Suddenly he heard a loud tread and the clanking of armour on the stairs. The burgomaster at once replaced the keys in the bag, fastened it, and swung the strap from which it was suspended round, so that it hung behind him. Then he placed himself in what looked like a defensive attitude, as though he knew who was about to enter through the door.
"Good morning, commandant!" he said to the officer who entered and threw his torn hat with its smoke-soiled plume on a seat.
"Good morning, burgomaster," returned the officer, sitting down at the other side of the table.
There followed a long pause of silence, as though two duellists were loading their pistols in order to shoot each other down. At last the commandant broke the silence by asking abruptly, "What did the Bregenzers say?"
"Not a sack of meal, not a glass of wine, till the town has given up the keys! That was what they said."
"Well?"
"Well?" repeated the burgomaster with a threatening glance.
"You won't give up the keys?"
"No! a thousand times no! a million times no!" He sprang from his chair, crimson in the face.
"Do you know," asked the commandant, "that the corpses are poisoning the city, since the Swedes took the churchyard of Eschach?"