"Ha! are you there, Hans, my trusty companion in misfortune, the first to salute me in Würtemberg? I expected my nobles would have been the foremost to greet my arrival in my country, my chancellor and my council--where are the dogs? Where are the representatives of my estates? will they not welcome me to my home? Is no one here to hold my stirrup but this peasant?"
The followers of the Duke hastened around him in surprise when they heard these cutting words. They scarcely knew whether he was in earnest, or whether it was a mere sarcastic joke over his own misfortunes. His mouth, appeared to smile, but his eye bespoke anger, and his voice sounded stern and commanding. They looked at each other in doubtful apprehension as to the meaning of this burst of passion, when the fifer of Hardt replied,
"For this once a peasant only assists your Grace on Würtemberg ground; but despise not a true heart and a willing hand. The others will soon come, when they hear the Duke treads his native land again."
"Do you think so?" said Ulerich, with a bitter smile, as he swung himself from his horse; "do you think they'll come? Hitherto we have little reason to flatter ourselves; but I'll knock at their doors, and let them know that the old gentleman is there, and will have admittance to his house! Are these the lansquenets who have agreed to serve me?" he continued, attentively observing the little army; "they appear well armed, and in good condition. How many men are there?"
"Twelve companies, your Grace," answered Peter the general, who still stood without his hat, in a state of embarrassment, twisting his mustachios occasionally. "Nothing but well-trained men. May my soul be punished--pardon my oath--but the king of France has no better soldiers!"
"Who are you?" asked the Duke, looking with astonishment at the large heavy figure of the general, with his immense sword and red face.
"I am a lansquenet of my own order, and am called Long Peter, but now the well-appointed general of the assembled----"
"What, general! this folly must have an end. You may be a very brave man, but you are not made to command. I will be your general henceforth," said the Duke, "and my knights will be named as your captains."
"Bassa manelka!--I am sorry I swore, but permit an old soldier to say a word to your Grace. What you propose would be against our terms of a gold florin a month, and four measures of wine a-day. There stands, for example, Staberl of Vienna, not a braver man under the sun----"
"Very good, very good, old man! we'll not talk of the gold florin and wine now," replied the Duke. "The captains shall retain their present commands, but I command you. Have you any ammunition?"