"I think we had better come to a final settlement now," he said. "Once for all, I tell you I shall not leave my place; I shall not go to Villica; and you shall not go from here until you have revoked your command!"
The foresters, like well-drilled soldiers, each seized his weapon, and in an instant the young landlord was surrounded by sullen, threatening faces--faces which indicated plainly that the men would shrink from no deed of violence. The man[oe]uvre had been so quick and so well executed, that it must have been planned. Waldemar, perhaps, regretted that he had come alone, but he retained his usual composure.
"What does this mean?" he asked. "Am I to take it as a threat?"
"Take it for what you please," said the border-forester, beside himself with rage; "but you shall not stir from here until you comply with our terms! It is now our turn to say 'either--or.' Take care, you are not bullet-proof!"
"You have already made the test, perhaps," the young landlord said, riveting his gaze upon the forester. "From whose gun did the ball come that was fired at me when I left here on my last visit?"
The only answer was a gleam of deadly hatred from Osiecki's eyes.
"I have another ball, and so has each of my men. We are ready to put them to the proof. To come to the point: you must either give us your word--your word of honor, (for this is more binding with people of your rank than any written agreement,)--that all of us shall remain here unmolested, that no soldier shall set foot here, or--"
"Or?"
"You shall not leave this place alive!"
This menace was followed by ominous mutterings from the men. They pressed more closely around the young landlord, six rifle-barrels raised threateningly backed the overseer's words, but not a muscle of Waldemar's face moved as he deliberately eyed the group.