'It appears so, answered Hanslein; 'Whoever is placed at the head by popular commotions, must himself be a bold demagogue who has no property, character or conscience to lose. To leap over every obstacle and ward off every danger by the destruction of a dozen or two of his fellow men, is nothing at all to him. People like you, my brother, would make right good leaders, for which nothing is really requisite but vigor, honesty and sound sense; but honest people draw back from such opportunities from a want of self confidence, and thereby give the devils free scope to do evil, which is very wrong!' Alf, reminded by this conversation of Tuiskoshirer's rejected crown, and of old Fabricius's prophecy, at last sorrowfully exclaimed, 'in an unhappy hour came I home, to my native city!' and proceeded to join the guard. CHAPTER XI. The next morning, when Alf's guard was relieved, he marched his men by the market place. Horrible was the sight which there awaited him. The square before St. Lambert's church was converted into an immense slaughter yard, and filled with human flesh. A great number of unfortunates were bound to stakes and shot through; a part of whom had bled out their lives, and a part were still writhing and twisting in the agonies of the death struggle. Others lay upon the bloody pavement, some hacked to pieces with the sword and some beheaded, The ranting Knipperdolling in his robes of office, his face flushed, with naked and blood-sprinkled arms, was continually and unweariedly swinging his broad executioner's sword over victims, who, either voluntarily or forced by armed men, were kneeling before him. 'Left wheel!' commanded Alf, averting his eyes; and he led his men through side-streets and by-ways to the company's parade ground. As the men were separating, and Alf proceeding to his own quarters, he was met by poor Clara, who came to him, her eyes red with weeping, and with despair depicted on her countenance. 'Will you grant me a private conversation?' said she; 'it concerns my life--and though you may deem that of little consequence, still your heart is too good not to feel a sympathy for an unfortunate being, whose last hope is in your protection.' 'In God's name, what is going forward?' asked Alf, alarmed, leading the maiden into the garden adjoining the house. 'Speak, dear Clara, and open your heart to me. My blood for thee!'