Now they stood still in front of it. The moon shone brightly into the face of one of them; Doeninger recognized him at once; it was Raffel, the betrayer. The other was a French officer. The latter stood still at a distance of some steps from the hut, but Raffel went close up to the door, applied his ear to it and listened.
"They are here," he then said to the officer in a low voice. The officer immediately lifted up his arm and shouted "Forward!" The soldiers advanced and surrounded the hut. All was lost!
Doeninger awakened the sleeping boy. "John," he said in a low voice, "let us go down to father. The French have come."The boy uttered a loud cry. "The French have come!" he exclaimed, despairingly; "they want to arrest my father!""Come," said Doeninger, imperatively; and he took the boy in his arms, and hastened with him down the ladder into the room below.
"Awake," he said, bending over Andreas Hofer; "the enemy has come."Andreas started up and stared incredulously at Doeninger; but his wife rose, uttering low lamentations, and dressed herself hurriedly.
"Let us flee," she murmured; "quick, quick, let us escape by the back door.""The hut is surrounded," said Doeninger, assisting Hofer in dressing. "We can no longer flee.""Is that true?" asked Andreas, calmly.
"It is, commander-in-chief."
"Well, then, as it pleases God," said Hofer, crossing himself; and, traversing the room quickly, he opened the front door.
The soldiers stood four files deep, shouldering their muskets.
Andreas advanced fearlessly close up to the enemy.
"Is there one of you, gentlemen, who speaks German?" he asked, with entire calmness.
"I do," said the officer, stepping rapidly forward.
Andreas greeted him with a proud nod of the head. "Well, then," he said, "I am Andreas Hofer, late commander-in-chief of the Tyrolese.
I ask for quarter and good treatment."
"I cannot promise any thing to a rebel," replied the officer, contemptuously.
"But you have come to seize me, and none but me," continued Andreas, in a gentle voice. "Well, then, here I am; do with me as you please.
But I ask you to have mercy upon my wife and my son, and this young man, for they are entirely innocent." [Footnote: Andreas Hofer's own words. See "Gallery of Heroes."]
The officer made no reply. He signed to his soldiers, and ordered them to bind Andreas Hofer and the others in such a manner as to render it utterly impossible for them to escape.
The soldiers rushed furiously upon the defenseless captives, tied their hands on their backs, and wound the ropes round their necks, so that they could drag them forward like oxen. And after binding Andreas Hofer, so that they were no longer afraid of his strong arms, they surrounded him with scornful laughter, tore handfuls of hair from his beard, and said they would keep them "as souvenirs of General Barbone." Blood streamed from his lacerated face, but the cold froze it and transformed the gory beard into a blood red icicle, which pricked the numerous wounds in his chin every moment, and inflicted intense pain.
Andreas did not complain; he looked only at his wife, his son, and his friend, who, bound like himself, scantily dressed and barefooted like himself, were dragged down the mountain, which was covered with snow and ice, into the plain below. His hands, into which the rope was cutting all the while, were very sore; his bare feet swelled from walking on the snow and were torn by the icicles. Still Andreas did not complain; but on hearing the low wails of his son, on seeing that every footstep of his wife, who was dragged along before him, left a bloody spot in the snow, he burst into loud sobs, and two tears rolled slowly down his cheeks into his beard, where they froze in the blood.
The dreadful march was continued to Meran. French generals, staff-officers, and soldiers awaited the tottering prisoners at the gate.
The soldiers greeted the captured "bandit chief Barbone" with loud cheers and scornful laughter; and Andreas Hofer and the others entered the city, preceded by a band which played a ringing march.
The French were overjoyed, but the citizens stood in front of their houses, and, regardless of the presence of their cruel enemies, greeted Andreas Hofer with tears and loud lamentations.
The journey was continued on the following day to Botzen; only the prisoners, whose bleeding and lacerated feet refused to carry them any longer, had been laid on a common farm-wagon, and some clothing had been thrown over them.