The solitary house on the knoll, then, belonged to Andreas Hofer. It was the Gasthaus zum Sand, far famed throughout the Tyrol. And the passers-by were not mistaken. Andreas Hofer was at home, and had a great many guests at his house. On the benches of the large bar-room sat his guests, handsome Tyrolese, with flashing eyes and animated faces, which were all turned toward the Sandwirth, [Footnote: The name usually given to Hofer--"Sandwirth, landlord of the inn Zum Sand."] who was sitting on the small table yonder, and conversing in a low tone with his friends Eisenstecken and Sieberer. All the guests seemed excited and anxious; no one opened his mouth to utter merry jests; none of the gay songs so popular among the Tyrolese resounded; and the guests did not even venture to address playful remarks to Hofer's pretty daughters, who were gliding noiselessly through the room to fill the empty beer-glasses. "It seems," murmured Anthony Sieberer, "that the Austrian government has again postponed the matter, and we shall vainly look far the arrival of the message. This new delay puts an end to the whole movement." "I do not think so," said Hofer, gravely, and loud enough to be heard by all. "Do not despond, my dear friends! The Austrian government will assuredly keep its word, for the dear brave Archduke John promised me in the emperor's name that Austria would succor the Tyrolese, and send troops into our country, if we would be in readiness on the 9th of April to rise against the Bavarians. My dear friends, do you put no confidence, then, in the word of our excellent emperor and the good archduke, who has always loved us so dearly?" "No, no, we put implicit confidence in their word!" shouted the Tyrolese, with one accord. "The messenger will surely come, just have a little patience," added Hofer, with a pleasant nod; "the day is not yet at an end, and until midnight we may smoke yet many a pipe and drink many a glass of beer.--Anna Gertrude see to it that the glasses of the guests are always well filled." Anna Gertrude, a fine-looking matron of thirty-six, with florid cheeks and flashing hazel eyes, had just placed before her husband another jug, filled with foaming beer, and she nodded now to her Andy with a smile, showing two rows of faultless white teeth. "I and the girls will attend to the guests," she said, "but the men do not drink any thing. The glasses and jugs are all filled, but they do not empty them, and--Look! who comes there?" Andreas Hofer turned his head toward the door; then suddenly he uttered a cry of surprise and jumped up. "Halloo!" he exclaimed, "I believe this is the messenger whom we are looking for." And he pointed his outstretched arm at the small, dark form entering the room at this moment. "It is Major Teimer," he continued, joyfully; "I suppose you know yet our dear major of 1805?"