"I am, still," lisped the carpenter. "Ha, ha!--pardon my laughing, old fellow. To begin with, you don't even know what you've done with your gun." "But--I do." "And besides, your hand has become too slack, and your honour has evaporated, and your courage with it." The carpenter laughed. An evil light gleamed in the corners of his eyes. "What? You would maintain that you have a spark of honour left in your composition when you submit without a murmur to your daughter being brought to shame? And what's more, you can bear to see her and her seducer at large. Didn't she, your own flesh and blood, scorn you and slap away your proffered hand? Ungrateful, disrespectful wench that she is!" The carpenter staggered to his feet. "No one follow me," he roared, and shook his fist "Where are you going?" "That's no business of any one's." The Schrandeners, even in their wrath, could not resist making fun of the drunkard, but Merckel signed to them to let him go in peace. "He is going to scratch up his gun from the dungheap," he explained. "Still, what good will it do?" he added with a sigh, while his eyes wandered uneasily to the door. "He'll take care not to deliver himself into our hands at night. Tomorrow, at dawn of day, he'll come, when none of you can defend yourselves, and hand you over to your executioners, along with my son Felix, and none of you will see Schranden again. So drink your last, children--take leave of old Father Merckel---- Ah! there comes Amalie," he said, interrupting himself, and the lackadaisical expression of his face changed to one of cheerful expectancy. The door was thrown open, and Amalie burst in greatly excited. She whispered something hurriedly in his ear. He beamed, and folded his fat hands as if in prayer. "Children," he cried, "there is yet a judge in Heaven. The Baron is in the village." The Schrandeners rose from their seats yelling with delight. "Where is he? Who has seen him?" "Tell them, Amalie!" he urged the barmaid, and sank back exhausted, like a person who is satisfied that his day's work is done. And Amalie told them. She had waited till the men on guard had finished their beer, and had taken a little stroll in the moonlight to get a breath of fresh air. Then she had seen a man coming across the fields from the Cats' Bridge. He was going in the direction of the churchyard, and wore an officer's coat with scarlet collar and gold buttons. "Was he armed?" inquired a cautious son of Schranden. Yes; she had seen his sabre flash in the moonlight. This information afforded food for reflection. "He has gone to inspect the guard," suggested some one, scratching his head. Herr Merckel laughed ironically.