"God grant that your words may be verified!" cried John, lifting his tearful eyes to heaven; "God grant that—"
A low rapping at the door leading to the small secret corridor caused the archduke to pause and turn his eyes with a searching expression to this door.
The rapping was repeated, more rapidly than before.
"It is Hormayr," exclaimed the archduke, joyfully; and he hastened to the secret door and opened it quickly.
A tall young man, in the uniform of an Austrian superior officer, appeared in the open door. The archduke grasped both his hands and drew him hastily into the cabinet.
"Hormayr, my friend," he said, breathlessly, "you have returned from the Tyrol? You have succeeded in fulfilling the mission with which I intrusted you? You have carried my greetings to the Tyrolese? Oh, speak, speak, my friend! What do my poor, deserted Tyrolese say?"
Baron von Hormayr fixed his flashing dark eyes with an expression of joyful tenderness on the excited face of the archduke.
"The Tyrolese send greeting to the Archduke John," he said; "the Tyrolese hope that the Archduke John will deliver them from the hateful yoke of the Bavarians; the Tyrolese believe that the hour has arrived, when they may recover their liberty; and to prove this- -"
"To prove this?" asked the archduke, breathlessly, when Hormayr paused a moment.
"To prove this," said Hormayr, in a lower voice, stepping up closer to the prince, "some of the most influential and respectable citizens of the Tyrol have accompanied me to Vienna; they desire to assure your imperial highness of their loyal devotedness, and receive instructions from you."