"We have about thirty rifles," said the little man, anxiously, "but we can't count upon them all to-day."
"Can you get us arms?" asked Anton.
"But few," said the locksmith, shaking his head.
"There is a band of us Germans from the country," said Anton, rapidly; "we will fight our way into the suburb as far as the Red Deer Inn, and there I will keep the people together, and, for God's sake, send us a patrol to report the state of things, and the number of arms you can procure. If we can eject the nobles, the others will run away at once."
"But then the revenge these Poles will take!" said the locksmith. "The town will have to pay for it."
"No such thing, my man. The military can be sent for to-morrow, if you but help to eject these madmen to-day. Off with you; each moment increases the danger."
He drove the little man away, and hurried back to the fountain. There the Germans were assembled in small groups, and the Neudorf bailiff came to meet him, crying, "There's no time to lose; the others are beginning to notice us; there is a party of scythes forming yonder against us."
"Follow me!" cried Anton, in a loud voice; "draw close; forward! let's leave the town."
The forester sprang from side to side, marshaling the men; Anton and the bailiff led the way. As they reached the corner of the market-place, scythes were crossed; and the leader of the party cocked his gun, and said theatrically, "Why do you wish to leave, my fine sir? Take arms, ye people; to-day is the day of liberty!"
He said no more, for the forester, springing forward, gave him such an astounding box on the ear that he reeled and fell, his gun dropping from his hand. A loud cry arose; the forester caught up the gun, and the scythe-bearers, taken by surprise, were dashed aside, their scythes taken from them, and broken on the pavement. Thus the German band reached the gates, and there, too, the enemy yielded, and the dense mass passed on unmolested till they reached the inn appointed. There the bailiff, urged on by Anton, addressed the people: