When the door was closed, Vögeli approached his host and held out his hand, saying: “You have a stout heart, I know; how is it with the other citizens?”
Hans gave him a searching glance. “Doubtless through you the Governor seeks to find me out and ruin me. But this I tell you frankly: you may do with me as you will; but when the others strike, the blow will be a cruel one.”
Vögeli smiled kindly. “Rest assured, my friend, I mean you no harm. But since you are already so certain of success, perchance you will not need the aid of myself and my two hundred men—should you come to blows.”
“What!” cried Master Hans, in astonishment, “do you mean that you would help us?”
“Certainly, and without delay—to-morrow, in truth, else it may be too late,” replied the Captain quickly.
“To-morrow? Impossible! We are all armed, it is true, but must wait for reënforcements from Ensisheim and other towns.”
“Very well then, wait, and perish! But first listen to what I tell you. To-morrow morning you and your wives will be driven from the city to work in the trenches. Once gone, you with all the rest will be forbidden to reënter the gates; if you stay behind you will be slain. Your property will be divided among the foreign mercenaries, and your children perchance sent after you, should the spoilers see fit to spare them. Take tender leave to-night of Anne Marie and Peter. You may never see them again, Master Hans.”
In answer to his anxious questions, Vögeli explained the extent and imminence of the danger.
“But what would you advise us to do? We are not yet prepared to strike,” said Hans.
“Trust to our help, my friend; it shall not fail you. Early in the morning, before the proclamation can be published, I will go to the Governor and once more demand of him the pay for my men. If he refuse, as he surely will, sound the great drum and be ready. We will take him prisoner.”