"I stand before my undoer," replied Boleslav, looking steadily into the Landrath's eyes.
He fixed them on his papers again, with a suppressed smile. "I have now come to the last stage of my investigation," he continued. "It cannot be denied that your statements bear a strong resemblance to the facts, and that your claim to be one and the same person as the Lieutenant Baumgart who served in the Silesian Landwehr under Major von Wolzogen has gained in probability. Only this admission has to be weighed in the scale against the impossibility of an honourable officer, as the said Baumgart seems to have been, turning his back on the army in which he had won honours and wounds, and deserting its standard. He must have known a company of soldiers could not be dispersed like a flock of sparrows. And to think that the Landwehr"--his chest swelled and he tossed his mane,--"the glorious Landwehr, that has always stood in the first rank for courage, love of order, and discipline, should have thus been hoodwinked! Freiherr von Schranden, I fervently hope that Lieutenant Baumgart was not guilty of this transgression, and am therefore bound to wish that he met his death."
Boleslav felt the crisis was approaching. He glanced round him and saw everywhere eyes flaming with hate and thirst for vengeance. Felix Merckel had laid his hand on the handle of his sabre, as if in another moment he would raise it. From the throngs behind him came a clash and din of arms. Malignant satisfaction beamed on the face of the old host of the Black Eagle. Only the pastor sat with his dishevelled head bowed in his hands, staring despondently on the floor.
"It is not my fault, Herr Landrath, that the dead man has been brought to life. He did his duty, I think. Why should he not have been allowed to rest in peace?"
The Landrath shrugged his shoulders.
"A public indictment cannot be ignored."
"An indictment!" cried Boleslav, his anger blazing up, and his eye met young Merckel's.
There he read, in unmistakable characters, the story of the shameless plot against him. He smiled in disgust.
"I see that I am answerable to a military tribunal," he said. "I was prepared for it. I beg you now to arrest me."
The mob pushed forward as if anxious to take him at his word without delay. Boleslav, who all this time had been standing on the threshold of the inner parlour, was hurled forward against the table, within a hair's-breadth of the Landrath, while the fists of his enemies touched his neck from behind.