"My Herr gave me orders to buy these revolvers, and I do as he tells me."
"That is all right, and here is one for your Herr; he can shoot with it, if he pleases, he is accustomed to the business,--but you----" and as the thought of Habermann came into his mind he added, "Infamous greyhound, have you not caused misery enough already?"
Frau Nüssler came to the rescue.
"Hush! Bräsig, hush! Not a word of that! But you ought to be ashamed, Triddelsitz, to talk so lightly of shooting your fellow-creatures."
"What!" cried Jochen, springing to his feet. "Mother, is he going to shoot people dead?"
And Bauschan also sprang up, with a couple of emphatic barks, and Fritz was so confused by this combined attack on all sides, that he forgot his politeness, threw on his overcoat, thrust the mutilated revolver into his pocket, with the other, and only turned round at the door to remark, with great emphasis, that no ten horses should ever drag him over that threshold again.
"It will not be necessary," observed Bräsig, very quietly. But if he had heard Fritz's figures of speech, as he rode bowing along the street, on old dapple-gray, and examined his ruined revolver, he would not have been so composed, for, compared with the titles of honor which Fritz generously bestowed upon him, those of the Emperor of Austria were of no account whatever.
Fortunately he did not hear, and on the whole he did not care much that Fritz had placed the Nüsslers' house under the ban; but he had made the discovery this morning that the oldest friendships might be broken in such times as these, and he registered a solemn vow never, under any circumstances, to retreat upon the Rexow farm, with the Rahnstadt Burgher-guard. His confounded whims often ran away with him; but his good heart kept close behind, and seized the reins directly; Strife and confusion were very far from his intentions, he really wanted nothing but joy and peace; although, by his peculiar conduct, strife and confusion were often produced.
Towards evening, when Jochen and Bauschan had fallen comfortably asleep in the twilight, and it was a fine opportunity for a few sensible words, he began about Rudolph and Mining: "Frau Nüssler, there is an old proverb, that says: 'He who loves long, his love grows old, and he who'----"
"Leave your stupid proverbs alone, Bräsig, they are not suited to me, or to you! I know what you want to say, and I understand that this cannot go on much longer; but what is to become of him and of me?"