"These are sad tidings, indeed," said Haydn, shrugging his
shoulders, "still they are no reason why we should despair. If the
archduke has lost a battle--why, all generals have lost battles--"

"Bonaparte never lost one," replied Conrad, with a profound sigh,
"he wins every battle, and devours all countries he wants to
conquer."

"We must pack up our things, Joseph," said Mrs. Haydn--" we must
bury our money, our plate, and especially your jewels and trinkets,
so that those French robbers and cannibals will not find them. Come,
husband, let us go to work quickly, before they come and take every
thing from us."

"Hush, wife, hush!" said Haydn, mildly, and a gentle smile
overspread his features. "Never fear about our few trifles, and do
not think that the French just want to come to Vienna for what few
gold snuff-boxes and rings I have got. If they were anxious for gold
and jewels, coming as they do as enemies, they might simply open the
imperial treasury and take there all they want."

"Yes, but they would not find any thing," said Conrad. "The treasury
is empty, doctor, entirely empty. Every thing is gone; there is not
a single crown, not a single precious stone left in the treasury."

"Well, and where is the whole treasure then, you fool?" asked Haydn,
with a smile.

"They have taken it to Presburg, master. I saw the wagons myself--