"There's no knowing, child."
"I don't know that I could have done less than ask the Sandwirth home, father, when I saw him last night, standing about, in the lobby, looking quite puzzled."
"Certainly not, child. The poor, simple fellow"—said Stumff, with an air of complacent superiority—"would have come to mischief of one sort or another, for he knows as little as a child. A brave, honest heart, and a good marksman, Alouise; and when you've said that, you've said all. Give me my breakfast quick, child, that I may go out and look about me a little."
Alouise poured out his coffee, and gave him a slice of bread, and then hurried to the house door, calling eagerly to one or two persons who were hurrying along, to ask them what was going forward. They only replied, "Atzwanger is turning out the armed burghers," and ran off; and her father, with his mouth full, soon followed, bidding her take good care of the house. So there was she, alone in the midst of bustle, feeling solitude doubly lonely, till at length she called to a little boy who was cleaning knives, and said,—
"Dolf, run down to the gates, and bring me word what is going on."
When he was gone, she thought he would perhaps not return; and felt more solitary than ever, till the young man who had escorted her to the theatre dropped in.
"We're in a fine mess," said he. "Here are the Bavarians coming back."
"Aye—what shall we do? Perhaps they will get possession of Innsbruck again."
"Very likely. For my part, I hope they will."
"Oh, Leopold! How can you be so unpatriotic?"