On landing he nodded curtly, at which the boatman made a quick
gesture and spat.
"You have not the price of a glass in your purse, perhaps," he
suggested.
Barlasch disappeared in the darkness without deigning a reply. Half
an hour later he was on the steps of Sebastian's house in the
Frauengasse. On his way through the streets a hundred evidences of
energy had caught his attention, for many of the houses were
barricaded, and palisades were built at the end of the streets
running down towards the river. The town was busy, and everywhere
soldiers passed to and fro. Like Samuel, Barlasch heard the
bleating of sheep and the lowing of oxen in his ears.
The houses in the Frauengasse were barricaded like others--many of
the lower windows were built up. The door of No. 36 was bolted, and
through the shutters of the upper windows no glimmer of light
penetrated to the outer darkness of the street. Barlasch knocked
and waited. He thought he could hear surreptitious movements within
the house. Again he knocked.
"Who is that?" asked Lisa just within, on the mat. She must have
been there all the time.
"Barlasch," he replied. And the bolts which he, in his knowledge of
such matters, himself had oiled, were quickly drawn.
Inside he found Lisa, and behind her Mathilde and Desiree.
"Where is the patron?" he asked, turning to bolt the door again.
"He is out, in the town," answered Desiree, in a strained voice.
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