As the hero turned to the people with a friendly greeting, and exhorted them to courage, with short and appropriate words, there sounded from a thousand voices an enthusiastic “Hurrah!” The people waved their hats, and cried loudly and tumultuously up at the windows of the Council, “Give us arms—­arms!”

At the window above stood the chief burgomaster, with trembling limbs and livid face.  “It is decided,” said he, softly; “the people of Berlin are determined to die as heroes, or purchase their liberty with all the wealth of the town,” and, with a weak cry of grief, he sank fainting into the arms of the head alderman.

The assistant burgomaster opened the window and cried out:  “You shall have arms.  We will defend Berlin with our last breath, and to the last drop of our blood!”

* * * * *

CHAPTER XI.

THE NIGHT OF HORRORS.

Thus, once more, had the impetuous boldness of the patriots carried the day against braggart cowardice.  The Council, yielding to necessity, had resolved to be brave.  The chief burgomaster, who had revived, donned his robe of office, adorned himself with his golden chain, and followed by the councillors, proceeded to Commander Rochow, to ask for arms for the citizens of Berlin.  This petition was readily granted; the armory was thrown open, and there were seen, not only men and youths, old men and boys, but even women and girls, arming themselves for the sacred fight for fatherland and freedom.  As if on a pilgrimage, the people proceeded to the armory in a long, solemn procession, silent and devout, a noble determination, a brave and cheerful but subdued expression observable in every face.  No loud cries, not a rude word, nor boisterous laughter was heard from this crowd.  Each one spoke in low and earnest tones to his neighbor; every one was conscious of the deep significance of the hour, and feared to interrupt the religious service of the country by a word spoken too loud.  In silent devotion they crossed the threshold of the armory, with light and measured steps the crowd circulated through the rooms, and with solemn calmness and a silent prayer in their hearts, the people received from the hands of the veteran soldiers the weapons for the defence of their country.  And the flags which hung around on the walls as shining mementoes of former victories, seemed to greet the people as patriots who were arming themselves for the holy fight against the enemy of their country, the destroyer of liberty.

For it was no longer a fight for Silesia, a strip of territory, which was to be fought, but a struggle between intellect and brute power, between civilization and barbarism, the inevitable companion of the Russian hordes.  Prussia represented Germany, and on her waving banner she bore the civilization, refinement, science, and poetry of Germany.  Her opponent was no longer the German brother, sprung from the same