But to-night the situation was hardly one that admitted of academic haughtiness. The over-cheerful band scattered like night birds, here and there a shamefaced youth lifting his ridiculous head-gear before vanishing.
Sidonia and her countryman were alone. Then he, a stout veteran, grey-whiskered, with a comfortable fatherly presence, turned a shrewd, kind, yet grave scrutiny upon her:
"Na, child!" he exclaimed; "and what, in the name of God, brings you in the streets at this hour?"
She told him the bare truth, down to her name: how she had left the palace to seek the protection of her husband, who was at an inn in the town.
The old man nodded two or three times comprehendingly. He knew the Chancellor, as small people know the great; knew Wellenshausen, as who did not know the noble name on the marches of Thuringia; knew that a Thuringian lady was wise to leave that place yonder—with a jerk of his lantern. But why came she apart from her husband at all—how had he left her there?
"It was against his will; but I was angry with him," said Sidonia, ingenuously. She looked up at the old face, like a child, and tears welled into her eyes.
The good man gave a chuckle. A great lady was the daughter of Wellenshausen, the greatest lady in his own country; but to him, in very truth, to-night only a foolish child under his guardianship. He shook his head at her and began to chide in homely fashion.
Aye, aye, it was very wrong for a woman to disobey her husband. All good German women were submissive to their lords. Now she saw what dangers surrounded rebellious wives! She was right to go back to him. She must be humble and ask forgiveness. Aye, aye, he would guide her to the hotel door. Certainly! Was it likely indeed that he would leave her till he had seen her safe within?
He shifted his lantern into the hand that held the halbert, and gladly Sidonia felt his rough fingers close on her wrist. She went beside him, weak now and shaken, and listened in meekness to his homily. By-and-by, finding her in such good disposition, he endeavoured to beguile the way with more general topics. The Thuringian dialect became broader and broader as he foretold the clean-out of honest Germany from the Welsch intruders; the downfall of the monkey tyrant, and the approaching good days when true-minded folk would come by their own again in Westphalia. Eh, it would not be long, he added mysteriously. Na, he knew what he knew. It was a good thing she was out of the French palace, for more reasons than one—aye, aye.
Sidonia could have cried for joy when, emerging upon the little round Koenig's Platz, she saw the gilt eagle, illumined by a red lamp, shine out in sanguinary grandeur from the front of the old German house. On the doorstep she once again offered both her hands to the watchman; he shook them cordially.