"There you are right; never can such a thing be believed of my Army." LANDLORD (whom this "MY" has transfixed).

"MEIN GOTT, you are our GNADIGSTER KONIG (most gracious King) yourself! Pardon, pardon, if, in my stupidity, I have--" KING.

"No, you are an honest man:--probably a Protestant ?" LANDLORD.

"JOA, JOA, IHR MAJESTAT, I am of your Majesty's creed!" Crack-crack! At this point the Dialogue is cut short by sudden musket-shots from the woody fields to right; crackle of about twelve shots in all; which hurt nothing but some horse's feet,--had been aimed at the light, and too low.

Instantly the light is blown out, and there is a hunting out of Croats; Lissa or environs not evacuated yet, it seems; and the King's Entrance takes place under volleyings and cannonadings.
King rides directly to the Schloss, which is still a fine handsome house, off the one street of that poor Village,--north side of street; well railed off, and its old ditches and defences now trimmed into flower-plots.