“But, after all, you’re the master. Why, you’re the king of everything in the place! You must put on a bold face, and stand firm!”
With wrathful strides, his head well thrown back, and his hand resting on the front of his ample waistcoat, Bloemstein entered his own house.
Marieke sprang to meet him, embraced him cordially, and then said, “Father, I’ve just had a letter from Heinrich, he’s coming to dinner with us to-morrow.”
“I’m very sorry, child; but this marriage with the Prussian doctor can’t come to anything. I’ve another husband for you. You’re to marry my Minister of the Interior.”
“The crooked tailor! what a joke! I didn’t know you could be so funny, father!”
“It’s no joke; it’s quite serious, Marieke!” and he recounted all that had taken place at the meeting.
Marieke, however, was not convinced. “I won’t have him!” she cried, and stamped her little foot on the ground;—“and if you say I must, I’ll never marry at all!—there! ... I’ll go and tell mother about it!”
Bloemstein did not await the arrival of his better half. Under pretext of urgent business, the ruler of all Altenet, except his own house, hastily escaped up the street, and did not return home till late in the evening.
On the following day—it was Sunday—all Altenet was clean turned upside down.
Bauer had summoned all his riflemen, as soon as high mass was over, and they assembled in full uniform at the tavern kept by the Minister of Finance.
In a vigorous and pithy speech,—which he had been thinking over all night,—he explained to his troops the danger which threatened the country.
His manly language carried his audience with him. The shout, “We’ll conquer or die!” raised by the Minister of War, was loudly echoed by every one; and in order still further to raise their courage, they all added, “Another drop all round!” which was poured out by the Minister of Finance in his shirt-sleeves, and with fingers trembling with emotion.
“And now,” yelled Bauer, “we’re going to make a military march along the Prussian frontier, and then all that _canaille_ can see that we’re not afraid of them. Marbaise—you with the drum, your eldest boy with the accordeon, and the other with the trumpet in front,—you three are the band. Then you, Ummels, with the flag; and you, Gradus, with the bird; and then we, the people!”