All sorts of notions were discussed, the most timid hastened to the burgomaster and the burgher superintendents, to stir them up to take some step to prevent the king from leaving the city; others urged the concentration of the troops in the capital; others proposed the destruction of the railways; in a word endless advice, political and military, was given away in the streets, and each adviser thought his plan the only one which could save the city and the country. In the meantime the troops in garrison at Hanover marched to the station, and were sent off by railway; other battalions and squadrons arrived, and after a short delay were also dispatched, but everything was done so quietly that the crowd standing about the railway station never perceived the military proceedings.
In the large square before the station stood a group of citizens in earnest conversation, whilst a small dark man with a pale face and brilliant eyes endeavoured to calm them. They were large powerful men of the old Saxon race, who may be relied upon to act, under circumstances which they understand, but who lose all their courage and presence of mind if they find themselves in an unusual and unexpected position. The North German and Saxon character always requires time to accustom itself to new and unforeseen events, before it can show all its worth; everything new, sudden, and unusual, stuns it, and cripples its powers.
So it was now; these strong powerful men, with their large characteristic features, stood looking depressed and puzzled, an expression of great discontent and displeasure upon their faces, and their displeasure they were quite ready to pour out upon the government, for they were accustomed to hold the government answerable for everything, and to sulk with it, if the calm routine of their daily life was disturbed.
"But do be reasonable," cried the small pale man, gesticulating energetically; "you are no longer children, and you surely might have foreseen that they would not go on for ever in Germany, speechifying and resolving over their beer, but that in the end they would do something. Besides, you know nothing as yet for certain."
"That is what is so wrong," interrupted a large corpulent man, with a deep bass voice; "that is what is so wrong; we know nothing; we might at least be informed of what is about to take place, then every citizen might set his house in order, and provide for the future."
"But wait," cried the little man vehemently; "you have heard that the generals are now at Herrenhausen with the king, and that the ministers have only just returned. How can you be told of things until they are decided upon? I suppose," he said, laughing scornfully, "the king should call the whole town and the suburbs to his councils."
"Sonntag is right!" said a thin old man, in a plain burgher dress, and speaking in the Saxon Low German, still commonly used by the middle and lower classes in town and country. "Sonntag is right; we must wait and see what will happen; the king will tell us all in good time; he certainly will not leave us without saying what we are to do; he is the son of Ernest Augustus," he said soothingly to the other burghers, who evidently listened to him with much greater confidence than they had bestowed on the small, pale, animated merchant, Sonntag.
"Look!" cried the latter suddenly; "there is Count Wedel's carriage at the railway station!" and he pointed out an elegant open carriage which had drawn up before the large entrance to the station, whilst the beautiful horses pawed the ground; "let us wait for the count, he will know what is going on."
He hastened to the carriage, the others following him.
In a short time the governor of the castle, Count Alfred Wedel, came out of the station in undress uniform.