'Well, Martin,' she said, 'what do you say?'
But I had nothing to say, I felt myself at a loss. I knew, better than any of them, the Minister's sour nature, and I had seen with my own eyes the state of resentment and rage in which he had left us. His news would fall like a spark dropped on powder. The town, brooding in gloom, foreboding, and terror, would in a moment blaze into fierce wrath. Every ruffian who had felt his neck endangered by the Countess's sentence, every family that had lost a member in the late riot, every one who had an old grievance to avenge, or a new object to gain, would in an hour be in arms; while those whose advantage lay commonly on the side of order might stand aloof now--some at the instance of Dietz, and others through timidity and that fear of a mob which exists in the mind of every burgher. What, then, had we to expect? My lady must look to have her authority flouted--that for certain; but would the matter end with that? Would the disorder stop at the foot of the steps?
'I think we are safe enough here, if your excellency asks me,' I said, after a moment's thought. 'A dozen men could hold the wicket-gate against a thousand.'
'Safe!' my lady cried in a tone of surprise. 'Yes, Martin, safe! But what of those who look to me for protection? Am I to stand by and see the law defied? Am I to----' She paused. 'What is that?' she said in a different tone, raising her hand for silence.
She listened, and we listened, looking at one another with meaning eyes; and in a moment she had her answer. Through the open windows, with the air and sunshine, came a sound which rose and fell at intervals. It was the noise of distant cheering. Full and deep, leaping up again and again, in insolent mockery and defiance, it reached us where we stood in the quiet room, and told us that all was known. While we still listened, another sound, nearer at hand, broke the inner stillness of the house--the tramp of a hurrying foot on the stairs. Old Jacob thrust in his head and looked at me.
'You can speak,' I said.
'There is something wrong below,' he muttered, abashed at finding himself in the presence.
'We know it, Jacob,' my lady said bravely. 'We are considering how to right it. In the mean time, do you go to the gates, my friend, and see that they are well guarded.'
'We could send to Hesse-Cassel,' the Waldgrave suggested, when we were again alone.
'It would be useless,' my lady answered. 'The Landgrave is at Munich with the King of Sweden; so is Leuchtenstein.'