The sentry almost stamps with impatience.
"Go home, dear little Fraeulein! Go home at once," he says. "There is danger
abroad to-night. I cannot leave my post, or I would take you home
myself.... Holy Saint Christopher! they are coming this way! Go--go--what
would his Excellency the Governor say, if he found you here?"
I see quick gleams of wandering lights among the trees--I hear a distant
shout! Then, seized by a sudden panic, I turn and fly, with Bertha at my
heels--fly back the way I came, never pausing till I find myself once more
at the courtyard gate. Here--breathless, trembling, panting--I stop to
listen and look back. All is silent;--as silent as before.
"But, liebe Gretchen," says Bertha, as breathless as myself, "what is to do
to-night?"
There is a coming murmur on the air. There is a red glow reflected on the
barrack windows ... they are coming! I turn suddenly cold and giddy.
"Hush, Bertha!" I whisper, "we must not stay here. Papa will be angry! Let
us go up to the corridor window."
So we go back into the house, upstairs the way we came, and station
ourselves at the corridor window, which looks into the courtyard.
Slowly the glow broadens; slowly the sound resolves itself into an
irregular tramp of many feet and a murmur of many voices.
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