Three months had passed since the petition had been sent to the judicial authorities of the province, and even the most zealous patriots had begun to despair of its producing any results. Then at last had come the delightful intimation from the office of the Landrath, that a day had been appointed to wind up the case of the Crown _v_. Schranden, _alias_ Baumgart, and the presence of the petitioners was urgently requested at the inquiry. The Schrandeners had armed themselves in a way worthy of the occasion. For three days they had been busy polishing up their accoutrements. Those among the disbanded Landwehr-men who still possessed their _Litewka_ had donned it, and pikes and sabres were seen in the crowd. Possibly they might be called upon to help in an instantaneous administration of justice. The Landrath's sleigh had entered the village at one o'clock, and, as was customary, put up at the parsonage stable, where Herr Merckel and his son stood ready to welcome the high functionary. There was no gendarme on the box, which greatly mystified the Schrandeners. But perhaps the services of one were not required when they could be depended on to despatch the criminal at the first signal. Shortly before two, the Landrath, accompanied by the old pastor, left the parsonage and entered the inn by a side door, where Herr Merckel, senior, again was to the fore to receive him, while Felix slouched in the background, piqued at not being treated with what he considered sufficient respect by the civilian. The Landrath von Krotkeim was a tall, extremely slender man, whose hoary leonine head rose with great effect from his contracted, sloping shoulders. There was something awe-inspiring in its pose. He wore, in defiance of the fashion of the period, long whiskers, which flowed behind his ears, mingling with his thick iron-grey mane.