William Tell Told Again Part 3

"'Yet words,' I said, 'might lead us on to deeds.'"

"Neat," said Jost Weiler--"very neat. Yes?"

"To which Tell's extraordinary reply was: 'The only thing to do is to sit still.'

"'What!' I said; 'bear in silence things unbearable?'

"'Yes,' said Tell; 'to peaceable men peace is gladly granted. When the Governor finds that his oppression does not make us revolt, he will grow tired of oppressing.'"

"And what did you say to that?" asked Ulric the smith.

"I said he did not know the Governor if he thought he could ever grow tired of oppressing. 'We might do much,' I said, 'if we held fast together. Union is strength,' I said.

"'The strong,' said Tell, 'is strongest when he stands alone.'

"'Then our country must not count on thee,' I said, 'when in despair she stands on self-defence?'

"'Oh, well,' he said, 'hardly that, perhaps. I don't want to desert you. What I mean to say is, I'm no use as a plotter or a counsellor and that sort of thing. Where I come out strong is in deeds. So don't invite me to your meetings and make me speak, and that sort of thing; but if you want a man to _do_ anything--why, that's where I shall come in, you see. Just write if you want me--a postcard will do--and you will not find William Tell hanging back. No, sir.' And with those words he showed us out."

"Well," said Jost Weiler, "I call that encouraging. All we have to do now is to plot. Let us plot."

"Yes, let's!" shouted everybody.

Ulric the smith rapped for silence on the table.

"Gentlemen," he said, "our friend Mr. Klaus von der Flue will now read a paper on 'Governors--their drawbacks, and how to get rid of them.'

Silence, gentlemen, please. Now, then, Klaus, old fellow, speak up and get it over."

And the citizens settled down without further delay to a little serious plotting.

CHAPTER V

A few days after this, Hedwig gave Tell a good talking to on the subject of his love for adventure. He was sitting at the door of his house mending an axe. Hedwig, as usual, was washing up. Walter and William were playing with a little cross-bow not far off.

"Father," said Walter.

"Yes, my boy?"

"My bow-string has bust." ("Bust" was what all Swiss boys said when they meant "broken.")

"You must mend it yourself, my boy," said Tell. "A sportsman always helps himself."

"What _I_ say," said Hedwig, bustling out of the house, "is that a boy of his age has no business to be shooting. I don't like it."

"n.o.body can shoot well if he does not begin to practise early. Why, when I was a boy--I remember on one occasion, when--"

"What _I_ say," interrupted Hedwig, "is that a boy ought not to want always to be shooting, and what not. He ought to stay at home and help his mother. And I wish you would set them a better example."

"Well, the fact is, you know," said Tell, "I don't think Nature meant me to be a stay-at-home and that sort of thing. I couldn't be a herdsman if you paid me. I shouldn't know what to do. No; everyone has his special line, and mine is hunting. Now, I _can_ hunt."

"A nasty, dangerous occupation," said Hedwig. "I don't like to hear of your being lost on desolate ice-fields, and leaping from crag to crag, and what not. Some day, mark my words, if you are not careful, you will fall down a precipice, or be overtaken by an avalanche, or the ice will break while you are crossing it. There are a thousand ways in which you might get hurt."

"A man of ready wit with a quick eye," replied Tell complacently, "never gets hurt. The mountain has no terror for her children. I am a child of the mountain."

"You are certainly a child!" snapped Hedwig. "It is no use my arguing with you."

"Not very much," agreed Tell, "for I am just off to the town. I have an appointment with your papa and some other gentlemen."

(I forgot to say so before, but Hedwig was the daughter of Walter Furst.)

"Now, _what_ are you and papa plotting?" asked Hedwig. "I know there is something going on. I suspected it when papa brought Werner Stauffacher and the other man here, and you wouldn't let me listen.

What is it? Some dangerous scheme, I suppose?"

"Now, how in the world do you get those sort of ideas into your head?"

Tell laughed. "Dangerous scheme! As if I should plot dangerous schemes with your papa!"

"I know," said Hedwig. "You can't deceive _me!_ There is a plot afoot against the Governor, and you are in it."

"A man must help his country."

"They're sure to place you where there is most danger. I know them.

Don't go. Send Walter down with a note to say that you regret that an unfortunate previous engagement, which you have just recollected, will make it impossible for you to accept their kind invitation to plot."

"No; I must go."

"And there is another thing," continued Hedwig: "Gessler the Governor is in the town now."

"He goes away to-day."

"Well, wait till he has gone. You must not meet him. He bears you malice."

"To me his malice cannot do much harm. I do what's right, and fear no enemy."

"Those who do right," said Hedwig, "are those he hates the most. And you know he has never forgiven you for speaking like that when you met him in the ravine. Keep away from the town for to-day. Do anything else. Go hunting, if you will."

"No," said Tell; "I promised. I must go. Come along, Walter."

"You _aren't_ going to take that poor _dear_ child? Come here, Walter, directly minute!'

"Want to go with father," said Walter, beginning to cry, for his father had promised to take him with him the next time he went to the town, and he had saved his pocket-money for the occasion.

"Oh, let the boy come," said Tell. "William will stay with you, won't you, William?"

"All right, father," said William.