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A conference was held at Brixen between Haspinger, Martin Schenk, the host of the Krug, a jovial man of powerful frame, Kemnater, and a third person of similar calling, Peter Mayer, host of the Mare, who bound themselves again to take up arms in the Eastern Tyrol, while Hofer, in person, raised the Western Tyrol.
The young man may go wherever he pleases." This was the cheering intelligence which Andreas Hofer received on the third day of his captivity in the jail where he and his dear ones lay on wet straw. "See, Cajetan," he exclaimed, joyfully, "it turns out just as I said. My seizure releases my wife and my child, and relieves them from all dangers."
The men paused; like Andreas Hofer, they clasped their hands, bent their heads, and muttered fervent prayers. After a long pause Hofer raised his head again. "And now, men, listen to what I have to say to you," he exclaimed, cheerfully.
A younger brother of Mr. Hofer, who had also multiplied his paternal million, devoted himself to her seriously, and Gwynne, who soon had enough of dancing, gracefully renounced his claims to the german. They had one waltz together and then he did not see her again until the hour of departure, when he stood in the hall and watched her descend the winding white stair between the roses.
"He scolds me for my love, and when I like to be with him all the time, he says my jealousy is disagreeable to him, and there is nothing more abominable than a jealous wife!" "Well, he may be right so far as that is concerned," said Doeninger, busily engaged in cutting his pen. "What did you say, Cajetan?" asked Hofer, turning to him.
We know well that Andreas Hofer will not act like Ashbacher, Sieberer, Teimer, Eisenstecken, and Speckbacher, and abandon us in our sore distress." "He who does not extricate himself from his sore distress will not be saved by others," cried the friar, indignantly.
Why, you wear your holiday clothes, and yet I think this is neither Sunday nor a holiday." "It is a great holiday," exclaimed Niederkircher, "the commander-in- chief of the Tyrol, the great Andreas Hofer, is making his triumphal entry into the city.
"They are not exactly good men," said Speckbacher, who was standing on the right side of Andreas Hofer; "no, they are not exactly good men, Andy; otherwise they would not have fought against us, who are assuredly good men and have done nothing but defend our dear country." Instead of replying to him, Andreas Hofer turned smilingly to the Capuchin, who was standing on his left side.
I passed two entire months in Germany, and like the people. On my way I saw Waterloo, an ugly table for an ugly game. At Innsbruck I entered the church in which Andreas Hofer is buried. He lies under a plain slab, on the left, near the door. I admired the magnificent tomb of bronze, in the center, surmounted by heroes, real and imaginary.
He was anxious to thank these kind people and give utterance to his love; and he lifted up his arm, asking them to be quiet that he might address them. The cheers and acclamations ceased immediately, and Hofer spoke amidst the breathless silence of the crowd in a loud, ringing voice: "God bless you, dear people of Innspruck!
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