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Tracks of a Rolling Stone-Part14_Henry J.Coke(1827-1916)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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easy to follow him. Probably my amateur German was as

puzzling to him. The PASSIERSCHEIN, which I produced, was



not in my favour; unfortunately I had forgotten my Foreign

Office passport. What further added to his suspicion was his



inability to comprehend why I had not availed myself of the

notice, duly given to all foreigners, to leave the city



before active hostilities began. How anyone, who had the

choice, could be fool enough to stay and be shelled or



bayoneted, was (from his point of view) no proof of

respectability. I assured him he was mistaken if he thought



I had a predilection for either of these alternatives.

'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 appreciateparting 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.



CHAPTER XIII




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