"Look you, now," said the worthy locksmith; "it comes hard to us, too. Those who have just left wives and children in their first alarm are not much inclined to make targets of themselves. Our people are full of good-will, but those men yonder are desperate, and therefore let us get in quietly from behind. If we can surprise them, there will be the less bloodshed, and that's the chief thing. I have got no arms, only a sword for you."
The party accordingly set off in silence, the locksmith leading the way. "Our men are assembled in the captain's house," said he; "we can enter it through the garden without being seen."
At length, having got over hedges and ditches, they found themselves in the court-yard of a dyer.
"Wait here," said the locksmith, with some disquietude. "The dyer is one of us militiamen. His house door opens upon the back street, which takes into Löwenberg's court-yard: I am going to the captain."
The party had only a few minutes to wait before they were joined by the militia. The captain, a portly butcher, requested Anton to join forces and walk by his side. They moved on to the back entrance of Löwenberg's house, saw that the gate was neither locked nor guarded, and the court empty. They halted for a moment, and the forester proposed his plan.
"We are more than are wanted in the house," said he. "Hard by there is a broad cross-street leading to the market. Let me have the drummer, a few of the militia, and half of the country people. We will run to the market-place and invest the opening of the cross-street, shouting loudly. Those in front of the house will be diverted thither: meanwhile, you can force an entrance and take them prisoners. As soon as you hear the drum, let the captain rush through the court into the house and make fast the door."
"I approve the plan," said the burly captain, his blood thoroughly up; "only be quick about it."
The forester took six of the militia, beckoned to the bailiff and to some of the country people, and went quietly down the side street. Soon the beating of a drum was heard, and loud hurrahs. At that signal all rushed through the court, the captain and Anton waving their swords, and found themselves inside the house before any one was aware of them, for all were looking out at door and window on the other side.
"Hurrah!" cried the captain; "we have them," catching hold of one of the gentlemen. "Not one shall escape. Close the door!" he cried, and he held his victim fast by the collar like a cow by its horns. Ten strong men closed and locked the house door, so that all the more zealous of the enemy who were standing on the steps found themselves shut out. Next some of the band rushed up stairs, and the others spread themselves over the ground floor. All the conspirators on that floor, however, jumped out through the window, so that the Germans took nothing but a list of names, a quantity of scythes, and half a dozen guns belonging to the nobles. These the locksmith caught up, and ran, together with Anton and a few others, to join the forester's detachment, which they found in a critical position.
The beat of the drums and the shouting, together with the attack made simultaneously upon the house, had thrown the enemy into confusion. The men with scythes were standing about in disorder, while the bearer of the scarf, himself unarmed, was busy trying to rally them. On the other hand, all such as had guns—stewards, huntsmen, and a few young men of rank, had marched against the forester's party. Both bands halted with weapons raised, kept back for a moment by the thought of the fearful consequences that must follow the word of command. At that moment, Anton and the valiant locksmith joined them, and the guns they brought were dispensed quick as lightning. A bloody conflict on the pavement now seemed unavoidable.