"The king has safely arrived at Breslau!" cried one of the men to
another, and immediately the enthusiastic cry of "Long live the
king!" burst from all those who heard it, and, like a jubilant echo,
the people along the whole street repeated, "Long live the king!"
"The king has reappointed General Scharnhorst quartermaster-general,
and General Blucher is with him at Breslau!" exclaimed a stentorian
voice. "Long live Scharnhorst! Long live Blucher!" shouted the
crowd. "Long live our heroes!" "Down with the French!" and thousands
answered in tones of intense hatred, "Down with the French!"
"They so long trampled us under foot!" cried another citizen. "Now,
let us pay them for it! Come, let us go to the French ambassador and
give him a few groans! We will no longer be silent!"
"Yes, we are determined to speak!" yelled the multitude, who hurried
toward the gate in front of which the residence of the ambassador
was situated. But suddenly they were stopped by a procession
approaching from the Brandenburg gate. It was headed by three men--
one of short and feeble frame, his face pale and emaciated, but lit
up by large flashing blue eyes; the second was tall and broad-
shouldered, his eye looking frank and bold, and his hair falling on
his shoulders like a lion's mane; the third was not tall, but of a
firmly-knit frame, and, with his proud head and intrepid air, looked
like the embodiment of chivalry.
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