Tracks of a Rolling Stone
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第33章 CHAPTER XII(3)

'It was just because I desired to avoid both that I had sought, not without risk, the protection I was so sure of finding at the hands of a great and gallant soldier.'

'Dummes Zeug! dummes Zeug!' (stuff o' nonsense), he puffed.

But a peppery man's good humour is often as near the surface as his bad. I detected a pleasant sparkle in his eye.

'Pardon me, Excellenz,' said I, 'my presence here is the best proof of my sincerity.'

'That,' said he sharply, 'is what every rascal might plead when caught with a rebel's pass in his pocket. Geleitsbriefe fur Schurken sind Steckbriefe fur die Gerechtigkeit.' (Safe-conduct passes for knaves are writs of capias to honest men.)

I answered: 'But an English gentleman is not a knave; and no one knows the difference better than your Excellenz.' The term 'Schurken' (knaves) had stirred my fire; and though I made a deferential bow, I looked as indignant as I felt.

'Well, well,' he said pacifically, 'you may go about your business. But SEHEN SIE, young man, take my advice, don't satisfy your curiosity at the cost of a broken head. Dazu gehoren Kerle die eigens geschaffen sind.' As much as to say: 'Leave halters to those who are born to be hanged.'

Indeed, the old fellow looked as if he had enjoyed life too well to appreciate parting with it gratuitously.

I had nothing with me save the clothes on my back. When I should again have access to the 'Erzherzcg Carl' was impossible to surmise. The only decent inn I knew of outside the walls was the 'Golden Lamm,' on the suburb side of the Donau Canal, close to the Ferdinand bridge which faces the Rothen Thurm Thor. Here I entered, and found it occupied by a company of Nassau JAGERS. A barricade was thrown up across the street leading to the bridge. Behind it were two guns.

One end of the barricade abutted on the 'Golden Lamm.' With the exception of the soldiers, the inn seemed to be deserted; and I wanted both food and lodging. The upper floor was full of JAGERS. The front windows over-looked the Bastei. These were now blocked with mattresses, to protect the men from bullets. The distance from the ramparts was not more than 150 yards, and woe to the student or the fat grocer, in his National Guard uniform, who showed his head above the walls.

While I was in the attics a gun above the city gate fired at the battery below. I ran down a few minutes later to see the result. One artilleryman had been killed. He was already laid under the gun-carriage, his head covered with a cloak.

The storming took place a day or two afterwards. One of the principal points of resistance had been at the bottom of the Jagerzeile. The insurgents had a battery of several guns here; and the handsome houses at the corners facing the Prater had been loop-holed and filled with students. I walked round the town after all was over, and was especially impressed with the horrors I witnessed. The beautiful houses, with their gorgeous furniture, were a mass of smoking ruins. Not a soul was to be seen, not even a prowling thief.

I picked my way into one or two of them without hindrance.

Here and there were a heap of bodies, some burnt to cinders, some with their clothes still smouldering. The smell of the roasted flesh was a disgusting association for a long time to come. But the whole was sickening to look at, and still more so, if possible, to reflect upon; for this was the price which so often has been, so often will be, paid for the alluring dream of liberty, and for the pursuit of that mischievous will-o'-the-wisp - jealous Equality.