Meantime in the camp drums beat, fifes screamed shrilly, trumpets blared, and the shouts and voices of the assembled soldiers sounded like the distant roar of the surf.

A fresh burst of military music rang out, and now Florette started to her feet and listened.  It seemed as if she heard Ulrich’s voice, and the rapid throbbing of her heart almost stopped her breath.  She must go out, she must see and hear what was passing.  Hastily pushing the white hair back from her brow, she threw a veil over it, and hurried through the camp to the spot where the election was taking place.

The soldiers all knew her and made way for her.  The leaders of the mutineers were standing on the wall of earth between the field-pieces, and amid the foremost rank, nay, in front of them all, her son was addressing the crowd.

The choice wavered between him and Zorrillo.  Ulrich had already been speaking a long time.  His cheeks were glowing and he looked so handsome, so noble, in his golden helmet, from beneath which floated his thick, fair locks, that her heart swelled with joy, and as the night grows brighter when the black clouds are torn asunder and the moon victoriously appears, grief and pain were suddenly irradiated by maternal love and pride.

Now he drew his tall figure up still higher, exclaiming:  “Others are readier and bolder with the tongue than I, but I can speak with the sword as well as any one.”

Then raising the heavy two-handed sword, which others laboriously managed with both hands, he swung it around his head, using only his right hand, in swift circles, until it fairly whistled through the air.

The soldiers shouted exultingly as they beheld the feat, and when he had lowered the weapon and silence was restored, he continued, defiantly, while his breath came quick and short:  “And where do the talkers, the parleyers seek to lead us?  To cringe like dogs, who lick their masters’ feet, before the men who cheat us.  Count Mannsfeld will come to-day; I know it, and I have also learned that he will bring everything except what is our due, what we need, what we intend to demand, what we require for our bare feet, our ragged bodies; money, money he has not to offer!  This is so, I swear it; if not, stand forth, you parleyers, and give me the lie!  Have you inclination or courage to give the lie to Navarrete?—­You are silent!—­But we will speak!  We will not suffer ourselves to be mocked and put off!  What we demand is fair pay for good work.  Whoever has patience, can wait.  Mine is exhausted.

“We are His Majesty’s obedient servants and wish to remain so.  As soon as he keeps his bargain, he can rely upon us; but when he breaks it, we are bound to no one but ourselves, and Santiago! we are not the weaker party.  We need money, and if His Majesty lacks ducats, a city where we can find what we want.  Money or a city, a city or money!  The demand is just, and if you elect me, I will stand by it, and not shrink if it rouses murmuring behind me or against me.  Whoever has a brave heart under his armor, let him follow me; whoever wishes to creep after Zorrillo, can do so.  Elect me, friends, and I will get you more than we need, with honor and fame to boot.  Saint Jacob and the Madonna will aid us.  Long live the king!”