Still it was right to warn the inhabitants of the château of the fate impending over them. I hastily left the library to look for papa and Aunt Mary. I found both in the drawing-room. “The Prussians are coming, the Prussians are coming,” I announced to them breathlessly. One is always glad to be able to be the first to communicate important tidings.
“Devil take them,” was my father’s rather inhospitable exclamation, while Aunt Mary hit on the right thing to do, as she said: “I will immediately give Frau Walter her orders for the necessary preparations”.
“And where is Otto?” I asked. “Some one must acquaint him, and warn him not to let his hatred of the Prussians peep out anyhow, and not to be uncivil to the guests.”
“Otto is not at home,” replied my father. “He went out early to-day after the partridges. You should have seen him, how well his hunting-dress sat on him. He grows a fine fellow. My delight is in him.”
Meanwhile the house filled with noise. Hasty steps were heard, and excited voices.
“They are come already—those windbags,” muttered my father.
The door was dashed open, and Franz, the valet de chambre, rushed in.
“The Prussians—the Prussians,” he shouted, in the same tone as one calls “Fire, fire!”
“Well, they won’t eat us,” growled my father.
“But they are bringing a man with them—a man from Grumitz,” the man went on in a trembling voice. “I do not know who it is. He has fired on them; and who would not like to fire on such a scum? But it is all over with him.”