The city guard, on seeing Werner’s redoubtable back turned, had adopted double time, and now came panting up, while the stranger bent smiling under a fresh overflow of innocent caresses. Margarita was caught to her father’s breast.
‘You shall have vengeance for this, sweet chuck,’ cried old Gottlieb in the intervals of his hugs.
‘Fear not, my father; they are punished’: and Margarita related the story of the stranger’s prowess, elevating him into a second Siegfried. The guard huzzaed him, but did not pursue the Baron.
Old Gottlieb, without hesitation, saluted the astonished champion with a kiss on either cheek.
‘My best friend! You have saved my daughter from indignity! Come with us home, if you can believe that a home where the wolves come daring us, dragging our dear ones from our very doorsteps. Come, that we may thank you under a roof at least. My little daughter! Is she not a brave lass?’
‘She’s nothing less than the white rose of Germany,’ said the stranger, with a good bend of the shoulders to Margarita.
‘So she’s called,’ exclaimed Gottlieb; ‘she ‘s worthy to be a man!’
‘Men would be the losers, then, more than they could afford,’ replied the stranger, with a ringing laugh.
‘Come, good friend,’ said Gottlieb; ‘you must need refreshment. Prove you are a true hero by your appetite. As Charles the Great said to Archbishop Turpin, “I conquered the world because Nature gave me a gizzard; for everywhere the badge of subjection is a poor stomach.” Come, all! A day well ended, notwithstanding!’