“Certainly, and without delay—to-morrow, in truth, else it may be too late,” replied the Captain quickly. “To-morrow? Impossible! We are all armed, it is true, but must wait for reënforcements from Ensisheim and other towns.” “Very well then, wait, and perish! But first listen to what I tell you. To-morrow morning you and your wives will be driven from the city to work in the trenches. Once gone, you with all the rest will be forbidden to reënter the gates; if you stay behind you will be slain. Your property will be divided among the foreign mercenaries, and your children perchance sent after you, should the spoilers see fit to spare them. Take tender leave to-night of Anne Marie and Peter. You may never see them again, Master Hans.” In answer to his anxious questions, Vögeli explained the extent and imminence of the danger. “But what would you advise us to do? We are not yet prepared to strike,” said Hans. “Trust to our help, my friend; it shall not fail you. Early in the morning, before the proclamation can be published, I will go to the Governor and once more demand of him the pay for my men. If he refuse, as he surely will, sound the great drum and be ready. We will take him prisoner.” “If that is done,” cried Hans joyfully, “you will have the city’s lasting gratitude. You may depend upon us to do our part. For some weeks we have had a secret understanding among ourselves, so that any news, good or bad, can be spread throughout the town like wildfire. I will see to that, but do not leave us in the lurch, sir Captain!” Vögeli repeated his assurances, and the two men parted with a firm hand-clasp, the one to seek his fellow citizens, the other to kindle the increased anger of his men, who were already quarrelling in a tavern over their discharge. The citizens spent an anxious night. Would the morrow bring freedom or ruin?—Scarce had the iron tongues of the bells sounded their first summons to the faithful, when Vögeli betook himself to Hagenbach’s quarters. The guard at the door refused to admit him, but Vögeli with one sweep of his muscular arm hurled the man aside and walked unannounced into the bedchamber of the Governor, who, reclining half dressed in a deep armchair, was meditating upon his plans for the day. His thoughts had just turned to Vögeli and he was debating whether it would not be best to have him placed under immediate arrest, when suddenly the Captain himself stood before him. “In God’s name, Vögeli,” he shouted, “what are you doing here at this hour? and why do you enter unannounced? In future wait till you are summoned.” The veins on his forehead swelled and his voice shook with rage. But Vögeli did not move. “Be not angry with me, my lord,” he said. “I come not of my own will, nor on my own errand; but my men will give me no peace.” “Send them to the Evil One, whose children they are!” roared the Governor.