"Ah!" with a grimace. Stumff laughed. "What of them?" said he. "Too little dress--too much exposure." "Why, there's no satisfying you, Sandwirth." "Oh, yes," said he, smiling. "One play has satisfied me--I don't want to go again." "Your daughter would like it," said Alouise, decisively. "I should not wish to give her a taste for such things," said Hofer. "She is perfectly content as she is." "And that's more than I can say of _my_ girl sometimes," said Stumff, with a smile and a shrug, as Alouise left them for a few minutes. "I wonder," said Hofer, after a short silence, "that you let _her_ go to the theatre." "I should be considered quite a bear, not only by her, but by all Innsbruck, if I denied her," said Stumff. "No, no, Sandwirth,--we town-folks are not quite the same with you village-folks,--it does our girls no hurt, I believe--or, if it does, we can't help it. And now, as you seem tired, I'll show you your bed. What! you must take your dearly-beloved rifle along with you, hey? Ha, ha!" [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER VIII. STILL SUCCESSFUL. When Michael Stumff came down to breakfast the next morning, he looked round for his guest in vain. "Where's the Sandwirth?" said he to Alouise. "Half way to the Brenner, I suppose," said Alouise. "Why, father, you must have slept heavily, if you did not hear the uproar this morning! The alarm-bells began to ring before it was light, and a dozen country fellows came running down the street, bawling 'Sandwirth! Sandwirth!' Open flew the Sandwirth's window; he gives a _jödel_[1] that might be heard a mile off, which makes them stop short. 'Here I am, my boys,' cries he, 'what's the matter?' The next moment they were all under his window. 'Speckbacher took Halle yesterday!' cries one. 'Hurra!' cries Hofer. 'But the French and Bavarians are coming down upon us from the Brenner,' cries another. 'Aha! then we'll go to meet them,' cries Hofer; 'I'll be with you this minute.' And his door flew open. I just popped my head out of mine, and said, 'Sandwirth, I'll be down directly, if you will wait for some breakfast.' 'No time, thank you,' replied he, running along the gallery. 'Just one cup of coffee!' cried I. 'No, dear; we are going to breakfast on gunpowder,' says he, laughing: and so off. Dear me, it quite set my heart a-beating; it was all in such a moment. Who knows? Perhaps the Bavarians may be masters of Innsbruck again, before nightfall, father?" "There's no knowing, child." "I don't know that I could have done less than ask the Sandwirth home, father, when I saw him last night, standing about, in the lobby, looking quite puzzled."