An hour went by; and many a messenger came up from the lower town, each burdened with gloomy tidings. The horses and carriages were all brought up from the stables of the Hradschin, and some small sums of money, together with clothes, and papers; but it was soon found that the council of citizens had taken possession of the building; and though they did not exactly prevent the King's servants from removing his own property, yet there were questions asked and objections made, which rendered the task slow and difficult. Night fell, and the confusion in the town increased. The light of numerous torches created a glare which was seen red and portentous from the Wyschehrad; and a loud murmur like the roar of a distant sea rose up and filled the watching hearts above with vague and gloomy apprehensions.
Old Count Thurm had speedily joined the royal party, and a number of devoted friends surrounded Frederic and his Queen; but those who knew the Bohemian capital best did not contribute, by their warnings, to raise hopes or to still anxieties.
They represented the probability of tumult and violence as great; and all seemed convinced that treason had long been preparing the way for the state of mind the people now displayed.
At length loud but distant shouts, and then the sounds of horses' feet clattering quickly over the paved road, were heard; and in a few minutes Algernon Grey was introduced into the chamber where the King and Queen were seated, surrounded by most of those who had accompanied them to the citadel.
"What are those shouts, my lord?" was Frederic's first question.
"I trust good auguries, your Majesty," replied the young Englishman; "the crowds surrounded me and my people as I returned, calling out loudly for the tidings I bore. I answered briefly, that a truce was concluded to negotiate a peace. Those who understood German translated it to the rest; and then they tossed up their hats and shouted joyfully. So I trust that they will now return to their own homes; for they seemed in a sadly disturbed state.--There, my lord the King, is the convention signed by the Elector and Bucquoy. It was all that by any arguments I could obtain, though I disputed with them for an hour."
"But eight hours suspension of arms!" exclaimed Frederic, looking at the paper, and then gazing at Christian of Anhalt, and at Thurm. "Our decision must be made speedily."
"If we were but sure of Mansfeld," said Anhalt, thoughtfully, "and had but two thousand men more within the walls."
"It is vain, old friend," cried Count Thurm. "I know these people better than any one; and I take upon myself to say to the King--Fly at once. Lose not the precious moments. There are traitors in town, and court, and army. The people are not with us; we have no force to hold out; no hope of succour. You have eight hours, my lord, to save yourself from worse than perhaps you dream of; and, what is far more, to save this dear lady, our Queen. Lose not an instant; but go!"
"It were well, my royal friend," said Christian of Anhalt. "Had we the people with us; had we troops to secure the place without their aid; could we even rally the remains of the army within Prague, I would say, 'Stay; fight it out here to the last; and play the game to an end, however desperate.' But all things at this moment are against us. The only thing in our power is eight hours of time. I see nought to which they can be applied, but to your speedy escape. If you stay, with an army of fifty thousand men at your gates, with a turbulent and discontented population within, with a force not sufficient to man the whole walls, with provisions that will not last ten days, and not ammunition enough to resist a regular siege, a thousand to one the population throw open the gates tomorrow, and deliver you as a prisoner into the hands of the enemy."