Again he began to turn over the leaves of his portfolio, then he went on: "Take your caps off, intrepid inhabitants of Schranden. Attention, my brave men! Gentlemen, if you please, rise! Whoever keeps his cap on at the back there will be ejected. I am commissioned to read over to you an order of the Cabinet of supreme import. It is as follows: 'Should it prove true that the Freiherr von Schranden of Schloss Schranden and Lieutenant Baumgart of the 15th Regiment of the Silesian Landwehr, be one and the same person, and that, as was naturally supposed of so fearless an officer, he had no real intentions of deserting, I appoint him to a captaincy in my Landwehr, and entrust him with the command of the company in his division. I also bestow on him, in recognition of his extraordinary valour and distinguished service, the iron cross of the first class. The Landrath for the district shall invest him with these honours in the presence of his accusers.--Friedrich Wilhelm Rex.'"
The proclamation was received in profound silence. The patriotic Schrandeners stood glowering at each other in consternation. Felix Merckel had sunk back on the window-seat. His fingers clutched convulsively at the cross that shone between the black froggings on his coat. Boleslav felt a buzzing sensation in his head. He was obliged to cling to the door for support, for he feared he might swoon. Not joy, only infinite bitterness, welled up within him. He bit his lips hard to keep back his tears.
The Landrath drew a small black case from the depths of his coat pocket, and presented it to Boleslav with an exaggeratedly obsequious bow. The cover sprang back. The black smoothly polished scrap of iron, on its background of blue velvet, seemed surrounded by a halo of shimmering light. Boleslav grasped it with one hand in growing excitement, while he offered his other to the Landrath. The latter retreated a step or two, closely regarding his long, white, skinny hands, as if the act of handing over the case had done them some injury. Then he deliberately hid them behind his back.
"Herr Landrath, I offered you my hand," cried Boleslav threateningly, flushing darkly at this new insult.
"According to his Majesty's wishes I have discharged my duty. My instructions did not include a shake of the hand."
At this moment a cross, like the one Boleslav had just received, flew through the air and alighted at his feet Felix Merckel had torn it from his breast. Swelling with righteous indignation, he swaggered up to the official, whom he now felt sure he had no reason to be afraid of, and cried--
"There it may lie. I don't want it now. Any decent soldier would be ashamed to wear it when such as he is decorated with it."
A cry of mingled pain and fury escaped Boleslav's lips, and with raised fists he turned fiercely on his enemy.
Felix Merckel unsheathed his sabre, as if with the intention of hewing down the unarmed man. But the old landlord threw his corpulent form between them. The Landrath confined himself to waving his hands soothingly; and the pastor vigilantly kept watch on his Schrandeners. He knew his flock, and read murder in their glance.
"Back there! keep back!" he shouted to the tumultuous throng in a voice of brass. With outstretched arms he sprang into the doorway, where already a line of pikes appeared, ready to fell the victim from behind.