They proceeded to the village, but the hostler was not there, having been drafted into the military service.
Roland was very sorry at that, and wrote down the man's name in his memorandum-book.
The two went on through the country clothed in the green of summer, and when they reached the railroad, took the cars for the Fortress. All was here decked with flags, and the whole town appeared in holiday attire. Men and women streamed in from all quarters, some on boats and some in the cars, singing in clear tones, and were received with a hearty welcome. Eric was happy to be able to say to his pupil:—
"Remember that this belongs to us. Neither the Greeks nor the Romans had such celebrations, nor any other nation but us Germans."
They spent the night at the Fortress, and the next morning all assembled, the hundreds of male and female singers, and a great crowd of listeners, in the festival hall now properly ornamented, but at other times used as a fruit-market. A gloomy rumor was spread through the assembly; the singers shook their heads, and clapped together their hands, while among the audience there was a commotion and a rustling.
A man of fine voice, an experienced singer, had been suddenly taken ill.
"Look yonder," said Roland; "there sit nuns, and there are pupils, in the school-dress that they wear at Manna's convent. Ah, if Manna should be here too!"
Eric said to Roland:—
"Stay here; I will see if I can be of any assistance. I depend upon your not quitting this seat."
He went up to the singers on the platform, and spoke earnestly to the leader, by whose side he stood. Men came up to them while they were talking together, and went away again. Suddenly all eyes were turned towards Eric, and a whispering and a buzzing went through the assembly. Master Ferdinand, the conductor, tapped with his baton, and his look, which directed and inspired all, was smiling. There was silence, and in a tone that won all hearts he said:—