"Who has invited you?"
"Our former officer, Lieutenant Baumgart."
"Nonsense! There's no Lieutenant Baumgart here. I thought you were going to bring him with you."
"Pardon, Herr Lieutenant, he is here already."
"Where is the fellow hiding, then?"
"Probably you know him better under another name--Herr von Schranden."
The stone jug in Felix's hand fell and crashed to pieces at Engelbert's feet. The beer splashed his legs up to the knee.
A tumult arose inside the inn. As if in preparation for battle, windows were speedily closed, and Johann Radtke, driven by thirst to ascend the steps to the main entrance, found the door banged in his face.
"Hunted from the threshold like tramps!" grumbled the dark-haired Peter Negenthin, and clenched his fist in his sling.
"Do you wish to perjure yourself?" asked Engelbert in a low voice, coming close to him. "If so, then go back. What is required of us we must do. Whoever forgets the church at Dannigkow is a cur!"