On the twenty-sixth of August, in the year , a lively party passed out through the gate of the old city of Basle and briskly took their way along the road to Saint Jacob, following the course of the river Birs. First came two sturdy burghers, Councillor Hans Irmy, a merchant of some consequence, and the head of a large and wealthy house, the revenues of which were constantly being increased by agents in Venice, Genoa, Augsburg, and Nuremberg; and Ulrich Iseli, landlord of The Bears of Basle, the largest tavern in the city.
Iseli was a good customer of Irmy's in foreign wines and provisions. Following them was a band of youths, led by a young apprentice of the house of Irmy, Heini Sussbacher of Aarau. Walter, the Councilor's only son, was the central figure of this group, the others crowding closely about him.
He was a lad of some sixteen years, with a frank, good-natured countenance, and of a size and strength beyond his years. Up hill and down dale they went, till perspiration streamed from the brow of the corpulent Councillor and he could scarcely keep pace with his more youthful companion Iseli, who, unlike the most of his calling, was tall and spare and had preserved much of the elasticity of youth.
We shall still reach our journey's end before night. The dignitaries of the town will mark my absence from the guests' room and, doubtless, distinguished persons will have arrived by the time we return. Methinks you are wont to be quick enough in other respects. I maintain that Switzerland cannot do better than to place herself under the protection of the French crown. Never has the house of Austria dealt fairly by us, nor should we forget what Tell and his companions did for their country.
Moreover, you must remember 'tis but thirty years since Austria and France formed an alliance against us that might have proved our destruction.
