‘A fight there will be,’ said the soldier; ‘a fight of tongues and hard words. Tongues for swords, hard words for bullets. Did you ever hear how we managed to gain our liberty in my country? I tell you that was not with speeches, but with blows. I doubt if your States-General will do much. I do not think much of talking, I like action.’ ‘And are you free in Switzerland?’ asked Percenez. ‘Yes,’ answered Deschwanden, ‘we are free. We gained our liberty by our swords. Our brave land was subject to the despotic rule of the Duke of Austria, and we were reduced to much the same condition as you French are now. We paid taxes which were exorbitant, we were crushed by the privileged classes, and robbed of the just reward of our toil. Then Arnold of Melchthal, Werner Stauffacher, and Walter Fürst formed the resolution to resist, and lead the people to revolt, and so they threw off the yoke and became free.’ ‘Father,’ said Nicholas, ‘do you remember the inn of the Confederates on the lake, with their figures painted on the white wall, five times the size of life?’ ‘Ah so!’ exclaimed the corporal; ‘have I not drunk on the balcony of that same inn over against Grütli? Have I not seen the three fountains that bubbled up where the Confederates stood and joined hands and swore to liberate their country from the oppression of their Austrian governors, to be faithful to each other, and to be righteous in executing their judgments on the tyrants?’ The old man brushed up the hair on either side of his head, rose to his feet, filled his tumbler with wine, and waving it above his head, exclaimed joyously: ‘Here is to the memory of Arnold of Melchthal, Werner Stauffacher, and Walter Fürst!’ Percenez and young Nicholas drank, standing. ‘Did you ever hear,’ continued the soldier, reseating himself, ‘how William Tell refused to bow to the ducal cap set up on a pole, the badge of servitude, and how the governor--his name was Gessler--bade the valiant archer shoot an apple off his son’s head?’ ‘I have heard the story,’ said the colporteur. ‘And I have seen the place,’ cried Nicholas; ‘have I not, father?’ ‘We have both seen the very spot where the glorious William stood, and where grew the tree against which the lad was placed. The square is no more. Houses have invaded it, so that now Tell could not send an arrow from his standing-point to the site of the tree. Ah! he was a great liberator of his country, was Tell. Fill your glasses, friends! To William Tell!’ He rubbed up his hair, rose to his feet, and drained his glass again.