An amused smirk passed through the ranks of the town magnates. They enjoyed seeing the Landrath make a fool of himself, even if they themselves were made to look foolish in the process. "And you really haven't heard yet?" he stammered out, concealing his annoyance. "I have come straight from the remotest corner of Prussia, _Herr Landrath_." "You haven't heard that Napoleon has escaped from Elba, and that the King has again appealed to his gallant Prussian subjects to arm?" Boleslav felt a rush of mingled horror and joy flood his heart. So once more the world's history had absorbed the solution of his career in its own, and he would be saved further self-doubt and suspense with regard to it. His vast schemes, the work to which he was to consecrate his life, lay shattered at his feet scarcely begun, and now ended perhaps for ever. But away with all regrets and fears. Did not the Fatherland, _his_ Fatherland, call him? "Thank you, _Herr Landrath_," he said, while he endeavoured to still his wildly beating heart. "I feel honoured at your thinking so well of me and my contingent of Schrandeners. We will prove ourselves worthy of your high opinion, and in four-and-twenty hours be in readiness." The Landrath held out his hand. He retreated a step or two, and was in the act of repaying the Landrath in his own coin for the insult he had not long ago subjected him to. Then he reflected. The Fatherland calls you, and what is your petty hate or love weighed in the balance? And he seized the bony hand, which its owner, offended, had already withdrawn, and shook it heartily. Then he learnt further particulars. The evening before the King's proclamation, dated April 7, had reached Wartenstein. All night the administration had been hard at work getting the decrees ready for local heads of departments, and arranging to send out special mounted messengers to distribute them. "Will one be sent to Schranden?" asked Boleslav. "Certainly," was the answer. "Then may I add a military order?" "Yes, if you wish." He tore a sheet of paper from his pocket-book and hastily scribbled the following lines:-- "At five o'clock in the afternoon all troops liable to service are to muster in the churchyard square, bringing with them accoutrements and canteens. The hour for marching will then be stated. "Von Schranden, _Landwehr Captain_. "To the local administrator." "And what will become of Regina?" was a question that rose warningly within him. But he would not listen to it. He was almost delirious. The fever for action possessed him. He called his workpeople together, explained to them that he no longer needed their services, and bade each to return as quickly as possible to his native place, from there to join his respective company. He paid them off, and took leave of them with a shake of the hand and a blessing.