The liveliest scene, however, took place in the large barroom of the inn. The foremost men of the whole district, strong, well-built forms, with defiant faces and courageous bearing, had assembled there around Anthony Wallner-Aichberger. They spoke but little, but sat on the benches against the walls of the room, and stared into their glasses, which Eliza, Wallner's eldest daughter, filled again and again with beer. Even the young girl, who was usually so gay and spirited, seemed to-day sad and dejected. Formerly her merry laughter and clear, ringing voice were heard everywhere; to-day she was moody and taciturn. Formerly her checks glowed like purple roses, a charming arch expression played around her beautiful small mouth, and the fire and spirit of youth beamed from her large black eyes; to-day, only a faint crimson tinged Eliza's cheeks, her lips were firmly compressed, and her eyes were dim and lustreless. From time to time, while waiting on the guests, she cast an anxious, searching glance through the windows over the market-place, and seemed to listen to the hum of voices, which often became as deafening as the wild roar of the storm, and shook the window-panes. Anthony Wallner, her father, was likewise grave and anxious, and in walking to the groups of guests seated on the benches here and there, he glanced uneasily toward the windows. "It may be that they will not come, after all, Tony, and that the Viennese have fooled you," whispered old Thurnwalden from Meran to him. "I cannot comprehend it," sighed Anthony Wallner. "The insurrection was to break out on the 9th of April, and the Austrian troops were to cross the frontier on that day; and this was the reason why we have hitherto resisted the conscription and refused to pay the new taxes. But the 9th of April has come now, and we have received no message from Hofer or the Austrians." "And to-day the time which the Bavarians have given us is up," growled George Hinnthal; "if our young lads do not report voluntarily to the enrolling officers by this evening, they will be arrested to-morrow." "They shall not be arrested," exclaimed one of the Tyrolese, striking the table with his powerful fist. "No, they shall not be arrested," echoed all, in loud, defiant tones. "But you will not be able to prevent them," said old Thurnwalden, when all were silent again and had drunk a long draught from their glasses as if to confirm their words. "You know there is a whole company of soldiers at Castle Weissenstein, and Ulrich von Hohenberg, the castellan's nephew, is their captain. He is a Bavarian, body and soul, and, if we resist the authorities, he will lead his men with muskets and field-pieces against us."