THE INTERRUPTED FESTIVAL.
Gotzkowsky had as yet received no intelligence of the danger which
threatened the town, and was enjoying the festival in his garden in
the midst of his people.
They were all collected on a grass-plat for target-shooting. In the
midst of the plat rose a pole with a target. The women and girls were
standing around, attentively and curiously watching the men, who,
collected under a tent, were shooting with crossbows at the target.
Every lucky shot was greeted with a cheer, every unlucky one with
derisive laughter; and the prizes which were assigned to the fortunate
marksmen only served to increase the joy and merriment of the happy
crowd.
Suddenly loud cries of weeping and lamentation were heard from a
distance. The people looked at each other with anxiety and alarm. The
dismal noise came nearer and still nearer, and then appeared at the
entrance gate near by the strange and wild figure of the linen-weaver,
accompanied by the two editors, Krause and Kretschmer.
"Pfannenstiel! it is Pfannenstiel, our prophet!" shouted the crowd,
while they hastened with joyous laughter and words of greeting toward
their beloved seer.
The linen-weaver strode forward with a serious and majestic air,
answering the greetings of the workmen with patronizing nods, and
from time to time stretching out his hand as if to bless them. The
multitude crowded around him, and seemed to look upon the advent
of the prophet as part of the programme of the entertainment. But
Gotzkowsky hastened toward the two editors with a cheerful smile,
bidding them a courteous welcome. They responded to his friendly
greeting with a solemn earnestness, and requested a conference with
a mysterious and important air. Gotzkowsky looked at them with
astonishment; but as he read in their countenances an expression of
deep and anxious concern, he motioned to them and preceded them to a
summer-house on the other side of the lawn.
"Here we can talk without being observed," said he, casting a look
across at his workmen. "You see my guests are still busy with the
scarecrow which you brought here; and what business has this man,
indeed, among merry people?"
"He maintains that God ordered him to come to you, to warn you in His
name, and call upon you to protect Berlin," said Krause.
"Yes," continued Kretschmer, "and he entreated us to accompany him,
trusting to our influence with our dear friend."
Gotzkowsky looked at both of the men with astonishment. "Tell me, my
worthy friends, which of us is crazy?" asked he, smiling, partly in
derision, partly in pity. "I am called on to protect Berlin, and from
what?"
"Because the Russians are coming," said Mr. Krause, solemnly.
Gotzkowsky shrugged his shoulders. "That is an idle rumor," said he;
"two days ago they were still in Frankfort. You see, therefore, that
some wag has amused himself by teasing you and frightening you a
little for the thunderbolts which you two, and particularly the
_Vossian Gazette_, have launched against the Russians."
Mr. Kretschmer shuddered and turned pale. "I beg you," cried he, "do
not speak of it! Good Heavens! the _Vossian Gazette_ is the organ of
the popular mind, and it is its duty to take each day the exact tone
of public opinion. I abused the Russians, therefore, because--"
"Because they were still a hundred miles from Berlin. Oh, yes! we know
you, gentlemen of the press. You are full of courage as long as no
enemy is in the field, but as soon as you scent him and see the points
of his lances, you become quite humble and mild; and when he comes
threateningly down upon you, assure him of your respect and swear to
him that you love him," interrupted Gotzkowsky.
"You are pleased to jest," said Mr. Krause, casting a rapid glance of
hatred at Gotzkowsky; "it is well, indeed, that the rich and powerful
Gotzkowsky is so cheerful. I will notice it in my journal. It is news
for 'Change, and the funds will rise when people hear that Gotzkowsky
has laughed."
Gotzkowsky's countenance became sad and serious. "You may tell the
world," said he, "that my lips laugh; but how my heart feels, that you
gossips and newspapers know nothing about."
"God be praised," said Kretschmer, ironically, "you are now
talking earnestly, and I can request you to listen to our serious
representations. It is no idle rumor that I have told you. The
Russians are already at the gates of Berlin. They have hurried thither
by forced marches. This news is no longer a secret. All Berlin knows
it, and it is only accidentally that you have not learned it earlier."
"Oh, Heavens!" sobbed Krause, wringing his hands, "what a terrible
fate awaits our unfortunate town!"
Gotzkowsky looked at him with a gloomy frown. "You are, it is true, an
old man," said he, "but even old men should, at such a time, possess
some manhood. But you, Mr. Kretschmer, are young and hearty; what do
you say to this approach of the Russians?"
"I say," replied Kretschmer, sharply, "I say that it would be madness
to excite the wrath of the enemy by resistance. I say, that those
citizens who call on the people to fight are rash fools."
"Oh!" cried Gotzkowsky, joyfully, "if there be any such _rash fools_,
then all is not lost!"
"Can you comprehend such madness?" whispered Krause, "to wish to
oppose an overwhelming force while all our capable men and youths
are with the army in Silesia, and we have no troops but the sick and
maimed; no artillery save two old rusty cannon?"
"A people willing to fight for liberty," cried Gotzkowsky, "such a
people have the strength of a giant even without cannon and bayonets.
God has given them hands and paving-stones. If we cannot shoot down
the enemy who threatens our liberty, we can beat him down."
"What do you say?" stammered Krause, looking with amazement at
Gotzkowsky's glowing countenance.
"I say," said Gotzkowsky, "that you have mistaken your man. I will not
advise the brave Berlin people to yield without having at least fought
for their freedom."
"But only reflect!" exclaimed Kretschmer, while Krause paced up
and down, wringing his hands and moaning in a low tone; "have you
forgotten that the Russian generals have proclaimed that the
empress has commanded them to leave nothing but air and earth to the
inhabitants of every conquered town and province of Prussia?"
"Oh, pshaw!" cried Gotzkowsky, laughing, "they will have to conclude
to leave us something more."
"And did you hear London's terrible threat? He has said his soldiers
should massacre every one, and not spare even the child in its
mother's womb."
"And did you not hear the brave Schwerin's answer to this Austrian
bravado?" asked Gotzkowsky. "He said, 'My soldiers are not with
child, neither am I.' Well, our men of Berlin are not with child, and
therefore they need not be afraid."
"But you must be afraid!" whined Krause. "It is disgraceful madness
not to be afraid. How! You can be so unreasonable as to advise war?
But war is the most bitter enemy of prosperity, and threatens property
above all things."
"Then shame on the proprietors," cried Gotzkowsky, "if their property
is to make cowardly poltroons of them! Liberty is our greatest
possession, and all else must yield to it."
At this moment loud cries and sounds of wailing were heard in the
garden from the collected workmen, who surrounded the prophet in a
dense group, and listened to his prophecies with anxious wonder as he
uttered them from a high bench.
Gotzkowsky frowned. "Ah, I understand!" said he, "this good
linen-weaver is your accomplice, my brave gentlemen, and as you wish
to convert me, so does he wish to convert my honest workmen into old
women. Let us see first in what sort of gibberish he preaches his
wisdom to these good people."
Without taking any further notice of the two editors, Gotzkowsky left
the summer-house rapidly and approached the listening multitude.
* * * * *