TYROL AND THE TYROLESE 



feated in a desperate battle ; and the next call to 

 arms was in vain, for all who could do so had 

 already come. Speckbacher had but thirteen 

 followers left. Nothing remained but flight. 



And this Andreas Hofer scorned. He would 

 never leave his beloved Tyrol. He retired to a 

 deserted hut high up the mountains, whilst for two 

 months the French soldiers sought the "brigand," 

 as they called him. 



Then the traitor appeared Donay the priest, 

 Hofer's intimate friend. One morning he led a 

 body of troops to the little hiding-place where the 

 hero lay. 



They brought Andreas Hofer down from the 

 mountains, bound and a prisoner past the inn 

 where he had lived, through the village where he 

 was born, through the snow-clad valleys to 

 Mantua. 



The peasants, who had known and loved him 

 from his boyhood, knelt as he passed, weeping, 

 praying, beseeching him to bless them. 



One day's pretence of a trial, and then came the 

 order he was to be shot within twenty-four hours. 



It was a misty morning when they led him out. 

 He refused to kneel, refused to have his eyes ban- 

 daged. His last piece of money he gave to the 

 corporal. " Shoot straight ! " he said. And then 

 facing the platoon, he gave the order, " Fire ! " 



227 



