still lingered in those narrow streets that run by the banks of the
Pregel beneath the great castle of Konigsberg, while the Tugendbund,
like a seed that has been crushed beneath an iron heel, had spread
its roots underground.

From Dantzig, the commercial, to Konigsberg, the kingly and the
learned, the tide of war rolled steadily onwards. It is a tide that
carries before it a certain flotsam of quick and active men, keen-
eyed, restless, rising--men who speak with a sharp authority and pay
from a bottomless purse. The arrival of Napoleon in Dantzig swept
the first of the tide on to Konigsberg.

Already every house was full. The high-gabled warehouses on the
riverside could not be used for barracks, for they too had been
crammed from floor to roof with stores and arms. So the soldiers
slept where they could. They bivouacked in the timber-yards by the
riverside. The country-women found the Neuer Markt transformed into
a camp when they brought their baskets in the early morning, but
they met with eager buyers, who haggled laughingly in half a dozen
different tongues. There was no lack of money, however.

Cartloads of it were on the road.

The Neuer Markt in Konigsberg is a square, of which the lower side
is a quay on the Pregel. The river is narrow here. Across it the
country is open. The houses surrounding the quadrangle are all
alike--two-storied buildings with dormer windows in the roof. There
are trees in front. In front of that which is now Number Thirteen,
at the right-hand corner, facing west, sideways to the river, the
trees grow quite close to the windows, so that an active man or a