"Behold where the young villain stands," exclaimed a third, pointing to Philip.
"Hallo, hallo! seize the young traitor, in the name of the Emperor and the governor!" shouted the Germans.
"Run, Philip, run—run for your life!" cried a party of his youthful associates.
Philip hastily set his little cousin on his feet, and started off with the speed of the wild chamois of the Alpine mountains; leaving little Henric to shift for himself.
"The child, the child! the precious boy! he will be trampled to death!" shrieked Lalotte.
Henric had caught sight of his father among the crowd while Philip was holding him up to look at the ducal cap, and he had been much alarmed lest his father should see him. But the moment he found himself abandoned by Philip, he lifted up his voice, and screamed with all his might, "Father, father!"
The helplessness, the distress, together with the uncommon beauty of the child, moved the heart of a peasant near him, to compassion. "Who is your father, my fair boy?" said he. "Point him out, and I will lead you to him."
"My father is William Tell, the crossbow-man of Burglen," said the child. "There he is close to the cap on the pole yonder."
"Is he your father, poor babe?" said the peasant. "Well, you will find him in rare trouble, and I hope you may not be the means of adding to it, my little man."
No sooner had the kind man cleared the way through the crowd for his young companion, and conducted him within a few yards of the spot where William Tell stood, than the urchin drew his hand away from his new friend, and running to his father, flung his little arms about his knees, sobbing, "Father, dear father, pray forgive me this once, and I will never disobey you again."