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"When Annette's husband fell, I thought him lucky; I had a wife and child, and yet wished for death. That fratricidal war was fortunately soon over. I can see now that it was necessary for our preparation. My feelings always revolted at the recollection of it, but now events are at hand which will remove those memories. I shuddered when I learned that monuments were being raised to those who had fallen in 1866. Now I can see that they have died twice over for their Fatherland; they had already sacrificed their hearts while living. Our profession is now at last in entire sympathy with the nation's wishes, and it is revolting that those who call themselves 'liberals' refuse to acknowledge the 'casus belli.'"
"Is the Prince aware of the patriotic ideas which you have kept to yourself for so long a time?" I asked as the Colonel paused.
"No! at least I do not think so! He merely knows that I sometimes write for our Military Journal, and that I am a good soldier. I never dreamt that I would be appointed Minister of War. And on that night I knew that we were simply to act as a reserve, and to be a sort of target for the enemy's bullets. You must surely have been of the same opinion."
I could not boast of having been so wise.
But the time had not come to think of the past. The Colonel gave me a copy of his will, which I was to deposit with the recorder. He did this calmly, without showing the slightest emotion. A few hours later we went to bed.
CHAPTER III.
The _reveille_ was sounded. The soldiers marched off, and nearly the whole town, young and old, followed them on their way. When I saw these merry men, and thought in how short a time so many of them would lie down in death, I became oppressed with the thought that I had raised my voice for war. But this feeling soon pa.s.sed away. We are acting in self-defence, and this will bring about a happy ending, for we shall no longer have to live in dread of the insolence and presumption of our neighbors.
The soldiers sang as they marched along, and up by the newspaper-tree sat Carl's mother, looking at them pa.s.sing by. Marie stood at her side, but the old woman motioned her away, and when I asked her to return home with us, she said:
"I have seen the thousands and thousands of mothers, who bore them all in pain, and have cared for and raised them, floating in the air over their heads. O my Carl! Have you heard nothing of him yet?"
We found it difficult to get her back to the village. Marie walked along at her side, and said:
"Do you know what I should like to be?"
"What?"
"Do you hear the hawk that is circling in the air over the hill-top?
Alas, you cannot hear him, but you can see him. Like him, I should wish to fly, and I would fly to Charles and back again, and tell you everything."
The village and the country round about had been in an uproar; but now that the troops had left, everything was wonderfully quiet. Rothfuss was right; for if we had not seen the occasional remains of a camp-fire, we would not have known that the soldiers had been there.
The old meadow farmer, who had been pensioned off by his son, and whom the departure of the troops had aroused, sat at his door, and seemed to enjoy watching the little pigs that were disporting themselves in the gutter.
A little coach stood before him, in which lay a child that he had to feed with milk; for his son wanted to get all he could from his father.
He thought of nothing but the increase of his property, and acted meanly towards his father. He made him presents of the cheapest kind of tobacco, so that he should not buy an expensive sort; but the old man saw through the trick, and gave the tobacco money away, so that his son should not inherit it.
I gladly avoided all intercourse with these people.
As I approached the house, the old man beckoned to me to come to him, and, like a child, told me of his latest pleasure.
"I kept them locked up in my room as long as the soldiers were here.
Soldiers have a great liking for such tender morsels. I used to be so myself."
I knew, of course, that he was talking about his pigs, and he added as a sort of consolation:
"Yes, yes, Mr. Ex-Burgomaster"--he gave me my t.i.tle--"yes, yes, you are also retired at last, and squat by the stove. Yes, yes, we are old fellows and must stick at home, while the young ones are out yonder, fighting the enemy."
The old man kept on steadily smoking his pipe, and talked of war times, and particularly of the Russian campaign, of which he was a survivor.
But on this day I could not listen to him, and while walking home I began thinking, am I really fit for nothing but to observe from afar the great deeds that are now being wrought?
Just as I was turning away from the old man, his son, the meadow farmer, came along with a large load of hay, and said in a mocking manner, "The French let us gather our hay; our houses will burn so much the better when they come to set them on fire." Then he added with malicious pleasure, "Your house is insured, but there is no insurance on your woods." Here he laughed aloud. When troubles are on us, a man's true nature shows itself.
After telling me his fears, he repeated them more fully to Rothfuss.
The latter shifted his pipe from one side of his mouth to the other, and asked, "What would you give not to suffer any damage?"
"How? what do you mean?
"They won't hurt my house; my father has the cross of St. Helena. And I have no cash. I can swear that I haven't a farthing in the house."
He spoke the truth, for he had buried his money.
"You need no money; it's something else. Do you know the story of the dragon of Rockesberg?"
"What do you want? What do you mean?"
"Why, to quiet the dragon, they had to sacrifice a maiden."
"Those are old tales. Don't try to make a fool of me. If you want a fool, whittle one for yourself."
"Stay! I know how you can buy yourself free. You needn't deliver your daughter Marie to the dragon. Will you promise to give her to Carl in case everything should turn out well?"
"Ho! he'll never come back."
"But in case he should?"
"Well--do you think that will be of any use?"
"Certainly. Such a promise will save you."
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself for being so superst.i.tious. You are a fool," said the meadow farmer, and went off.
The exciting events of the last few days had so entirely exhausted me that I could not keep my eyes open in the day-time, if I sat down; and I was so tired. I still refused to believe that I was growing old. But I was strongly reminded of it, for I feared to die. Formerly, since I stood alone, I thought death an easy matter; now I wanted to live long enough to be laid in the soil of a united Fatherland.
I was much refreshed by the arrival of Julius's wife. When I awoke from my afternoon nap and saw her standing before me, it seemed as if it were my wife in her youth. She had a most charming presence, and the resignation with which she bore her separation from husband and brother gave great impressiveness to her manner. Every movement of hers had a quiet grace. She lived in entire harmony with my daughter-in-law Conny; and these two children, who had now become mine, petted and caressed me with such kindness and consideration, and listened so attentively to all I said, that I could speak to them of things which I usually kept to myself. Martha was an adept in making remarkably beautiful bouquets out of gra.s.ses and wild flowers, and when I entered the room in the morning, I always found a fresh nosegay on the table. She was such a pleasant table companion that the dishes tasted twice as good, and I soon regained my strength.
Marie often came to visit me. Martha felt very kindly towards the girl; besides, there was a bond of union between them, for each had her greatest treasure in the field.
Marie had hitherto confided in no one in the village; for it would be contrary to the peasant's standard of honor to tell any one how she loved, and what her father made her suffer. Her grandfather strengthened her in her love, and when I said that the old fellow did it merely to hurt his son's feelings, Martha declared I was wronging him.
Martha, like my wife, embellished what she looked upon. The light of her eyes made all things radiant with light, and as a happy young wife she was particularly inclined to favor and give consolation in an unhappy love affair. Forgetting all her own troubles, she gave me a lively account of the patience and energy with which Marie worked, while her father would go about the house, scolding and cursing, because he now was forced to do things which his servants had formerly attended to. Yesterday, while she was engaged in stacking some green clover, the father called out in the direction of the shed behind the cattle-rack. "To whom are you talking there?"
"To him."
"To whom?"
Marie shoved the clover aside, and said, "Father, look at me! Can you not see that it is written here that Carl loves me? There is not a spot in my face that he has not kissed. See here, father, look at this half-ducat. We chopped one in two; Charles has the other half. There!"
Then she piled the clover up again so that her father should not see her. He kept on cursing and swearing. She was glad, however, that she had spoken out at last. Still, Marie was greatly embarra.s.sed. The little circle in which she moved was her world, and she could not bear being talked about by the world, for preferring the son of the poorest cottager to the son of the rich miller.