"Oh no, not far. Papa has forbidden me to take long walks, and he does not much like my coming out alone. Tell me, Herr Wilberg, is all this about our miners really so dangerous?"
"Dangerous? How do you mean?" said Wilberg diplomatically.
"Well, I don't know, but papa is so grave sometimes, it makes me feel quite nervous and frightened. He has talked too of sending mamma and me into town on a visit."
The young man's face assumed an expression of deep melancholy.
"The times are full of grave earnest," he said, "of terrible earnest! I cannot blame your father for wishing to place his wife and child in safety. We must stand and fight to the last man!"
"To the last man?" cried the girl, horrified. "Good Heavens, my poor papa!"
"Well, I only meant that in a figurative sense," said Wilberg soothingly. "There is no question of personal danger; and even if it should come to that, your father's years and his duties as head of a family would exclude him from all perilous service. In that case, we young ones should step into the breach."
"Would you?" asked Mélanie, looking at him rather distrustfully.
"Certainly, Fräulein Mélanie, I should be the very first."
With a view to giving greater emphasis to this declaration, Herr Wilberg was about to lay his hand solemnly on his breast, when all at once, he jumped back and hurried as fast as possible over to the other side, Mélanie following him with equal speed. Close behind them stood Hartmann's gigantic form. He had come over the bridge unnoticed, and smiled now a contemptuous little smile as he saw the evident emotion of the young people.