Thoughtfully Vögeli took his way back to the dwelling of his friendly host, Hans Wild, where a cordial reception awaited him. The children came running out to meet the soldier guest who could tell such fine tales of war and adventure, and hailed him with shouts of joy; but to-night he was gloomy and silent and paid no heed to them. Tearfully the little ones hastened to their mother, who chided them gently for troubling the Captain, although she herself was concerned at his appearance, as he moodily bade her good-evening. Woman-like, she endeavored by kindly questioning to discover the cause of his trouble, and abused the Governor for denying his officers an Easter holiday, but all to no purpose; Vögeli continued in a silent and gloomy mood. Indeed, when Frau Katharine pressed him too closely his brow grew so dark that saucy little Anne Marie cried out: “Oh see, mother! What an old growler he looks like! He is not so nice after all. The Duke is wicked, and the Governor is wicked, and now the Captain looks as if he wanted to eat us all up, you and me and little Peter too!” The mother would have punished the child for her pertness, but she fled for protection to Vögeli, who stroked her smooth yellow locks as he pacified Frau Katharine. “Children know not what they say,” he graciously declared. “Alas! did we elders but know always what was best to do or say—No!” he cried out suddenly, “I will not do it, come what may!” And he brought his fist down on the table with such force that the dishes rattled and Anne Marie and her mother looked at each other in surprise. At that moment Hans Wild, a respectable rope-maker, entered. “Let your family leave the room,” commanded Vögeli sternly. “I must speak with you alone.” “God help us!” wailed Frau Katharine, “our lives must be at stake. It is true that my good husband went to the minister and did not lay aside all his arms; but be merciful to him, sir! Surely he is not more to blame than the other citizens.” “If it be a sin to fulfil an honest man’s duty toward the welfare of our good city, then I am guilty,” said Hans calmly. “Proceed! God sends no man more than he can bear, and the God of our fathers still lives, despite Hagenbach and his Duke.” When the door was closed, Vögeli approached his host and held out his hand, saying: “You have a stout heart, I know; how is it with the other citizens?” Hans gave him a searching glance. “Doubtless through you the Governor seeks to find me out and ruin me. But this I tell you frankly: you may do with me as you will; but when the others strike, the blow will be a cruel one.” Vögeli smiled kindly. “Rest assured, my friend, I mean you no harm. But since you are already so certain of success, perchance you will not need the aid of myself and my two hundred men—should you come to blows.” “What!” cried Master Hans, in astonishment, “do you mean that you would help us?”