A slow, cunning smile spread over
his face.
"The king?" he asked.
"Well, he's in Strelsau, isn't he? Who gave you the wound on your
head?"
Bauer moved his arm as though he meant to withdraw it from my
grasp. He found himself tightly held.
"Where's that bag of mine?" I asked.
I do not know what he would have answered, for at this instant
there came a sound from behind the closed door of the house. It
was as if some one ran rapidly and eagerly towards the door. Then
came an oath in a shrill voice, a woman's voice, but harsh and
rough. It was answered by an angry cry in a girl's intonation.
Full of eagerness, I drew my arm from Bauer's and sprang forward.
I heard a chuckle from him and turned round, to see his bandaged
head retreating rapidly down the street. I had no time to look to
him, for now I saw two men, shoulder to shoulder, making their
way through the crowd, regardless of any one in their way, and
paying no attention to abuse or remonstrances. They were the
lieutenant and Rischenheim. Without a moment's hesitation I set
myself to push and battle a way through, thinking to join them in
front. On they went, and on I went. All gave place before us in
surly reluctance or frightened willingness.
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