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Well, my friend, do not grumble so much, but go and admit another person." Doeninger went to the door and opened it, and a beautiful young girl slipped immediately into the room. "Hush, hush," she whispered to Doeninger; "do not say anything to him." And she hastened on tiptoe to Andreas Hofer, who was reading once more with close attention the proclamation which he had dictated to Doeninger.
But Andreas was still pacing the room, his hands behind his back; and although he had already laid his hand twice on the door-knob, he had stepped back as if in terror, and continued striding up and down. "Commander-in-chief," said Doeninger, after a long pause, during which he had watched Hofer's irresolute bearing smilingly, "there is something that disquiets you, is there not?"
"You reversed the decision of the judges," said Doeninger, slowly; "you possess the power of reversing all decisions." Andreas Hofer was silent for a moment, and gazed thoughtfully into vacancy, as if to fathom the meaning of an obscure oracle; all at once his face brightened, and a joyous smile played round his lips. "I know it now, Cajetan," he exclaimed.
The sound, as it were, of many approaching footsteps which creaked on the frozen snow. Doeninger crept cautiously to the small hole in the roof and looked out. The moon shed her pale light on the white snowfield around the hut, and Doeninger could see and recognize everything. He saw a detachment of soldiers coming up yonder. He saw them halt at a short distance from the hut.
Cajetan Doeninger followed them resolutely and with a defiant expression of countenance. At the street-door stood the farm-wagon, covered with straw, which was to convey Andreas Hofer to Mantua. Ten soldiers with loaded muskets stood upon it, and a crowd of soldiers surrounded it. Andreas Hofer walked calmly and with head erect through their ranks to the wagon.
He dressed himself quickly and followed Doeninger into the room, where he found the two envoys and several members of his suite. "Now tell me, gentlemen, what news do you bring to us?" asked Hofer, shaking hands with the two envoys. "No good news, commander-in-chief," sighed Baron von Worndle, "but there is no use in complaining; we must submit patiently to what cannot be helped.
Hour passed after hour; all remained silent, and Doeninger felt somewhat relieved, for day would soon dawn, when the hour of flight would be at hand. Doeninger dropped his head slowly on the hay to sleep an hour and invigorate himself for to-morrow's trip. However, no sooner had he done so than he gave a start, lifted up his head again, and listened. He had heard a sound outside.
Go, Doeninger, go; write a proclamation!" "Hurrah! Long live our commander-in-chief," shouted the peasants, triumphantly; "long live our dear faithful Andreas Hofer!" "I thank you, my dear countrymen," said Andreas; "I am your leader now, and we will fight again. But do not hold me responsible for the events of the future. You must never forget that you compelled me to resume war.
Cajetan Doeninger stood at his bedside and informed him that the intendant of the Puster valley, Baron von Worndle, had arrived with an envoy of the Emperor Francis, Baron von Lichtenthurn, and both wished urgently to see the commander-in-chief. "I will admit them," said Hofer, rising hastily; "God grant that they are the bearers of good news!"
Retiring to his native valley, Andreas Hofer long eluded the search of the victors. His place of concealment was a solitary Alpine hut, four leagues distant from his home, in general inaccessible from the snow which surrounded it. Love had accompanied Andreas to this inhospitable spot. His wife and his son John were with him, and so was Cajetan Doeninger, his faithful secretary.
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