"At the heels of the Bavarians."
"Where's Major Teimer?"
"At the heels of Speckbacher."
"Ho!—Well, Hofer, you'll just speak to your men—and to-morrow I'll put forth a proclamation—I'd dictate it to-night, only my head aches ready to split—telling every true Tyrolean, whose heart, and so forth,—had better show his love of his country by abstaining from feu-de-joieing, and by hunting up, without delay, all such arms, rifles, muskets, swords, cavalry saddles, and what not, as can be found, and bringing them with all speed to head-quarters. Bless my heart! what a number of precious lives might be taken by the ammunition these silly clodhoppers are now wasting!"
"I'll go to them at once, baron. And, if you'll take my unworthy advice, you'll go to bed, and drink something hot."
"Thank you, thank you,—I believe I shall, or something cold, for I'm very feverish—you see one eye is quite bunged up already. Good night. I'm sorry you won't take a glass of wine, though. Let me see you in the morning."
Hofer assented, with a gesture, and withdrew. "Poor man! poor gentleman, I mean," thought he. "He seems much afflicted at having a stuffing in the head; almost as much as at not having won yesterday's battle. Well, well! we must each do what we can, we are but as God made us."
Here he was joined by Giuseppe Eisenstecken, who had been drinking iced champagne, and seemed very cheerful.
"Sanvird," said he, clapping his hand familiarly on Hofer's shoulder, "what reward do you think I have hit on for my work of yesterday?"
"What reward have I thought of for myself or Speckbacher?" said Hofer. "Our success is reward enough for us all, I think."