"See!" cried Andreas, "that is the punishment of Heaven! The hand of
God has struck him. He is a traitor, who intended to sell us to the
French."
"No, he is an honorable man, and has told you the truth," said Baron von Worndle, gravely. "Your violent accusation frightened him; and he fell into an epileptic fit. He is affected with that disease." [Footnote: Ibid.]
He and some of the bystanders raised the unfortunate baron from the ground, and carried him into the adjoining room. He then returned to Andreas, who was walking up and down with a hasty step, and murmuring to himself, "I cannot believe it! The Archduke John did not write it. His hand would have withered while writing it. He did not do it."
"Yes, Andreas, he did," said Worndle, gravely; "he was obliged to submit, as we all shall have to do. The Archduke John was obliged to yield to the will of his emperor as we shall have to do. The treaty of peace has been concluded. There is no doubt of it."
"Lord God! the treaty of peace has been concluded, and the emperor abandons us?" cried Andreas.
"The emperor, it seems, was unable to do any thing for the Tyrol," said Worndle in a low voice. "He had to consent that the Tyrol should be restored to the French and Bavarians."
"But that is impossible!" cried Andreas, despairingly. "He pledged us his word, his sacred word, that he would never consent to a peace that would detach the Tyrol from Austria. How can you now insult the dear emperor by saying that he has broken his word?"
"He has not broken his word, but he was unable to keep it. Look, commander-in-chief, I bring you another letter, to which, as you see, is affixed a large imperial seal, the seal of the Viceroy of Italy, who wrote the letter to you and all the Tyrolese."
"Read it," exclaimed Andreas, mournfully; "I cannot, my eyes are filled with tears. Read it to me, sir."
Worndle read as follows: