Part 25 (1/2)

But it was not Barlasch. It was a woman who staggered past under a burden of firewood which she had collected in the woods of Schottland, and did not dare to carry through the streets by day.

At last the clocks struck six, and, soon after, Lisa's heavy footstep made the stairs creak and crack.

Desiree went downstairs before daylight. She could hear Mathilde astir in her room, and the light of candles was visible under her door.

Desiree busied herself with household affairs.

”I have not slept,” said Lisa bluntly, ”for thinking that your husband might return, and fearing that we should make him wait in the street.

But without doubt you would have heard him.”

”Yes, I should have heard him.”

”If it had been my husband, I should have been at the window all night,”

said Lisa, with a gay laugh--and Desiree laughed too.

Mathilde seemed a long time in coming, and when at length she appeared Desiree could scarcely repress a movement of surprise. Mathilde was dressed, all in her best, as for a fete.

At breakfast Lisa brought the news told to her at the door that the Governor would re-enter the city in state with his staff at midday. The citizens were invited to decorate their streets, and to gather there to welcome the returning garrison.

”And the citizens will accept the invitation,” commented Sebastian, with a curt laugh. ”All the world has sneered at Russia since the Empire existed--and yet it has to learn from Moscow what part a citizen may play in war. These good Dantzigers will accept the invitation.”

And he was right. For one reason or another the city did honour to Rapp.

Even the Poles must have known by now that France had made tools of them. But as yet they could not realize that Napoleon had fallen. There were doubtless many spies in the streets that cold December day--one who listened for Napoleon; and another, peeping to this side and that, for the King of Prussia. Sweden also would need to know what Dantzig thought, and Russia must not be ignorant of the gossip in a great Baltic port.

Enveloped in their stiff sheepskins, concealed by the high collars which reached to the brim of their hats--showing nothing but eyes where the rime made old faces and young all alike, it was difficult for any to judge of his neighbour--whether he were Pole or Prussian, Dantziger or Swede. The women in thick shawls, with hoods or scarves concealing their faces, stood silently beside their husbands. It was only the children who asked a thousand questions, and got never an answer from the cautious descendants of a Hanseatic people.

”Is it the French or the Russians that are coming?” asked a child near to Desiree.

”Both,” was the answer.

”But which will come first?”

”Wait and see--silentium,” replied the careful Dantziger, looking over his shoulder.

Desiree had changed her clothes, and wore beneath her furs the dress that had been prepared for the journey to Zoppot so long ago. Mathilde had noticed the dress, which had not been seen for six months. Lisa, more loquacious, nodded to it as to a friend when helping Desiree with her furs.

”You have changed,” she said, ”since you last wore it.”

”I have grown older--and fatter,” answered Desiree cheerfully.

And Lisa, who had no imagination, seemed satisfied with the explanation.

But the change was in Desiree's eyes.

With Sebastian's permission--almost at his suggestion--they had selected the Grune Brucke as the point from which to see the sight. This bridge spans the Mottlau at the entrance to the Langenmarkt, and the roadway widens before it narrows again to pa.s.s beneath the Grunes Thor. There is rising ground where the road spreads like a fan, and here they could see and be seen.

”Let us hope,” said Sebastian, ”that two of these gentlemen may perceive you as they pa.s.s.”

But he did not offer to accompany them.

By half-past eleven the streets were full. The citizens knew their governor, it seemed. He would not keep them waiting. Although Rapp lacked that power of appealing to the imagination which has survived Napoleon's death with such astounding vitality that it moves men's minds to-day as surely as it did a hundred years ago, he was shrewd enough to make use of his master's methods when such would seem to serve his purpose. He was not going to creep into Dantzig like a whipped dog into his kennel.