant to
do was just and right.

The day went on, and still Gessler did not come, and still Tell
waited. At last he heard the distant tramp of feet and the sound of
voices. Surely he had come at last. But as the sounds came nearer,
Tell knew that it could not be Gessler, for he heard music and
laughter, and through the Hollow Way came a gaily dressed crowd. It
was a wedding-party. Laughing and merry, the bride and bridegroom
with their friends passed along. When they were out of sight the wind
brought back the sound of their merry voices to Tell, as he waited
upon the bank. They, at least, had for a time forgotten Gessler.

At last, as the sun was setting, Tell heard the tramp of horses, and a
herald dashed along the road, shouting, "Room for the governor. Room,
I say."

As Gessler came slowly on behind, Tell could hear him talking in a
loud and angry voice to a friend. "Obedience I will have," he was
saying. "I have been far too mild a ruler over this people. They grow
too proud. But I will break their pride. Let them prate of freedom,
indeed. I will crush--" The sentence was never finished. An arrow
whizzed through the air, and with a groan Gessler fell, dead.

Tell's second arrow had found its mark.

Immediately everything was in confusion. Gessler's soldiers crowded
round, trying to do something for their master. But it was useless. He
was dead. Tell's aim had been true.

"Who has done this foul murder?" cried one of Gessler's friends,
looking round.

"The shot was mine," answered Tell, from where he stood on the high
bank. "But no murder have I done. I have but freed an unoffending
people from a base and cowardly tyrant. My cause is just, let God be
the