"What about these howitzers?" he asked scornfully. "What is there to prevent Bernhardt rushing them? Where are they?"
"They are in a very safe place," said Meyer with a wave of his hand to the right. "If Bernhardt means to storm them he'll have to face six quick-firers and two hundred riflemen on either flank; also he'll have to climb a quarter of a mile of soft snow without a stick of cover for his men. Anyone who can reach those howitzers may keep them as a memento of a warm afternoon."
"And who is in command?" asked the still unconvinced General.
"Von Hügelweiler," replied Meyer.
General Bilderbaum uttered a sonorous oath that was more like a roar than an expletive.
"Hügelweiler!" he cried. "I wouldn't trust him with a corporal's guard. He's a liar and a traitor on his own confession."
"He is probably both," agreed Meyer, "and he is also a bitterly disappointed man. The gentleman for whom his hatred is being nursed is now in the Marienkastel, and I don't think you need have any anxiety as to the accuracy of Von Hügelweiler's guns."
For a moment Meyer's calm assurance won silence. The troops continued to arrive from the lower town and take their appointed positions on the road that led to Weissheim. The Commander-in-Chief might be making mistakes, but if so they were not the errors of a stupid mind. Karl began for the first time to appreciate the true merits of the Jew's scheme. When the invaders' position in the castle was rendered untenable they would have no path open to them but the one by which they had come. Then, doubtless having frittered away their strength in vain efforts to break through to Weissheim, Meyer would deliver a crushing counter attack as they drew off, spent and shattered, down the hillside. Von Bilderbaum, however, failed to see things with the same eye of faith.
"Why doesn't Von Hügelweiler open fire now?" he demanded.
"Because he has not received the order to do so," Meyer replied.