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, assembled 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' associations and fire companies, bring about an equalization or readjustment of the former classification. 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 association, 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 aprons 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:
"Do you know why Anton Armbruster did not come? He is ashamed, though he hasn't done anything to be ashamed of; but Landolin, whose acquittal was such an atrocity, was to be his father-in-law. Aha! There stands Landolin himself! That man there with the broad back, that's he."
Landolin's broad back moved. The cordon of students was broken, and he found himself in the midst of the festivities.