The Puppet Crown [76]
"Fellow-students, brothers of freedom and comrades," he began. "All this must come to an end, and that at once. Our personal liberty is endangered. Our rights are being trodden under foot. Our ancient privileges are being laughed at. It must end." This declaration was greeted by shouts, sundry clattering of pewter lids and noisy rappings of earthenware on the tables. "Have we no rights as students? Must we give way to a handful of beggarly mercenaries? Must we submit to the outlawing of our customs and observances? What! We must not parade because the king does not like to be disturbed? And who are the cuirassiers?" Nobody answered. Nobody was expected to answer. "They are Frenchmen of hated memory--Swiss, Prussians, with Austrian officers. Are we or are we not an independent state? If independent, shall we stand by and see our personal liberties restricted? No! I say no!
"Let us petition to oust these vampires, who not only rob us of our innocent amusements, but who are fed by our taxes. What right had Austria to dictate our politics? What right had she to disavow the blood and give us these Osians? O, my brothers, where are the days of Albrecht III of glorious memory? He acknowledged our rights. He was our lawful sovereign. He understood and loved us." This burst of sentiment was slightly exaggerative, if the history of that monarch is to be relied on; but the audience was mightily pleased with this recollection. It served to add to their distemper and wrath against the Osian puppet. "And where are our own soldiers, the soldiers of the kingdom? Moldering away in the barracks, unnoticed and forgotten. For the first time in the history of the country foreigners patrol the palaces. Our soldiers are nobodies. They hold no office at court save that of Marshal, and his voice is naught. Yet the brunt of the soldier's life falls on them. They watch at the frontiers, tireless and vigilant, while the mercenaries riot and play. Brothers, the time has come for us to act. The army is with us, and so are the citizens. Let ours be the glory of touching the match. We are brave and competent. We are drilled. We lack not courage. Let us secretly arm and watch for the opportunity to strike a blow for our rights. Confusion to the Osians, and may the duchess soon come into her own!"
He jumped from the stage, and another took his place; the haranguing went on. The orators were serious and earnest; they believed themselves to be patriots, pure and simple, when in truth they were experiencing the same spirit of revolt as the boy whose mother had whipped him for making an unnecessary noise, or stealing into the buttery.
While the excitement was at its height, a man, somewhat older than the majority of the students, entered the bar-room from the street, and lounged heavily against the railing. His clothes were soiled and wrinkled, blue circles shadowed his eyes, which were of dull jet, the corners of his mouth drooped dejectedly, and his oily face, covered with red stubble, gave evidences of a prolonged debauch.
"Wine, Stuler, wine!" he called, laying down a coin, which gleamed dimly yellow in the opalescent light. "And none of your devilish vinegars and scums."
Stuler pounced on the coin and rubbed it between his palms. "Gold, Johann, gold?"
"Aye, gold; and the last of a pocketful, curse it! What's this noise about?" with a gesture, toward the hall.
"The boys were in the Platz and had a brush with those damned cuirassiers. They'll play a harder game yet." Stuler always took sides with the students, on business principles; they constituted his purse. "Tokayer?"
"No; champagne. Aye, these damned cuirassiers shall play a hard game ere the week is done, or my name is not Johann Kopf. They kicked me out of the palace grounds yesterday; me, me, me!" hammering the oak with his fist.
"Who?"
"Von Mitter, the English-bred dog! I'll kill him one of these days. Is it play to-night, or are they serious?" nodding again toward the hall.
"Go in," said Stuler, "and look