Arthur's looks had followed those of the men about him. He faced round now.
"Hartmann, are you in charge to-day? It is for you to see, then, that a way is made for us. We are waiting."
If, in these words, there had been the slightest trace of command or of entreaty, no matter which, it would have been as a spark falling into a powder-magazine, and Ulric seemed really to be only waiting for some such spark; but by thus recognising his authority and coolly calling on him to keep order, as if it were a well-understood part of his duty, Arthur took him by surprise, without, however, disarming him. He drew near slowly.
"Oh, so you want to ride on, Herr Berkow?"
"Certainly, you see we wish to pass through to the other side."
A look of withering contempt crossed Ulric's features.
"And you call on me to help you? You are master of your works and of your men. Why do you not order them to make way? Or"--here his voice took a hollow, threatening sound, "or, perhaps, you think that here I am master, and that I need only say one word to prove it to you--to prove it to you both!"
Eugénie had grown very pale, and pressed her horse still closer to Arthur's. She knew that the menace in those glittering eyes was not for her, but it was not for herself she trembled. She had no courage now to try and use that power before which Ulric had so lately bent; besides, she felt the spell would not work while he beheld her at her husband's side.
"In case of assault, a hundred can always have the mastery over one," said Arthur coldly, "but I suppose you hardly mean that, Hartmann. You would feel no uneasiness yourself, would you, if you came, alone and unexpectedly, into the midst of my officials? I consider myself as safe here as in my own house."
Ulric made no answer. He looked up with a scowl at the man before him, who was facing him with such perfect composure and steadily scanning his face with those clear brown eyes, just as on the day when the strife had first broken out.