Part 26 (1/2)

”Good-morning, Baron Discher. I owe you an explanation.”

”I did not know it.”

”I refused you as a juryman, through my attorney. I know you are a just man.”

”Thank you.”

”I only refused you because it would be pleasanter for you not to have to sit on a jury in such hot weather.”

The Baron laughed and held the k.n.o.b of his riding-whip to his mouth; then he said, ”Good-morning,” gave his horse the spur, and rode on.

A presentiment of the reception he was exposing himself to came over Landolin. He wanted to turn back: there was no necessity for his presence at the festival; but he was ashamed for his family to see him so irresolute. Peter is, then, in the right in having taken the reins from his hand. He went toward the town with long strides. Gunshots echoed, multiplying themselves in the wood through which he was pa.s.sing, for the dedication of the flag was just beginning in the church.

Landolin moderated his step; indeed he sat down on the side of the road; he had already missed the chief solemnity, and could take his ease. The coach came up from the railway station. The driver asked Landolin if he would ride. Landolin was tired, and it was a good opportunity for returning; but he refused as if something drove him to the city. He laughed at himself as he recollected that in his childhood the May-meadow had been a place of execution. What can happen to him?

He is acquitted, free, and in all honor.

Now clear trumpet-notes sounded from the upper town. Landolin hastened his steps--not to miss the procession.

CHAPTER XLVII.

Up and down the valley, in all the villages of the district, there was busy life on this Sunday morning. The children on the street announced to one another that they too were going. Not a few were exceedingly proud, for soldiers' caps had been given them; and many a father was persuaded into promising his son that he would buy him one, too. The youth of the whole district seemed to have caught a martial enthusiasm.

The men of the fire-companies, in glittering helmets, gray linen coats, and red belts, a.s.sembled before the court-house. They formed in line, the signals were sounded; and they marched out, accompanied by an escort of men, women, and children. They stopped at the forest to put green twigs in their caps. The children shouted, the old people walked thoughtfully along, and the maids and matrons, in their Sunday dress, whispered to one another.

As the little mountain-rivulets flow down to the river in the valley, so to-day, the stream of humanity rose, and flowed down the roads and foot-paths, to the May-meadow near the city.

But there were few of the old peasant-costumes to be seen among the men. Military service and the railroads do away with that, and efface the many distinguishable differences between village and city. But in still another manner a new ground of equality is established. This marching side by side, and especially the election of the officers of the soldiers' a.s.sociations and fire companies, bring about an equalization or readjustment of the former cla.s.sification. To be sure the captain of the organization was the district forester, but Anton Armbruster was unanimously chosen lieutenant; and the son of the district physician, who was a merchant, and a member of the a.s.sociation, had cast his vote for Anton.

Landolin reached the valley in good season. The May-meadow on which the procession was to disband, where tables were arranged, and a green platform put up for the speakers, was kept clear by the young pupils of the Gymnasium.

The women and young girls, with their white ap.r.o.ns and gay caps, sat in rows and groups in the outer meadow near the forest, and some daring boys had climbed the linden trees, which to-day sent out a strong fragrance.

”They are coming! They are coming!” was heard among the waiting crowd; and the music of the trumpets at the head of the column was drowned by the hurrahs which arose from the people on the hollow slope of the meadow, and in the trees.

Landolin stood on the edge of the crowd, near the students, and was surrounded by a group of people who seemed not to know him.

The procession drew nearer. The band struck up one of the national hymns, and all the people joined in singing.

”Who is carrying the flag? Why, that is not the miller's Anton--where is he? I don't see him. He isn't there at all.”

These words Landolin heard from the people behind him, and a feeling of terror came over him. He had intended to walk by Anton's side, and show the whole world on what friendly terms he was with the man who was so highly honored. Now Landolin felt as though his protector had forsaken him. He strained his eyes to see if Anton was not there after all, but he was not to be seen.

”See the lieutenant there. That is the son of the district judge--it was good of him to get a furlough to come to the celebration. Yes; he has inherited his good disposition from his parents; his mother in particular.”

Thus the people around Landolin were talking. Then he heard a person who had just come up say: