Elise rose with difficulty and gave the necessary orders to the servants; and while the latter were hurrying to and fro, serving up breakfast, Gotzkowsky reclined on the sofa, half asleep from exhaustion; and Bertram and Elise sat opposite to each other in silence.  Suddenly there were heard in the distance wild yells, and loud noises and cries.  Then hasty steps flew up the staircase; the hall door was pulled open, and a soldier rushed in.  With breathless haste he bolted the door behind him, threw off the white cloak which concealed his figure, and the broad-brimmed hat which covered his head, and sank with a loud sigh into a chair.  Gotzkowsky hurried up to him and looked at him attentively.  Elise, with an instinctive feeling of the danger which threatened Feodor, turned to the door behind which he was hidden.

“The artilleryman, Fritz!” cried Gotzkowsky, with visible astonishment.

“Yes, it is me,” groaned the soldier.  “Save me, Gotzkowsky; do not deliver me up to these barbarians!”

Gotzkowsky laid his hand on his shoulder with a friendly smile.  “I would not betray the enemy himself, if he sought refuge in my house; and you ask me not to betray the most valiant and renowned defender of Berlin.  Bertram, this man here, this simple cannoneer, has performed miracles of valor, and earned for himself an enviable name in these last unfortunate days.  It was he who had charge of the only two cannon Berlin possessed, and who, never tiring, without rest or relaxation, gent death into the ranks of the enemy.  Be assured, my son, you have fought these two days like a hero, and it cannot be God’s wish that, as a reward for your bravery, you should fall into the hands of the enemy.”

“They pursue me everywhere,” said the artilleryman.  “Hunted by De Lacy’s chasseurs like a wild beast, I fled down the street hither.  You told me yesterday that if ever I wanted a friend in need, you would be one to me.  Therefore have I come to you.  The Austrians have sworn vengeance on the cannoneer, whose balls swept their ranks so murderously, and have set a large price on my head.”

“Ah!” cried Gotzkowsky, laughing, “the Austrians advertise rewards before they have got the money to pay them.  Let them set a thousand ducats on your head, my son.  They will have to do without the ducats, and your head too, for Berlin will give them neither.  If we must pay the money, the Russian shall have it; and as for your head, well, I will pay for that with my life.  You have fought like a lion, and like lions we will defend you.”

“What have I gained by fighting?” said Fritz, with a mournful shrug of the shoulders.  “The enemy have succeeded in getting into the town, and their rage is tearful.  They have sworn to kill me.  But you will not give me up! and should they come here and find me, then have pity on me and kill me, but do not give me up to the enemy!”

“To kill you, they must kill both of us first!” cried Bertram, taking the brave cannoneer by the hand.  “We will hide him in your house; won’t we, Father Gotzkowsky?”