"Well, I don't know about that," said Franz, running his fingers through his rough hair; "but no good came of it to him this time, at any rate. He had already got two bullets in his body, they say; but as soon as his house was attacked, he rushed forth, waving his sword over his head. A third ball then struck him near the heart; blood came out of his mouth, and down he came upon his knees. Some of our men hastened up to take him prisoner; he turns about his head, and faintly calls to his men, 'You dogs, don't be cowards,' or something to that purpose; and evidently did not even then give in. Whizz! comes another bullet, which hits him in the head, and lays him along the ground." "Well, Franz, he died like a soldier--" "Mother, he isn't dead yet--Don't you hurry me--We then captured him and carried him off to the guard-house--" "_You?_" "Not exactly I, but our people. And there, as he lay, ready to die from loss of blood, says he to one of our fellows--Rudolf, in fact,--'Who is your leader, young man?'--'We've none in particular,' says Rudolf,--which was true enough, only he needed not to have exposed us so, just then, for no good, to a man of the Colonel's quality, who, of course, thought it very despicable of us. If I'd been Rudolf, I'd have clapped a dozen names together, mother, and said 'that's our commander.'" "Then thou wouldst have been a fool, Franz,--and thou art little better. Well, is that all?" "No--'We've no chief in particular,' says Rudolf--the ninny!--'We all,' says he, 'fight for God,' says he, 'and for our Emperor, and our fatherland,' says he. 'One for all, and all for one,' says he." "Ah, as long as folks will do that last," said the old woman, sighing, "they're sure to win the day. But their evil tempers, and evil passions, and piques, and private interests, tugging at their hearts like so many evil spirits, part them asunder; and then the Evil One laughs!" "Well," said Franz, "all that's beyond me; and you can't expect a young fellow just come from such a stirring scene, to be much in the humour for preaching: but, however, you haven't heard all yet. Colonel Dittfurt could not make this out--(no wonder!)--it would have made him think very small of us, if he had. 'Well,' says he, 'I can't believe that, young man; for I've _seen_ your Commander-in-Chief,' says he, 'frequently rallying you to-day,' says he, 'and rushing past me on a milk-white horse,' says he. Well; when that got about, somebody wiser than the rest said dying men could often see further than others into the spirit-world; and that, 'twas very likely, one of the saints, of a martial turn, had really headed us, though invisibly; and that therefore it was most agreeable to reason to suppose it was St. James." "St. James? why St. James?" said the old woman slowly. "Was he a fighting man?" "There you pose me," replied Franz; "but, you see, he's the patron saint of the city!" "Ah, that explains!" said his mother. "And did the Colonel die upon that?"