For Sceptre and Crown Volume I Part 49

The fourth squadron remained in the village of Gladebeck on outpost duty.

The horses were foddered and provided with straw, according to the rules of the service and the heart of the cavalry soldier, whose first care is always for his horse.

A cheerful fire burned in the street of the village, which stands at the foot of a hill overlooking a broad plain of meadows and orchards.

Below, the lights from the village windows gleamed through the clear night, and in the distance echoing voices were heard, with signals, and trampling horse-hoofs. The dark sky glittered with stars, and the soft night-wind blew refreshingly over the fields after the heat of the day.

Upon the hill a single vedette stood motionless, a carbineer named Schenkel.

Before the fire, upon a heap of clean well-piled straw, lay two young officers, Lieutenants von Wendenstein and Stolzenberg. The water in a campaigning kettle bubbled and steamed; brandy, lemons and great lumps of sugar were abundant, and Lieutenant von Stolzenberg, a handsome, pleasing-looking young man, prepared in two silver beakers the fragrant invigorating drink which inspired Schiller in his immortal song. Ham, bread, and sausages lay around, proving that the peasants of Gladebeck had treated their guests to all that their store-chambers could afford.

Stolzenberg mixed the beverage, tasted it, and pa.s.sed the cup to his comrade after he had stirred it with a piece of wood.

"Do you believe in presentiments, Wendenstein?" he asked.

"I really scarcely know," replied that young gentleman, raising himself from the comfortable position in which he lay gazing up at the sky, to take the cup and drink a hearty draught,--"I really scarcely know, I have never thought about it; but," he added, laughing, as he placed the cup conveniently before him on the ground, "I should like to believe, for if a presentiment is a certain indescribable feeling that penetrates us and gives us a peep into the magic mirror of the future, my future must be bright and clear; everything smiles upon me so merrily that I could gallop for miles to-night for the simple pleasure of the thing. You see, Stolzenberg," said he, drawing a cigar from his pocket and carefully cutting the end with a small knife, "it is such a pleasure to escape from that weary garrison-life, and to go into the field to a real actual war; such a night as this, old fellow, in bivouac under the open sky, is the most delightful thing a soldier can wish for. Give me a light for my cigar."

Herr von Stolzenberg gave him a glowing piece of wood, from which with the skill of a connoisseur in the art of smoking he kindled his cigar, the fine aroma of which soon rose in the air.

"Well, and what do your presentiments say, Stolzenberg?" he asked; "or rather, have you had a presentiment?"

Stolzenberg poked the fire with an oak stick and gazed thoughtfully into the blaze.

"Yes," he said gravely.

"Well," cried Wendenstein, "you say so in the tone of the marble guest; speak out and tell me all about it. Drink first and take a good draught, you know some philosopher has said presentiments come from the stomach, and for the stomach nothing is better than to be comforted in moderation with a good drink."

Herr von Stolzenberg took kindly to his friend's didactic advice, and then said, again gazing gravely at the fire,--

"Do you know I feel shy of speaking about it? It is really nothing--neither has a spirit appeared to me, nor have I had a dream, nor is there anything I can really describe. When I was leaving my room quite ready to mount my horse, suddenly an icy coldness pa.s.sed like an electric spark through all my veins, and a voice seemed to say, 'You will never return.' The impression was so vivid and powerful that I stood still for a moment as if spell-bound. But suddenly the feeling was gone, as if it had never been."

"This is madness!" said Wendenstein leaning his head on his hand and gazing up at the stars; "I remain firm in my opinion that your stomach is out of sorts, and what more natural, after the early rising and fatigue of the day? You must double your dose of punch!"

"And once again," said Stolzenberg thoughtfully, without heeding his friend's jest, "I had the same feeling. As we pa.s.sed the Crown in Gottingen and the king greeted us from the window, and all our lads hurrahed madly, just as I raised my sword to salute--in that very moment the icy coldness seized me, and again a voice cried: 'You will never return. The king will never return!'" He spoke in a low troubled voice.

"Man, you are raving!" cried Wendenstein, sitting up with a great jerk.

"Have as many presentiments about yourself as you please, but leave the king out of the game. Pray oblige me by telling no one else of your hallucinations!"

Stolzenberg gazed straight before him.

"If it is to be so," he said in a low voice, "in G.o.d's name it is well; if we come to blows many a brave soldier will fall, and it is our lot; a quick honourable death is all a man can wish, only no long suffering, nor to return a cripple."

"I will answer you no more," said von Wendenstein, "such thoughts are too dismal for a first night in the field. But," he continued sitting up and looking into his friend's face, "I will confide something to you."

And half jesting, half smiling at some happy remembrance, he said,--

"I think I am in love."

"You?" cried von Stolzenberg, laughing, "it would not be for the first time; but the moment is ill-chosen."

"Why?"

"Because a good cavalry soldier when he goes into the field should leave no regrets behind him. Forwards! is the word, and a lover makes a bad soldier."

"I do not understand that," said von Wendenstein; "on the contrary, in battle, how happy it would make a man to feel a heart is beating for him, and following him with thoughts and good wishes, and if he distinguishes himself the brave soldier will feel greater pride, and then when he returns, oh! that must be delicious!"

"When he returns," said Stolzenberg gloomily. "But," he continued in a cheerful voice, "who is your new flame?"

The eyes which von Wendenstein had been directing towards the stars were turned upon his friend with a look of surprise, and he said in a somewhat hurt voice, as he threw himself back in the straw:

"New flame? what an expression! certainly I shall not tell her name!"

"Then you are really in earnest," returned von Stolzenberg. "And now I must prescribe an extra gla.s.s of punch; for I retain my opinion that love is a sickness, especially at the beginning of a campaign."

Wendenstein did not reply, but continued attentively to watch the course of the stars, which at the same moment were shining down on the old house at Blechow, upon the old trees and the well-known pastures and fir-woods, and upon the Pfarrhaus with its beds of roses, and he hummed to himself:

"Wenn Menschen auseinander gehn, So sagen sie: Auf Wiedersehn!"

"Halt! who goes there?" cried the sentry on the hill, and presented his carbine.

Both the young officers sprang to their feet. A carriage and two extra post-horses, coming rapidly along the road, drew up at the challenge of the sentry.

In a moment the officers were at the carriage door. Some dragoons appeared a little way off.

"Whom have we here?" asked Herr von Stolzenberg, looking into the carriage, in which sat a figure wrapped in a cloak. "You cannot pa.s.s the outposts."

A young man with a fresh open countenance threw back his cloak and leaned over the door to greet the officers.

"Everything is quite in order, gentlemen," he said, laughing. "I am Duve of the Chancery, and I am sent by Count Platen and General Arentschildt with a despatch from Count Ingelheim to Baron Kubeck at Frankfort; I am also to seek the Hessian army and to bring back intelligence which may enable you to join it. Here are my despatches, and here is the order for pa.s.sing the outposts."

Lieutenant von Stolzenberg stepped with the pa.s.s to the light of the fire, read it, and returned it to Herr Duve.

"It is quite right," he then said. "I wish you a pleasant journey and good success; send us the Hessians soon, and if possible the Bavarians also."

"I will do what I can," returned the messenger.

"Stolzenberg," cried von Wendenstein, "bring a gla.s.s of punch. Here, sir," he said, "take this away in your stomach, it will do you good in the night; who knows when you will meet with it again?"

"To your good watch," said Herr Duve, as he emptied the proffered beaker.

The horses started, the carriage rolled on, and the officers returned to their fire.

After a short time the sentry again challenged; steps were heard on the other side of the hill, the pa.s.s-word was given, and the officers, who had hastily sprung to their feet, met Rittmeister von Einem.

The lieutenants saluted, and von Stolzenberg said: "Nothing fresh, a messenger has pa.s.sed with despatches and a correct pa.s.s."

"All right, gentlemen," said the Rittmeister, "all is in perfect order.

And now," he continued, laughingly, "let us lay aside duty; and give me a gla.s.s of your drink, and something to eat, for I have had so much to do to-day with the horses and men that I have not had time to find anything for myself."